#But otherwise I have No Clue what anyone said rip

[mandareeboo]

Is there any jewish peeps who watched the bat mitzvah episode willing to give me a rundown? Loved it but understood none of the Yiddish and there's no transcript out for me to self-translate.

[gudfornuthin]

All I’ve Ever Wanted

Season 4!Five Hargreeves x fem!reader

! Spoilers ahead !

Summary: six years of travelling to different timelines, and Five isn’t sure how much longer he can go on for. Until he stumbles upon a greenhouse, full of strawberries. And you.

Word count: 4212

A/N: so season 4 was a… thing that happened. This story is basically my own idea of how things should’ve gone in ep 5. Instead of the weird Lila/Five situation, it’s just Five, and his chance of living a normal life with someone new. Hope you all enjoy, and feedback is appreciated :)

Number Five was never one to back down from a challenge. Having been through a series of different apocalyptic events, transporting to a timeline where he spent 40 years alone, and dealing with a misfit group consisting of his exhausting siblings, Five was up for anything. But the current situation he was dealing with? For the first time in his life, he was at breaking point.

After another wasted day spending hour after hour searching for any clues or information on how to get back to the correct timeline, Five returns to the subway, entering one of the compartments and slumping down in the first chair he sees. He rubs his eyes and lets out a visceral sigh, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep. He reaches into his pockets, pulling out a small pack of dried fruits. He rips it open and devours every last piece. He can’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He was becoming more desperate, rummaging through trash cans and foraging in bushes, hoping anything he picks isn’t poisonous.

The compartment jolts and begins to move, making its way to the next timeline. Five wipes his hands on his already dirty pants, standing up and walking slowly to the door. He wonders whether his apocalypse counterpart will be waiting for him this time.

After several minutes, and Five almost falling over from his lack of sleep, he finally arrives, the doors opening. He steps out, immediately making his way up the stairs. No time to waste. He cautiously pokes his head out, looking around for any signs of, well, himself. Before he can move out more, something wizzes past his head. A bullet. He ducks, as more shots are fired directly at him.

“Give me a fuckin’ break,” Five mumbles, as he finally takes notices of the other him in the distance.

He sticks up his middle finger, and no soon after closes his fists, blinking as quick as he possibly could.

The Five with a gun disappears along with the destroyed world around him. Five drops his arms to his sides, turning around and admiring the new environment. Luscious, greenery surrounds him, with an array of different flowers sprouting from the ground beneath him. A small pond with fish glimmers in the sunshine, lily pads floating on top. He continues turning, finding himself standing next to a tall greenhouse. The glass was slightly foggy, making it difficult to see what’s inside. Five leans in closer, squinting as if that would help. He can barely make out what appears to be pots of fruit and vegetables, some fully sprouted and others not yet ripe. His stomach rumbles, the feeling of hunger consuming him.

A rustle sounds from behind him. He turns quickly, coming face to face with a pair of shears. Five jumps back slightly. He then spots the person wielding said ‘weapon’. A young woman, probably early twenties, wearing a light yellow dress and a pair of brown sandals. Five can’t help but admire her beauty, if it wasn’t for the fact she had a face like fury and didn’t seem afraid of cutting him in half.

“Can I help you?” Her words are kind, but her harsh tone says otherwise.

Five can’t exactly tell this young woman the truth. Showing up randomly in her back yard, covered in grime, gawking at her crops through the window. He raises his hands up in the air, trying to convey that he meant no harm.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his throat sore having not spoken to anyone in quite some time. “I don’t really know how I got here.” That’s not exactly true. “I’ve been travelling for a few days now.” Try six years. “And I could really do with a hot shower and something to eat.”

The woman doesn’t say anything, just staring, with the shears still held out in front of her.

Five puts his arms down, shrugging in defeat. “I’ll just go. I truly am sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.” He looks down. “Or step all over your rose garden.” He gingerly moves away from the destroyed flowers.

He turns and begins to walk away, hoping to find an exit as quick as possible. Blinking in front of this woman probably wouldn’t help his cause. A warm hand grabs hold of his wrist, forcing him to stop and look back. She has the shears loosely hanging by her side, as her eyes pierce into Five’s. She seems hesitant, words forming in her mind. At last, she speaks again.

“You’re telling the truth?”

Five nods incessantly, feeling like a child.

“And if I let you in and make you something to eat, you won’t try and kill me?”

Five holds back a laugh, knowing she’s being deadly serious. “I wouldn’t dare.”

The woman waits a beat, then huffs. “Come on, I was just about to start dinner.”

She moves past Five, walking into three greenhouse. He takes this as a sign to follow after her.

***

The young woman allows Five to use her shower, and he’s thankful for the change of clothes she provides for him too. The home is small and cosy, playing into the stereotypical cottage core of living. The lighting is soft, and the smell of pumpkin seems to waft through into every room. It’s calming, it’s peaceful, it’s something that makes Five feel on edge. He isn’t used to the domestic life, away from the terror and destruction, trying to save the world over and over. He knows he can’t stay here long, but he won’t miss the opportunity of a proper cooked meal.

After putting on the change of clothes, Five makes his way down the hall and into the kitchen, a small buffet waiting for him. He finds it hard not to drool, the potatoes and fresh pie, along with the fruit and vegetables he’d spotted earlier. It looks incredible. He takes a seat, as the woman places down a final plate of tomatoes, sitting down opposite Five.

They dish out the food, filling their plates as high as they can, especially Five. He tries not to look like a slob in front of the pretty girl, but finds it hard not to drop some things down his top. She doesn’t seem to notice, or pretends not to.

The woman takes a sip of her drink, clearing her throat. “So,” her soft voice makes Five look up from his plate. “Do you have a name or is that one of the many mysteries of the man shovelling food down his throat like he hasn’t eaten in several years?”

The woman isn’t afraid of being upfront. Five admires that. Although, it’s not surprising considering he’s a complete stranger she’s trusted in her home. He puts down his knife and fork, grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“No, I have a name. It’s Fi-,” he catches himself, unsure if his ‘name’ would just create more confusion, and unwanted questions. “Jerome. Just, Jerome.”

The woman squints her eyes, but doesn’t push further, seeming to move past his stumble. “Okay. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Jerome.”

Five shrugs, not knowing what else to say.

“My names Y/N.”

Five nods. “Okay. We’re closer already.”

“Don’t push it,” Y/N says, a small smile gracing her face. Five can’t help but pull the same expression.

***

After a hearty dinner, and some obvious awkward silences, Five insists on helping Y/N do the washing up. The sun was beginning to set, and Five knows he’ll have to leave soon, but something stops him from doing so. He doesn’t want to admit it, but this was the most relaxed he’d felt in a long time. The fear or worry of something bad happening wasn’t there, and as he stands close to the woman he had barely met 2 hours ago, he realises what he’d been missing in his 60 something years. A place to live, with a person who makes him feel safe.

“Jerome,” the voice breaks through his thoughts, as Five almost forgets the name he’d given to this woman. “I feel like we’ve skirted around the topic enough. Is there any reason you were in the state you were in, taking refuge behind my greenhouse?”

Five places down the plate he was cleaning, turning to face her fully. Her expression is calm, and her voice shows no sign of interrogation. It’s a first for Five, as he’s become accustomed to people prodding him for information only for their own benefit. No one’s ever shown true interest in him.

He shrugs. “It’s been a tough couple of years. More than that I guess.” Fives eyes glaze over. “I haven’t seen my family in a long time, and I don’t know if I ever will. And if I do, I’m terrified of the state that I’ll find them in.”

Y/N stops what she’s doing, also turning to look at Five, a look of worry taking over her face. He knows he’s said more than he should have, but he couldn’t help it. He’s not good at sharing his feelings, and when he does, he’s scared of what will happen once the flood gates are opened. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to close them.

“What d’you mean? Are they in some kind of trouble?” She asks, a slight shake in her voice. “Are you in trouble?”

Five shakes his head, not wanting to stress out this poor woman who’s been nothing but doting to him. “No! No, I just,” he sighs, knowing he’s really put his foot in it. “I just care about them, a lot. Too much. And I don’t even want to think about not seeing them again.”

A soft hand brushes against Five’s cheek, as he glances at Y/N wiping a tear away from his face. He didn’t even realise he’d started crying. He sniffles, moving away and rubbing at his eyes, fearing how red they may look. He sucks in a deep breath, calming his beating heart. Whether it’s from talking about his family, or the touch from the woman next to him, he isn’t sure. But he fears he’s overstayed his welcome.

Five moves away from the kitchen counter. “I guess I should probably go. Don’t wanna miss my train.” Although he knows they’ll always be one there waiting for him.

He heads for the door, remembering to go upstairs and collect his dirty clothes before he leaves. Footsteps are heard from behind him.

“Uh,” Five swivels back around, as Y/N hesitates over her words. “This may seem kinda forward, and a dangerous move on my part, but, I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight knowing you were out there in the middle of the night, traveling by yourself.”

Five holds his breath, not wanting to jump the gun, but already anticipating the next sentence out of her mouth.

“I have extra pillows, and blankets.” Y/N shrugs. “It’s not the most comfortable couch but I’d say it’s more comfortable than the chairs on the train.”

Neither of them speak for a while. Five ponders her offer over and over, wondering if this is something he wants to decline. He needs to get back to his family. He needs to get back to help them. But so far, every option has been a bust. He’s not sure how much longer he can go on for. It could be the apocalypse all over again. Stuck for 40 years, traveling none stop, unsure if he’ll ever see his loved ones again. Could a good nights sleep really be such a bad thing?

He thinks the risk is worth it. “As long as it’s not too much trouble for you.”

***

That one good nights sleep turned into three months, staying at Y/N’s home, crashing on her couch. It didn’t stop Five from going out, back to the subway, trying to find the possible solution to his six year problem. But the more time he spent with the woman, the less time he wanted to spend away from her. They grew closer, making meals together, gardening together, watching silly romcoms together. While Y/N taught Five how to bake, Five taught her how to fight. A young woman living by herself? It didn’t hurt knowing some basic defence skills.

Five didn’t want to admit it, but his family hadn’t crossed his mind as often as it usually did before he met Y/N. He’d become soft, wanting to be around her all the time, not wanting to visit the subway as often as he should be. He’s lucky enough to call her a friend. He hopes she calls him that too.

***

It’s late, and Y/N is sat on the couch, crocheting a few pairs of gloves and a long overdue jumper. People used to make fun of her for it, calling her an old lady, but she finds it soothing. And making your own clothes is a big bonus too. Five, or Jerome as she knew him, had been out most of the day. She never questioned what he was up to, only that he returned safe, ready for whatever she’d cooked up for him during the day. She wasn’t completely naive in thinking ‘Jerome’ has involved himself in shady business. But unless he plans on telling her, then she won’t bother pushing him on the matter.

A bang echos from the back of the house, specifically inside the geeenhouse. It makes Y/N jump up from her seated position, quickly rushing out to the source of the noise. It can only be one person, or that’s what she hopes. Either way, she grabs for her shears before entering the warm glass room.

“Jerome?” She whispers, watching her step, the only light in the room coming from the moon through the windows.

A muffled groaning reaches her ears, as Y/N blindly moves her hands over the walls, trying to find the light switch. She finally does, and flicks it on. A sharp gasp comes out of her mouth, as the brightness finally reveals her new friend curled in a ball on the floor, rolling in pain.

“Shit.”

She quickly makes her way over to him, delicately wrapping her arms around his waist and slowly helping him off the floor. He stumbles, knocking into a few pots, almost making them fall off the table.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, the word slurring under his breath.

“Don’t apologise,” she says, making sure he’s steady on his feet. “Let’s just get you inside and onto the couch.”

They make their way through into the living room, Five dropping haphazardly onto the soft cushions, while Y/N finally gets a proper look at him. His clothes are ripped, the once pristine suit (one she bought for him as a gift) now in tatters. His hair is sticking up in all different directions, and he’s clutching to his side like his life depends on it. She reaches for his arm, prying it away to reveal an array of bullet wounds, still bleeding.

“You should see the other guy,” Five jokes, tilting his head back and trying to forget about the burning pain running across his body. Funnily enough, if Y/N saw the other guy, he’d look exactly like him, considering this all happened due to an unfortunate run in with apocalypse Five.

Y/N stares at him with wide eyes. “Really? Look, I don’t bother asking where you go or what you’re up to when you leave this house, but I think now’s the time you tell me the truth.”

Five moves his head back down, looking her in the eyes. She’s terrified. And he hates that. He breathes in deep, taking her hand in his.

“If you can help me patch this shit up,” he briefly motions to his wounds, “then I’ll tell you who I really am.”

So that’s what they do. Y/N retrieves the first aid kit from her bathroom, while Five opens up about his life before he met her, and how he’s not from this timeline. He isn’t sure if she’s believing what he says, as she remains quiet the entire time, only occasionally looking up at him and quickly returning to removing the bullets lodged in his side. But she listens. And allows him to pour his heart out to her.

“The past six years were torture. Somehow worse than the forty I spent in the apocalypse.” Five turns his head and stares at the woman next to him, as she finishes up her work. “But these last few months with you. I could finally be normal. I could live a life most guys would kill to have. And I’m so sorry I lied to you this long.”

They fall into silence, the pair somehow closer together than they were a few minutes ago. Both emotionally, and physically. Y/N moves her hand and takes his, squeezing tightly. Five’s heartbeat picks up speed, only now noticing their close proximity.

“So your real name is ‘Five’?” He nods at her words. She nods back. “Hmm. It suits you a lot better than Jerome.”

They both laugh half heartedly, as they stare deeply into each other’s eyes. She moves her hand up to his hair, moving it out of his face, trying to calm it down slightly.

She carries on talking. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through.” Five rolls his eyes. She doesn’t even know the half of it. “But if I can be the person to keep you grounded, for however long you’re here for, then I’m happy to do just that.”

Five smiles, glancing quickly at her lips.

She does the same. “And I hope you’re here for a long time.”

They both lean in, softly pressing their lips against each other’s. Five cups her face, deepening the kiss as Y/N rests her arms atop his shoulders. They move in sync, careful not to cause any more damage to Five’s wounds, as she somehow moves closer, one of her legs wrapping itself around his waist.

They don’t stop, clothes discarded, bodies intertwined, as their growing tension is finally broken. Five isn’t sure if he’ll ever get back to his timeline, but for now, he’s happy to call this place home.

***

Another four months, and still no sign of a way back. Although, Five can’t deny he hasn’t been trying as hard as usual. The peace and tranquillity has consumed him whole, falling into a proper routine with the woman he…

Is it love? Could he truly fall for someone like this? Someone who isn’t involved in the shit show he’s grown accustomed to? Someone who wants that quiet life, watering flowers and baking pies, with him? Maybe it’s what he needs.

Five stands in the greenhouse, picking some fresh strawberries, and trying a few to see if they were ripe. He’s already found the perfect recipe to use them in. Something he knows she’ll love.

As if reading his thoughts, a pair of arms slip around his waist. Y/N rests her chin on his shoulder, peaking over to see the basket full of fresh fruit. She picks one up, moving away and popping it in her mouth. Five turns and looks at her, smiling wide.

“They taste perfect,” she says.

Five takes her wrists, pulling her towards him and kissing her lightly. “So do you.”

She laughs, holding him close and breathing him in. “The cheesy lines don’t work on me, bub.”

“I think they do.” He mumbles, bringing her in for another kiss, sliding his hands up and down her back.

They stay like this for a while, holding each other in the warm glass room. The sun starts to set, as Five looks out and realises what time it is.

“Damn.”

She looks at him, confusion on her face. “What’s up?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, I just need to do a double check of the subway before dinner.”

Y/N tries not to show her anxiousness, but some of it seeps through. After Five explained to her what the subway is and why he goes there every day, she’s terrified at the thought of him leaving and never coming back. But she knows he wouldn’t do that to her. Not without saying goodbye.

She steps back. “Right. Promise you’ll be safe?”

He kisses her on the cheek. “I promise.”

***

Five spends some time looking around the platform in the subway, checking the lights, checking the maps, even poking his head into the tunnels to see if anything has changed. But nothing. It all remains the same. No sign of his past life waiting for him. Was that such a bad thing?

Holding a small flashlight, he shines it up and down, left and right, hoping his eyes will catch something new. A sudden pop from above startles him, the grip he had on the flashlight loosening. It falls and rolls onto the tracks. Five looks up, noticing one of the bulbs now flickering. He huffs, moving to the edge of the platform and jumping down. He retrieves the flashlight, hitting it a few times to try and get it to work again. It comes to life, flashing in front of him. That’s when he spots something.

“That’s new.”

Five walks over, grabbing the mystery object and holding it up. It’s a plain notepad. He flips it open, scanning over the messy handwriting inside. His messy handwriting. He can’t help but let out a tiny gasp, as he figures out what it all means.

“This is it.” Tears form in his eyes. “This is my way back home.”

He’s shocked. He’s elated. He’s emotionally drained. This is his chance to rejoin his timeline. To see his family after so long. To fix the mess they’ve created. But all he can think about in this moment is Y/N. How the hell is he supposed to break the news to her?

***

After another hour spent pondering this new found information, Five slowly makes his way back home. His home. Where the life he’d built was waiting for him.

He enters the house and walks into the kitchen, where Y/N stands by the stove, boiling something sweet and caramelly. Five just stares at her; humming a random tune, wiping her messy hands on the apron he bought for her when her old one accidentally caught fire. That was the most stress he’d felt since coming here. And if that was the only stress he had to deal with, he’d take it every single day.

She finally turns and spots him, smiling wide. “Oh hey! I was worried for a sec, you were taking longer than expected.”

She moves closer to him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He holds her, not wanting to let go. Y/N can tell something isn’t right.

She leans back. “You okay?”

Five doesn’t reply, only holding the notepad out for her to take. She does so, flipping through the pages just like he did, her expression perplexed.

“I don’t understand-”

“It’s the way back to my timeline.”

She looks up at him, mouth slightly open, as her words fall short. Five can swear he hears her heartbeat speed up, as her breathing becomes erratic. Five isn’t sure what to do, waiting for an explosion of emotions to rain down on him. But nothing comes. Neither of them do or say anything.

Five chooses to break the silence. “I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t. I don’t think I could live the way I used to live. Not after living this life with you.”

Y/N bites her lip, suppressing a sob. “You have to go.”

Five furrows his brow, hoping he heard her wrong. He tilts her head up to stare into her eyes, seeing the tears forming.

“No,” he whispers. “You’ve become the most important thing in my life. The thought of never seeing you again, I can’t do that.”

A tear falls down her cheek, as Five reaches out to wipe it away.

“I’d love nothing more than to stay in this little bubble we’ve created,” she replies, finding it hard to keep her voice steady. “But your family, your timeline, all those people? They need you more than I do. And I know deep down, you can’t bear the thought of letting them die, knowing you could’ve helped.”

Five wants to ask her to come with him. Become apart of his family. He knows she’d get on with them all. And they’d all love her, possibly more than they love him. But he knows it’s cruel to ask her to leave her life behind. The house, the garden, the home that she’s worked so hard on. And the thought of throwing her into the thick of it all. Putting her at danger? No chance.

He pulls her into his embrace, kissing her hard. They hold each other tight, their lips bruising as neither of them can stop the tears from falling.

Y/N is the first to pull away. “If you ever get the chance to come back to this timeline, you know where to find me.”

Five smiles, not wanting to let her go. He kisses her once more. “In the greenhouse, tasting just as sweet as the strawberries.”

[serenefreakgeekao3]

Ambivalent Days

Jim Halpert x Trans Man Reader (PART TWO) Can be read alone, but I do reference part one, so read that HERE if you want to be caught up!

Summary: You’ve finally come out as trans to the entire office. It’s gone a lot better than expected. But now you’re faced with a serious problem- or rather, a serious crush. On none other than Jim Halpert, leading supporter of your transitions and quickly becoming your best friend in the office. But are you willing to risk that friendship just for some silly little feelings?

Tags: FtM!reader, Gay!Jim (for narrative reasons, I think i wanted him to be bi in the first part but switched it around, whatever), implied gay!reader (all i said was ‘not straight’), trans supporter Dwight, peacekeeper!Pam, supportive!Kelly Kapoor, bisexual!Kelly, drinking in moderation, happy ending Warnings: Michael being absolutely ridiculous and attention-hungry to the point that he does bad things (so, like, normal episode?), some general swearing

A/N: This has been requested so many times, both in asks and requests. I’ll try my best to tag everyone who asked for this, sorry if i forgot any! I was excited to write this because I loved the first part, but figuring out where to start was the trickiest part. I hope you all enjoy!  (this entire fic ended up just writing itself once i got going. I had no clue what i was gonna do until it happened so… enjoy lol)

Life was great, working as a Customer Service representative for Dunder Mifflin paper company. Wow, you never thought you’d say such a thing, but it really has become something appealing, something that had you smiling and willing to come to work every single day. Of course, it had its own ups and downs, times when you felt overwhelmed or frustrated at certain people. You still ended up enjoying the majority of the day, and sometimes the rough days turned out to end up better than the rest.

It had absolutely, wholeheartedly nothing to do with James Duncan Halpert, otherwise known to his work colleagues as ‘Jim.’ You continued to lie to yourself, nodding along to this thought process on your drive to work. It was rainy, just like most days, and you were bored out of your mind waiting in the traffic. You just enjoyed going to work, because… Because of all of your friends, that’s why! Sure, that might include Jim, but that also included Pam, and Oscar, and god forbid, even Dwight. He’s certainly grown on you over time, having completely accepted your identity, even defending you against anyone who said anything. You couldn’t be sure, but you suspected that Dwight had even lost a customer through those actions- but when Mr Dellicker had called for customer support and you had answered the phone, saying his name out loud, Kelly had rushed around the divider and ripped the phone from your hand, immediately transferring it to her own phone. You tried to listen in, curious why this was so important to her, but you kept hearing her say the same thing over and over.

“Thank you for your consideration, but we no longer want your business with us. I completely understand that you think so, but we no longer want your business with us. While that may or may not be true, this whole conversation is futile considering we no longer want your business with us.”

Mr Dellicker had become a hushed topic around you, but you had managed to catch a private whisper among your friends one day when he was brought up again. They’d ask Kelly if he had called yet, and she assured the situation was handled. Pam had whispered, “I can’t believe some people’s views on trans people. It makes no sense.” So, while it wasn’t likely due to you specifically, you were almost sure that you were the only trans person they knew. If they were defending trans people, they were defending you alongside it all.

You pulled into the parking lot finally, shaking your head to rid yourself of those thoughts. Mr Dellicker’s whole deal had been a problem a month ago and was no longer an issue. You shouldn’t dwell on those thoughts, you weren’t likely to ever have to worry about it again. You managed to snag a semi-decent parking space. It was only the second from the front, but it happened to be right next to Michael’s own car, and as you placed your car into park, you glanced over to notice he was still sitting there. You tilted your head in confusion, watching for a moment.

You couldn’t tell if he was psyching himself up, or singing along to one of his weird songs. He seemed ready to open the door, then leaned back once more without actually doing it. He lowered the visor on his car, flipping open the little door to reveal his mirror and looking at himself in it. He continued, probably, speaking to himself, and you just shook your head and decided to leave it be. You reached for your suitcase and umbrella, then began making your way inside.

You were stuffing your umbrella into the little holder by the door after you entered the office, taking off your long overcoat and hanging it on the coat rack by Pam’s desk. She smiled, asking about what you did over the weekend, and you answered that you didn’t really do much besides binge the next season of your current obsession. You agreed to tell her about it later, moving toward the break room for your normal cup of tea. You pat Jim on the shoulder on the way, and he reaches up quickly to touch your hand before you slip by. It causes a smile to cross your face as you continue on your path, a happy feeling welling up inside.

“I. Am a girl.” You spin around quickly, eyes widening in fright. There stood Michael Scott, wearing a short, pleated pink skirt with his normal yellow button-down dress shirt, as well as a crooked ginger wig that he had most definitely not been wearing in his car. The room falls completely quiet, and you hear two people put their calls on hold. Jim stands, and you can’t see his face from this perspective, but you hear a hardness in his voice.

“Michael, this is not a funny joke-”

“It’s not a joke!” Michael yells out, crossing his arms. He purses his lips before speaking again in a higher tone. “I’m a girl, and so I decided to say it. That I am.” He looked around the room as if expecting something, but no one moved a muscle. Pam broke the silence, clearing her throat and talking in a tone that was both cautious and unbelieving.

“Alright, so what would you like us to call you, then?” Michael sputtered at the question, throwing his hands outward and looking around the room again. His eyes settle on me, and Jim sidesteps to block off his vision. You can no longer see Michael, but the image of him has burned into your mind anyway. You could feel yourself panicking, your heart trying to beat its way out of your chest. This had to be a prank right? He was making fun of you? Now? After all this time?

“What do you mean- Y/N didn’t change his name when he came out!”

“This has nothing to do with Y/N,” Jim quickly tries to interrupt him after hearing your name, but you heard his sentence all the same. Jim walked closer to Michael, leaning down to whisper, but even you could still hear his words in the silence your boss caused. “How about we talk this out privately and continue this announcement later?”

“But-”

“I think that’s a fantastic idea, Jim,” Pam calls out quickly, circling her desk and corralling Michael into his office. He was putting up a fight, but not much of one. Jim followed closely behind, closing the door behind him. You could see multiple faces turn to look at you- as their current entertainment had been dragged away- out of the corner of your eye, but you were still there, shell-shocked. Before you realized what you were doing, you were standing directly outside Michael’s office door, peeking around the side to look in through the window. You could hear them talking still, considering the rest of the office was waiting to see what you would do.

“No, no, no!” Michael yelled out, plopping down into his seat. “I’m serious about this you guys!”

“Alright, let’s assume you are,” Pam begins, but Jim looks at her with an aggravated look.

“Pam-”

“Let’s assume you are,” Pam repeats, pushing Jim away and leaning closer to Michael. “How did you come to this decision?”

“I-” Michael hesitates, looking at his computer, then back to Pam. “Well, I really like girls a lot.”

“Sure, sure, but sexuality and gender are different.”

“I know that, Pam! God!” Michael starts flipping random pens on his desk, trying to distract himself. “I just like their clothes a lot.”

“You like to wear the clothes, or see them on women?”

“See them-” He stops, looking up to her. “I mean, wear them! Yeah, that’s what it is!” His stuttering and determination caused Jim to huff in a humourless laugh, no longer just standing by.

“What’s really going on here Michael?”

“And,” Michael begins, ignoring Jim’s question, “What was that question about what I wanted to be called? Y/N didn’t change his name when he came out?”

“Sure,” Pam agrees, trying to maintain the peace, “But Michael isn’t a very feminine name. Doesn’t that make you feel a little, I don’t know, dysphoric?”

“What does that word mean?” Michael asks, causing Jim to huff again, moving forward to slam his hands onto the table.

“What is really going on here, Michael?”

“Fine!” Michael yelled out, throwing up his hands, his fake hair swinging around wildly. “I don’t think I’m a girl! I don’t like wearing dresses or skirts or-” He spits, swatting away the fake hair that had managed to catch itself in his mouth, “And I’m so uncomfortable in this,” He pulls the wig off finally, throwing it onto the ground. He stands next, reaching for the skirt he was wearing, “Or this-”

“No, no, no!” Pam calls out quickly, keeping him from ripping the skirt off in front of them. “I’ll fetch you your spare pair of pants here soon, it’s at the desk. Just,” She sighs, shaking her head, “What could’ve possibly made you think this was a good idea, Michael?”

“Well!” Michael huffs, pouting as he sits back down. “Y/N got all sorts of attention when he came out. He became cool, and popular, and now I’m not even allowed to make jokes about him! Everyone hates me now, he took my thunder!”

“You can still make jokes about him,” Pam continues cautiously, raising her hands up in a plea to calm him down. “Just, not about the fact that he’s trans.”

“My thunder Pam!”

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Jim begins, reaching forward and grabbing hold of Michael’s shirt. “That stunt you pulled was mean-spirited and heinous. Do you have any idea how you could’ve made Y/N feel? How hard it was for him, not only to accept himself for who he is but to become confident enough in himself to come out to the entire office? Do you realize how much you probably just put him back?” Michael’s face was terrified, and Pam was too stunned at this action to do anything at first. By the time Jim was done talking, she reached forward quickly and pulled him back.

“Jim, that’s unnecessary.”

“I feel it was completely necessary, Pam.”

“He doesn’t realize what he’s doing, he just wants attention.”

“He gets attention every single day Pam! He demands it, hell, he goes out into the office and-”

“Jim,” Pam interrupts, nodding toward Michael. You watch Michael visibly sniff, raising a hand to rub at his nose.

“No, no, he’s right. I’m a nuisance, everyone hates me.”

“No one hates you, Michael,” Pam starts, and Jim scoffs.

“You’re babying him.” She shoots him a threatening look, and he just shakes his head and crosses his arms. Pam moves closer to the desk, looking down at Michael.

“Hey,” When Michael looks up, his eyes are red and glossy. “What you did just now, was that a good idea?”

“No,” He whines out, drawing out the vowel.

“Good, that’s the correct answer. And why was it a bad idea, Michael?” He huffs again, moving to play with a different toy on his desk and avoiding her eyes.

“Because I lied for attention.”

“And?”

“Because I probably made Y/N feel bad. And Jim.”

“So what are you going to do?” Pam asks, and you can’t see her expression but Michael finally meets her eyes and breathes in a deep breath.

“I’m going to tell everyone that it was a horrible prank and that I’m sorry.”

Even Jim startles at this, both Pam and Jim- even you, yourself- having never actually heard Michael apologize for one of his many failed pranks or skits. Pam straightens up, glancing quickly at Jim before looking back. Her voice was full of surprise as she nods, “That’s right. That’s completely right, actually. Good job Michael.” You could see him smile before looking down at his lap, then back up at Pam.

“Can I do it after I change?”

“Of course,” Pam moves quickly to the door, and you don’t think fast enough to move out of the way. The door swings open wide and you are revealed to be standing there, right outside of it. All three occupants turn to look at you with varying expressions, but they all share a similar surprise. You swallow hard, locking your eyes with Michael. You are about to speak but can feel eyes digging into your back, so you take a few steps into the office, past your two friends.

“What you did just now,” You begin, sucking in another deep breath, “Was horrifying- for everyone involved. I’m sure we want to see you in a skirt just as much as you want to be in one.” You lean forward onto the desk, watching Michael shrink away from you. “But let me ask you, how does it feel to wear that skirt?”

“What?” He looks startled at the question, looking to Jim and Pam for help. None arrived for him.

“How does it feel, wearing that skirt? Why aren’t you wearing a blouse with it? Couldn’t find one that fit, or did it feel too uncomfortable? What about the hair?” You nod down to wear the wig laid on the ground. “Was it annoying? Kept getting caught in your mouth, right? Drooped in front of your face, obscuring your vision?” You leaned forward, your breath coming out harsher. “Imagine you had breasts attached to you- and push past your sexuality. Imagine you had them and they couldn’t be removed.” You whisper this last part, your own eyes tearing up. “How would you feel?’

You hear Jim say your name softly behind you, realizing what you were referencing. Michael shook his head for a few seconds before he stopped, widening his eyes. You nod, continuing your speech. “Yeah, exactly.” You lean back, picking your hands off of his desk to rest by your side. “That’s how I feel every single day. Or, did. Until I came out.” You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. “I became confident because I was finally comfortable with who I was. I’m sorry if you can’t find that confidence in yourself. But don’t try to steal mine. Don’t make a mockery of my struggles.” You turn, heading toward the door, toward your desk- to anywhere but here. But Michael’s voice stops you before you’re able to leave.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You turn, looking into his eyes. He seemed genuine, but you knew he didn’t really understand.

“Think about why you are. Then get back to me.”

You pushed your way past Pam, who stood in the doorway with shock and pain written across her face, and ignored Jim’s call of your name as you kept going. You wanted away from these stares, this was not what you meant by loving this damned office. You continued past the breakroom, ignoring your daily cup of tea. You enter into your side of the annexe, seeing Kelly on the phone and hearing a whispered but high-pitched, “What? No! He didn’t?” Before she suddenly looks up, widens her eyes, and quickly says, “Gotta go,” Before slamming the phone down. You sigh and walk around the divider, taking your seat.

Kelly has more social sense than most people in the office, you’ve come to realize. It was why she had applied for customer service- unlike you, who had just taken up an ad from the newspaper. So, she knew better than to try to ask you what happened. She remained quiet on her side of the partition, something that was extremely odd, and it almost felt like you were in your own little world, in your tiny corner. Your desk was pressed against two walls, and the partition blocked the other two sides except for the small gap for your entrance. The partition walls weren’t very high, but sitting down they reached above your head. You felt isolated- something you first loved, then hated, and now feel grateful for once again. It gives you time and privacy to calm down.

After some time, you hear a throat clear nearby, and Kelly’s chair roll as she likely stands to leave. You look up at the top of your divider, waiting for a face to come into view. Luckily, it’s Jim’s face. He smiles softly at you, and you can tell he’s trying to keep the pity from his face, but it's not working very well.

“You didn’t make your tea?” He raises a cup- your favourite cup, no less, that no one else has used since your incident with Dwight- and offers it to you. “I figured I’d make you some. Can’t go a day without your tea, right?” You can tell he was trying, and it warmed something inside of you. Trying for a smile, you reach out to take the cup, taking a sip. It was made perfectly.

“I’m sorry about that,” You begin, sighing and placing the cup aside. “I kinda went a little overboard, didn’t I?”

“Not at all,” Jim rushes to comfort you, circling the divider completely to be inside your little cube. He rests himself against your desk, looking down at you with earnest eyes. “If anyone was overboard, it was Michael.” You just shrug, looking away.

“I mean, what did I expect, really? Everyone in the office has been so good about the whole thing. Ever since I’ve come out, it's been nothing but positivity.” You bite your lip, shrugging. “This office isn’t exactly a positivity-friendly environment.”

“You being trans should have no bearing on your workplace,” Jim insists, leaning forward toward you. “I know the world is fucked, but I want to make sure that at least your world isn’t.” You huff a laugh, shaking your head.

“Oh, c’mon Jim. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” You look up, meeting his eyes with a self-deprecating smile. “It’s not like it's because of you that all of this ended up so easy until now.” Jim’s eyes widen slightly, then wander away as he wiggles his head and bites his lip. You wait for him to agree, then narrow your eyes. “You… Didn’t tell everyone to be nice to me, did you?”

“Well,” He begins, drawing out the word and wincing. “I didn’t quite do that. But I did explain that they shouldn’t act any different, what jokes they shouldn’t make about it, and to look something up before asking any questions. If they couldn’t find the answer online, then they could ask me, and then I would allow them to ask you.” You blink a few times, tilting your head.

“But no one ever asked me anything?” He nodded along, sucking his lips inside his mouth before popping them, sighing.

“Yep.”

“Did they have questions?”

“Oh,” Jim scoffs, laughing. “So many.” He places his hands between his knees, palms together. You couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“Like what?” You feel curious but also dread at the prospect.

“Oh, y’know,” Jim shrugs, moving to mess with some pens on your desk idly, not meeting your eyes. “Just the usual dumbest shit on the planet. I told them all they were absolutely not allowed to ask you, of course, and had to explain why sometimes.” You nodded along, huffing out another laugh.

“I suddenly don’t want to know.”

“Oh, no, you really don’t.” You laugh softly along with him, feeling your chest bloom open, your crush developing further. For the second time today, you were moving before realizing you decided to. You stood, then reached forward and pulled Jim into a hug. He had straightened when he noticed you standing, then stood stiff as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You hesitated, about to pull away when Jim moved quickly, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in tighter. You relaxed once more, laying your head against his chest and closing your eyes.

“Thank you, Jim,” You whisper, turning your nose to brush against his dress shirt. He smelled clean, with a hint of cologne that you couldn’t place. His arms were warm and strong- comforting in a way that you hadn’t felt in so long. He moved one of them up, cupping the back of your head as he straightened up more, pulling you in closer.

“It’s nothing,” Jim stutters out, and you can hear his heart beating under your ear. “Someone’s gotta make sure these folks don’t chase you away.” You laugh, leaning back to look him in the eye. He seems sincere, solemn, as he adds, “I think I would be devastated if you quit.” You chuckle once more, shaking your head as you pull away.

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“No,” Jim lowers his head, trying to catch your eye once again. “I’m completely serious. You are probably the only reason I still show up.” He laughs, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m this old and stuck in this job?” You laugh along, shaking your head.

“You make good money here, Halpert, don’t deny it.” You feel slightly upset you had pulled away from the hug so soon, but you had to look at him after he said that. You had to see if he was serious- Jim is hardly ever serious, always joking around. It was part of the reason your crush developed so fast, and also why it’d always remain a secret. He was so funny, making you laugh constantly. But he was also a bit of a jokester, and you didn’t know if he had a serious bone in his body. Today was showing he certainly did.

You weren’t sure if you’d be able to handle it.

You both spend some more time chatting, and his presence is a balm that soothes your panicked heart. He tries his best to make you laugh- which you do, often- and you finish your morning cup of tea in the meantime. You were sure you could’ve talked to him forever if only your phone hadn’t rung. You shrug with helplessness, reminded that you’re technically at work and still have a job to do. You reach to pick up your phone, apologizing to Jim who waves you off. You watch him walk away as you answer the phone, “Dunder Mifflin paper company, customer service representative speaking.”

It ended up being a quick call, with someone complaining that their shipment was late. You only had to find their account to let them know that the delivery was scheduled for today and the time. Once you placed the phone back in its slot, you raised your cup to your mouth before remembering it was empty. ‘Eh, might as well,’ You think to yourself, pushing to stand and make your way to the breakroom. Kelly is back at her desk as you circle around, and you make sure to say a soft greeting to her to make up for your earlier rudeness. She says a polite and short greeting back with a gentle face, still conscious of your rough morning.

You’re about to pull the door to the breakroom open when you notice the back of Jim standing at the counter. He was hefting a freshly brewed pot of coffee, and you couldn’t help but stand there and watch his arm flex as he hefted it with no problem. You didn’t see the other door open, but suddenly Kevin was walking directly into Jim’s space.

“I have another question.” Jim sighs visibly, shaking his head.

“Haven’t I told you enough-”

“No, this is a different question, Jim!” Kevin seems adamant, and after Jim puts the coffee pot away he takes a side step to regain some personal space. “And you said yesterday there’s a limit of stupid questions I’m allowed to ask a day so I couldn’t ask yesterday!”

“You have until I finish making my coffee.” You’ve never seen Jim quite so indifferent and snappy before, raising your curiosity. For some reason, you still stood there, barely peeking through the window of the door, still holding your empty cup.

“Ok, so if he still wanted breasts-”

“Nope.” Jim was already shaking his head, stirring sugar into his coffee.

“Alright fine, but also. Can he sow a penis-”

“Nope.” Kevin huffs in frustration, flapping his arms for a split second.

“Why do you keep saying no to all of my questions?” Jim finishes stirring his coffee, placing the spoon in the sink and turning to look directly at Kevin finally.

“Because all of these questions are way too personal.”

“How are they personal?” You tilt your head, furrowing your brow. How would they not be personal? Jim seems frustrated, running his free hand through his hair.

“You can’t just ask someone about their breasts or genitals, Kevin. You wouldn’t want anyone asking about your dick.”

“Actually, it’s kinda itchy-”

“Nope!” Jim pushes away from the bar, leaving immediately. You’re stuck between sympathy for both of them. You don’t think Kevin actually knows any better at this point, but you also just felt too awkward to even try to come up with an answer to those questions. However, were these the types of things that Jim had to put up with daily just to vet the office for you? Why would he put himself through all of that?

“He’s really trying, you know?” You startle from your thoughts, turning to look at Kelly still sitting in her rolling chair. You tilt your head in confusion, but also shifted on your feet, hoping to play off the fact that you’d been standing there this whole time.

“Who?” Kelly just gives you a look you can’t quite decipher, continuing.

“Jim, obviously.” She sighs, pushing herself away from her desk and standing. “He’s even asked me for help on occasion. Little things here and there, but he recruits the allies where he can find them.” You purse your lips, leaning back against the wall next to the door, crossing your arms while holding your cup upright still.

“Asked you for help? Doing what? Who else has he asked?”

“I knew you’d figure it out at some point, I just didn’t think it’d be when someone slipped through his fingers. Though, Michael is pretty unpredictable like that.” She shrugs with a smile like she’s trying to hold back a laugh. “His main ask for me was just to intercept anyone trying to bother you- most likely to ask the dumb questions. I just had to send them right back through the breakroom over to Jim’s desk.”

“Did that happen often?” She shrugs again, wiggling her head.

“Not often, but a few times. Mainly Kevin, he has a lot of questions.” You nod, glancing briefly toward the breakroom’s door before resting your eyes on her once more. You study her posture, then try to make a guess.

“The other was Mr Dellicker, wasn’t it?” She winces but nods nonetheless.

“He was a real ass.” She sighs dramatically, moving to lean against the wall next to you and bunching up one of the random, typical office posters that hang around throughout the floor. “He was Dwight’s client, actually. The moment Dwight heard him be even a small bit transphobic, he hung up the phone. This, of course, caught Jim’s attention. I mean, have you ever known Dwight to drop a client? Like, ever?” You shake your head in agreement, and she nods with you. “Yeah, right? Anyway, Jim asks, Dwight answered. To Dwight, that was the end of the entire thing. To Jim, however,” Her smile begins growing as she leans closer to you, “Well, he knew that Mr Dellicker would call back to complain. And who would be picking up the phone?”

“Customer service,” You mumble, absorbed into her story.

“Exactly!” She giggles now, unable to hold it back. “It was adorable, really, the way he begged me to make sure I took his call. He actually asked me to call the man first, but I told Jim I wouldn’t go out of my way just to aggravate someone who, as far as we knew, wouldn’t be calling back after such a rude hang-up. But he wouldn’t let up, so I agreed to keep an ear out.” She huffs now, widening her eyes with a far-off look. “Good thing I did, too. He was such an ass.”

“Thank you,” You say softly, bringing her back to the present. She tries to brush it off but you just shake your head, placing a hand on her arm. “No, not just for Mr Dellicker. For agreeing to help out at any point, just for me. For not making a big deal about my whole coming out, for never treating me any different or- just-” You hesitate, shaking your head. “Just everything, Kelly. You’re an amazing coworker.” You watch her eyes begin to water, and she lets out a wet laugh.

“Wow,” She raises her hands, wiping the corners of her eyes. “You’re going to make my makeup run.” She pushes up from the wall, circling you and entering into the breakroom, heading straight for the girls’ bathroom. You widen your eyes at this reaction, unsure, but take a deep breath and enter into the breakroom yourself. You still had some tea to brew.

You didn’t mean to idle, standing near the exit of the breakroom toward the annexe, but stuck in place watching Jim lean against Pam’s desk through the door’s window on the other side of the room. They were talking back and forth- a lot of laughing involved- and you couldn’t quite place the feelings whirling in your chest. It felt similar to jealousy, but you knew that wasn’t it. Envy? That perhaps she was his type, and not you after your transition? Insecurity?

You startle as Jim suddenly meets your eyes, watching him straighten up quickly. You try to act nonchalant, moving out of his line of sight to grab your lunch from the fridge, and sitting at the break room table. You’d finished your second cup of tea hours ago, and you were a tad overdue for your lunch break considering you had a whole host of emails that you usually respond to in the morning, but had to answer during your second cup of tea since you’d been just a tad distracted that morning. You bite your lip as the events from that morning fly through your mind, a whole host of emotions attached to them.

The door across the room opens, stopping your train of thought in its tracks. Jim walks in with a smile, moving toward the fridge. “Hey,” He greets you, scanning you with his eyes while you just sat there, slowly removing your lunch from its brown paper bag. “Was starting to worry you’d forgo lunch.” You laugh, then proceed to explain your lateness. As he sets his own lunch on the table, you begin to wonder if he waited for you. Then your eyes flicker back toward the door you’d been staring at him through.

“So, how’s Pam?” Jim seems a bit taken off guard at the question, turning to look at the door himself before looking back to you. He shrugs, taking his own lunch out of his lunch box.

“Uh, good, I guess?” He raises his sandwich, ready to take a bite before hesitating and adding on, “She’s excited to hear about that one show you mentioned this morning.” You nod along, watching as he begins to eat his sandwich. You take your own small bite, looking toward the door again.

“She’s cute, isn’t she?” Jim’s eyebrows furrow immediately, and you watch him swallow. He seems to be planning his actions in his head before he performs them, placing his sandwich down.

“What?” He looks around the room aimlessly, wiggling his head. “I mean, yeah of course. She’s cute.”

“You two get along really well.” At this he chuckles, shrugging.

“We’ve worked together for a long time.” You both fall silent, taking more bites of your food. Jim breaks the silence with a resounding, “I’d probably have developed a crush on her by now if I wasn’t gay.”

Gay.

You end up lightly choking on your bite from surprise, playing it off with a cough and a sip of your water bottle. You can see Jim staring down at his sandwich at the table, taking a deep breath. “So, I can see why someone would develop a crush on her. If he was straight.” He glances briefly up at you, then back down to his sandwich. You tried your damndest to keep the look of shock from your face, that it takes an extra minute before you understand what he’s not saying. Did he think you were asking because you had a crush on Pam? You take another sip of water, letting your eyes wander away from him.

“Yeah, same.” Out of the corner of your eye, Jim glances up at you quickly, a look of concentration on his face that indicates his thoughts roaming a million miles an hour. You shrug for show, moving your own food closer so you can take a bite once you finish speaking. “I’d probably have developed a crush as well if I was straight.”

You only recognized the signs of Jim choking since you’d just gone through the same thing, as the man turns to cough into his arm as if to play it off. At least the poor man hadn’t been chewing food like you were. By the time Jim finished drinking from his own bottle, and moved to lean forward and say something, he was interrupted by the door opening and someone entering inside. He leans back, looking self-conscious, and you feel such a deep curiosity about what he was going to say that it burns in your chest. You don’t even register who walked in until she was taking a seat right next to you.

“I don’t know how you can stand it, Jim,” Kelly begins softly, and you look at her with confusion. Kelly never talks softly? “Working right next to the receptionist's desk all day. How do you get any work done?” Jim’s eyes flicker between you and Kelly, clearing his throat.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she’s so hot!” You and Jim meet eyes suddenly, listening to her continue to talk in a soft voice. No wonder, considering she was essentially coming out to the both of you. “When I first started and had to work over in that area, I was getting nothing done. Toby had to ask me what was wrong, and I sorta kinda told the truth that I was extremely distracted. He moved me to the annexe-” She pauses here, resting a hand on your arm with a sympathetic expression, “Sorry, Y/N, that’s why you’re confined back here as well.” You shake your head quickly, rushing in.

“No, it’s fine. I like it back here.”

“You do?” Jim asks with a smirk, and you give him a look essentially saying ‘Shut the fuck up Halpert I’m trying to console her.’ He just laughs noiselessly, his chest shaking as he moves to take another gigantic bite of his sandwich.

“Anyway, it’s so distracting. I had to go get something copied and I stood there an extra five minutes trying not to stare too directly at her. Oscar literally had to nudge me and remind me what I was doing!” She groans, letting her head fall onto the table. “So embarrassing.”

“Oscar knows?” You ask gently, unsure whether she actually realized she told you both. She lifts her head with a sigh, seemingly unfazed.

“Well, yeah. Oscar knows about everyone.” You hear Jim scoff softly, mumbling quietly under his breath.

“Not everyone.” This only causes Kelly to raise an eyebrow at Jim, smirking with humour.

“Oh, he knows about everyone, Jim.” His head was quick as it whipped toward Kelly, leaning in.

“Wait, what?”

“I mean,” She shrugs, glancing toward you briefly before meeting his eyes again. “You’re kinda obvious, Jim.” You can see his eyes widen, but you only feel confusion.

“Wait, how many people are gay in this office?” Kelly only shrugs, refusing to meet your eyes.

“Not my place to say.” You nodded along, obviously that being true. You meet Jim’s eyes once again, and you can see red peppering his cheeks.

“I’m sure it’s fine, Jim.” He nods as if agreeing, flicking his eyes between you and the rest of his sandwich throughout the rest of lunch. Kelly takes the initiative in the ensuing silence, talking about everything yet nothing at the same time. Just as you and Jim are both cleaning up to get back to work, Kelly sighs loudly with an eyeroll before looking toward you and plastering on a smile. The look only made you feel wary.

“So, Y/N, what are your plans for after work?” You swallow roughly, glancing at a wide-eyed Jim, then back to her.

“Uh, nothing really?”

“Oh,” She draws out, reaching forward and placing a flirty hand on your arm. “So you’re free tonight? Want to go out for drinks?” You stutter, pulling away from her arm, your head already shaking as you try to come up with an excuse. ‘Didn’t she just say that she found Pam attractive? What the hell is going on?’

“Uh, Kelly-” Jim tries to intercept, but she pulls away as if nothing happened, shrugging.

“I just meant with the lot of us. Jim will be there too, won’t you Jim?” She looks directly at him, raising her eyebrows as if she was expecting something from him. You look between the two as an awkward silence settles before Jim startles, trying (and failing) for a normal smile.

“Oh! Those drinks!” Jim laughs awkwardly, looking back and meeting your eyes. “Yeah, we’re all going out for happy hour at Poor Richard’s Pub, you should join us!” You relax slightly as Jim was the one offering, no matter how weird this entire interaction ended up being.

“Oh, uh,” You hesitate, still slightly wary. There’s obviously something you’re missing here. “I mean, sure. I have nothing else to do. Who all will be there?”

“Just a couple people from the office,” Kelly quickly answers, standing and moving to throw her own trash away. She turns to look at both you and Jim, still sitting in your chairs. “Well, c’mon! We have work to do, people!”

“I know why I’m sorry now.” You startle at your desk, turning to look directly at Michael Scott with wide eyes. You hadn’t even heard him approach. He circles around your desk, motioning for you to stop your work as he leans against your desk- an unknowing imitation of Jim that morning. “If you’re willing to listen?”

You can feel yourself swallow roughly, the beginnings of a familiar panic starting in your chest. You’re unsure what to say, so you just nod. He nods as well, taking a deep breath before continuing. “At first, I had no clue what you meant. I knew I was sorry, and I knew it was because I had hurt you.” He looks into your eyes, regret deep within his own. “But that wasn’t enough for you. So I started thinking.” He chuckles softly, leaning back on his hands and letting his own gaze roam the walls behind your desk. “And when that didn’t work, I remembered something Pam said when she tried to play along with my- well, yeah. A certain word I didn’t recognize. Dysphoric.”

You feel yourself tense, suddenly remembering the tightness around your chest where the binder lays under your clothes. You can feel the tie around your neck like it was trying to choke you. Michael, unaware of your inner struggles, continues on. “That search was enlightening- it was like everything you had expressed to me. And everything I had felt, trying on those clothes.” He hunches inward, his expression becoming stormy. “I felt so wrong wearing that skirt. And you were right- I had tried a blouse on. I bought one at the store that fit and even brought it home, but it just felt so weird when I tried to walk out of the door with it on. So I switched to my normal shirt.

“Then I was sitting in the parking lot, and I knew that the moment I placed my foot out of my car, everyone would see the skirt. I was-” He laughs humourlessly, shaking his head. “I was terrified. I tried to ignore it- like it was just stage fright, something I had to talk myself into.” You began to nod, intrigued by his story. “I don’t know how I convinced myself to get out of the car- I guess something along the lines of, ‘Well, I’m the boss. The ship will sink without me in there.’” He takes a deep breath, patting his legs loudly. “Anyway, I was jealous.” He shrugs, looking at you with wet eyes. Was he really getting emotional over this? “I mean, you did kinda steal my birthday away from me.”

Memories of that night flash quickly through your head. You’d come out during a party- a party you didn’t know the purpose of. That pink quinceañera cake… You didn’t get to taste it, but they could’ve gotten it because it was his favourite flavour? You hadn’t even seen Michael there. Was he trying for a grand entrance? Memories from this morning flash through your mind’s eye, Michael yelling at Pam, ‘He stole my thunder! My thunder, Pam!’

“It wasn’t planned, Michael,” You try to assuage, wincing despite yourself. “I’m sorry, though.” Your apology causes Michael to blow a sigh out roughly, then laugh and slap his thighs again.

“Wow! I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that.” You’re both silent- you studying Michael’s face, and Michael looking anywhere but at you. Then you start laughing.

“Michael,” You try to talk through your laughter, but you just shake your head and try to get it under control. You wouldn’t want him to think you were making fun of him- you only found him ridiculous- so you try your best to calm down. “Michael. You were upset that I ‘stole your thunder’ on your birthday, so your response was to… Pretend to be a girl? Instead of, oh I don’t know,” You try to hold back your laughter again, choking lightly on your words, “Throwing another party?” Michael seems to take a moment to absorb this- then begins to laugh alongside you.

“Well, that would’ve only been easy, Y/N. When have you known me to do things the easy way?” You both laughed again, and you began to shake your head.

“Never.” When your laughter finally dies down, you meet his eyes once again. Staring at each other, it's like you both finally understood. You thought he was just ignorant, but you had been missing out on important information as well. He began to nod, glancing over his shoulder toward the nearby wall clock.

“Well, looks like I kept you long enough. Time to clock on out!” He jumps up, shooting finger guns before backing up. He trips over the edge of the divider, tries to play it off, and then groans loudly when he sees Toby walking by. “God, every time!”

You chuckle to yourself, then begin the process of shutting down your computer and packing up. Kelly skirts around the divider quickly once the door closes behind Michael, leaning into your space. “Let me drive you.” You hesitate, widening your eyes.

“I’m sorry?”

“To the pub! Let me drive you!” You laugh nervously, beginning to shake your head.

“Oh, uh, no. I have my own car, but thank you-”

“If you drink, you won’t be able to drive home.” She counters, raising her eyebrows at you. You laugh again, shaking your head.

“Well, if we’re all drinking, wouldn’t you drink too?” She shakes her head immediately, crossing her arms.

“I don’t drink at all.” You still feel hesitant, and it must show on your face as she sighs and then leans in. “I’ll tell you Jim’s whole deal.” This catches you, looking back at her to study her.

“What do you mean…?”

“I’ll tell you if you let me drive you!” You huff a laugh, smiling despite yourself. “Yeah, alright. But if I don’t drink, you gotta’ take me back here so I can drive myself home.”

“Deal! And if you do, then I’ll drive you home and pick you up for work tomorrow morning!” You laugh again, shaking your head as you pick your briefcase up, finished with closing down your desk for the day.

“You seem excited about this.”

“Absolutely! I’ve been waiting forever!”

You were still unsure what she meant but followed along with the hyperactive girl as she burst through both of the doors to the breakroom. You watch Jim straighten where he had been leaning against Pam’s receptionist's desk, and smile toward you as you made your way to the exit.

“You know,” Jim starts, huffing a soft laugh and smiling in a way that took your breath away, “I was thinking.”

“Oh,” You draw out, smiling despite yourself, “Dangerous territory there, Halpert.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jim begins, laughing again. He takes a discreet look around before reaching forward to almost take your hand, his fingers tangling with your own but not quite grasping. “I was hoping that maybe I could drive you down to the pub? I know you have your own car and all, but I just want to make sure you’re safe with getting home, y’know?” Your face falls just as you hear Kelly’s voice behind you.

“Oh, don’t worry Jim! He has a ride already.” Jim looks toward Kelly over your shoulder, then back to you with wide eyes, pulling his hand away.

“Already?” Jim looks back to Kelly, confusion clear across his face.

“Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist, Jim!” You feel her small hand wrap around your bicep, pulling you toward the door. “We’ll meet you there!”

You take one last look at Jim through the glass doors as Kelly drags you along to the elevator. You hesitate, mind trying to catch up, before you finally clear your throat and look at her. “No offence here, Kelly, but I honestly think I would’ve preferred riding with Jim?”

“You’ll have the rest of your life to ride with Jim. Just let me tell you what I need to tell you without the risk of Jim hearing us.” You both step onto the elevator, as Kelly begins mashing the button for the lobby.

“Uh,” Your mind is stuck, repeating ‘rest of your life’ and ‘Jim’ over and over. “This feels… Is this nefarious?”

“‘Nefarious,’” Kelly mocks, pulling you once the doors open again. “You say the oddest things sometimes.” You didn’t know which car was hers, but considering she was dragging you along, you didn’t have to guess. She pulls your briefcase from your hands, finally letting go of you, and you just stand in place. She throws your suitcase and her purse into the backseat, then opens the driver's door with a look up at you. “Well, get in!”

It was quiet for a long portion of the drive. You didn’t know what to ask, or how to even broach the subject. Did it seem too eager, to ride along with her just because she promised to tell you about Jim? And what was she even talking about- how would Kelly know more about Jim than you? True, you both hadn’t been friends for very long just yet, but you didn’t know Kelly and Jim were friends?

“So, it started when you started transitioning,” Kelly said, bursting you from your whirlwind of questions. “We all got pretty curious. I was the one who had the theory you were trans first.” She winces, looking over to you. “Sorry. I didn’t know at the time how true I was. I honestly didn’t even know if you knew about it, but- well, obviously you did.” You tilt your head, brow furrowing.

“You all were talking about me before we were friends?”

“Well, you know how the office is. You were changing, and people were noticing. Especially Pam and Jim. Pam, who is such a sweetheart and just wants everyone to be comfortable. She had a feeling you were never quite comfortable at the office but didn’t know how to help. Jim found you hot, which was throwing him for a loop considering he is gay, and normally not attracted to-” She hesitates, tilting her head. “Well, we did think you were a girl at the time.”

You nod along, unoffended. “Right, but-” You scoff, shaking your head, “I don’t know if I believe this story now. I mean, Jim? Finding me-” You almost say the word, then scoff softly and look down to your lap. “Attractive?”

“Well, you are hot,” Kelly confirms, and you look up quickly at her. You aren’t sure what expression is on your face, but Kelly just laughs. “What? Don’t look at me like that! You were hot when we all thought that you were a girl, and you’re even hotter now that we know you’re a boy!” You laugh in disbelief, shaking your head. Kelly continues on, pushing through your awkwardness. “I mean, c’mon! Confidence is sexy as hell.”

You look away, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks as you remember Jim saying something similar. “Sure, but-” Kelly interrupts you, continuing with her story.

“So once you finally came out, Jim had his own little freak-out because it wasn’t just a theory anymore. It is true, you are a dude, and Jim didn’t know if he could handle you getting hotter and hotter every day.” You flashback to another scene in your head, Jim saying something similar to Pam and you laughing, accusing him of finding Dwight attractive. Was he talking about you at that time? Kelly’s voice brings you back.

“Anyway, I finally told him that he needed to get his act together and ask you out already, or I’d do it first. Either ask you out for myself or for him, but either way. I don’t know if I could stand any more of him spewing about you, I mean- all I heard was Y/N this, or Y/N that, or ‘Wow he’s wearing the tie I gifted him!’ I mean, that man can talk.” You hold back a laugh, shaking your head. The one and only Kelly Kapoor, complaining about someone talking too much. That’d be hilarious to tell Jim- if you ever got the nerve together to tell him about this little conversation.

“Ok,” You huff out, shaking your head, “You’re asking me to believe that Jim not only finds me attractive but wants to date me?”

“Well, that’s where we’re going now! So you better believe it.”

“Going now- but you’re here? The office will be there, how would it be a date?”

“It’s going to be a date,” Kelly starts slowly, looking at you with a grin, “Because it’s not an office hangout. I’m going to drop you off and leave, and then Jim can take you home. I only did this to get you both together outside of work, you’ll be all alone with him.” She huffs, squeezing the steering wheel around her hands. “And I’m telling you all of this before the date because I don’t trust Jim to admit anything to you without pushing him for it. If I’m not there to pressure him, then-”

“Woah woah woah,” You interrupt, shaking your head quickly. “I’m not about to pressure my best friend for- for some wild hope that he might feel the same. And I-” You can feel the panic again, pulling at the seatbelt around your torso. “I don’t know if I can do this, I didn’t know it would be just us, I mean-”

“Calm down, it’ll be fine. It’s just Jim, remember?” ‘It’s just Jim,’ You repeat to yourself as Kelly turns the car into the pub’s parking lot. You take a few deep breaths, nodding your head. ‘Yeah, I can do this. It’s just Jim, just normal ole Jim.’ Kelly backs her car into a space, waiting for Jim’s to arrive. It doesn’t take long to notice Jim’s car pulling in, parking in one of the front parking spaces, directly in your line of sight. You take another deep breath, nodding.

“I can do this,” You whisper, and Kelly reaches over to squeeze your arm. That’s when you watch two of the car doors open, Jim and Pam stepping out to take a look around. You hear a squeak beside you, Kelly’s hand tightening on your arm. You look over with concern, watching panic written across her face.

“Oh, Jim, you bitch,” Kelly whispers, shaking her head.

“This wasn’t part of the plan, was it?”

“Absolutely not,” Kelly whispers, then moves to get out of the car alongside you. You both approach the other two, smiles on your faces. They finally notice you, and it’s almost like you and Jim have locked eyes and thrown away the key. You’re unsure what’s really happening between the two girls, not registering the words exchanged. You walk a little closer to Jim, smiling up at him.

“Hey,” You whisper, and his smile widens, reaching his hand out in an imitation of earlier, tangling your fingers together.

“Hey.” He glances over to the other two girls, wincing and looking back to you. “I wasn’t sure- is it okay that I brought Pam?”

“Apparently,” You whisper, leaning closer and glancing briefly at Kelly to make sure she’s sufficiently distracted, “That wasn’t part of the plan. She told me she was throwing me out of the car and driving off.” You note the blush lighting up Kelly’s cheeks as she talks with Pam, before turning your attention back to Jim. You hadn’t realized you leaned in this close- or did he lean in as well? His face was next to yours, close enough to share a kiss.

“Shall we head inside? Guys?” You both jump apart, and you look guiltily over to Pam, who spoke. She only smiled in response, throwing a thumb over her shoulder. “We could grab a booth?”

The night was going well. It didn’t really feel like a date like Kelly had hoped it to be, but instead a nice get-together of a couple friends. You all laughed constantly, telling stories and jokes from the office, while also sharing your own life’s stories. No one really talked about their own life outside of the office while they were working, so it was a refreshing twist on things. You felt drawn even closer to the lot of them- Jim, especially, as he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from you for too long. You weren’t sure, but you thought it was Jim’s leg under the table pressing against your own. You hoped so, anyway.

“But, yeah, Toby is so weird! You guys don’t get that vibe?” Pam continues, giggling as she sips her mixed drink. Jim and Kelly were the only two keeping away from the alcohol, but you had ordered your favourite mixed drink and had slowly been sipping on it. You knew you weren’t drunk yet, but you were pleasantly tipsy.

“No?” You hesitated, trying to think back over the times you’ve interacted with him. It was more often than most since you worked in the annexe, but he always seemed like a nice, if tired, man.

“It’s cause he has a crush on you,” Kelly nods, laughing alongside Jim. Pam blushes, shaking her head quickly.

“Oh, no, of course not.”

“Well, Kelly would know,” Jim points out with a grin, raising his glass to his mouth and taking a large gulp. You watch confusion rush across Pam’s face, while Kelly’s turns a bright shade of red. She mouthed his name behind her cup, giving him a stern look.

“What does he mean by that?” She asks, looking between you and Kelly, then back at Jim. “What do you mean?”

“Oh,” You begin, laughing under your breath. “Just that Kelly has a lot of experience talking with Toby. He was the one who moved her into the annexe, after all. It almost seems like they have a lot in common?” You end it with a question, trying your best to be vague. Jim almost spits out his drink with his laugh, turning to cough into the crook of his arm.

You hear Pam question, “Yeah, why were you moved into the annexe?” Right as Kelly mumbled from beside you, “Not that much in common. Like one thing.” You and Jim meet eyes, trying to keep the humour from your faces.

The rest of the night passed in much the same way. You still were unsure about the whole ‘Jim liking you’ bit but found yourself pleasantly hopeful. And it seemed like- if that was true- maybe Jim was trying to get back at Kelly by teasing her about liking Pam. You began to wonder if that was his plan all along, showing up with Pam randomly. Honestly, whether this was a double date or just a hang-out with friends, you found yourself enjoying the time immensely. But the night was wearing thin, and all four of you had work in the morning.

As you and Pam were helping each other out of the booths, making sure she hadn’t forgotten her purse, Jim and Kelly had run off to pay the bill. You glanced over at Jim- probably with a longing look since you can’t exactly help it, being slightly inebriated- and watched him lean in close to Kelly as they began whispering back and forth.

“He’s a good guy, y’know.” You look back over to Pam, eyes widening. “I don’t know you well enough yet to know your thoughts on him, but he is a good guy. And he deserves the world.” You chuckle softly, nodding.

“Yeah,” You say breathlessly, looking back over to him. He glanced up at the same time, and you can’t help the smile crossing your face. “I think so too.”

“Then tell him,” Pam insists, and you look back down to her. “He deserves to know that. He thinks he’s not worth your time, apparently.”

“That’s ridiculous-”

“What’s ridiculous?” Jim asks as the other two rejoin you and Pam. Pam smiles brightly leaning over to take Kelly’s arm.

“That you have to drive all the way across town just to drop me off, Jim!”

“Actually, we were just talking about that,” Kelly mumbles, and you smile watching her attempt to hold eye contact with Pam unsuccessfully. “If it’s okay with you, then maybe I could take you home? And Jim can take Y/N.”

“Yes!” Pam practically yells out, and you chuckle softly. You look over toward Jim, seeing him already looking your way.

“If that’s alright with you?” He whispers, and you nod immediately.

“Of course it is, Jim.”

“Good,” Jim says, releasing a breath as if with relief.

“Good,” You parrot, reaching forward boldly to take his hand. “Lead on, then.”

Once you and Jim make it to his car, you both wait before getting in to make sure Pam and Kelly are in their car safe and buckled. Once Kelly begins pulling out, Jim turns to you and leans in closer. “I had a fantastic time today.” You laugh, nodding along, leaning against his car and gravitating toward him.

“I did too. ‘Was surprised that Pam showed up, though.”

“Well, Kelly did say it was ‘the office’ going out for drinks. I thought it’d be fine.”

“Well, she didn’t actually mean the office, apparently. She was just trying to get us alone.” You shrug, smirking up at him. His deer-in-headlights look was gone now, for some reason. He seemed bold, leaning closer and taking your hand.

“And if it was? Would that have been fine?” You laugh again, nodding slowly.

“That would’ve been perfect.” His face slowly loses his teasing look, turning serious- but soft.

“Y/N,” Your name is husky in his mouth as he begins leaning closer, and you can smell his cologne in the air. Everything was so much, his smell, his body heat, his honey-brown eyes as he took up your entire vision. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” You whisper in return and meet him halfway as your lips crush together. He pulls the hand not holding yours to your face, lightly caressing your cheek throughout the heated kiss, and you grab hold of his hip with your own free hand, pulling him closer. You can feel him moan through the kiss, turning his head to deepen it. This was nothing like you’ve dreamed of- but oh, so much better.

When you two finally part, breathing heavily, he’s pressing you against his car with the length of his body. You both pant as you stare into each other’s eyes, and your grip slowly loosens on his hip. Eventually, he pulls away, clearing his throat with a blush. “Wow,” He whispers, a smile growing as he looks at you bashfully.

“Yeah,” You agree just as quietly, and Jim moves to open the passenger door for you. “Oh, right. Thank you.”

As you sat down in Jim’s car, ready to be driven home, you can’t help but think: ‘Man, I love working for Dunder Mifflin. Even the bad days can turn into the best ones.’

Tag List: @ltnoscara @zombieboyevan @cursedashes

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

I expanded on this. Sorry, it's longer than I thought it would be.

Vecna's first clue that he had the wrong man was when he went to awaken Eddie Munson as a newly born vampire.

"Get up," Vecna commanded.

Eddie groaned, rolled over on his stomach with his face down in the dirt and his ass up in the air.

"Five more minutes, Uncle Wayne," Eddie whined.

"Get up!" Vecna growled.

"Why? There's no school today," Eddie yawned, his eyes closed. "I am sleeping in today. I am in no mood to receive anyone, dearest Uncle. Please, take my messages."

"Wake up, you fool!" Vecna roared and kicked him in the stomach.

Vecna's powers were weak as he was healing, or otherwise, he would be using them on this idiot.

"I'm awake!" Eddie exclaimed, his eyes opening as he flopped onto his back. "Lord Vecna, I pressume?"

"What?"

"Oh. That's what we've been calling you. It's from my game," Eddie said. "Vecna is a dark wizard with great powers."

"It's. . .acceptable," Vecna said.

Vecna's second clue was when he was going over his plan for Hawkins. He stopped talking when he noticed that Eddie was scribbling furiously in a notebook.

"Are you taking notes?" Vecna asked.

"What?!" Eddie asked. "Oh. No, absolutely not."

"What, pray tell then, are you doing?" Vecna asked, gritting his teeth.

He looked at the pages. Scribbled all over them was the name Steve Harrington, Mr. Eddie Harrington, Mr. Steve Munson, and a list of first names. He pointed to the list.

"What are those?"

"Name ideas for the child that I imagine having with Steve," Eddie said with a sigh.

"Alice?"

"Yeah, that's my favorite. What do you think?" Eddie asked.

"It's a terrible name," Vecna said.

"Okay, rude. You're just jealous that I don't want to have a child with you," Eddie said.

"You're testing my patience," Vecna growled.

"Oh, yeah? What else can you do to me? I'm already dead," he said.

"Just pay attention!" He snapped.

"If I didn't pay attention in school, what makes you think that I'm going to pay attention to you?" Eddie asked.

If Vecna still had hair, he would have pulled it all out.

"Gah!"

The third and final clue was when he brought Eddie to Steve Harrington's house. What else could he do to him? Oh, he'll show him.

"I want you to prove your loyalty to me," Vecna said.

"Okaay. . .I'm not sure how fucking Steve would prove my loyalty to you but I would prefer it if I woke him up and got his consent first," Eddie said, giving a side eyed look. "What kind of monster are you?"

"What?! No, I don't want you to - " Vecna said.

"Look, man, I don't know what you're into but I am not into that," Eddie scowled.

"I want you to kill him!" Vecna snapped.

"What?!"

"Kill him," Vecna said again.

They stood in Steve's room, Eddie gazing affectionately at Steve's sleeping form.

"Aww, but Henry, he looks too cute to kill," Eddie said. "Look at him, I think he's fighting in his sleep."

"Imma kill you," Steve mumbled, kicking out a leg.

"Aww."

"Kill him."

"I shan't!" Eddie said. "To slay a sleeping prince with a greater beauty than all of the stars in the universe would be most uncouth of me."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Vecna swore and Eddie gasped. "Fine, I'll do it."

"Oh, Henry, you really shouldn't have said that," Eddie grinned menacingly at him.

"Oh, fuck," Vecna cursed.

Eddie grabbed his face, flashed his fangs, and bit into his neck. Vecna tried to fight him off, but Eddie was suddenly stronger than him, and he couldn't make a sound as the vampire ripped through his vocal cords. Eddie kept going until he stopped moving all together, and then suddenly, his teeth met air as Vecna's body dropped to the floor. He was still holding Vecna's head.

Steve woke up to the sound of a loud thump. He blinked several times. Standing there, alive and well, was Eddie Munson. Dark blood coated his chin and his shirt as he held Vecna's dismembered head in his hands.

"I brought you a present," Eddie said.

"Oh my god!" Steve said, jumping out of the bed and grabbing the nail bat from underneath it.

Eddie dropped the head.

"He wanted me to kill you, Steve, but I couldn't, so I had to, I had to kill him," Eddie whimpered.

Steve dropped the bat and rushed forward to wrap Eddie into a tight hug. They didn't let go of each other for a long time until Steve finally pulled back.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Steve said and grabbed some clothes from his drawers.

Eddie let him clean his face, a fond smile growing at Steve's determined face. The smile dropped.

"I'm sorry," Eddie said.

"Dude, are you apologizing for killing Vecna?" Steve asked. "Because I should be getting on my knees and thanking you."

"Really?!" Eddie asked eagerly.

Steve blushed and began stuttering. Eddie could hear his heart beating faster in his chest. He smirked.

"What are you sorry for, Munson?" Steve asked with a sigh.

"For not sticking to the plan," Eddie said.

"I'm not mad about that, I knew you were going to do something like that. What I am mad about is that Dustin watched you die in his arms. I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at that piece of shit lying dead in my room who caused that to happen! What I'm mad at is that you died, and I almost lost -," Steve cut himself off.

"What?" Eddie asked softly.

"You. I nearly lost my chance with you," Steve said, ducking his head.

Eddie grasped his chin and tilted it back up to meet Steve’s eyes.

"He couldn't control me, Stevie. It was because of you. Everything about me is heightened now, including my feelings for you," Eddie replied and cupped his cheek.

Steve sighed and leaned into his hand. Eddie moved to kiss him when Steve reeled his head back.

"No fucking way," Steve said.

"What's wrong?" Eddie asked.

"I am NOT kissing you when there are chunks of Vecna in your teeth," he said.

"What? You don't want to kiss this?" Eddie grinned. "Come on! This is sexy!"

Steve ducked and weaved as Eddie tried to kiss him. He pushed Eddie and laughed. Steve dug in the cabinets and tossed him a new toothbrush. Eddie rolled his eyes and brushed his teeth. He slid his fangs out and made sure to carefully brush those too. He made a dramatic point of using mouthwash and tossed it back like it was a shot, gurgling it in his mouth. He spun Steve into his arms, dipped him, and kissed him. Eddie broke the kiss and pulled him back up.

"Wanna join me for a shower, big boy?" Eddie asked.

"Sure," Steve giggled.

"No hanky panky," Eddie said. "Strictly body and hair washing."

"I'll behave if you'll behave," Steve grinned, and Eddie laughed.

All of a sudden, the house started to shake, and Eddie stumbled into Steve’s arms.

"What the hell was that?"

"That was the gate officially closing," Eddie said. "I felt it."

"Are you going to be okay?" Steve asked and tucked a hair behind his ear. "Hey! Your ears are all pointy."

"Oh, yeah," Eddie said. "You like them?"

"Yeah," Steve said and started laughing. "You're not a vampire. You're a fucking cat!"

"Mean," Eddie pouted. "I am a vampire."

Steve started scratching behind his ears and almost immediately Eddie started purring, actual purring.

"Are you sure?"

After their shower, Steve went downstairs and dialed the number for Hopper's cabin. He knew that if they weren't up before, they were now because of the earthquake. Eddie joined him, snuggling up against his back and hugging his waist, purring. Steve smiled.

"Hello?" Hopper greeted.

"Hey, Hop, it's Steve," he said.

"Hey, kid, everything okay over there?" He asked.

"Um, yeah. I probably shouldn't say this over the phone, but I'm not sure what to do with it," Steve said.

"Something needs to be taken care of?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I'm on my way," Hop said.

Steve wasn't too surprised when Hop showed up with his daughter and the Byers in tow. Argyle was also tagging along behind Jonathan. Hop pulled Steve into a hug and immediately began to check him over. Argyle made his way past Hop and hugged Steve.

"Steve with the good hair. It's good to see you again, man," Argyle said.

Hopper growled and pulled him back.

"You okay?" Hop asked.

"Yeah, I'm not sure how to explain this," Steve said. "It's better if I showed you."

He led them to the living room where Eddie was waiting for them.

"Munson?" Hop asked.

"Hey there, Chief, glad to see I'm not the only one who can rise from the grave," Eddie said. "I think our resurrection stories are a tad bit different."

"How?" He asked.

"Well, the bats ate me until I died, and then I became a vampire," Eddie said.

"What's that?" El asked.

"An undead creature who feeds on human blood," Will replied.

"He's harmless though," Steve said. "He only feeds on animals."

"And apparently dark wizards from another dimension," Eddie grinned.

"How do you know he's harmless?" Joyce asked, worried. "How do you know that we can trust him?"

"Well, for one, I scratch behind his ears, and he starts purring like a cat," Steve said, demonstrated it for them. "And another thing. . . He killed Vecna."

"What?!" everyone yelled.

"So, he really is dead," El said. "Will and I felt him die."

"Well, if you need more proof, his decapitated dead body is up in his bedroom," Eddie said cheerfully.

Hop went to head up and stopped El from trying to follow. Jonathan and Joyce had done the same with Will. Argyle followed Hop, and the older man growled at him.

"What? You can't stop me, man," Argyle grinned.

Hopper rolled his eyes, sighed, and went upstairs with Argyle following after him. A moment later, everyone downstairs heard Argyle yell.

"Ah, man, brutal!"

A moment later, they both came down looking a little pale. Argyle clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

"There's blood everywhere, man. It's going to be a bitch to clean up," Argyle said and stepped away to move back towards Jonathan.

"So, what happened exactly?" Hopper asked.

"Well, when Henry so rudely woke me up, he immediately tried to turn me into his bitch to help him take over Hawkins and turn everyone into his little minions," Eddie said. "It wouldn't take."

"Why?" Joyce asked.

Steve and Eddie shared a look. They talked about it briefly before they got here. They knew the question would come up. Steve trusted them, and Eddie trusted Steve.

"Everything about me is heightened now as a vampire: my hearing, my strength, my mind, my morals, and most importantly. . .," Eddie said and took Steve’s hand. "My feelings, particularly towards Steve. He wanted me to kill Steve, but when I couldn't do it, he tried to do it himself. He was still weak from when they tried to kill him, which I think is how I managed to do it."

"You're together?" Will asked.

"As of, well, right before you guys got here," Steve said, blushing.

"Well, there's no reason not to trust him after that," Hopper sighed. "I'm glad something good came out of all of this bullshit."

"Yeah?" Steve asked.

Hopper pulled him into a hug and lightly tapped him on the shoulder with his fist.

"Stay here with your boy," Hopper said. "Jonathan, Argyle, and I are going to dispose of the body."

"Oh man, I am so going to throw up," Argyle said.

"Okay, there are some gloves, bandanas, and aprons in the kitchen," Steve said. "You sure you don't want me to help?"

"You've been through enough tonight," Hopper said. "Let us take care of the rest. That's what you called us for, right?"

Eddie pulled him back onto the couch next to him, putting an arm around him.

"Delegate, baby," Eddie said.

Will sat down next to them.

"Did you always know that you like guys?" He asked softly.

"Yeah," Steve and Eddie said.

Will smiled at them, digging at a piece of thread on his pants.

"Me too, just guys, that is. You dated Nancy before, so is it just guys for both of you or. . .I mean, if you don't mind me asking," Will said softly, eager to know that he wasn't alone.

"I like both," Steve and Eddie said together again.

They glared mockingly at each other. Just then, the phone rang. As Steve got up to answer it, Joyce and El were pulling Will into a tight hug. It had been Nancy on the phone, wondering what happened with the earthquake. When he told her the gate closed, she immediately volunteered to bring everyone else around. When he walked back in, Will was smiling and laughing with Eddie. Steve leaned against the doorway and gazed fondly at the sight. A while later, Jonathan came back in with the rest.

"Well, that took longer than it was supposed to," Jonathan said.

"Why?" Steve asked.

"Argyle threw up on the body," Jonathan said dryly and paused. "And a little bit on your bed."

"Well, he did say that was going to happen," Steve said.

"Better out than in, brochacos," Argyle said, patting his stomach.

Jonathan and Steve shared a look with each other before they started laughing. Suddenly, the front door burst open, and the rest came pouring in. Robin pushed past Steve and threw herself at his side.

"Are you okay?" Robin asked. "What happened?"

"I happened," Eddie spoke up.

Everyone gasped, and suddenly Dustin was pushing past them. His eyes were watery.

"Eddie?" Dustin asked and turned to Steve. "Is that -?"

"It's really Eddie," Steve confirmed.

Dustin started sobbing and threw himself into Eddie's arms. Eddie hugged him tightly, his own tears spilling on his cheeks.

"How?" Dustin choked.

"Vampire," Eddie said, flashing his fangs and wiggling his ears. "Yeah, I can do that. I killed Vecna."

"What the fuck? How?" Dustin asked.

"The power of love, little dude," Argyle said.

"The power of love?" Dustin asked.

"Uh, he tried to kill Steve, but I stopped him," Eddie said, blushing.

"You two are dating?" He asked.

"Yeah," Steve said, and Robin squealed beside him, grinning.

"That's so cool!" Dustin exclaimed and hugged him. "Hey, asshole! Get in here, I want to hug you too!"

Steve laughed and hugged them both. A moment later, Eddie started purring, and Dustin pulled back from the hug.

"Hey! I thought you said you were a vampire!" He yelled at him. "You're a goddamn cat!"

"I am not a goddamn cat! Why does everyone keep saying that?" Eddie whined.

They started arguing when the phone rang again, and Steve slipped away to answer it. A moment later, Steve came back, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes filled with happy tears.

"That was Max's mom," Steve announced. "Max is awake, and her eyesight is back!"

Everyone erupted into cheers and tears. Lucas grabbed Steve’s arm.

"Are you serious?" Lucas asked.

"Yeah!"

Lucas burst into tears, and Steve pulled him into a tight hug, letting him cry into his shoulder. Lucas pulled away to hug El, picking her up off the floor as they laughed gleefully. Hopper tapped him on the shoulder, his own eyes filled with tears. Apparently, there wasn't a dry eye in the house. If Max could see this now, she'd know exactly just how much she was loved.

"Hey, kid, you got anything to celebrate with in the house?" Hopper asked.

"Hell yes!" Steve laughed.

A FEW MONTHS LATER. . .

Everyone was settling in now. Max had healed up nicely and had moved out of the trailer park with her mother. Along with the Munsons, they were given a house as compensation. Eddie was cleared off all charges and was still happily dating Steve. The Munsons and Steve were currently over at the Hendersons for dinner. Steve and Wayne were helping in the kitchen. Dustin and Eddie were no longer allowed to help. Dustin was pouting in his room while Eddie sat on the couch with Mews in his lap. They were both purring.

"Don't look at me like that, Mews," Eddie scowled. "I'm not another cat. Stop it."

A moment later, Steve walked into the living room to find his boyfriend on all fours. His back arched as he and Mews circled each other.

"Eddie!"

"What?! Steve! She started it!" Eddie exclaimed.

"And I'm finishing it," Steve said. "Dinner is done. Don't forget to wash your hands."

Steve started walking back to the kitchen, and Mews gave Eddie a look.

"What? I don't have to listen to him all of the time," Eddie said.

"Eddie!"

"Coming, dear!" Eddie exclaimed and turned to him, pointing his finger at her. "This isn't over."

Mews reached over and licked his finger. She turned around and flicked her tail at him. Eddie hissed at her retreating form.

[gothcsz]

Hi, big time fandom lurker here! For real I rarely pull up into people's inboxes, just out here on main aka in my office cube at work being secretly horny and occasionally telling my absolute favorites thank you so much for all you do. So I wanted to say the latest Unscripted Desire fucked me up so bad. I loved it. As you said, you really locked the fuck in bestie. Frankie in the Ghostface mask was the Halloween version of a Christmas miracle, so I guess just a Halloween miracle? Going to take me a second to recover from that. And really just everything about Javi. Him basically groveling but being still being Javi. I died when he said he's not popping a pill to get hard like out of principle or something and also not giving reader more out of principle, too. It is all so Javi coded! You write the BEST Javi and you're just an amazing writer in general, hope you know that, always so excited whenever you post anything.

Also, hopefully this is not annoying, but I would lowkey be remiss if I did not ask. Have you ever read Roommates by @punkshort? It is a pornstar!Joel series. I only point it out because I fully think you deserve a goddamn Pulitzer for best pornstar!Javi and she deserves one for best pornstar!Joel. No clue how that award works, but it should work that way. She mostly writes Joel so you two probably are not familiar with each other's game, BUT both UD and Roommates WIN pornstar trope in this fandom. Seriously. I would actually fight anyone who says otherwise. Nobody has done it better and I seriously doubt anyone can do it better than you two! I think pornstar!Frankie is still available for the taking though. ❤️

hey diva (gn) ! you're so real for the being horny at work bc like... same 😪 omg thank you so much what the hell !! this is so nice of you to say, i'm like doing backflips at my desk right now no joke !! i def understand the whole lurking thing, it can be kinda intimidating to interact but i finally pushed myself out of my own head and now here we are 🧍🏽‍♀️ DJHFJAKSDFHKASDF

please don't get me started on ghostface frankie bc i will slip into a tangent he's so hottttt it makes me want to peel my skin off. just picturing his voice saying the line... lord have mercy im bout to bust (rip leslie jordan) a HALLOWEEN MIRACLE INDEED! A TREAT IF YOU WILL!

dude i freaking love writing javi like his character is so interesting to me and honestly the type of character i gravitate to when it comes to writingggg and even then i still feel like i'm being a little too ooc sometimes so i have to brainwash myself with narcos clips lol arhghggh so happy to hear that you like my portrayal wtf you got me all flustered, gracias bebe i really appreciate it 😭 and that you're into my writing style too ughhhh on my knees for you rn 🖤

i really wish you guys could look into the dossiers i have in my brain abt this world (or any of my aus tbh) CAUSE LITERALLY OUT OF PRINCIPLE!! so much i could say but yes, we are on the same page.

not annoying and unfortunately i have not read that fic but now you've just given me something to binge this weekend so THANK YOUUU omg not the pppfu (pedro pascal pornstar fic universe) ikdr @punkshort i was unfamiliar with your game 🫦 and every other pornstar au out there we really out here in this subgenre killing it lol pleaseeee no fighting let's leave that to the fictional characters, we're lover girls (gn) out here.

but not seriously someone take one for the team and give us single father pornstar!frankie doing it to provide for his kid ofmgmfgmfmgf

(me to me when i ramble: we do not care)

[specialagentlokitty]

Rosa x reader - getting to know the real you

can i request a Rosa x femreader?? I leave you full freedom for the plot. if you do it THANK U SO MUCH otherwise just know that I love your stories, KEEP IT UP!!!💕💕 - Anon💜

You had no clue what to do with yourself, you stared at the phone in your hand.

You had her contact open, but you know she didn’t want to hear from you, she made that perfectly clear when she told you it was over.

You were over.

There wasn’t a you and her anymore.

You wanted to cry, but you couldn’t, you had cried all you could.

Setting your phone down, you looked around the now empty apartment you sighed and picked up the phone again.

You: we said forever, but I guess we said it too soon. I don’t know what’s going on but I love you Rosa, and if in a year or two or three you want to try again I just pray you’ll call and tell me I’m still on your mind, that you’ll say you want this.

You sent the message and tossed your phone aside.

You knew you weren’t going to get a reply, and as the following morning came around you walked down the stairs and handed your key back to the building manager.

“Can’t believe you’re going kid, it’s gonna be weird not seeing you around.”

“All come visit Al, I just… I can’t keep here…”

He nodded his head in understanding and gave you a gently hug.

Heading to your car, you got in, glancing at your phone in the seat next to yours, you debated on picking it up but you decided against it.

Instead you just started driving, not even daring to look back.

Your phone rang a few times but you didn’t bother picking up, you had a long drive ahead of you and you didn’t want to get delayed by any traffic or anything.

You siblings were waiting for you to arrive, and although your sister offered to pick you up you decided to go alone, wanting the time to clear your head.

And you did.

Over the long drive you used the time to stuff all your emotion away, locking them behind thick doors so you wouldn’t have to confront them.

Finally you pulled outside the home you were oh so familiar with, and you stepped out of your car, phone and bag in hand.

“Jesus (Y/N) you could’ve at least called!”

“Sorry Rebekah.”

You turned around, letting her pull you in for a hug as you rested your chin on her shoulder, taking a small breath as you looked to the open door.

“Is he home…?” You asked softly.

“Yeah, of course he is. He’s been worried sick.”

You pulled away and walked into the house.

You didn’t need to search it, you knew exactly what room he was going to be in so you walked straight there.

Slowly you pushed the door open and stepped in, letting the door fall shut behind you.

You looked at the tall man as he paced back and forth, tossing a ball up and down in his hand.

“Klaus…”

“(Y/N)!”

He rushed around and quickly walked over, wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you into his chest, holding you tightly as you clung to your older brother.

Tears started to brim your eyes again.

“I’ve got you…” he whispered.

“I… I should’ve.. should’ve listened…”

Klaus sighed, resting his chin on your head as he ran his hand up and down your back.

“No, no you had every right not to. You deserve to be happy okay? And if you want I’ll go make her pay for breaking your heart.”

You quickly pulled away, shaking your head frantically.

“No! No! Klaus you can’t hurt Rosa, promise me you won’t hurt Rosa..”

Klaus looked at you, and although he wasn’t happy about what happened, he was furious Rosa had ripped out your heart and stomped all over it.

He wanted to go there and do what he did best. But looking at your face, begging him not too, he couldn’t do it to you.

“Fine, but you just say the word and I promise you I’ll make her or anyone suffer.”

“Just.. just let me stay with you…”

“You’re always welcome, you know that.” He laughed softly.

Klaus led you over to the couch and sat down, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as you stared at the paintings around the room.

You loved your brothers art, it was so beautiful, and it made you smile knowing that his art was in museums knowing full well people didn’t know it was his.

He had a real talent, even if he wasn’t so nice to many people, and he did horrible, unspeakable things, he was still your older brother.

You were his baby sister. The youngest of the bunch, and you knew there wasn’t anything they wouldn’t do for you.

Elijah was away, and you were told he wouldn’t be back for at least a week, so for the first it it was just your Rebekah and Klaus, and they didn’t everything they could to help you.

Recovery was a long road, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

You loved Rosa.

You wanted your whole life to be with her.

“What exactly happened?” Elijah asked softly.

You took a breath, and sighed a little, turning to face him from your spot on the roof where you were stargazing.

“I… I’d been dating her a few years… and she.. well she found out because of some hunters.. I tried to explain her… tried to talk to her.. but she called me a demon.. a monster…”

Elijah felt his heart clench.

He looked at you and reached out, placing his hand on your head, smoothing your hair down a little bit.

“(Y/N), you listen to me, okay? Listen very carefully, you are anything but a demon, a monster. You are so kind, and gentle, and caring. You haven’t ever hurt a soul who has never hurt you before, even after everything that father put you through, you still have such a pure heart.”

You smiled a little, and shrugged a tiny bit not really convinced.

“I guess she’s right… I am a monster…”

“Don’t you ever say that about yourself.”

You jumped a little, turning around to find Klaus climbing on to the roof as well, walking over to sit next to you.

“Don’t you ever call yourself a monster you hear me? I swear to whatever god there is that I will throw you off this roof right now.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Want to test that?”

Klaus went to pick you up and you quickly jumped behind Elijah, hiding behind him as you stuck your middle finger up at Klaus.

“I’m sad! You’re supposed to be caring for me not trying to throw me off buildings!”

“Stop calling yourself a monster then!”

You grinned a little at klaus and he grinned back, opening his arms letting you sit next to him.

You were so caught up with you siblings you didn’t bother checking your phone, in fact, it probably died weeks ago because you never put it on charge.

Walking around the back, admiring the vast countryside behind the house.

“(Y/N)?”

You turned to the doorway where Rebekah was standing looking angry and a little unsure.

“You have a guest.”

She stepped aside and you watched Rosa step out, looking a little lost and very high on alert.

“Want me to stay?” Rebekah asked.

“No.. no it’s okay…”

She nodded and glared at Rosa before she went back inside.

You turned away from Rosa, not really wanting to look at her so you rested your hands on the fence separating the house from the country.

Rosa looked at you, admiring how you still looked so beautiful just standing there, but she quickly shook her head and walked over.

Standing a few feet from you, she copied what you were doing.

“We’ve been trying to call you. I’ve been trying to call you.”

You glanced at her before turning away from her.

“Yeah.. it uh.. it died weeks ago. I don’t actually think I know where it is…”

“Did you check under your bed? You have a habit of throwing it under there when you’re ignoring it.”

You opened your mount to try and defend yourself but you knew she was right. Whenever you were avoiding people you hid your phone under your bed.

“I didn’t look there…”

Rosa looked at you.

“Look… I can’t say I’m not pissed. Because I’m pissed, really pissed okay?”

“Then why come Rosa? If you’re so pissed why come here? Aren’t you scared of the big bad vampires?” You scoffed a little.

Rosa rolled her eyes, walking over she pushed your shoulder making you turn to face her.

“No you moron, I’m not scared. I was just pissed off you never said anything.”

You rose a brow at her and she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not scared.”

“You know I know when you’re lying.”

“Fine, but I’m never going to admit it. But why didn’t you tell me?”

You threw your hands in the air.

“What the hell was I suppose to say?! Hey Rosa by the way I’m a vampire, one of the original vampires, my sister has been dead half my life, and my brothers are a raging psychopath and a sophisticated peacekeeper who cleans up my psycho brothers mess?!”

“Hey! That’s not nice you know!”

You glared at the back door.

“Fuck off Niklaus!”

He smirked and went back inside and you turned to Rosa.

“What the hell was I supposed to tell you?”

She sighed a little.

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know. But how did you hide it so well?”

You smirked a little.

“I’m over a thousand years old Rosa, you think you’re good at keeping secrets? Try keeping them for that long.”

“Shit you’re old as hell. Doesn’t that make you a creep or something?”

You playfully slapped her shoulder and she smiled softly at you, letting out another sigh.

“Look, I’m sorry. Okay? I’m only saying it once and if you tell anyone I’ll break your jaw.”

“You couldn’t, but I won’t tell anyone.”

You noticed your siblings lurking in the background and you hopped over your fence, holding your hand out to Rosa.

She looked behind her and climbed over the fence, taking your hand to let you pull her down and you both walked away.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“I… to be honest? No…”

“What the hell were you going to do when I got older and you didn’t then?”

“Cosmetic surgery?”

Rosa scoffed, shaking her head at you.

“Unbelievable.”

You grinned a little.

Placing your hands behind you back, you spun around, walking backward as you smiled softly at her.

It was that smile Rosa couldn’t resist no matter how much she wanted too she just could. It was something about that soft innocent smile that drew her in.

She stopped walking so you stopped as well.

“Will you answer any questions I have?” She asked.

“Of course, anything.”

So that’s what you two did.

You led her to your favourite flower patch, and as much as she didn’t want to sit in it you did so you both sat there and you answered every single question she had.

From when you became a vampire and how, to what you ate and how often and how you came about it.

Rosa couldn’t imagine you hurting anyone, and from what you told her you never had.

It reassured her a little bit knowing you had the power to kill anyone you wanted, but you refused because you didn’t like hurting people.

She believed it.

Maybe she shouldn’t, but hell she watched you cry for an hour when you accidentally hit her in the head with a cabinet door.

“I moved away from my siblings because well.. I wanted to try live a normal life, and I had a huge fight with Klaus, so I wanted to get away.”

You laid down, gazing up at the sunny sky.

“That’s why you joined the NYPD?” She asked.

“Nah I was just bored when I did that.”

She laughed a little.

“I don’t regret it though, because I wouldn’t have met you. But I regret not telling you sooner, I understand if you don’t want to be with me. Hell I can even make you forget me if you want, If that’ll make it easier.”

Rosa shuffled over, leaning over, hands planted on either side of your head as she looked down at you.

You smiled a little, bringing a hand up to brush her hair behind ear.

“What if I don’t what to forget?”

“I’m dangerous…”

Rosa smirked, leaning down, nose brushing against yours.

“I like danger.”

With that, she leant down and kissed you deeply, one you were more than happy and eager to kiss her back, missing the feeling of her lips against yours.

You heard some cheering and clapping and quickly pushed Rosa away, rolling her over she he back was against the grass and you sat up.

You spotted your siblings and the rest of the 99 team stood not that far away.

“You pervs!” You shouted.

Rosa quickly shot up, looking at them all as they all came over and you knew she was furious with them.

“Don’t.” You whispered.

She looked at you but nodded her head, letting them all come over to tackle you into a hug and ask you about everything and get to learn about your siblings.

You knew it would be a slow start with Rosa, it would take a while to sort everything out again, but something told you that after some time you two would be okay

[all-thestories-aretrue]

I am about 1 million years late to this but thank you for the tag @graphitekayla!!!

Rules: without naming them, post 10 gifs of your favorite shows, then tag 10 people. I'm definitely going to break this rule; you can't give me the opportunity to gush about my faves and not expect me to name them all!!

If anyone has followed me for any length of time none of this will be a shock lmao.

Shadowhunters, and more broadly speaking The Mortal Instruments. My first real fandom!!! I cannot overstate the impact the books and show had on my life. I wouldn't be who I am without it. I have an angelic rune tattoo. Magnus and Alec are some of the first queer characters I remember reading about. I remember where I was when they kissed for the first time in the show. You stupid nephilim lives rent free in my brain. This show (and the books) truly set up the trajectory my life is on now, and I will always always remember it fondly. Even with all the drama and discourse.

2. Critical Role, specifically C2. My first true obsession after the decade long Shadowhunters debacle. I stumbled into it to learn how to play D&D (which I now know is a controversy in and of itself lmao). But my friend @midnightellis wanted us to start a game, and I needed a way to learn that wasn't reading the books, so I started C2. It took 11 or 12 episodes, but then I fell in love. I spent the next almost year watching the entirety of C2 which culminated in visiting them to watch the finale together. I was extremely jetlagged. It was basically 8 amazing hours of nonstop crying. I have zero regrets. Except for the fact I still need to get the tattoo I had planned rip. One day!! I promise!!

3. Arcane!!!! A brief interlude between Shadowhunters and CR. There was about 4 months were I was OBSESSED and watched the entire show like 3 times back to back. I have many thoughts and feelings about Jayce. The show is also just so visually stunning. I cannot wait for S2 to drop in November!!!!!! I know nothing about League but I do really love this show.

4. House. Iconic. What else needs to be said? House is very much a comfort show for me; great to rewatch during the winter. I've watched the entire thing almost three times now, and even got my mom hooked lol. It was fun seeing all her reactions to everything before I moved.

5. If I had known what fandom was when this was airing, I truly would have been all over that shit. But I was 8 and didn't have access to the internet. Aang/Katara def my first otp lol. I did, however, ignore a friend that was over at my house to watch the finale, I believe. I definitely told them to go play so I could watch the show uninterrupted. Needless to say, they were not thrilled with that. I'm 90% sure it was the finale now, but I could be wrong about the episode. ATLA is also another comfort show that I could watch over and over again.

6. Shadow and Bone. I am still SICKENED this got canceled. Genya and David are the ultimate romance, and no one will convince me otherwise. I almost stopped reading when I found out his fate. I was devastated. Everyone in this show is also very pretty. I can't believe we won't get a s3.

I'm going to stop here because this is already long enough, and tbh I'm not sure I actually have four more shows. I can only be obsessed with one thing at a time, and the current obsession is Path of Night. And that does not seem to be waning any time soon.

Edit: Lost should 100% be on this list. I think I've watched it at least four times. My family and I watched it live as it was airing when I was a kid. And it still is one of my favorite shows. I know people got beef with the ending but I truly didn't mind it. Even if it's bad or whatever, I think Lost is still 100% worth watching. There are so many little hints and clues that I pick up something different every time, and each character death hits just as hard.

I'm going to tag: @gelatinouscute, @peppedstep, @midnightellis, @discordkittenterumi, @im-a-vampire-now, @zeena-athena , @syntia13treeman , @sapphicfugue , @dr-thumbs-brand-new-spot

If you want to do this :)

[hologramcowboy]

https://at.tumblr.com/hologramcowboy/did-anyone-else-notice-that-anytime-rumors/w2tij3ar28e4

What got me with her tweet is she can tweet saying she is mad about the shooting in Colorado. Which I still think she only said something cause it was one of the topics trending on Twitter. Otherwise she wouldn’t even bother to say anything. She can say she is mad about guns. But she could not even bother to be there for Jensen during the Rust situation where he was shaken up knowing that could have been him. I’m surprised she didn’t make a instagram post and steal someone’s caption to make it like it’s hers like she always does. She just needs to stay quiet or learn how to actually make posts. Until she can show empathy and compassion for others she should just stay quiet. I hate saying something like that but, when you have someone who lacks empathy or compassion for others they shouldn’t be saying anything. Every time she tries to play activist she comes off faker than her face. So until she can actually learn to care for other she just needs to be quiet.

I agree, she's a classic case of entitled wannabe celebrity trying to hog the spotlight by chiming in on trending topics and doing so without putting in the necessary research, dedication and heart. So her posts just comes off fake. It's best she gets a coach and does her inner work as well as deep research if she truly wants to be an activist, if not she needs to shut up because she's not putting thought into things and it shows. Outside of her slacktivism SM posts she does nothing and you can see this when people put her on the spot by asking her precise questions or challenging her(remember when people try to explain to her that whitewashing MLK was not the way to support BLM? She deleted the post instead of acknowledging her error and opening a discussion like an ally would have) she proves she knows nothing about the things she claims to support and can only parrot back what others repeat beforehand. If she was famous enough journalists would rip her apart for her slacktivism but as it happens she is irrelevant, the issue is she's bound to say something incredibly stupid at some point so I really pray she gets a clue and until then she finds another hobby to purse the spotlight through. I've never seen her do good just to do good, it has always been to pat herself on the back or have others praise her when in reality she does nothing basically so to her "activism" is just another way to play the fame game. Her ulterior motives show and they are ugly.

Also, as you pointed out, she is a hypocrite, when it came to Jensen and the shooting she wasn't even there for him and would not talk about it and even told him she cannot face things like those. Now all of the sudden she's fine? So she's only unavailable when it comes to tending to her husband's broken heart? Only available publicly? Something doesn't add up.

[c0ntr0l-c0re-angel]

I saw your post last night about the Rhys and Jack ship from a writing perspective and I just wanted to say that I don't think Rhys ever hated Jack. When he talks a little about it with Fiona and Loaderbot, he seems really sad and hurt. To me, that isn't how someone who hates someone's guts would react, but someone who feels betrayed and hurt. In the moment where he removes Jack from himself, it was out of survival, Rhys can even say that he's sorry to Jack (which is up to the player, but the option is there). He never says anywhere in the game he hates Jack, and you can correct me if I'm wrong there. And sure, there are parallels with Angel and Rhys but Jack treats everyone like that lol. No hate btw, just wanted to give my two cents on this

Hey!!. We were actually about to make a post talking about how Rhys acts as a foil to Jack. In Doglin's words, The utter antithesis to Jack. Who sacrificed his daughter and like his soul [metaphorically] for money and power. -Doglin.

Saying that Rhys hates Jack can be fairly subjective to playthroughs and interpretations of him, but you can still hate a person and feel sorry for them. Jack was his idol, he looked up to him for years of his life, and in the type of playthrough that mention, Rhys is still portrayed as the compassionate man we talked about in earlier posts. I play that type of playthrough more often than not, but even though it's not said outright, Rhys can still hate him without outright saying it. Often, hatred is an emotion that's expressed silently. Like in the crash of Helios, nothing is ever out right said about how Rhys or Fiona feels when they fall, but we can tell the strong sadness and melancholy not only from how they express, but from Retrograde playing. The song hints it to us outside of what's happening, even if nothing is said.

You can be betrayed, and hurt, and sad, and hateful. All of those emotions can exist at once. In that scene, we got small glimpses to how he might feel that way. Even before that too, where it's evident that he doesn't like what Jack does, even if he doesn't necessarily hate him yet. After the crash, and when Rhys rips off his arm to get away from him, no matter what you choose, he tries to swipe at him with glass out of desperation. Sure, it could be interpreted as just a thing of survival, but with all the other context clues I lean to think otherwise. And about the Angel thing. It's less the way Jack treats him, and more about the way he talks to him. As the playthrough progresses, and the closer Jack gets to Rhys, the way he manipulates him gets very of reminiscent of the way he talks to Angel. When comparing the voicelines, it's more similar to how Jack talks to Angel than to anything else, he's controlling, and in that way he does not treat anyone the same way as they do in BL2. Jack is narcissistic by nature, he's able to manipulate Angel because she's his daughter. They have a close emotional bond, and that's the only reason he can do that. He doesn't do that to any of the Vault hunters because he doesn't know them. He's rude to them, and threatens them, yes, but he rarely attempts to manipulate them in the way that he does to Angel. The only time is before her death, and even then it's out of desperation. He does do it to Rhys, because he's literally stuck in his head. The emotional bond between him and Rhys was never as strong as with Angel, but Jack was around him, and in his head enough to be able to manipulate him in that way. He's nice to Angel and Rhys, he spends so much time convincing them that he's on their side, only to hurt them anyways. Think the Control Core vs Jack's Office. We don't get to see Jack interact with many people, so the extremely similar parallels are too stark to ignore. The combination of that, and the parallels at the end of the game is what makes it so significant. -Splat

[bohba13-writing-den]

It isn't just that.

Will I bitch about Kisuke and Soul Society using Ichigo as a stick to defeat enemies they couldn't otherwise?

Yes.

Will I rip into Ichibe for wanting to turn Ichigo into the next Soul King?

Fuck yes.

But that's not all that's going on here.

Ichigo has a complex about being the one who is relied upon. He wants others to lean on him because that, in a way, distracts him from the pain and misery he has let himself wallow in due to his unaddressed trauma.

This is the first time someone has said he doesn't need to do that. And the first time anyone so much as implied he can lean on them.

All of the adults in Ichigo's life up to this point are deeply troubled people who have often hidden their true selves in ways that make them largely unreliable in providing the emotional support he needs. Urahara is largely detached emotionally and likely would play coy, Yoruichi is hardly around due to her own nature, and Isshin probably has no clue how to handle any of this at all, let alone guide his son through a type of grief he was likely taught to reject or just ignore.

This is the first time an adult has said that kids like Ichigo need to be able to rely on them! This is the first time an adult has rejected him attempting to shoulder their burdens. And that shocks him, because this is in effect that someone looked at everything Ichigo has done and said "that isn't normal."

That's what really gets Ichigo's attention.

this panel really breaks my fucking heart. look at ichigo's face!!! when's the last time he had an adult in his life that didn't use him????? i'm gonna cry

[syllvane]

graphology- kaz brekker x reader

a/n: here it is, my entry to @lxncelot ‘s writing challenge!! i chose to write kaz x reader with the prompt leaving letters/notes in each other’s pockets! hope you guys enjoy!

Kaz’s pockets are almost never empty, but he’s always aware of exactly what he has in his pockets- something as simple as that could mean life or death in the Barrel, whether or not he happens to be carrying a knife or a stone of a particular weight.

That’s where he found your grocery list, in his coat pocket, somewhere between his lockpick and a small stone.

Well, he didn’t know that it was yours, not by the contents of the list alone.

But there was the irrefutable fact that it was written in your handwriting, in the handwriting that Kaz had spent hours memorizing should the need to identify it arise.

He had always imagined that this skill would be used in the unfortunate event of your kidnapping, that he would use it to discern whether or not they were forging any communication or if they were making you write it yourself.

Or maybe he just wanted an excuse to memorize your handwriting.

In any case, there was also the fact that you were the only one at the Slat who would be bold enough to wear his jacket.

Standing in the middle of the street, Kaz Brekker smiled to himself, folding the grocery list neatly and tucking it back into his pocket.

He doesn’t return it to you directly.

You find it neatly folded on your nightstand when you return from your shift at the Crow Club, with no clue to how it got there.

You try to carry nothing valuable in your coat pockets, not as adept as Kaz at detecting when someone is trying to pickpocket you.

You keep a lockpick and a couple of stray knives in your pockets and a small roll of gauze, having nicked yourself on the knives on more than a couple of occasions.

You don’t usually keep stray pieces of paper, so when you feel one in your pocket, you figure that it must be one that you left in there accidentally.

When you pull the neatly folded paper out, it’s not your handwriting on it, but familiar handwriting nonetheless.

The paper is mostly blank, with only ten words written on the entirety of the page.

‘Why do you have so many knives in your pockets?’

You know it’s him by the way he writes the letter ‘k’- the rest of the words could be written by someone else for all you know, but you know that Kaz Brekker wrote that one letter.

You ran your finger gently over the words, feeling the imprints of the letters from the other side of the paper.

You held the paper in your hand and walked back to the Slat and into Kaz’s office.

“You know,” He started without looking up. “Some people have the courtesy to knock.”

He looked up at you, his blue eyes piercing yours before dropping to the piece of paper that you held in your hand.

An amused look flashed in his eyes.

“I could just give you a holster for your knives.”

“I like having the knives in my pockets- they’re easily accessible and-”

“They stab people trying to put notes into your pocket?” He finished, his eyes sparkling.

You smiled at him, your eyes sparkling as well.

“Yeah, something like that,” You said, setting the piece of paper down in front of him before turning towards the door. “Oh, and Kaz?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for giving my grocery list back.”

He fights the urge to say that he didn’t take it from you in the first place, that you left it in his coat pocket. He knows that he should tell you not to use his jacket anymore and that next time you leave something, he won’t be as kind, but he doesn’t.

After all, Kaz Brekker doesn’t make threats if he doesn’t intend to keep them.

He settles for shaking his head, a smile tugging at his lips.

The next time he puts on his coat, he really doesn’t expect another scrap of paper in his pockets.

Once was a mistake, something that could be easily overlooked.

Twice was a pattern.

He opened up the crumpled piece of paper, expecting maybe another errant grocery list.

Scrawled in your handwriting: ‘Stay safe, boss’

His heart skipped a beat as he read the piece of paper and he felt himself blush slightly- thankfully for the cold weather, the note didn’t make his cheeks any more red then they would be otherwise.

He was going to have to address this.

For now though, he tucked the piece of paper in a pocket on the inside of his coat, near his chest, shaking his head at how sentimental he had become.

‘Stop stealing my coat.’

That’s the message you found in Kaz’s own coat pocket and you couldn’t say that it was entirely unwarranted.

And it’s the message that Kaz sees again later when he’s wearing his own coat, though underneath his original message, you had added a single word.

‘No.’

Maybe he should’ve been furious at your defiance, at the very least annoyed that you were going to continue wearing his coat after he explicitly told you not to.

Instead, he looked at the note on his desk with a strange smile appearing on his face, feeling something dangerously close to happiness.

The third piece of paper that you leave in Kaz’s coat, much like the first, is completely by accident.

Only this time, it’s not a grocery list that you’ve left in his coat, but poetry.

And if that wasn’t mortifying enough in itself, of course the words had been written in his name, though it hadn’t been addressed directly to him. It may as well have been though, having been left in his coat pocket.

All of this left only one option- you had to get it back before he could read it.

When you opened the door to his office, you were surprised to see Kaz sitting there, though not as surprised as he was to see you in his doorway.

His expression twisted into something unfamiliar but before you could place it, he coughed and his gaze became steely once again.

“You still haven’t learned to knock,” He said pointedly and you looked around the office sheepishly before stepping back into the hallway, closing the door in front of you.

You knocked.

“No one’s home,” He said, his voice muffled from the other side of the door and you rolled your eyes before opening the door again.

“Liar,” You mumbled, though not loud enough for him to hear. “I need your coat.”

He blinked.

“Last time I checked, you had one.”

“It’s not as warm,” You said and although that was true, it was not the reason you wanted it.

He stared at you, as if sensing that you were withholding information, but he didn’t push you on that.

“Why do you insist on stealing my coat?”

“It’s not stealing. I always give it back.”

“Stealing, borrowing without permission, what is the difference really, when I would never allow it of anyone else.”

You didn’t say anything to that, didn’t know what to say.

It wasn’t new information, but there was an unspoken agreement between the two of you that it wouldn’t be spoken aloud. You would steal his coat and Kaz would be annoyed, as if this was something all the Dregs did. You would give it back at the end of the day or whenever you were done wearing it and he would simply shake his head, a small smile playing on his lips and he would tell you not to do it again.

There was never any threat of reprisal, never any threats at all. It was probably better that way- he was known for making good on his word and he would have never lifted a finger against you.

You trusted him absolutely and it had scared all of your common sense right out of you.

“I am going to go to the Crow Club for business,” He said, interrupting your thoughts. “I am going to leave my coat here. Don’t take it.”

You wanted to ask him Why don’t you just give it to me?, but you stopped yourself- you already knew the answer.

Giving it to you would be crossing a line in his mind, a line that he probably couldn’t come back from. It was one thing to leave it here, knowing that you would probably take it against his direct orders and another to give it to you, to watch you put it on.

You watched as he shrugged the coat off, setting it down on his chair. He walked over to the door, his hand on the doorknob.

“If you leave it here, I’m going to put it on.”

He stopped, lowering his head slightly before turning the doorknob and opening the door.

“I wouldn’t leave it here if I thought you wouldn’t,” He said before walking out, closing the door behind him.

You stood there with his words for a little bit before walking over to where he had set his coat down.

You put it on gingerly, as if Kaz might walk back in at any moment and change his mind.

You slipped your hand into the coat pockets and ran through the list of familiar items: lockpick, a couple of stones, a pocket knife, and a wallet that he had taken from a tourist earlier today.

Also there, a scrap of paper.

You unfolded it to see that part of the poem had been ripped away, leaving the very last lines of the poem in your hand.

‘You are home and there is nowhere I would rather be but in your arms.’

Underneath the last words, in neat handwriting that you had come to know as Kaz’s: ‘I don’t think I could’ve said it better myself.’

[modern-vellichor]

pay attention.

-summary; Steven needs to grow up. He can't pretend forever. -warnings; angst. -a/n; Trista Mateer, The Dogs I Have Kissed

Cairo is hot. It's too hot. You spend your days hiding in the shade. It's still hot in the tombs. Too hot. The pyramids are cooler than the rest of Cairo. The city is sweltering. At least it's cooler in the tombs. You suffer through the heat as long as you're allowed to work. You search for valuable information, anything you can find in the tombs. The art on the walls is full of clues as to what the ancient Egyptians were thinking. And you want to know. You spend your evenings blasting the AC in your apartment and reading about the ancient Gods.

Marc never meant to be involved. But you weren't supposed to be there. It was true.

You couldn't sleep. So you did the most irrational thing you could have done and hiked through Cairo until you got to the tombs. It was unsafe and definitely irresponsible, but you did it anyway. You waltzed through the chambers alone, with your flashlight. You didn't expect to find anyone else, especially not someone who resembled a mummy. A live, walking mummy in your tomb. You weren't scared, although you should have been. He didn't say anything until you were outside. He guided you out of the tomb, away from your work. He didn't say much, just mumbling angrily about how you weren't supposed to be out. Marc just wanted to get you out of the way, but of course Steven had to ruin it.

Steven spilled his guts as soon as he had control of the body. He held you by the arms and begged for help. He said he had read your papers, all your essays and investigation. He told you all about Khonshu and Ammit. You didn't want to believe him. He was spewing such bullshit but something told you that you had to believe it. You had to help.

Marc wasn't happy. But you were unbelievable stubborn and he simply couldn't get rid of you. You proved yourself to be useful anyway. Surprisingly violent, stunningly intelligent. Steven took to you like a house on fire. He loved having you around. He loved the idea of you, no matter how much you berated him. You loved him nonetheless.

Steven spent his nights pestering you while you tried to work. Usually he would stop himself and sit quietly, watching you work over your shoulder. But some nights you had to spit at him, kick him into the bedroom just so he would leave you alone. Marc didn't like you. He didn't have to. But he wouldn't get rid of you, you were too valuable to his case.

You were having a rough night already. Things hadn't gone your way. There was a snake in your sarcophagus at work. One of your junior archaeologists had been bit. And when you finally got to see the mummy, he had been burnt by scavengers. Then Marc came home covered in blood and refused to talk to you and it was past midnight by the time Steven showed face. You weren't in a good mood, and you snapped. He just wouldn't be quiet. You couldn't think. And all Steven did was talk and talk and talk.

You ripped into him. You shouted and argued. Steven just stood there. He was in shock. You had never, ever screamed at him like this. When you were finished, Steven blinked back tears and pulled you against his chest.

"I know you don't mean it," he whispered into your hair. "It's okay. You don't mean it."

You sighed and pushed Steven away.

"I was carving my name into your side and you were calling he soft, calling me gentle. I do not think you were paying attention."

"who said that?" he asked gently.

"Trista Mateer."

Steven shook his head slowly. He needed to wake up. He needed to realize that you weren't an angel. You weren't perfect. You were just like Marc. Just as bad as Marc. And he refused to call you evil.

"You need to pay attention, Steven-"

"no."

"Yes. You have to pay attention otherwise they won't just carve into you. they'll kill you."

You grabbed your jacket and made for the door. Steven didn't try to stop you. You felt bad but you knew it was for the better. He had to grow up eventually. You walked yourself to a hotel and booked a room for the rest of the night. Marc would be furious when you got back. You weren't totally prepared for his wrath. But you'd have to learn to face his fury if you were ever going to get this done.

You had to pay attention, too.

[1994sunflower]

You may have said this but does Michael still talk to his parents or were they in his life? If so an idea could be his parents meeting her and being even more shocked and for even more drama telling her whether its infront of Michael or he over hears that they don't make sense and she deserves someone better

No clue if that made sense. It could be after or before

i've mentioned this before: they’re around but he doesn’t have a good relationship with them so he tends to never see them or talk with them (if he could help it). he feels resentment and they don’t really believe in him or support — especially with how much trouble he became as he grew up, but that was just a consequence of their lack of understanding, regard and belief in him and his potential. 

in which you meet his parents

It didn’t really make sense for you to be nervous. You were the one who begged Michael to introduce you to his parents. His estranged parents. If anyone had to be feeling worried (and frankly, dreading) of the meeting, it should be him. But yet you were the one who kept switching out what shoes you were wearing as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

You were wearing the prettiest dress in your closet. The baby blue color made you look like the innocent princess you were, at least to Michael’s eyes. But you wanted everything to be perfect, you wanted to make a good impression. You needed them to like you. You loved Michael so much and while you knew he didn’t get along with his parents, it would hurt if they didn’t like you for their son.

It didn’t mean you weren’t excited. You were finally going to meet your boyfriend’s family and learn more about his past that he held so much contempt for. And while you knew it had to be for a reason, and a part of you slightly resented his parents for not appreciating their son like he deserved, you hoped this could be a step for them to repair their relationship. With your optimism, there were so many good things that could come from this meeting.

But that’s why you wanted to make sure you looked your best. You’d gone through hundreds of outfits before you found the one you decided on and had gone over in your head all of the polite habits your mother had drilled into you since birth. You’d been like this since the moment Michael had told you he finally asked his parents after weeks of convincing him.

Yet your nerves just an hour before the event had you freaking out even more. “Okay, be honest.” You looked back at your boyfriend who was watching you with an almost bored expression. As if finally seeing his parents again after years of silence between them meant almost nothing to him. “Do I look okay? Presentable I mean…for your parents.”

You had a feeling you knew his answer. It was kind of easy to predict when he didn’t dress up specially at all. He had on a t-shirt and ripped jeans that made you two seem like you were going to vastly different places. But you supposed it fit how little he wanted to see his parents again and less about impressing them.

“I think it’s better than they deserve.” He muttered but eased up when he saw your glare. “You look pretty.”

“I just want them to like me.” You said but moved away from the mirror finally to let yourself be led to the car, satisfied with his approval.

Michael scoffed but stayed silent. It was cute, almost. How you thought you needed their acceptance of you. If anything, it was the other way around. They should be the ones worried right now to be in your good graces. You were the one he cared about, the one he would choose. It didn’t matter what they thought, it never would. The only reason you were meeting them was because you wanted to, otherwise he would have been fine with never seeing them again and never giving them the privilege of meeting you. They didn’t deserve it. And anyway, if they didn’t like you, it would just make Michael so much more certain that they were idiots who didn’t belong in his life.

But he was fairly certain they would love you. You were impossible not to love. He had firsthand evidence of that. Even he, as much of a bastard as he was, was powerless to stop it. He was sure they’d be wonderstruck at why it was you were at his side. Like he still is at times. So he wouldn’t blame them.

+

You’d imagined what Michael’s parents were like for a long time. You weren’t exactly sure what to expect. Granted, you didn’t have the best image of them. Michael had all but cut them off completely and you had to wonder how they treated him for him to be so…stoic and aggressive to the outside world. But despite that you couldn’t stop the big bright smile as his parent’s front door finally opened.

They looked just like Michael. They features all somehow represented in their son whom you loved so much. They were even almost as tall as him, not quite but much taller than you. And no matter what they were like, you think you’d always somehow be appreciative of them, at least a little, for bringing him into the world. So it made sense that you felt the sense of excitement at being in front of them after all this time.

Either you didn’t notice the way they somewhat froze when they took you in or you didn’t care. The way they had almost seemed to be braced to meet who their son whom they had such little hopes for had chosen as a girlfriend. But as their gaze drifted to his side, and downward, they couldn’t stop the surprise from showing on their face. Whatever they had expected, it wasn’t the small girl that looked as if she was the kindest, frailest thing the world had to offer with her big smile and big eyes. Especially not next to their towering son — so little next to him — that looked as if he was the meanest thing the world had to offer as he stared at them with cold, eyes as if daring them to do the wrong thing. The visual was clashing. 

And that was why they couldn’t help but look at each other, lost for just a minute, before you spoke. 

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Clifford. It’s so great to finally meet you!” You stood on your tip toes for just a second as you spoke, like you were trying to make yourself taller but Michael knew it was just what you did when you were excited. When you extended your hand to shake theirs, his parents were even more sure with your manners that this had to be a joke. There was no way this well mannered, sweet girl is dating their son who they had long written off as a lost cause. 

They shook your hand almost mechanically, the silence from them was somehow loud. Your own smile trembled a bit, unsure of whether you said something wrong. You looked up at your boyfriend for a clue, evidently unaware of the shocking visual difference between you and him. But Michael was too busy watching how caught off guard his parents looked, so much so that he almost laughed.

Michael’s mother spoke slowly, hesitantly, still trying to make sense of the situation in her head. “You must be Y/N, Michael’s….girlfriend?” She said it like a question, giving you a moment to say something that would finally make sense to her, that no, of course you weren’t. Because someone as bubbly and naive looking as you couldn’t possibly be her cold, troublemaking son’s girlfriend, couldn’t have captured his heart or been swooned by him. It had to be a joke of some kind, a trick.

But you nodded rapidly, your grin brightening in pride. “Yes! I am. I’m sorry it’s taken so long for us to meet, I’ve been asking Mikey to meet you for a long time.”

Mikey. It was then that their gazes finally drifted back to their son. Whom they had never heard such a cute nickname ever being given to, it didn’t suit him — or at least it didn’t suit their perception of who he was. Mikey wasn’t their son. Their son was a closed off person, constantly in trouble and defying their rules. Uncaring of his own future. Yet, the living embodiment of sunshine was calling him that as if he deserved it. 

They were beginning to wonder if this was a cruel mind game he was playing on them. Until their son wrapped his arms around you, his numerous (more than the last time they’d seen him) tattoos so much more jarring when in front of you who had absolutely zero ink on your skin. You melted back into him so easily, your back to his chest. As if you were completely safe and at ease in his arms when they’d expect anything else — scared, uncomfortable. In fact, you almost looked comforted. And it wasn’t until they took a good look at their son who they saw grow up, they saw something they only could see because they’d never seen it on him before.

Protection. He was protecting you, from them. You were obviously someone important to him enough that he cared for you and they weren’t sure they’d ever seen him like that with another person, as antisocial as he was ever since he was a teenager. He still looked tense, stoic, but there was a level of calm and something eerily close to endearment in his eyes. But they weren’t sure he was capable of that. Yet, they were sure they couldn’t think of the last time Michael looked anything but angry and resentful in front of them. But this time you were there and those emotions weren’t for them, they were for you. 

As they ushered you into their home for the casual lunch they had planned with a few awkward and tense chuckles and greetings. It was clear this wasn’t a joke, this was real. Michael had somehow gotten a girlfriend that went beyond their expectations for him and the questions of how, why, what this meant, were rampant in their minds. You didn’t seem like the type of girl they thought he’d end up with, if he ended up with anyone. And they didn’t know how their visibly delinquent son could be such a wholesome girl’s type. It didn’t fit even having you physically there was proof and they couldn’t imagine how your relationship actually worked enough for you to have been together for this long, this seriously that you’d be meeting each other’s families. Yet here you were.

Michael still hadn’t spoken at all, even when he took a seat next to you at the table. But he knew what they were thinking and it made him want to goad in their faces. Despite their little expectations, he loved someone, had someone amazing who loved him and was making a future for himself without even their support. Your chairs were conspiratorially close to each other but it was obvious by Michael’s position that he was trying to keep you at as much distance from his parents and towards him as he could. He wasn’t comfortable, he wasn’t happy, but his eyes were on you.

Michael’s mother served the food, smiling weakly at you. But it wasn’t in a way that made you feel like she didn’t mean it, it was in a way that made you think she wasn’t used to it. Maybe that was where Michael got his unfriendly demeanor from. But when you glanced at his father, you realized that wasn't true. His father was silent and just from his crossed arms and set jaw you knew he was a hard man to approach.

But luckily, his mother’s words were welcoming despite that. “Well, it’s so nice to meet you. I never thought I’d meet Michael’s girlfriend. And you’re so pretty!”

She wasn’t bubbly, her words were said slowly and calmly but it made sense that a woman like that raised Michael. 

“Don’t know how you ended up with our son.” It was the first words Michael’s father spoke and while you giggled at first, thinking it was a joke, by the way no one else joined you, it might not have been meant as one. You faded away into more of a nervous chuckling. 

“How did you two meet anyway?” Michael’s mother asked and you jumped to hold on to the question like a lifeline as the four of you began eating. 

Them asking questions about you and your relationship was a good sign, a sign they liked you and didn’t reject you right off the bat. And as the questions kept coming, what do you study? where did you grow up? What are your plans for the future? It just made you happier that they were opening up to you. The way they cared to know about you because you were important to their son. From their interest, their approval as you told them your goals, your academic success, you could feel them take a liking to you. 

“That’s great, dear!” His mother and father nodded along, “That’s really impressive to hear.”

But the more they learned about you, the more you couldn’t help but notice their eyes trailed over to their son. The son that, the more they heard about you, the less they understood how he ended up in your life, let alone beside you. Your achievements and personality were nothing like the son they knew, the one who slacked off in school and - with the rate he was going - they were sure would have ended with his future in jail rather than a career or family like the direction you were no doubt heading.

Yet the evidence was there. Especially when they could see each affectionate, intimate gesture between you. The way your hand trailed up and down his forearm in a comforting pattern, aware of his stress at the environment. Or even outlining some of his tattoos, no bit of discomfort at the amount or depictions of them on your face. The way he would lean down, his chin resting on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear. 

The fact that he allowed it, initiated it even, when gestures so familial and loving had long since ended between them and their son. He hadn’t allowed that sort of interaction with anyone. It wasn’t something they thought he’d ever allow. But yet here he was. He was different from the last time they’d seen him, the angry resentful boy that grew to accept him as being. But he wasn’t entirely new. Especially when despite his sweet actions to you, he was as unmannerly as always. But it seemed to be even more painfully obvious with how painstakingly polite you were. Thanking them for the food, for hosting you, telling them how delicious everything was. With Michael glowering, not even acknowledging them if he could help it, beside you.

The more this discrepancy between you two was made obvious, and the more you didn’t seem to care about it, the more their questions turned to being about your relationship.

“So….how long have you been together?” His mother asked in what must have been an attempt to be subtle.

They were kind to you, and you were grateful because it meant despite you being different from Michael and even his family, they still liked who you were. But that didn’t mask entirely just how cautious they were of your relationship. As if they didn’t approve, as if it still felt too foreign for them to accept. And it bothered you, it hurt. Because no matter how much they’d given up on him and his future, you believed in him and knew he had a bright future ahead. One with a family, a life. One with you.

“About two years now.” You smiled, despite your annoyance at the subtle disapproval in her question. 

“And…you’ve been—I mean, it’s been going good?” His mother wasn’t quite sure how to phrase it. Why have you lasted so long? Especially when there was every indication you shouldn’t work.

But even she couldn’t stop the surprise on her phase when your expression practically melted in happiness, beaming with a mixture of pride and adoration. “Yep!” You said, chipper. “I’m so happy I met your son. Honestly, I wish I could have met him sooner…”

It wasn’t anything you’d ever admitted out loud so you trailed off, looking away with a bit of a blush on your cheeks. You were a tad bit too embarrassed to even see Michael’s reaction to your confession. But it was true, you’d thought more than once how different your life would have been if you met Michael in high school, if you would’ve fallen in love much sooner. Because you knew you’d love him whenever and wherever it was you would have met.

But then Michael’s father scoffed and you felt Michael tense next to you. Whether because he felt as if you were being disrespected — the one thing Michael had no tolerance for — or because he knew was what coming next, you weren’t sure.

“Consider yourself lucky you didn’t.”

“E-excuse me?” You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting. Cute baby stories, photo albums of him growing up. But it hadn’t been those disillusioned words. And you almost visibly deflated, your ever present smile fading for the first time that afternoon. It almost hurt Michael to see but he knew this was inevitable. 

“What were you, a straight-A, all-Honors student?” He guessed and you glanced at Michael hesitantly before nodding. “Well our boy here spent his time sneaking out, getting drunk and going out so much he barely came home, school nearly expelled him more times than I can count. God I don’t even know how he graduated. That’s who you would’ve met.”

“Is this you pretending like you gave a shit in the first place?” It was then that Michael spoke his first words of the day to his parents. He gave a sarcastic smile, one that was cold, distant, challenging. “Consider it thanks to your great fucking parenting.”

You turned to your boyfriend, eyes wide with worry — for him, for how he was feeling at the now not hidden disdain of his parents toward him. But also because you could feel this escalating and the last thing you wanted was for a full on argument between him and his parents. Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed him for this. He hadn’t wanted to see his parents and the reason was painfully obvious. The delicate peace — riddled with unspoken tension — had finally ruptured.

“Mikey…” You whispered, placing your hand on his arm as if that could calm him but his fierce eyes were on his father. 

But his father’s eyes didn’t waver from his either. Together, you could see the similarities. The same facial features, the same aloofness that Michael no doubt inherited from him. And definitely the imposing and almost combative spirit they seemed to exude. 

“And he talks!” His father said sarcastically and you waited for his mother to cut in, to stop the tense conversation as the voices started to get louder and louder, verging on screaming. To defend her son. But she just stared down at her plate. “At least you learned something, huh.”

“Yeah, I can say a lot of fucking words. I have a few I’ve been wanting to say to you.” Michael retorted. 

And Michael’s father narrowed his eyes at the unhidden disrespect. He could imagine what Michael would curse at him with, “After all we put up with you, then you leave and don’t contact us for years like you’re the one that needs to get away from us. I have no idea how you tricked her into being your girlfriend. I have no idea how she put up with you for two years.”

Michael’s expression turned almost violent. His voice was loud and angry, matching his father’s. “You don’t know shit about me. And you don’t get to talk about her.” 

His father didn’t deserve to act as if he had any moral (or otherwise) superiority over you when you were so above him in everything. You were kind, patient, understanding, loving. Especially of him, from the beginning. You didn't try to change him or think he was a lost cause. You didn’t give up on him like his parents did when it didn’t suit them anymore. You gave him a love that he had never thought a man like him would ever receive, one he still doesn’t know what he had done in a past life to deserve. His parents could never come close to you. They didn’t deserve to even be able to speak your name, let alone think they could judge you. Or try to convince you that you had been mistaken by being with him.

“Mr. Clifford I—it’s not like that at all. I’m in love with Michael…” You tried to interject with a calming voice. You didn’t ‘put up’ with Michael. He was wrong. You weren’t tricked into being with him. You wanted to be with him.  

You knew what his father was saying — Michael had confessed to you much of the rebellious things he did all the way up to meeting you. It was a lot, it was scary and often it was reckless. You didn’t like hearing it and you wouldn’t endorse it. But you also knew how he stopped all of it once you started dating, you knew that it hadn’t just been him being someone who was worth giving up on but someone who had not been supported or cared for like he should have been. And that wasn’t his fault.

But it was Michael’s mother finally piping in that put the final nail on the coffin. Because her words weren’t one of support that you had been hoping for. “Sweetie, I think it is like that. I’m sure you think you know what you’ve gotten yourself into but…we know our son. You just don’t make sense. You seem like a lovely girl so trust me when I’m telling you that you deserve better. We wouldn’t want him to ruin that like we’ve seen him be capable of since he was a teenager. To end up…like he will."

You’d wanted them to like you and by her words it seemed like they did, but you didn’t want it if it came with them disparaging Michael. The love of your life. Their son. Who didn’t deserve this disrespect. 

They were his parents. How could they say that about their child. Who they were supposed to love and support. 

“No.” Your voice came out more certain and angry than you were sure they were expecting by the way they straightened their backs. You were little but you were just as protective toward your boyfriend as he was with you. “You don’t know him. At all.”

Not like you did.

You’d wanted so much for this evening to be perfect. But they were wrong about him. So it didn’t matter if you were slightly terrified of making them hate you by the end of this, you wouldn’t let them mischaracterize him and make him feel unworthy like he had felt his entire life. 

“Michael is an amazing man who has always made me feel loved and protected. We might be different but we love each other and I want a future with him. And nothing you say will change my mind. He’s made mistakes but he tries. You should be proud of him as his parents instead of speaking down to him. I’m proud of him, I believe in him, I see how special and good he is, especially with me. You don’t see the Michael I know, he’s sweet, he’s funny, he’s understanding and supportive. He’s exactly what I deserve and I hope to be what he deserves. He’s done amazing for himself without any support, he’ll continue to do even better and he’ll ‘end up’ thriving no matter if you think otherwise. With me still at his side. And if you can’t see that or see how great your son is, then that’s your problem. Not his."

And if it was your purity they were worried about…too late. You felt the hurt in your chest for them to think Michael should be with someone unlike you. 

Your back was pin straight as you almost tried to shield Michael from his parents, failing miserably with your small frame but not caring anyway. But even as you were breathing heavily after your defensive rant, you still had the eyes of the kind girl you were even within that scowl on your face. You glanced down just for a second. 

“With all due respect.” You added before returning your gaze to them.

The silence was deafening. They just stared at you and at Michael behind you. Their eyes were wide as if they couldn’t quite process your words but you hoped they did. You hoped they finally understood how much they were missing out by treating Michael like he was only his mistakes and rebellion. 

You couldn’t see it but Michael was staring at you too. Though his eyes were infinitely softer. He’d never heard his soft-spoken girlfriend get so heated, especially to defend him. But he felt a sensation of gratitude he didn’t often feel seize him. He loved you so much. For defending him, for caring about him so much despite how right he knew his parents were. You did deserve better. But you still chose him. You saw him worthy and fought for him to see that in himself. You were the most important person in his life and he was in awe to hear you stand up for him against his parents.

His parents who felt as if they were hearing about a completely new person as they were confronted with a side of their son they didn’t know existed. And perhaps it hadn’t, before you. But the soft gestures between you, the more subdued boy they had in front of them today that they hadn’t seen before were evidence that you weren’t lying. Though the rough-around-the-edges boy they had tried so hard to raise was still there, illustrated by just how cold his eyes were, how snarky he had been to them just moments before. 

But by how passionately you defended him it was clear you were right, they didn’t know their son. And despite their still disappointment in him, their cautiousness, and the way they likely would never change their minds about him completely, they could still be somewhat relieved that he had that kind of love in his life. Even if all that positive influence didn’t come from them.

They didn’t apologize. But things de-escalated. 

Michael’s mother was the first to start it. She glanced at her son, silent, angry looking, and tried to see what you saw. “You might be right. And I hope you are.” But whether she meant about his future, his new present, you knowing him more than they did or their being wrong about him — you didn’t know what she was referring to. But you knew you were right. About all of it. 

So you just raised your chin more and nodded. His mother looked down at her plate and you had a feeling you both were thinking the same thing. You hoped she had a chance to meet that side of her son, one day. If he chose to forgive them. But that wasn’t your choice and you wouldn’t force the decision on him.

The lunch continued on in awkward silence. Part of you thought Michael’s dad may hate you now but even after all that he refused to give Michael even a chance then you may hate him too. And you never hated anyone, so that was saying a lot. Michael’s mother had taken to eating small portions, her mind clearly no longer on the food and being a good host for you.

Michael for his part had abandoned his food. His hand just barely holding his fork but the stroking of his free hand on your arm, your thigh, your back showed that deep gratitude and love that he couldn’t express. Especially not in this environment where he was so tense and vulnerable. You could only imagine how it was when it was just him against parents who had already given up on him.

You took his hand, squeezing it. Wrapping your arms around his muscled arm, hugging yourself to him. Lunch was over. It had been for a while. But before you could do the most impolite thing you had ever done in your life and leave with him in the middle of meeting his parents, his mother spoke.

“I can get you the photos.” She said, then amended. “You said you wanted to see Michael when he was in high school. I have photos from when he was a baby to his graduation. All in one photo album. You can take it back with you, if you want.”

You tensed and glanced up at Michael. You’d already forced him to see his parents again, against his wishes, and put him in this judgmental and awful environment. You wouldn’t betray him by making niceties with them after they’d shown you just how they treated the love of your life. No matter how excited the prospect of glimpsing into his adolescence, what the man you loved looked like in the innocence of childhood — before his tattoos, before he gained his stoic and mean exterior — and just before you met him, in high school when your roads were so close to dissecting but you were completely oblivious. 

And sharing that with his mom would feel so familial, so much like she had already accepted you as her future daughter-in-law. It was almost too much for your fluttering heart to bear. But you would. If Michael wanted you to. 

But Michael would never ask you to. He loved you too much to deny you any happiness. Even if it meant dealing with his parents. So he gave you a soft nod and was at peace when he saw the big smile fill your face again as you turned to his mother and nodded excitedly. 

“I’d love that.”

Lunch didn’t last much longer. The tension hadn’t dissipated either. But despite everything, the day didn’t end in complete disaster. You were a buffer between Michael and his parents like you had been from the moment they opened the door. Michael was still snappy, when his father was staring at him — “What?” paired with a glare—, when his mother offered both of you food for your journey back — “No.”  All you heard was grumbling when you finally stood and his mother thanked you for coming and told you to come back.

But finally, the day was over. He didn’t have to endure this particular torture anymore, he could go back to not seeing his parents anymore, not even having to think of them, and instead go back to his life where he was loved and believed in — by you. 

He didn’t look at his parents when he took your hand and began tugging you towards the front door. But it was hard to miss his mother’s crestfallen look. Though strangely, he knew it wasn’t disappointment in him this time like it had been every other time he saw that expression. It was disappointment at being excluded and clearly unwanted by the side of him only you got to see, one that wasn’t available for her.

You were stuttering out semi-sincere thank yous. Trying to keep up with Michael’s fast steps out of there. Ever the sweet girl you were and there it was again — the wonder in his parents as they stared at you. So polite, so nice even after everything, even when you didn’t have to be. And the complete opposite of their son who was literally walking away without a word. It was still shocking that their son had gotten a girlfriend like you, that you cared so deeply for each other.

But there wasn’t any of that doubt that they had when you had first shown up, the thoughts of how little sense you made. Because that wasn’t true anymore. His mother took your other hand and for a moment Michael stared at her for the first time that whole day. His gaze was angry, at her daring to touch her, at her trying to take you from him. 

But she made no move to take you from his grasp. Instead, she held your hand and gazed into your startled eyes. “I’m happy he found someone who loves him like you do.”

And she had failed as a mother to give him that. But you wouldn’t fail. You felt tears in your eyes when you nodded at her. You couldn’t speak because you know you’d end up sobbing.

You hated how they treated Michael. But you were still glad you convinced him to bring you. Despite the mishap. Because you got them to hear how important and special their son was, mad them see him how you did, at least for a moment.

Michael’s father stood next to his wife, in front of Michael. They were both huge but Michael was just a bit taller. They didn’t touch, they barely looked each other in the eyes. They might visually fight each other until one submitted and looked away first if they did — both such assertive and brute men. 

But Michael’s father broke the ice. He didn’t sound warm, he was tense and awkward but it wasn’t the cruel words he had spoken earlier to his son. So it was a win. 

“We like her. She wasn't who we expected you to end up with but...” Both of them glanced at you for a moment. You didn’t notice, still in your moment with Michael’s mom, photo album in your hand. It was a pleasant surprise for them but shocking nonetheless. “Don't mess this up. She’s a keeper, Michael.”

Michael struggled not to scoff. He didn’t care if they liked you. Their opinion of you didn’t matter — it wouldn’t have changed anything even if they didn’t. The only reason he let them meet you was because you wanted it. In honesty, the opinion that held the most weight was yours. 

But he also knew how much it would mean to you when he told you that they liked you, your whole hope for the day with his parents. So for the first time since he was a child, his answer to his father wasn’t full of resentment and rebellion. He stared at your profile as you smiled at his mother, kinder than they deserved. Kind like you were to your very being. So unlike him. But, despite the odds, his. He knew how much you bettered his life, his future. A blessing and love he didn’t deserve but one he was so thankful for anyway. He was never planning on letting you go.

“I know.”

[leviiattacks]

Lmao Levi being irritated because reader, his roomate, who he still hasn't confessed to yet, gets a cat.

The cat hates Levi but loves reader and reader loves the cat too and it's basically Levi vs the cat someone help

note :: very rushed and not proofread i only wrote for fun because once again i am bed ridden with sickness ha ha the perks of always being sick i suppose T__T

lord, does levi despise the way you act without thinking sometimes

he’s legitimately appalled at how you can manage to always do shit like this

even more appalled at how he lets you get away with it every time

now, what is the shit you have done this time?

brought a cat home a CAT

first things first, you are allergic to cats so he does not understand how that predicament will fix itself

secondly, cats shed EVERYWHERE

as much as he enjoys cleaning he is not going to clean that up every day

thirdly, cats will ruin furniture and claw at it

as well as the curtains!!!!

and levi loves the curtains in the living room because the both of you picked them out together

though it was a struggle to get you interested enough to pick a pair you liked.

maybe that’s why he’s looking at you irked by this all

you’re holding the kitten in your arms playing around with her

“peek... a... boo!”

playing fucking peek-a-boo with a cat? he questions himself in his head

“y/n. we are not keeping the cat.”

at this you innocently look up at him through your lashes

god, there you go again doing that

he doesn’t know if you’re aware of the impact you have on him when you do that

he’s good at holding his composure but that look ignites something in him

but he always has to push that something down his throat

“c’mon, you’d be the best roomie ever if you let me keep her!”

his eyes narrow at the word roomie

is that all he is to you?? a roomie???

you’re holding the cat up alongside your face and are fake pouting

“you. are. allergic. to. cats.” he punctuates every word clearly

“how do you know that?” you ask reasonably shocked he knows something that obscure and random about you

“you like talking about yourself when you’re drunk.”

a memory of him helping you throw up whilst he carefully holds your hair out of your face flashes past

if it were anyone else he wouldn’t have got anywhere near them if they were throwing up

but it was you,

it was always you.

“you rambled on and on and on about wanting a cat as a kid but not getting one because of your allergies.”

“so you would also know-” the cat tries to scratch your arm and you retract giggling

“that i really want a cat!”

“does that change your allergies? poof oh wow y/n you’re no longer allergic to shitty cats because you want one.”

you roll your eyes at his deadpan expression and pessimism

“if you knew anything about cats you would know this is a cornish rex” you now rebuttal

“a fucking what?”

“hypoallergenic cat breed! my allergies to cats are mild so it’s the perfect cat for me”

the crease between his eyebrow deepens.

“do you forget that we live in this apartment together?”

you scrunch your nose looking at your little buddy who has now settled in your lap “how could i forget that?”

he knows you see him as nothing more than a roommate

levi loves you he does but you don’t know that

but part of him thinks you do because you always give him that look when you want something

you’re doing it again.

the look.

“fuck. fine but if that thing coughs up a hair ball she’s out.”

“AAAHH THANK YOU I LOVE YOU LEVI!!!!” you’re ecstatic

his breath traps itself in his throat when he hears that

how can you carelessly say i love you??

you’re happily looking between him and the cat and hand her over to levi

“hold her you’re the dad”

“so you’re the...?” he asks

“i’m the...???” you’re clueless

he shakes his head waving it off

it takes you a moment to understand what he’s asking then your eyes widen

“ohhh the mum? yeah that would be me”

it’s so stupid, so stupid, so so so stupid he repeats it in his head the whole scenario is stupid

but it doesn't stop him from smiling like an idiot

in recent days you’ve given her the names diana, garfield and casper

sadly, none of then seem to stick because you’re too indecisive

it’s got to the point where you barge into levi’s room without asking

you’re in your pyjamas he looks at you confused as to why you’ve walked in with no permission at 2am

in a cucumber face mask...?

“name the cat please, name the cat i can’t stick to a name i’m going to rip my hair out“ you’re gripping at your hair groaning in frustration.

“edgar’

first suggestion, too ugly.

you shake your head

“candy“

second suggestion, no, just no.

you shake your head again in refusal

“zero?“

yeah, no.

another shake of the head

levi ponders and thinks hard “...angel?’

you blush, jump back and look more than startled

fumbling with your fingers awkwardly you edge closer towards the door

he just eyes you weirdly wondering what causes that reaction

well, you must like the name

“is it good enough?” he asks

you’re speechless not knowing what to actually say

“y/n...????”

you snap out of it

“isn’t that something you’d call a significant other not a cat?”

and for once in your life you actually seem kinda annoyed at him

“your cat is an angel in your eyes that’s the point” he’s explaining his point but you aren’t listening

you don’t know why levi saying that word makes your heart race

that’s why you’re annoyed right now

in fact it’s not that you’re annoyed. you’re scared that it triggers this response because this is levi.

levi, your roommate the same roommate who argues about pizza toppings with you. he’s nothing more than that.

but your cheeks continue to flush behind the cucumber face mask

“i’ll ask someone else what to name him just call him salad for now” without letting him get a word in you leave but somehow you forget the cat

salad turns to levi and gives him what can only be described as a menacing look.

“you happy you annoying shit? y/n’s annoyed because i can’t name you”

your cat jumps at him and tries to scratch at a piece of flesh but is held off easily

one cold look from levi and she stops.

“get out my room you pest.” he says as he places the cat on the floor

salad scurries away and levi rolls his eyes

he hates that cat he really does

a few hours pass levi is still up he’s always found it hard to sleep

it’s been a long day he’s just finished a thesis for his physics degree and stretches out contently

to say he’s tired is an understatement but his throat is dry and he needs to DESPERATELY hydrate

he gets to his feet and ventures into the kitchen to retrieve some water then he’ll knock out like a log and fall asleep.

the pitch of your snoring can be heard and he smiles to himself silently.

it’s all good, he’s sure you’re getting all the sleep you need.

“GRRRE”

there it is,

the little fucker, your cat is still up.

“what is it little shit?” levi asks leaned up against the surface of the counter.

salad is only staring at him blankly before turning to look over at the living room.

it’s dim the lights are switched off but levi feels something is feels off

“the hell did you do?” he asks

but salad shows no signs of breaking and revealing what it is she’s done

levi’s going to have to investigate

stepping towards the living room he flicks the lights open.

eyes survey the entire area everything looks good until he sees the way the drapes have been ripped apart

salad is picked up in one swoop she sees how levi is about to throw her out the front door and panics

meowing and struggling just in the nick of time she jumps before running away and slipping into the safety of your bedroom

groaning levi goes back to the living room to see if he’s missed anything.

well, god damn him.

scratches litter the leather furniture, it almost looks like a crossword.

salad has also conveniently taken a shit behind the sofa,

and to top it all off she’s left a dead mouse in the middle of the living room floor

levi. is. infuriated.

“you should thank her for catching the mouse”

you’re hurriedly eating some toast levi has made for you as you brush your hair out and gather it into a low ponytail

“look at the drapes y/n??” he’s exasperated and trying to make sense of your logic

“i didn’t like the drapes anyway we needed new ones.”

you aren’t taking this seriously at all and it’s getting on his nerves now

he runs a hand through his hair and glares at you “i told you taking the cat in was a bad idea”

your hair tie snaps and so do you

all the doubts from yesterday are eating you away. the question still lingers in your mind - how do you really feel about levi?

“do you have to have an opinion on everything i do? you’re my roommate not my boyfriend.”

it’s your fault for letting your anger and stress get the better of you. to be frank you have no clue why you’ve gone and said that.

if you’re honest with yourself you know he’s not a roommate. he’s not a friend either but at the same time he’s definitely not a boyfriend.

he’s more than a friend to you but you don’t think he sees you similarly.

oh how wrong you are

“roommate?”

levi’s question is filled with not an ounce of humour, the both of you know that.

oddly, he sounds displeased,

but you can’t take it back now.

and you hate backing down

“what?” you scoff

he shakes his head and makes his way to the front door not turning to look at you.

“get a grip on that cat otherwise i’m throwing it out”

SLAM!

you’ve done it, you’ve messed it up.

salad jumps up on the counter and licks your toast

maybe, he is right about the cat.

the rest of the week is incredibly busy you have an important economics presentation due today and you’ve done everything you need to prepare for it.

at least that’s what you think,

you’re stood in front of the class introducing yourself and everything seems to be going smoothly

price determination within the economic market might as well be advertised as a sleeping pill because you don’t know how you can get anyone interested enough to keep their eyes open.

but putting your best foot forward an attempt is still made.

“the buyers and sellers accept this price, and buy and sell accordin-”

you’re abruptly cut off by your professor who coughs and then proceeds to leer at you in disgust.

a few moments of silence pass and you can feel your heart hammer in your chest.

suddenly he points at the door,

he’s known for being harsh, strict and a stingy marker but it’s not as if you’ve shown up with nothing done...?

in fact this is the largest amount of effort you’ve put into your economics course since you’ve started it.

being in your usual seasonal slump has held you back but now you’re actually trying he’s saying it’s not good enough?

“your presentation. it’s awful. not enough effort put into it, leave for today.” his voice is rumbling and intimidating.

you’re stunned, you’ve worked tirelessly day and night to finish this off.

you’ve even had to cry over not knowing or understanding how to make pie charts.

interpreting data has never been your strong suit.

too embarrassed to ask for help you had to spend hours figuring out how to make it all work alongside your excel chart and spreadsheet

sighing heavily you speak up “professor i’ve spent a lot of time on this?”

“i looked through the slides. dog shit.” his response is fiery and you shudder at the boiling frustration he’s shooting right at you.

arguing in front of the lecture hall is not what you wish to do and you’re sure you aren’t going to be the only person sent out this way.

just retreat y/n 

you do.

the professor is clearly in a bad mood and taking it out on you, there’s nothing you can do about it.

wordlessly you gather your belongings and leave.

as you trudge back home the feeling of not being good enough sinks in your stomach like a heavy anchor at sea.

entering through the front door is a task and a half through your glossed over eyes but somehow you manage

you’ve kept salad in your room for most of the time after your argument and she seems to actually miss levi’s presence.

so when the first thing you see as soon as you enter is salad clawing at his bedroom door begging to be let in you aren’t surprised.

thankfully for you he’s yet to return from class and hasn’t been disturbed by the sounds.

at least that’s what you assume.

you look at salad and start sobbing

you wish you were a cat.

cats don’t get shit on for fucking up economics presentations that’s for sure.

shaking you try to hold yourself up against one of the walls

frankly, school stress is getting to you.

you tried hard on that presentation only for it to fail when it was worth a quarter of your grade.

A QUARTER...

TWENTY FIVE PERCENT...

salad nuzzles herself against your leg and you lean over to pick her up

she licks at your ear, it tickles and you laugh in between sobs

“you sure are good at comforting people huh?” you’re so worn out your laugh sounds half dead.

it’s all so pathetic. you standing in your living room wailing as you hold your pet cat like a baby.

but she doesn’t mind and let’s you cry to your hearts content.

“MEOW” salad loudly squeaks and you stroke her back but she only keeps at it “MEOWWWW.”

sensing that she’s bringing something to your attention you turn around

there stands levi awkwardly waving at you and you instinctually cover your face with your arm.

the smudged mascara is none of his business.

“wanna order pizza and talk about it?”

pursing your lips at the proposition you slowly lower your arm and scratch at the sleeve of your shirt.

"yeah, i’d love that.”

“KICKED YOU OUT THE LECTURE HALL?? YOU WORKED ON THAT FOR DAYS Y/N, DAYS??”

levi is beyond pissed he hasn’t even touched the second slice of his pizza after hearing how your presentation played out.

“it’s okay, it was probably going to go bad i can’t do anything right.”

levi’s silver eyes fog up in annoyance and you shut yourself up.

“you are the most able person i have met.”

head rocking up in surprise the confession is news to you.

“really?“

“you’re great at making pad thai, somehow you convinced me to keep that cat, i remember that other time you convinced a first year to bungee jump off a building for last years charity fundraiser.”

it truly is endearing how he doesn’t call you smart or witty or hard-working. none of that basic nonsense you’ve heard time and time again from everyone else.

the fact he’s naming the most random things makes your heart swell.

you burst into laughter remembering the first year’s quivering form and you wonder why levi even remembers that.

“if salad bothers you that much i could find a friend to look after her.”

levi looks at you like he’s just come face to face with a ghost.

“no? i like her, she might frustrate me and get in the way when i want to-” he stops himself fumbling over his sentence.

“when you want to?“ you’re leaning in closer intrigued what the rest of the sentence is.

shock flashes over his face but the next second it disappears.

taking a gulp of his water seemingly in preparation he looks you right in the eye.

“when i want to kiss you.”

and that’s all it takes for you to tug him by the shirt and slam his lips against yours, you giggle into the kiss as you situate yourself in his lap. hands ghosting over your hips he’s disoriented not sure where to place his palms but you don’t care. you’ve been waiting for this and despite his sloppy response the fact you’re finally doing what you’ve been fearing the most these past few weeks is only filling you with adrenaline.

“settle down.” he’s panting heavy and ragged. “i was meant to initiate it and look cool what the fuck??” he’s not mad, he’s just playing with you but that doesn’t stop you from getting into the role.

“and if i don’t settle?” you mischievously ask, levi’s hands are cupping your jaw he pushes your hair out of your face and simply gazes in awe.

he makes you feel so beautiful, it’s unreal.

“meow...” salad’s dissatisfied whining can be heard and then out of nowhere in one fluid motion she jumps onto levi’s chest.

“salad if you don’t mind i’m trying to make out with your dad.” you explain with a frown.

she doesn’t budge and instead a trickling sound can be heard, then a foul smell floats into the room and levi screams.

“Y/N THE LITTLE SHIT IS PEEING ON ME???”

[simplepotatofarmer]

technoblade: a takedown pt. 2

(not clickbait) (okay maybe a little)

aka i go over every argument people make against c!techno one by one and determine whether they’re valid, false, or a mixture of both. i rewatched every single stream/video, including those on his alt channel, so i could approach this with the most information possible. i’ll be breaking this up into parts because there’s just too much otherwise. all about the characters unless stated.

techno has a victim complex - false

this is one of the first takes i saw in fandom and it’s always baffled me.

a victim complex is when someone holds the constant belief that they’re a victim, that everything is being done to specifically hurt them, and that no one else feels as much pain as they do, if they acknowledge that other people are hurt at all. that’s the clinical usage. (i know this, on a personal level, because my grandmother was told by two psychologists that she had a victim complex. she left both of them, saying they were trying to paint her as a bad person.)

techno has never shown a constant belief he’s a victim. in fact, he often shrugs off a lot of the things that’s happened to him - when talking to quackity about the execution, he says ‘yeah, that’s fair’ when quackity points out what techno did. 

when techno had his ‘dang, the whole world is against me’ moment, it was in a moment when there were wanted posters for him, propaganda against him. he’s valid in feeling that way and that feeling didn’t even last for long. 

expressing his hurt at tommy’s betrayal (and whether or not you believe it’s a betrayal, techno thought of it as such. i’ll address that in another point.) doesn’t mean he has a victim complex. techno felt hurt. there is a difference between feeling hurt in a messy situation where both parties felt pain and having a victim complex. or being angry at an unfair execution in which your friend is also hurt.

this isn’t a constant thing that techno does, either. he struggles with expressing himself despite being an emotional person. his paranoia that someone will try to kill him is not unfounded and also not something that he brings up constantly. and it’s the constant part that really takes away from the idea that techno has a victim complex. this isn’t his world view. he doesn’t think everything is done to hurt him. he doesn’t believe everyone’s actions are targeted at him. and that is the key components for a victim complex. 

techno killed the bees in new l’manberg on doomsday - ehhhhhh mostly false 

now, i’m not going to say that the bees wouldn’t have been killed regardless. they probably would have.

but the idea techno did it on purpose (which is bizarrely a take i have seen) just isn’t true. 

like, it sucks. bees are my favorite. but take it up with philza minecraft. techno might have given phil the wither skulls but he didn’t tell him to summon them on top of the bee house. 

techno should have been more upfront with tommy: valid

first and foremost, i want to state that techno did tell tommy what he intended. he told tommy that he could ‘sit it out’ when he destroyed l’manberg. he was upfront with tommy but he never truly pushed the issue and he should have. one of techno’s biggest flaws is his lack of communication skills. 

techno betrayed tommy by teaming up with dream: complicated but mostly false

this one is difficult because tommy did feel as if techno had betrayed him and i don’t want to discount what he feels; tommy is valid in his feelings, they’re real.

so the question here is, are they objectively true? did techno betray tommy? 

the simple answer is ‘no’.

techno teamed up with dream after tommy had left him for tubbo. (which i always feel like i have to clarify i think was the obvious outcome and i don’t blame tommy for that.) at that point in time, tommy had already broken their alliance. techno had no obligation to tommy at all. the partnership that they had was based on the two of them not being aligned with new l’manberg. once tommy went back to tubbo and sided with new l’manberg, techno was no longer on his side. there was no betrayal in that. 

the other point that’s often brought up is that teaming with dream, specifically, was a betrayal because of what dream did to tommy. 

there’s two issues with this: first, techno himself said dream is not his enemy. he said this after tommy had moved in with him in his ‘becoming incredibly rich’ stream. techno was only opposed to dream because he was teamed up with tommy. he had no personal grudge with dream. second, while techno certainly knew that tommy was afraid of dream and that dream had done something, he didn’t know the details. yes, the way tommy was acting probably should have been a clue - and probably would be for anyone else - but techno is notoriously bad with people.

now, tommy was certainly hurt by techno teaming up with dream and that’s the reason i don’t list this point as completely false. 

techno has never apologized for what he’s done: mostly true 

but not valid.

the words ‘i’m sorry’ have certainly been uttered by techno and specifically to tubbo before he killed him during the red festival. he has apologized and later explained himself to tubbo, who accepted that reasoning. 

apologies, much like forgiveness, are not owed. they can be deserved, they can be the right thing to do, but it’s not something that a person is required to do. not even to become a good person.

the best indicator of that is changed behavior and techno has changed since doomsday. he’s acknowledged that he hurt people, despite not apologizing, and changed his tactics.

techno has never considered that he could be wrong or reflected on what he’s done: false

if you haven’t watched techno’s pov completely, i can understand why you would think this is the case. 

but techno has reflected on what he’s done. he’s even admitted that not only is he not the best example of anarchism but that he’s not the best person. 

he tells niki that he’s been a bad example and that he’s trying to change that because he wants to lead through example. and this is an important conversation because she’s the first person he seeks out. he knows she’s been affected by what’s happened and by what he’s done.

in the turtle stream, he tells phil that he’s ‘trying to be a better person’. 

this is a point that i see used against techno often and, like the point above, is one of the ones that frustrates me the most. because, again, it is understandable but upon watching techno’s pov, you can see that it isn’t accurate. not only has techno reflected on his past actions, he’s come to the conclusion that he was wrong. his tactics were wrong and he has said as much, has demonstrated that he understands that and is working to change. 

he still believes in his ideals, he still believes that government is inherently corrupt and - this is conjecture - i have no doubts that he wouldn’t resort to violence against a government, in the same way he used violence to help take down the eggpire. violence isn’t inherently cruel. it’s a tool, one that techno used to wield without thought (or because he believed it was the only way he would be heard) but now it’s one that has been tempered. if techno is a weapon, he used to be a crude one and saw that instead of cutting out the rotten bits, he was leaving a jagged scar and changed. 

that doesn’t mean he won’t use violence again, it doesn’t mean that he won’t backslide or that someone won’t be hurt, but it does mean the idea he has never reflected on what he’s done is incorrect. 

techno reflected on what he’s done and realized he was wrong, not about his beliefs, not about anarchy or even violence as a whole, but his tactics. 

if you read this far, thank you. i know last time i said i would be tackling the butcher army but that has been requiring a lot of vod watching from other perspectives to be able to speak on it accurately. and adding it to this would honestly make this post disgustingly long (part one was almost 2k words, rip)

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T for language and mild medical drama

Warnings: Typical Vampire shenanigans

Genre: Hurt + comfort

Summary: Bela is somewhat unprepared to deal with a soulmate who has no clue about her condition, her family, or any of the village's secrets. Thankfully, her sister Cassandra is more than willing to be a bad example. Also there's some fluff.

Notes: For reference, each of my soulmate stories take place in their own contained timeline, since they each involve different types of soulmates. So in this one, Cass doesn't currently have a soulmate.

Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow

2: Tangled Strands

A gentle humming fills the space around you, as fingers slowly run through your hair. As far as you can tell you had fallen back asleep, for several hours, and you were just now waking back up. No longer holding you down, your soulmate is curled up next to you. There’s still a needle in your arm, much to your irritation, but now you can finally see what it’s connected to: An IV for a transfusion. Explains why I’m feeling so much better than before, you think. Then you’re turning your head to the other side, eager to finally get a good look at your soulmate. Instantly you’re blushing, tongue tying itself into a knot, because wow are you lucky.

“Feeling any better?” She asked, as soon as your gaze met hers. You try to stutter out a confirmation, but you’re too distracted by the soft curve of her smile to speak, and barely even manage a nod. That beautiful smile grows wider in response. “Good. I couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering more, after what you’ve already been through.” Now her smile fades, and she looks away for a few moments. Watching it makes your heart ache. So you swallow the lump in your throat, willing yourself to relax, before trying a little comforting of your own.

“I am safe now, am I not? Moreso, we have too much to talk about for us to dwell on the ill circumstances of our introduction. Let us cherish this time, in respite, with our hearts open wide to one another,” you said, donning your softest smile. Somehow your words fulfill their purpose, and your soulmate is once again grinning. Slowly she leans forward to rest her forehead against yours. Then she’s speaking, voice as smooth as the sheets you lay on.

“You are right, of course. I simply wish I could have saved you sooner,” she replied, tone betraying the sadness that her expression otherwise hid. Before you can protest, she continues talking, and you soon forget all about your qualms. “To think I don’t even know your name yet… nor you mine, I suppose. Let’s remedy that, yes? I am Bela Dimitrescu.” Something about her last name feels familiar to you, but not to the point of clear recognition. Instead of inquiring, you return her favor, giving her your own name. She repeats it back a few times, letting the syllables roll off her tongue, and you feel your heart skip a few beats. “A lovely name for a lovely soul, perfectly paired.”

A pause, followed by Bela reaching out to examine your IV. Following her gaze, you turn to the metal hook adjacent to the bed, where a blood bag hangs. Only a few drops remain inside. Just as when you first awoke, Bela gives a soft hum, then rises into a sitting position. Your first instinct is to copy the motion, and you’re relieved when (this time) she doesn’t push you back down. Both of you quietly inch your hands closer until they’re laid on top of each other.

“I wish I knew more about medicine, but unfortunately my family is more experienced in the creation of wounds than the treatment of them,” Bela said, scowling. Confused, you tilt your head at a slight angle, watching her with interest. Am I supposed to know who she’s referring to? My memories of the past couple days are still hazy, you think. “Do… do you remember how you ended up in the dungeon? I know you wanted to speak of happier things, and we can, soon. It’s just… Knowing how you arrived here may help me deal with the consequences of freeing you. Mother will be dreadfully upset that I’ve interrupted a draining, even if we are soulmates.”

“Wait, are you saying…? The intimidating giantess who strung me up and attempted to bleed me dry… is your mother?” You asked, jaw nearly dropping to the floor. This was an unexpected development, for sure.

“You didn’t know?” Bela replied, eyes going wide for a moment. Clearly she wouldn’t have said anything if she realized you weren’t already aware. Suddenly the tension in the room is palpable, with an uncomfortable silence overtaking the two of you. In the moment, you cannot even bring yourself to look at Bela, too stunned by this new knowledge. Eventually she breaks the silence, voice sounding unsure for once. “I realize that this is a lot to take in, if you need time to process it, I… I can go. But you need to understand that our situation is far more complicated than it might appear. We cannot survive without the blood of others- it is what sustains us when nothing else can.”

Now you’re staring at her like she’s crazy, and she’s standing up, moving to the other side of the room. She draws back a curtain, gazing out into the snow covered hills. Every muscle in your body is urging you to run while she’s distracted. Thread of fate be damned, this went far beyond anything you had ever imagined having to deal with. You come so close to ripping the IV right out of your arm. But a gentle tug on your soul string makes you pause, remembering all the times this bond gave you hope in dark times. Had she felt the same way, all these years? What had she gone through, in this absurd castle, on the very edges of civilization? You pull on the red thread, feeling a wave of composure wash over you.

“It appears there is much I need to learn. But is that not the very nature of our connection? We know, simply, that we are bound to each other, though we know not what shapes our souls take so that we might put them together, nor even what roles we must play. I cannot say that I understand your plight, my dear, but I will try, as is my obligation, and my honor,” you said, wishing you could hold her, and cursing your IV. As soon as the first word leaves your mouth, Bela is turning around, watching you with a bittersweet expression. Once you’re done she’s moving closer, as if reading your mind, extending a hand to cup your cheek. Then she leans forward to press a brief kiss to your forehead. “Oh, how I have longed for this- to be with you, to get to know you.”

“As did I,” she murmured. You can’t help but lean into her touch, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment. “Perhaps I should introduce you to my family? I imagine you’ll be needing breakfast anyway, and bringing human food back to my quarters would raise more suspicion than I’d like.” Well, the moment couldn’t last forever, could it?

“Only if you promise that your mother won’t suspend me by my wrists again. Or by any other part of me. Shall we simply put suspension off the table altogether?” You asked, half teasing. To be entirely honest, you were equally worried about Bela’s sisters. Well, the people you had heard other prisoners whispering about, who were the daughters of the giantess, and by connecting a few dots were also, presumably, Bela’s sisters. Apparently they preferred to play with their food. Unless, of course, Bela was one of the daughters you had heard about, and would have easily torn into you if not for your connection. Let’s not dwell on that concept, you think, glad to be distracted by your soulmate.

“I will not let anyone harm you anymore, my beloved. My mother would not stand so firmly in the way of my happiness,” Bela reassured, though you detected a hint of uncertainty in her tone. Still, there wasn’t much you could do other than trust her. “Now, let me take care of your bandages, then we’ll head downstairs…”

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

“Who the fuck is this?” An unfamiliar voice asked, as you meandered down the corridor, arm around Bela for support. As soon as she hears the person speak, your soulmate is freezing in place, casting a worried glance over her shoulder. When you turn as well, you spot someone dressed almost identically to Bela. However, the woman wears a yellow pendant, as opposed to a red one, and her hair is a dark brown. It feels safe to assume that she’s one of the sisters you’ve heard about. Which understandably makes you nervous, to the point where you almost want to hide behind Bela. Instead, you stand tall, attempting to seem unfazed by either her presence or her vulgarity.

“Mind your manners, Cassandra,” Bela hissed, taking more of an aggressive stance than you had anticipated. “This, dear sister, is my soulmate. And if you even think about harming them, or getting in our way, I will tear you apart.” While you’re downright shocked at the intensity of Bela’s statement, her sister doesn’t look at all impressed, and eyes you with minimal interest. Better than looking at you with hatred, right? Apparently not, as Bela moves to stand between the two of you, eyes narrowed. There’s a clear stiffness in her posture that leaves you anxious. Cassandra seems to notice it as well, and laughs, before taking a few steps in your direction. Then your soulmate mimics the movement, forcing you to do so as well.

“They’re human,” Cassandra snapped, pausing to sniff the air and scowl. “Here I thought your soulmate would have to be special, if they’re to compare to your ego. You’re disappointed, aren’t you? Having to settle for this.” With that she shifts, flesh writhing, making your stomach churn as you watch her disintegrate into a cloud of… flies? What the hell is wrong with this family? Can Bela do that too? I hope not, you think. Soon you’re pulled from your thoughts, however, as the swarm circles around you, single insects occasionally surging forward to cut at your skin. But Bela is grabbing you by the sleeve and tugging you to her chest, moving against a wall so that her body shielded your own. Your eyes clamp shut as you shake in her arms. When the buzzing stops, it is quickly replaced with cruel laughter. “That fragile, hmm? I can’t wait to see what mother thinks. See you at breakfast, sister!”

Then the two of you are alone, still pressed against the wall, staying still until the sound of footsteps fade. You’re stunned, unsure of how to react. The fact that a few drops of blood roll down your cheek only makes things worse. Still, Bela managed to prevent you from getting too hurt, and the few wounds on your body are negligible. Ever filled with gratitude, you hold her close as you try to stutter out a few sentences.

“Is she always this hostile, or am I truly not what you had expected? No, pay me no mind, it hardly matters. Thank you for protecting me,” you whispered. In response, Bela gives you a little squeeze, then pulls back enough to wipe the blood from your face. There’s a hint of something odd in her expression, which you interpret to be related to her apparent ‘need for blood’. Thankfully, she is in perfect control, and does not frenzy the same way you had read about fictional vampires doing. But she does hesitate, words dying on her tongue, like there are a thousand things she wants to say, and no words to say them with. “It’s alright, my dear. Let’s just go to breakfast, like we planned, and hope your sister behaves better when supervised.”

Bela nods, quickly, before taking your hand in her own. Whatever awaited you in the dining room, the two of you would be ready. Hopefully.