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abronzeagegod · 1 year ago

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ETS WIP Chapter 8: The Time Between

Aeth took two weeks off. They needed and it, and honestly after everything that had happened, they just wanted to be without technology more complicated than their microwave for a while.

Part of the problem was the dreams.

The hospital had medical grade wards against dreams and outside interference. Along with the drugs, they prolonged the subconscious torture that Aeth always seemed to save up for themself.

The first long stretch of their time off was just fixing their sleep schedule, trying to get rest, and letting the nighttime horrors play themselves out.

It was a less than ideal situation.

They saw Lyta a few times over the extended break. She still had to work, and Aeth was terrible company in the beginning when they still weren't fully sleeping. She would drop off some food and stuff for Aeth, but left them to their own devices and spaces.

Lyta knew when to pull, when to push, and when to leave well enough alone.

Eventually, Aeth did start to feel better, to sleep better, but they were stuck in their routine of feeling bad for themself and not doing anything.

The routine that had helped them recover from the events their went through had started to become the crutch that was holding them back.

Finally, what broke them out of the habit of feeling bad for themselves was a phone call.

Aeth reluctantly answered the phone.

"Hello, this is Jer Ollowollu, you assisted me and my family with our computer and the small god we had in it," the voice on the other side of the phone.

Instantly Aeth's mood shifted. "Yes, I remember. How is everything going?"

"Well! We're actually expecting our little god to be cleared in the coming days. In the meantime we're looking for a computer to put them in. Something stable and we can use for a while without having any work or maintenance or upgrades we'll need to do. We hoped you would have a recommendation for us, and maybe help us put everything together with the Lance Corporal returns."

"Of course, I can send you a couple of recommendations tomorrow," Aeth said. "And we can get an install and tutorial set up for a few days from now, so that everything is ready."

They set up a time to install a computer and quickly sent an email of some good computers that the company had on hand that would fit the needs of the small family.

After that was done, Aeth sent an email to their boss. They would be back to work tomorrow.

<run-script-timejump></script>

Returning to work felt odd.

It wasn't that they had finally broken out of their routine of mild depression and were forcing themself out and into a new routine. It was that everyone at work was behaving oddly.

One of the first things Aeth noticed when they got in was that their coworker Yir was at the fridge pulling out a canned triple espresso drink. Which was something she had sworn off a few months ago because it was very badly effecting her mood and sleep since she had found herself drinking too many a day. Even her doctor had told her to slow down on the high caffeine drinks.

"Yir, you OK?" Aeth asked as they put their things away in their locker.

"Great, what's it to you?" she snapped.

"You haven't been drinking that stuff in a while, I was concerned."

"Thanks for being my parent, I'm so glad you're concerned. Fuck off."

Yir stopped off, drinking their caffeine down at a pace that seemed unhealthy. Aeth was left feeling attacked and like today was going to be a long day.

Aeth already found their mood souring and it was hard to not reflect the general feeling of animosity back at everyone.

They worked really hard to keep their customer service voice calm and steady on the phone but even the people calling in were being rude, mean, and demanding impossible things.

Sure enough it was a very long, very tiring day.

As Aeth was clocking out and getting ready to go, they found Lyta coming back in from being out in the field.

"These dumbasses!" Lyta loudly yelled at her phone, her anger was radiating off of her, almost turning up the room's temperature.

"You too?" Aeth asked.

"What?" Lyta asked looking up from her phone finally.

"Everyone seems to be having a day today and it's exhausting."

"Yeah, it's just a good day to be mad at shit," Lyta said. A moment later she finally put her phone away. "How was your day? Was it good to be back?"

Aeth shrugged. "Fine, but people everywhere have been really annoying."

"Let's go find something to eat, and then we can sit in front of the TV," Lyta offered.

"That sounds good."

When they found themselves at Lyta's place with some takeout, watching the first episode of a new scripted show, Aeth's mood hadn't really improved.

Lyta was back on her phone, watching short videos that were causing her to yell things or curse at them, and even worse, leave terrible comments.

Eventually, Aeth reached over and took her phone out of her hands.

"Give that back!" Lyta snarled.

"You're not paying attention. You wanted to watch this with me," Aeth said. "You're not watching."

"I'm paying attention!"

"Watch with me, or I'll give you the phone back and go home," Aeth said firmly.

Lyta crossed her arms and pouted. "Fine!"

By the time the episode was over (they had to restart it), without her phone to distract her, Lyta was back to herself.

"Sorry," she apologized when Aeth was starting to head home. "Sometimes it just feels good to be angry, even if it's not actually good for me."

Aeth just nodded. They didn't have anything really to say, so they just accepted the apology and went home to shower and try to find a moment of solace in the day that was too long and too annoying.

Their apartment was something of a refuge, finally a safe space away from all the nonsense and people that were making this day so much harder and stupider than it reasonably should have been. The shower washed away the remains of the day, the last of the nonsense went away down the drain with the dirt and the grime that came with it.

Aeth was feeling this day more than most other days. This whole week, month, year had been nothing short of a fiasco.

Really, they were just ready for it to be over.

Or for something to change.

There was a sigh that came from them while they were still in the shower. It was the kind of sigh that came from the base of their spine and in the depths of their guts that built until it touched every nerve and then the release was long, slow, and robbed them of every inch of breath in their lungs.

Aeth was ready for something different, for some catalyst to cause a change that pushed them into something hopefully better.

When they got out of the shower there was a message from Lyta.

They looked at the message, even if they didn't feel the energy to respond.

It was a link, and another apology.

"Sorry. You had a day and I didn't make it better. Wish I could make your days better instead of worse ;(" the text said.

The link sent Aeth to a site, since their phone did not have whatever app this was sent from it took them to the website mirror.

Eventually there was a video of an absolutely adorable void-cat trying to absorb an entire tuba which resulted in a series of very funny noises, both from the tuba, and the very distressed tubist. It was a very cute video and it did make Aeth smile.

The algorithm and whatever driving force behind the app automatically started playing "exclusive content only on the app" and considering that Lyta sent them a video of a void-cat there was no shortage of cute animal videos.

Aeth didn't respond for several minutes because they were sucked into the world of the app and the animal videos they kept showing them.

Eventually they did respond a short message.

"It's always better with you. but going from worse to bad ins't the best"

"but i appreciate you"

It was with only a small reluctance that Aeth downloaded the app Swwarm.

i have a kofi where you can read chapters early

#eldritch tech support #my fiction #we're powering through today #soon we'll be done with this story and i'll be rewriting the whole thing

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ednaodfsw2024 · 9 months ago

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Pressed on all Sides but not Crushed

Module 7: Plotting

Determination is the persistence to keep pursuing objectives in the face of difficulties. Although I was not promoted, I am grateful for my long tenure. But when I noticed that my younger coworkers were getting promoted to supervisor, senior supervisor, and coordinator, I lost my sense of direction. Despite attending college, I can still not advance in my career. I, therefore, keep going to school to learn more. I stay up late reading articles, going through courses, and completing schoolwork on the computer. I feel fulfilled when I learn, even if it takes time, money, and effort to achieve my goals.

I was at work when my spouse called at 11:30 am to ask for help taking his car out of the mechanic shop. It was Friday, and I was supposed to be off at 1:00 pm. It would take nearly thirty minutes to reach my spouse, who needed help. Before I left the workplace, I went to see Carlito (not his real name), my boss. Carlito has three years of experience with the organization. I told Carlito, " My husband needs help. I will be back" At that time, Carlito was talking to another co-employee. He said, "Alright." So, around 11:35 am, I drove to pick up my spouse so he could pick his car up from the repair shop. I returned to work at 1:00 pm. I went to my boss' office and told him I am back, and I am taking the day off. My supervisor remained silent and fixed his gaze on me. I thought about it. Was I interpreted correctly? Or do we speak a different language? Is there something I'm not getting through to him, or is he ignoring me? I clocked out and left for the day.

The following Monday afternoon, Carlito came to my office and said, "Jose (not his real name) wants to talk to you." I thought, "What is the main point of it all?" We strolled about a hundred feet to Jose's office. Carlito works under Jose as a senior supervisor. I heard they are the best of friends. When we reached the door, I said hello to Jose. Jose told me to close the door and sit down. I started to feel nervous. Jose asked me some questions last Friday during business hours because I had spent the entire afternoon being away. I replied that I was leaving in the afternoon after going to get my husband. I returned to end my shift. Jose said, "Ngaa!" with a shrug. Jose was skeptical about my disposition and harshly critical. I received criticism for neglecting to sign out and in. I apologize for not remembering to clock in and out. In the evening, I discussed the matter with my spouse. My husband commented, "Aren't they better occupied than concentrating on you?"

Tension intensified between Carlito, Jose, and me, and the misunderstanding surrounding the mandatory clocking in and out led to my humiliation. I remained quiet and observant the entire time. I was supposed to be off that afternoon but returned to the office to clock out. If you thought it was wrong, wait until you hear this! Things will only get worse.

Another week followed, and my supervisor, Carlito, called me again to go to Jose's office. Jose had a memo and handed it to me. The memo is about the 12:30 noon to 1:00 pm thirty-minute lunch break. The memo says I must start clocking in and out for my lunch break. I read the memo and signed it. I began to feel lonely. I worked at this job for nineteen years, where I spent most of my time. After nineteen years, my career seemed uninteresting, demeaning, and unsatisfactory. After nineteen years of service, I am starting over. Now that I have realized what happened, how do I confront my embarrassment and evaluate my work performance?

As the days went by, I approached my work cautiously each day. Knowing that it is against corporate policy, I did not complain or take retaliatory action. I wanted to accept defeat while feeling true humility instead of taking a tooth for a tooth or an eye for an eye. After a few months, Jose brought me a Christmas card containing one scratch lottery ticket. I saw him for the last time then. Without saying goodbye or giving notice, Jose left. There was no farewell party or notice when Jose left. Over the years, I have witnessed numerous management changes; one day, there was another.

Two years passed, and I have been punching in and out for a thirty-minute lunch break. Carlito, my supervisor, will be taking the vacated position of another employee who also left. Carlito told me that Tara will be my new supervisor. I will have a new female supervisor, a coworker, for nineteen years. In contrast to my calm and reserved demeanor, Tara is well-known for her assertiveness and loud yet charming personality. I told myself, "It's alright, and I'll work with her." We had known each other for a long time. I was even at her wedding. From what I have observed, Tara speaks bluntly.

One day, I had a volunteer task, so I requested time off ahead of time. I planned to volunteer in the morning and return around 2:00 pm. I went back to work at 1:54 pm, and the Kronos indicated that I was running late. I spoke with the support manager, who advised me to talk to Linda the following day. Linda has just been hired. The following day, I approached Linda, who was chatting with another girl in her office. I said softly. "Good morning, Linda. Can we talk regarding my time yesterday? According to the computer, I was quite late after I clocked in." Linda roared, "That's how the Kronos works." I said, "You should fix the issue. I was not given any consideration for my 30-minute lunch break. It does not used to be like that." My thick accent made my mild voice sound a little higher. I was upset when I returned to my office next door.

Anything that goes wrong within the office spreads quickly through the walls. Unexpectedly, Tara, my new female supervisor, approached my door and began talking loudly so that everybody, including Linda next door and others in the cubicle, would hear what she had to say. "Here is the thing: there are many issues. You must clock in and out if you leave this building. You don't need to clock out if you remain in the building." "Okay," was my reply. I feel embarrassed deep inside whenever someone brings up my lunch break. I have been holding this issue inside of me, and it has come out more than before, so I called her as she was about to turn. "Tara, the incident involving the clocking in and out occurred only once. I had to attend to an emergency two years ago. Why generalize and stereotype?" Tara walked away without a word. At this precise moment, I was relieved to be able to voice out my thoughts. There was a sudden relief. I was able to express my opinions gently.

Later that night, I wondered why Tara was acting so aggressively and with more volume than my previous male supervisor. Why should my other coworkers see me as a shame? She had no idea how much her confrontational attitude embarrassed and degraded me. The fact that I had to keep silent and composed the entire time before speaking out was damaging. It comes to light that my supervisor should hear both sides of the situation before addressing the individual. This time, a word of hope resonated, "I have been pressed on all sides but not crushed; perplexed but not in despair; persecuted but not abandoned; struck down but not destroyed." Sometimes, it is possible to recover creatively after a setback, but feeling humiliated is common. Work is not about feeling humiliated; it's about doing what needs to be done. The most valuable thing in the world is the human freedom of the mind. And for that, I would fight for the mind's unbridled freedom to follow any course. Human resources informed me that I didn't need to manually clock in and out because the computer had already automatically scheduled my thirty-minute lunch break. Moreover, if I had to take a leave of absence, I should take the whole day off.

Despite the humiliation, leading a peaceful life and remaining humble is essential. And I connect with this: in this challenging world, life becomes meaningful when one learns from mistakes and gets back up after falling. Acknowledge it and demonstrate your ability to move on and improve yourself. You pick yourself up, draw lessons from it, and move on. Maintain your progress toward becoming a better person. By doing so, I can hold my head high, knowing that I have passed the test of time. Despite my obstacles, I must keep working towards my goals. I will continue working on my education, hoping to switch to a new task or job.

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fuck-customers · 3 years ago

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Fuck my replacement manager. I know I've only been working here a few months, but I've gotten really good at the job and happen to be really helpful to other people on the clock. I'm super helpful and incredibly reliable. But this chick came and took over just for a week and fucked it all up for me. I have Borderline, and the way she talks to me makes me feel inadequate. She got on my case about how I was speaking to customers (literally not saying thank you after a customer says thank you), accusing me of arguing with a customer when I had said told them I was gonna repeat back their order again, micromanaging every little thing I do (like asking me to stock somewhere else while I'm bringing out stock for my station or checking my work to make sure I didn't put in a customer's order wrong) and it was got to a point where she triggered me so badly I had a mild panic attack on shift for the first time in over three months. I tried to talk to her to get a better understanding of what I was supposed to or how I was supposed to do it and even tried to explain my BPD and how it affects me and I just want to be the best possible person at this job.

But she stone walled me. Didn't even bother looking me in the eye, and kept fidgeting and looking rather uncomfortable (unlike like the chill lay back Personality she has with everyone else) kept saying "everyone has a story, business is business, I gotta make sure my show runs smoothly, and if you can't handle it-" All of my coworkers were telling me to ignore her, but the self hate train was already rolling. To add to the drama, my older brother had added me into a group chat with abusive dad's side of the family and tried to put him on blast, so I had stress triggers both inside and outside of work now. I had tried to tell this manager that I won't be able to come in for my shift the next day because I depleted my energy for the week, tried not to go off on an explanation tangent because I know she don't care. She then proceeds to tell me that my hours will be adjusted accordingly and tells me to punch out after my break. It seemed too easy and I swear there was something sinister at hand, but I didn't think much about it. I was just glad that I didn't have to see her anymore and that I could take a much needed mental break from trying too hard. Only when I woke up today, I went from 8 hours a day two days off a week... to 4 hours a week four days off.

I don't remember what I said exactly to this asshole during my panic attack other than "you frighten me, but I'm trying hard to understand exactly what you want from me and I'd like an explanation or a written guide that I could refer to so as not to upset you anymore." And I remember her exact words to that were "I just gotta make sure my store is running smoothly. Can't worry about what happens outside my store." But last I checked the problem isn't outside the building? Its with you nitpicking at my work until I actually started to make mistakes because of it??

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imagineabrighterworld · 4 years ago

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A/N: I fought tooth and nail for this prompt so I hope you like it anon 👀

—

Dabi had left the Nightscape for several reasons.

For better scenery, for less screaming, for.. for a third reason, and to escape his crazy as fuck ex girlfriend who never seemed to get the point that they were done. She was a phase, she wasn’t the endgame.

Did she get that as he tossed her ass out of his apartment? No, she just came back with a lighter to set his home ablaze. But the woman didn't realize he controlled flames as easily as he did breathing.

So he left. He packed a few things, clothes and whatever currency the humans were using nowadays and went up to the world beyond. His father was one of the lords of the Nightscape, but he didn't need to worry about slipping past him, Dabi was thought to be dead for ages.

More like “Touya” had been dead for ages, but that was a clusterfuck of different issues he didn't care to unfold.

Living above ground had added perks beyond escaping a crazy ex and not being surrounded by shades and wraiths on the daily. He could take on the form of a true human, not the horned and fanged form he usually wore. His tail was gone, and his scars and staples were replaced with tattoos and piercings, but he grew used to his new form very quickly.

In the human world, humans had long since developed quirks, so his flames were not an oddity. He was thankful for them when he was questioned about how he got his scars, scars that would occasionally show through his glamour. It was an easy answer, his body couldn't handle his “quirk”. People gave him sad eyes and let him go.

Easy.

What he did struggle with was the occasional demon hunter nearly tracking him down, but he always managed to turn their eye the other way. Was it testing the line choosing to live so close to a school that trained demon hunters? Yes, but he was always good at magic, a simple glamour always did the trick.

When he scored a job at a coffee shop, he was pleased to see it was a simple transaction kind of job. No one would be able to ask him why his eyes were constantly rivaling the blue of his flames or why a phantom tail would lash out and occasionally spill the row of cups behind him.

He pegged it as a ghost haunting the shop, and so it became a little inside joke within the workers ranks and some of the shop's patrons.

Opening on a rainy Wednesday, he looks around the room before lighting the candles at the tables with a flame on his pinkie finger. Setting up the tables and scooting in the chairs, he walks back to the counter and sets up the machines when the door rings, signalling someone had entered.

“Welcome.” He rolls out in a soft purr, a habit from years of toying with his playthings as an incubus. Eventually he would get rid of the habit. “What can I get for you today?” He turns around.

You were soaking wet with a satchel above your head, you were shivering and looking at the coffee machines as if they were god sent.

You looked adorable.

He leans on the counter with a growing smile. “Wet out there isn't it?”

Your gaze snaps to him. Your eyes were a soft mahogany color, reminding him of a tree. It wasn't the most romantic thing he could come up with, but trees were also very rare to find in the Nightscape, so he supposed it was based on your point of view. “C-Coffee. Please.”

“Sure thing babe, what kind?”

“A mocha cappuccino with three shots of espresso.”

He quirks a brow as he types in your order. “Three?”

“I usually get five but my doctor told me I need to cut down.”

“How about you aim for two?”

“I don't think I’d survive that loss sir.”

He chuckles. “Sir?” He asks as he tells you the price of your drink, accepting your soggy wad of cash and giving you your change once the transaction was complete. “Well madam, your drink will be out shortly, take some napkins to dry up, they’re by the sugar.”

He spots a small blush on your face as you go to the condiments counter. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He prepares your drink as he hears you pluck a plethora of napkins out of their container. Small curses are all he hears as you open your bag, he hears the clicking of latches and the zipping of zippers. You scuttle past the counter and stop in front of the register again.

“Do you have a bathroom? My bag is drenched..”

He brings you your drink and tilts his head as he debates your question. A bathroom wouldn't solve the water issue, you just thought it would.

Dabi places your drink on the counter and holds his hand out. “I can dry your bag.”

You smile, adjusting your glasses in the mean time. “You have a wind quirk?”

“I'm not a blowdryer.” He grins. “But I can still dry it for you.”

You debate his words, looking down at your soggy satchel that was only getting worse as time passed. You hand him the bag with an accepting sigh. “Please.”

He takes your bag and lights his hands on fire. You nearly scream before he speaks up. “I can control my fire, this one won’t burn anything, it's just warm.”

“Oh.” You shut your mouth with a sheepish bow of your head. “Sorry.”

“It's alright.” He turns the bag in his hold, looking at the patches and bad attempts at embroidery on its edges. It was cute. The sad little attempts seemed to get better as they reached the top, which led him to believe this was your first attempt at embroidery.

What would you do if he had burnt it to ash?

His flames were highly destructive, and sometimes even he couldn't handle them.

Maybe he was being risky to test his powers like this. It had been ages since he last used his flames for something more than lighting a silly candle or a cigarette.

“So..”

Oh right, you were still there.

He looks at you and rotates the bag in his hold. “Yes?”

“Is it always this empty?”

“Only when you're here.” He winks.

“Rude.”

“Rude, sir.”

You laugh, and from that point on he's hooked to the sound.

Dabi used to like his job, now it was turning into something akin to gratitude. It allowed him to see you on most days.

He had learned quite a few things about you ever since that rainy day.

You were a teacher in training, specifically the nearby high school. You were aiming for Shiketsu and had a foot in the door with the vice principal taking notice of you during their mock trials. He didn't peg you for a demon hunter, but everyone had a hidden side to them. Hah. You had two pet birds named Sweet Pea and Darlington, you had a snake named Petra and were looking into getting a newt.

You loved coffee but hated it black, it needed sugar or chocolate of some kind because you couldn't stand bitter food. You loved spicy food even if you couldn't tolerate it, and you adored sour candies.

While you looked book smart, you were also street smart, and he was beginning to believe you might be vying for a spot as a demon slayer teacher. He just didn't know what your quirk was yet.

“Hey Dabi.” You chime in unison with the doorbell as you walk inside, this time with an umbrella to keep yourself out of the rain.

He leans on the counter with a grin. “Hey babe. What is it today? The usual?”

“Just a shot of espresso this time.”

He narrows his eyes. “Are you sick?”

“Nope.” You fold your arms behind your back, rocking back and forth on your heels with a huge smile on your face. “I got news.”

“Do tell.” He says as he starts preparing your shot.

“I got the job!” You squeal in excitement, arms coming out of hiding so you can clasp them in front of you. “Starting in the spring I’m going to be the new first year homeroom teacher!”

He genuinely smiles. So you wanted to ruin your happiness with a shot of liquid bitter? He didn't understand you sometimes. “I thought your celebration drink would be a sakura latte, not a shot of espresso.”

You wave your hand dismissively, already removing your wallet from your pocket. “I'll come back for one.”

“Two visits in one day? Is that a gift for you or for me?” He chuckles and hands you your espresso, taking your yen and entering it into the register.

You adjust the glasses on your face. "I figured I would grace your presence because you've been so humble as to fuel my caffeine addiction."

"It's my duty to make sure you don't kill some other sorry bastard with a coffee maker."

Your eyes flash green for a split second, and in that moment he has to keep from reeling back. Did he really see that?

The cups behind him tumble to the ground.

His tail had appeared in his brief moment of shock.

You cock your head to the side. "What happened?"

He kneels and collects the cups. "The shop's ghost. Don't mind it."

"I thought I saw a-"

"How about I give you the latte now? On me." He interrupts you mid sentence, standing up with the cups in his arms.

The blush on your face was one of his favorite sights in the human world.

"You don't have to Dabi."

"It's just a drink." He waves you along to one of the booths. "Sit, it'll be ready soon."

You take your shot of espresso and go to the booth he had motioned you to.

The way you scrunched your nose in disgust as you drank your shot was also one of his new favorite sights.

Maybe it was just you.

After you had gotten your job at Shiketsu, you were around every morning to prepare for the day. Sometimes you would come by for lunch, unfortunately he clocked out on those days, but sometimes he would make sure he was in the area just to catch you off-guard. Those days he spent his lunch with you, and you got to tell him stories about your students.

It was one of your lunch breaks when hell came to toll.

His eyes were trained on you as you spoke, you were talking about a girl who wielded fire similar to him when the bell of the cafe rang.

The sound resonated through him, and in that moment he knew who was at the door.

What was at the door.

His glamour of his new human form nearly drops as he hears a woman's voice ask from the counter of the cafe.

“Is Dabi here?” She croons in a sickly sweet voice he hadn't heard in nearly a year. He doesn't hear his coworkers' response but he feels the air fill with the flowery scent of her. He grits his teeth to keep his fangs from showing through as he hears her heels click against the ground.

You had stopped your explanation and looked behind him, adjusting your glasses as you did so. “You're looking for Dabi?”

“I am, what a sweet peach you've got here Dabi~ I didn't know you still had it in you to snag such a cutie, your charms must still be working even in this sad form.” He feels her hand on his shoulder, her fingernails drumming along the stitching of his jacket. “Did you catch her, or did she come crawling to you?”

He knows he has to speak up, before she says another word, but his fangs were already piercing the inside of his lip as his glamour slipped.

He looks at you with the most apologetic gaze he can muster. Grabbing his coffee, he lifts it to his mouth to hide his fangs and he speaks. “Excuse me.” He stands up and slams the cup on the table, grabbing the wrist of the woman behind him and dragging her out of the shop and into the closest alleyway.

He slams her against the wall with her arm pinned above her head. His glamour drops completely, his scars and horns bared for the world to see as he growls with rage. “You!”

The succubus in front of him smiles coyly, dragging a finger across his scars and the staples holding his mouth together. “Aren't you happy to see me? To see one of your own again?”

“No. What do you want?”

She plays at pulling on one of the staples but is stopped as he pins her other hand up as well. The succubus sighs and turns her head, “I come see you and all I get is this. And seeing you with a little human.” She peers at him with violet eyes. “Don't tell me you've gone soft Dabi. She’s human, she’ll die just like a human too.”

He hadn't let that thought slip into his mind and wasn't planning on starting to. He tightens his grip on her wrists. “We broke up, I made that clear.” A feral grin forms on his face, pulling at the staples on his face. “I told you, if you try me again, I’ll kill you.”

“I heard you had a human now. We all heard.” She whispers, her eyes glowing in the dark of the alley. “They know Dabi.”

His grip falters.

Shit.

Shit. Shit Shit-

He lets go of her wrists and he paces in the alleyway, flames licking at his face as his emotions spiralled.

“They need your power, but you’re squandering it here with a girl who will die before you know it. While you're full of youth, she will be an old crone with nothing but a coffin awaiting her.” She didn't sound bothered at all as she rubs her wrists. “Honestly Dabi, you were the one that taught me never to fall for a human. They’re too brittle, their life essence too weak.”

He did teach her. He taught her to keep her heart shut and to leave it open only for him. He taught her a little too well, as she now believed she had rights to him.

But he never taught himself as well as he did her.

He fell for you bad, and you were mortal.

“Anyway, I was told one of two things. Either bring you back with me, or expose you so you have no other choice but to return.”

He looks back at her, his rage quelled only by the dread that was now spiralling in him. “You will do no such thing!” He roars, his flames igniting and setting him ablaze. “If you dare go near her-”

The succubus’s body transforms into mist starting from her feet then rising to her waist. She puts a finger to her lips. “I’ll be back in three days. If you don't do it, I will.”

She was gone. Leaving him alone in the alley with nothing but flames that wouldn't stop burning.

Dabi spent the next two days trying to find ways to tell you, but with each scenario came the same question.

What would you do if you knew he was a demon? You worked at a school that trained demon slayers- what other option for you would there be if not to turn him in? It was your duty to turn in any demon that showed up at your door, and here you were having coffee with him.

He couldn't do it.

On the third day, it was raining, just like the day he met you.

He hated the mist that had surrounded the shop, reminding him of the succubus and her promise.

Three days.

He had to tell you.

But why was it so damn hard to do? He used to be cold and calculated, having his fun toying with human emotions and killing without regret. He had no empathy, no sympathy for the lives he ruined.

But you were kind. So incredibly kind.

He rests his head on the counter as the door opens. He scents you in the air before you even step through, the smell of milk and honey wafting in the air as you approach the counter.

He had to tell you.

“Morning Dabi!” You cheer as you fold up your umbrella. “A mocha cappuccino with two shots of espresso please!”

He looks up and smiles crookedly. “Finally down to two?”

“I figured I would finally listen to you.”

“That's my girl.” He chuckles as he grabs a cup and prepares your drink. His hands were shaking, but he knew what he had to do.

When your drink was ready and paid for, Dabi keeps his hand on the cup as you take it from him, your hand overlapping his. You look at him with curious eyes behind your wide rimmed glasses. “Dabi? What’s wrong?”

“If I told you I was a bad man, what would you do?”

You narrow your eyes, but keep your hand over his. “Stealing a croissant from the place you work at isn't evil Dabi-”

“Not that.” He laughs but it's noticeably strained. “Not that.” He looks you in the eyes, greedily taking in the sight of you, for perhaps the last time. “What if I told you I was a bad man, who did horrible things. Whose caused terrible things.”

Your hand tightens around his, he feels the tremors in your body before you still.

“I would tell you I know better than to judge you for what you've done, and tell you that I judge you for who you are now. Does that forgive you of what you've done or what you've caused? No. But I judge what I see. And I see a good man.”

He lets out a shaky breath as his glamor drops, revealing his true form of scars and fangs and horns. His flames curl around him as he whispers. “What if I'm not a man?”

You jump back, hands flying to your glasses before they could tumble off of your face. You stare at him with your jaw hanging.

He looks at the coffee still in his grasp. At the scars covering his body.

He knew it.

He puts down the cup.

He knew it.

Clapping comes from the corner of the room where the succubus has taken form, her body still halfway between corporal and mist. She smiles, showing off her sharpened canines. “Bravo Dabi, I almost thought I’d have to do it myself.”

You shut your mouth and look at the succubus. “You're from before-”

“I am.” She purrs. “And I’m here to take Dabi home. Shigaraki will be happy to see his lieutenant again.”

Dabi burns away his apron, leaving him in his normal attire, the stitches of his black coat catching his eye. Memories of your embroidered bag slip through his mind, though are soon flushed out entirely when he hears the shattering of tables as a high pitched shriek comes from the mist succubus.

He phases through the counter in a wall of heatless flame as he sees you covering your ears.

The shriek had destroyed the tables and windows turning them into scrap, and had shattered your glasses. Blood was running down your ears from between your hands.

He stands between you and the succubus, his arms lit with powerful blue flames. “This wasn't part of the deal!”

“Not our deal. Shigaraki doesn't want you to have any temptations for returning to the human world. We need your girl gone for good.” She grins fiendishly. “She will never grow old, isn't that the best gift you could receive?”

“Dabi-” You call out from behind him.

“Stay back!” He yells at you. “Get out of here!” But he knew if you went into the rain outside, you would be done for. The succubus would be able to drown you where you stood.

Her body turns to pure water as she rushes at him. With her power boosted by the rain that washed in through the broken windows, all he could do was send wave after wave of fire to evaporate the water.

But what was evaporation if not mist?

He was fighting a losing battle as he backed up until he finally reached you. He covers you with his body as he puts up a wall of flame.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers to you as his flames are soon put out. “I’m sorry.”

You lift your hands to his face, eyes still closed, and pull him in, pressing your forehead against his.

“Don't be sorry for the things you can't control.” You whisper in return.

The succubus’s body turns corporal from the waist up. She coos. “How sweet, one last goodbye.”

You press a kiss to his lips.

“Don't open your eyes.” You murmur against his lips before letting go of his face and turning around to look at the succubus.

He closes his eyes, prepared to hear you scream in pain, prepared to hear your body drop to the ground.

But all he hears is the loud boom of thunder from outside and the crackle of rock breaking.

Rock?

He opens his eyes and sees you on your knees in front of a marble statue of the succubus.

His eyes widen as he sees you stand up. From the reflection of the marble, he can see your eyes flashing green.

“Did I ever tell you my mother was a demon?” You ask as you kneel and pick up your eyeglass frames from the floor. “She called herself Medusa. Silly, huh? My dad was human though, and well, as you know, they had me..” You turn around, your eyes now closed. “I guess you can say my quirk is having a very strange lineage.”

Dabi gets to his feet and runs at you, barreling into you with his arms swiftly wrapping around you.

You return the hug, your face nuzzled into his chest.

“So.. you're not mortal?” He says quietly, as if the good luck that had been shone upon the both of you would wither out.

“I'm not. It's my hundred and twenty-fourth this year.” You look up from his hold, he could see the faint glow of green from under your eyelashes. “Will you be there?”

He tightens his hold and presses his lips against yours.

“As if I'd ever leave.”

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha dabi #boku no hero academia dabi #bnha dabi x reader #mha dabi x reader #my hero academia dabi x reader #dabi x reader #touya x reader #- Luca #I snatched this prompt and I will fistfight Jesus all over again #- beta Andro #wHo aPParEntly cAnt ReAd

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merakiui · 4 years ago

Note

hey!! i was lucky enough to stumble across your blog, & i'm enjoying your writing!! could i request something for a first date w/ sian? maybe something more casual, like a cafe!

(I’m glad you like it! Hopefully this is what you had in mind with your request! I went for a “friends to lovers” vibe in a modern setting if that’s okay. Please enjoy and thank you for such a fun request!)

Courtesy Coffee (Sian)

You met under unpleasant circumstances. Sian was in a rush to get to his destination, and you were staring down at your phone with a cup of iced coffee in your other hand. Like that banal trope in shoujo manga, the two of you crashed into one another, and your drink spilled all over his outfit. As complete strangers, it was obvious that the one who was drenched would be incredibly frustrated. That was an exact observation, only Sian didn’t feel the need to use a filter that day.

“Are you kidding me? Watch where you’re going!” he had yelled, gripping his soaked shirt and glaring daggers at you. “How am I supposed to show up to work looking like this?!”

Anyone would feel frightened with his exasperated tone of voice and the intimidating aura that surrounded him, but you weren’t one to surrender immediately.

Straightening your shoulders, you met his heated stare. “I’m sorry. At least it wasn’t hot, right?” Hoping to dispel his anger, you smiled a little. “I can buy you a clean shirt if it’ll make you feel better.”

He puffed his cheeks out, suddenly bashful as he avoided your gaze. “It’s the least you could do! Seriously, this is the worst. I smell just like your stupid coffee.”

“Hey, don’t diss my iced coffee. It’s delicious and you know it.”

“If it’s so good, why is it all over me?” he snapped, crossing his arms. “This’ll stain, you know!”

“I offered to get you another shirt.”

“It’s not just on my shirt, you moron! I can’t face my colleagues like this. You have no idea what they’ll say.”

“Suck it up then!”

“No!”

You sighed heavily, gripping your empty coffee cup. “There’s no need to be difficult. Just let me get you a clean polo and slacks. Unless you’d rather parade around in wet, coffee-smelling attire. You’re making a scene with all of your yelling.”

“You were just yelling, too. Fine, whatever. I guess you can do that.”

Even as you spied his blush, you couldn’t ignore your thoughts. Is he seriously embarrassed by the fact that I’m getting him clothes? Anyone would do this to repay the damage.

“That’s all I needed to hear. Oh, and for the record you’re the one who should watch where you’re going.”

He didn’t take those words too well. Regardless, that was how you met the guy with a loud mouth and an even louder personality. You ran into him twice after that incident, and each time he seemed to stumble over himself. He tried to thank you for the clothes, but all he could manage was a huff and an angry comment about how the fabric was uncomfortable. Weeks later, that same boy just so happened to feel bad about starting a few shouting matches with you during those three times you interacted. He saw you in a café by chance and secretly covered your drink fee, making the barista promise not to reveal his identity. It was a sweet gesture, despite being anonymous and a bit of a shock on your end. You’d never experienced the magic that was receiving your drink for free, but it was great nonetheless.

You enter work that morning with a cheery disposition, passing by coworkers and even engaging in kind banter with those who aren’t the friendliest. You clock in and make your way towards the elevator while scrolling through an online article. Hearing a familiar ping, you glance up, urging whoever’s inside to hold the door. There are four other people crammed within the area, all of whom are silently waiting for the elevator to rise. You push the button for your floor and relax. Momentarily, you glance around the enclosed space to see if you can recognize anyone from your department. Your eyes sweep from one person to the next, and you spot polite Nine at the very back.

You’re compelled to greet him, but someone stands in your way. Someone who bears an uncanny resemblance to the guy who was showered in iced coffee two weeks ago. You gasp and turn away, hoping he won’t notice you.

No way! We work for the same company? What’re the odds? This must be a bad omen! I don’t want to start another fight with him, you think, having done your best to erase those memories.

The elevator pings, and you’re completely distracted. Though you don’t miss the hand that taps your shoulder. Your gaze follows his arm. It’s that guy again.

“Hey. This is your floor, isn’t it?”

The number doesn’t lie, but Sian’s memory might as he struggles to recall your familiar features. It clicks just as you bolt out of the elevator, the doors slipping shut and obscuring your backside for good. Sian blinks rapidly as his face heats up. That was...

Coffee idiot! he thinks. There’s no mistaking that stupid look on their face. He’s thrown into a bad mood at once, internally grumbling as he remembers that day. Even if he changed into new clothes, he still smelled of coffee. It was embarrassing, and his bothersome colleagues wouldn’t leave him alone. And now we work in the same building. Maybe I should just quit so I don’t have to face them.

"Can you believe it, Youssef?” you ask your deskmate, having ranted to him while typing up the progress of this week’s publication. At least that’s a monetary positive for the company. You can’t say the same for your mentality, though. “I do something nice in return and he yells at me. And then we meet again—twice—and he’s still rude.”

Youssef tilts his head, a childish gesture for someone his age. “Are you sure you’re not incorrectly reading his actions?”

“I’m positive. When have I ever been wrong?” You frown as your fingers slow their pace on the keyboard. “I just found out today that we work in the same building. This is totally unfair. Why do I have to bear the burden of knowing this information?”

“I’m sure he means well. What does he look like? I might know him.” You describe him to your helpful colleague, who nods and taps his chin in thought. His expression lights up with recognition. “If I remember correctly, his name is Sian, and he’s in the marketing department. We’ve only talked briefly, but I can assure you he’s quite diligent with his work.”

“Well, everyone’s got their own personality outside of their jobs.”

“I suppose, but it’s not polite to label someone based off of such little knowledge,” he advises lightly, turning his attention back to his computer screen. “Rather than using all of your energy painting a bad image of him, you should spend that time getting to know him. It’ll fix any negative impressions you may have.”

“Something tells me he wouldn’t like that...”

Since then, you haven’t run into Sian once. At first you made it your mission to keep an eye out for him, but now that you’ve been busy with this new project you can’t be bothered to let his image clutter your mind. So you brush him aside like a cobweb, certain you won’t bump into him again. Your floors are far enough apart, so it’s unlikely that that’ll happen. But you’re not always the luckiest, and fate tends to tease those who aren’t on good terms with one another.

You’re close to running late on a rainy day, having missed the train, so now you’re doing everything you can to catch a taxi. Cars speed by on the road, and you fail to flag down a vehicle. Dejected and soaked to the bone, you drag your feet along the slick sidewalk, wishing for your next paycheck so that you can put it towards a used car. Speaking of cars, one slides past you as it makes an effort to park along the walkway. In doing so, the tires kick up a huge puddle, effectively soaking your lower half. As if the day couldn’t have gotten any worse. The car almost moves out of the spot before it halts, and the window steadily rolls down to reveal the face of your greatest enemy.

Well, he’s not technically your greatest enemy, but it really feels like it in that moment.

“Do you need a ride?” As if correcting himself, he quickly adds, “I’m not doing this because it’s you! I’m just sympathizing.”

Does it matter? you wonder, bitter and cold and wet. Karma is so brutal.

“You’re Sian, right?” You approach his car, peering in at the flustered man. “From marketing.”

“Y-Yeah. So what?”

“I’m in publishing.” Awkwardly, you look up at the cloudy sky. “It’s really coming down. The forecast didn’t call for this much rain.”

“Are you getting in or not?”

“But you’re a stranger,” you jest, fixing him with a pout. “I don’t want scary Sian to kidnap me.”

He glowers at your joke. “I’m leaving now. I don’t have time for this.”

You hold back a chuckle, tearing open the door before he can drive off. “Wait! Sorry, I’ll get in. I can’t stand another minute in this rain.”

The window slides up, and he sets the car in motion after you’ve buckled up, easing back into the flow of traffic smoothly. Now that you’re sitting there with the AC blowing cool air at your face, you shudder. Oh, how wonderful it must feel to be in clothes that are warm and untouched by the rain. In his peripheral, Sian catches your shivering form, and he switches the AC from cold air to hot. You might not dry as quick as one would hope, but at least it’s something.

The silence is utterly tense. You almost expect him to bicker with you like he did in the past. Instead, he’s focused on the winding road ahead. Though you don’t miss the pink hue that tints his cheeks and gradually rises to his ears.

��So,” you say, if only to get a conversation going. “How’s work?”

“Fine, I guess. How did you know who I was?”

“My friend Youssef.”

“Oh.”

“You probably don’t know me. I’m (Name).”

“I already know.”

“Really? Stalker.”

“I’m not a stalker!” he exclaims, glaring hard at the windshield. “You’re kind of hard to miss.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re always so loud at our company parties. How can anyone ignore that?” Sian then proceeds to bless your ears with a story from this year’s holiday party. A few departments got together and went out for drinks and karaoke. Naturally, you had a drinking contest with your colleagues, which led to a tipsy night of bad singing and stumbling from one bar to the next. You were surprised Sian remembered that, mainly because you couldn’t recall seeing him there. And it’s been months since that rowdy night. “Do you see my point?”

“Don’t remind me. That hangover hurt my soul.”

He quirks a smile at that. “It’s not flattering when you sing high notes in the wrong key.”

“Like you could do any better.”

“I can because I was sober.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, gazing out at the scenery that passes by in a blur of dull colors. Without meaning to, you eye Sian’s reflection in the window, taking note of his side profile. He’s actually quite handsome when he’s calm and not acting so stubborn. “I guess we’re even now.”

“Even?”

“I spilled coffee on you, and you splashed me when your tires hit that puddle.”

“Am I supposed to buy you clothes now?”

“If you’re offering...”

“I wasn’t offering!”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a spare uniform in my locker.”

I wasn’t worried to begin with, you coffee idiot, Sian thinks, gripping the steering wheel. He keeps track of your occasional trembling, and he can’t help but feel troubled. You’ll catch a cold if you don’t dry off soon. Suddenly, he regrets pulling up beside you and accidentally sending water flying in your direction. This time it was definitely his fault, wasn’t it? Sian wants to make it up to you, but it’s impossible. He’ll die of embarrassment before he succeeds in performing a good deed in front of you.

Truthfully, he’s always noticed you. The very first instance was last year at the company’s drinking party. You were glued to Youssef’s side, engaging in idle chatter with him and another guy he wasn’t too familiar with. At the time, Sian thought your behavior was obnoxious. No one wants their younger coworker clinging to them. It just made you look like an attention-seeking puppy. Although you were definitely upbeat at that party. He had watched you chug an entire pint of beer like it was nothing and then join in on a pointless game of Ten Fingers with enough energy to put a child to shame.

He thought you were annoying at first, and yet there was something captivating about your personality. He’d never had the guts to approach you outright, so when he ran into you that day all of his frustrations just spilled over. He was angry at himself for not having the courage to talk to you at every company party, and now that he had a chance he couldn’t think of what to say. He hadn’t mentally prepared anything! So he said the first thing that came to his mind, which passed through his unfiltered lips in a very abrupt manner.

But you didn’t show any fear. You hardly flinched. Instead you met his words with a few of your own, and that’s what ruffled Sian’s feathers. You were so good at communication, and he was very much unskilled, usually relying on phrases he prepared in his head. It’s not like he couldn’t talk. He could when he was interested in a certain subject or whenever he was reading from a page, but in front of someone he admired... Sian knew he’d make a fool of himself.

Now that you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, he has every opportunity to say what he wants. Yet the words scramble in his brain, and he can’t calm his racing heart. Before he can think of anything witty, the building comes into view, and the parking garage has never seemed so dismal. Sian’s kicking himself as he parks, disappointed with how he handled that situation.

“Thanks for this. I’ll go on ahead.” You unbuckle, holding your briefcase and squeezing water from your blazer. “I’m sorry if I got your seat wet.”

“It’s...fine.”

You’re going to walk away and then he’ll become the coffee idiot. He opens his mouth to say something that’ll stop you, but you turn around at the right moment.

“Let’s get coffee sometime in the future. You deserve it after all the trouble I gave you,” you propose, smiling earnestly. And I feel guilty for my initial judgement. Youssef was right.

Sian’s eyes widen, and he struggles to remain stoic. “Oh, uh...”

“That’s okay with you, right?”

“I guess. Whatever works for you.” He shrugs.

“Great!” You retrieve a pen from your case and close the distance between the two of you. Humming, you snatch his hand, spreading his fingers so that his palm is wide open. And then you scribble something on it, grinning in satisfaction. Sian stares at you the entire time, his face blank and head filled with static. “Text me the days you’re available. See you later!” You tuck the pen away, hastily dashing in the direction of the elevator.

Sian stands there for a moment, slack-jawed. He forces himself to look down at his hand. Your number is written on his skin in smudged ink. His face erupts in a flurry of red. That coffee idiot...

------

“It’s not a date,” Sian mutters as he walks to the café. “It’s not. Stop thinking that way.”

But maybe it is a date, the voice in the back of his mind whispers, goading him into believing so. He dressed as casually as possible, but he still hopes it’ll impress you. There are plenty of fears that flood his head, and he almost turns around as soon as he gets to the entrance. But he’s come this far, and he’d regret it forever if he left now. This might be his only chance; he can’t afford to pass it up. So he pushes open the door in search of you. It doesn’t take long to locate your form amongst the few who are inside. Sian’s pulse rushes into overdrive, and he clenches his jaw.

It’s not a date. Act natural.

You look up from your phone just as he slides into the seat across from you. A warm smile blossoms across your face, and you tuck your mobile away. “Sian, you made it! I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

“It’d be rude if I didn’t show up after you made all those plans.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Well, thank you. Now I won’t have to feel bad about Monday morning.”

You had felt bad? Sian’s cheeks must be burning intensely bright now, but there’s nothing he can do. “It’s your fault for being an idiot.”

You chuckle. “That makes two of us. One idiot ignored the forecast, and the other wasn’t watching where he was going.”

“Whatever. Just so we’re clear, I’m not as stupid as you.” He crosses his arms and huffs. “And you don’t have any taste. I mean, iced coffee? Really?”

“It’s good!” you insist. “You’re missing out. Everyone knows iced coffee is better than hot coffee.”

“Is it now? I don’t agree with that statistic.”

“You’re allowed to have your own opinion, Mr. Sian,” you tease. “Give me your drink order. I’ll go get it.”

“What? No way. I’ll pay.”

“As if! I’m treating you.”

“You already bought me clothes.”

“And now I’m going to buy you coffee. It’s to say thanks for picking me up during that storm.”

“I would’ve left you on that sidewalk if I knew you were going to make it a hassle now!”

“Just accept my kindness!”

Sian shuts his mouth, giving into your demand. He grumbles his order, and you’re very happy as you make your way towards the register to get the two of you drinks and pastries. He watches as you pay, releasing a soft sigh. It’s hard to say no to someone you’ve admired for so long. Sian’s not sure when he started to like you, but he’s certain these recent interactions have only added fuel to the burning fire residing in his heart. It’s embarrassing to think he’s even on a romantic outing with you, but it’s not like the two of you are close friends. So then what does that make this?

When you return to the window table, setting down the drinks and a plate with two strawberry bread puddings, he’s shaken from his daydreams. This is actually happening. It’s not just another fantasy he’s imagined while witnessing you drink your sanity away at parties.

“I’m not sure if you like strawberries, but I—“

“I guess it’s okay,” he interrupts, trying to hide the fact that he actually likes it very much.

“Good!” You ease into your chair. “You’re not as bad as I thought you were.”

He raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip from his latte. “Huh.”

“You seemed really upset when I spilled my coffee on you. But anyone would be, so it’s completely understandable. I thought you hated me because of that. When we saw each other again, you were pretty sensitive.”

“I’m not sensitive!” he snaps, proving your point. “That was a white shirt you ruined.”

“Will you feel better if you dump coffee on me?”

“What? Why would I do that? I’m not going to do something as petty as that!”

“Aw, so you do care.”

“I don’t. Get lost.”

You break out into a laughing fit, genuinely amused at his coldness. Even if he doesn’t want to show it, he’s quite nice, and you’re relieved that he didn’t turn out to be a bully seeking revenge. Then again, it’s been weeks since that incident.

“It’s not funny!”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re just so expressive. It’s hard not to laugh.”

A furious red darkens his face, and he decides to fumble with his fork in order to give his hands something to do. The bread pudding is surprisingly delicious. He fumes in his embarrassment while he eats.

Eventually, the two of you converse about work and that project your department took on. Sian listens to your rambling as you go on and on about how irksome it is when last-minute changes are made to a finalized draft. He enjoys every story you tell him, and by the time the plate is empty he feels as if he’s grown closer with you. Could this be the beginning of a friendship? He’s hit with a sudden wave of inspiration for lyrics that will never be sung. At least they can fester on a page in his notebook, where he’ll return on countless occasions to proofread and debate over the meaning of each line. Oh, how he’d love to share his music with you. It’ll take a while before he does something as bold as that, though.

“I just got an idea! There’s this awesome bar thirty minutes from work. I usually go with my friends because they’ve got a bunch of games you can play. Board games, card games—you name it. We should go one of these days.”

“R-Really?”

“Yeah! You seem like a fun guy to hang out with. Card games might sound boring, but they’re actually really fun when you’re playing for money. And when you’ve got a few drinks in your system.”

Sian struggles to hide the giddy smile that threatens to split his lips. “No... It sounds perfect. I’m actually really good at Slapjack, so be prepared to lose miserably!”

“Is that a challenge? What should we wager?”

"How about a meal? Loser has to pay for the winner’s lunch.”

“All right. It’s a deal. I’ll keep you updated on my schedule so that we can choose a weekend to meet up.”

“Sure!” Sian’s face won’t stop heating up and he can’t slow his erratic heartbeat. “I mean, I’ll only do it so I can get a free lunch. It’s not like I’m agreeing for your sake.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever floats your boat.”

His chest feels airy and light, almost as if he’s in a dream. Your words weigh on his conflicted heart. How can anyone make plans so easily? If the roles were reversed, he’d be an absolute mess. It’d be so embarrassing; Sian would probably want to curl up and disappear if he ever tried to ask you out on his own volition. You probably don’t even feel the same way. After all, this is merely two coworkers having a normal conversation. But he can’t get stuck in the friend zone. That’d be the worst outcome to all of this. So in the meantime he’ll do his best to act cordial. He can hide his shy demeanor and fluffy feelings behind a blunt attitude.

“All of this planning makes it seem like we’re a couple,” you muse with flirtatious intent. Leaning back in your chair, you gauge Sian’s reaction. Just as you figured, he’s turning crimson. It’s honestly endearing to see him get so flustered. “What do you think, Sian?”

“I... I don’t know. Don’t say stupid things! It’s really annoying.”

No matter how sharp his words are, you know he doesn’t mean it. After all, his expression clearly refutes those claims.

“Sian and (Name), sitting in a tree—“

“Shut up!”

If this isn’t a date, then what’s with all the flirting?

Sian’s going to have to take a cold shower when he gets home to lower his body temperature. And to scrub away the embarrassment that’s washed over him like rain.

It’s not a date. It’s just coffee with an acquaintance. Yeah. Just courtesy coffee.

He couldn’t be any further from the truth.

#after l!fe #afterl!fe #afterl!fe sian #afterl!fe x reader #afterl!fe the sacred kaleidoscope #afterl!fe sian x reader #sian x reader #oneshot

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harleenfleck · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t forget me (Part. 3)

Arthur Fleck/Joker x Reader fic

Summary: After what happened in his apartment, and even though Arthur asked you not to, you watched that night the Murray Franklin’s Show, after that night, you didn't see Arthur again in a long time, and all that time you felt melancholy and lonely, until one day, a little surprise comes to you.

Warnings: Angst, comfort, sad thoughts and fluff

Words: 5.3k

Part one here <3, Part two here <3

A/N: Hello guys, first of all I KNOW, I know that I said that part 3 was going to be the last part of this story and that it was actually going to have NSFW content, BUT my two brain cells said “Do it more parts, MORE PAAAAARTS” and my heart said “Listen that two little bastards” and well, I’ll write a 4th part f this fic cause my heart and my two brain cells said it :$ Well, this story gonna have 4 parts, and the 4 part gonna have finally NSFW omg i’m so excited about that AHHH. Well, to finish this A/N I’m sorry if I make some grammatical, spelling or writing mistakes, English is not my native language. Enjoy this third part! :3 I hope you like it!

...

“Please, don’t forget me”

“Never, my love”

The last words you’d shared with him. You remembered how fast you run in the worn wooden stairs. How you got out of that old building. So many things happened, a walk with your enemy, you witnessed of a murder, you see your best friend convert into a monster, and almost the same time, your lover.

He asked you for one thing, and you decided not do it. Remember when you came to your apartment, recharged your back against the wood, dropped to the ground and started crying in absolute silence. You passed your hand over your face, just to remember his touch. The images passed in your eyes so quickly, images of him, his face, his mouth, his green eyes. You passed almost three hours crying, so many emotions in your body, you feared your body couldn’t hold all feelings.

You remembered when after that hours you tried to calm yourself, you were on it when the phone suddenly rang. You got up off the ground and ran to this one, waiting for your Arthur to be on the other side of the line. But for your disappointment, was Gary. He, ignorant of absolutely everything that happened, asked for Arthur, for Randall and his condolences had been sent to Arthur. What could you tell Gary? That Arthur had lost his mind? that Randall was dead? You decided to protect Arthur, protect him even if his act was horrible. You said to Gary some lies, like Randall never went to the subway station, you go alone and you and Arthur talked about a lot of things. Gary said something like "I told you Y/N" and kept talking. When the talk was over, you hung up nervously.

Looked the at clock, 15 minutes before the Murray Show. Nervous and eager to watch the show, you tentatively approached your couch and turned on the TV, turned on the channel and waited anxiously. Before Murray's show there were some news, you saw about some clown protests, you couldn't believe that all this had been caused by Arthur. The news was over, Ellis Drane and his orchestra drums were played, the show started. You watched the show without interest in Murray and the others guest, you just waited until Arthur's turn came. And when he appears, you felted so happy for him, despites he appears with a new name: Joker. When you saw him, you felt so much joy, coming out of those curtains dancing, spinning, greeted the presenters, but you not really like the joke that Arthur kissed Dr. Sally. You really jealous of an old lady? Maybe.

The show went smoothly, you waited why Arthur didn't want you to watch the show. Nothing bad seemed to happen, more than Murray's mocked of Arthur with the others guests. Was it serious? Did they make fun of Arthur even on that show? You could feel the anger in your stomach. But surrender, you heard Arthur's black humor joke, which worried you, why Arthur would make jokes like that? He was scolded by Dr. Sally and Murray but he don't care about they words, and then, what you didn't expect happened: Arthur confessed his crime.

It was a huge moment of tension, from how all the joy of the show changed abruptly to a more serious and darker tone. Why would Arthur do that? Why would he confess he killed that three rich of the subway to everyone? You couldn't believe it. And that wasn't the worst. Arthur said things that had sense to you because he told you every horrible thing he lived before. Maybe no one would understand because Arthur said they were all awful, only you could understand it.

The tension between Arthur and Murray was rising, you feared that Arthur would lose control again, you tried to call the show while still watching TV, but (obviously) your call was not answered. You went back to the couch, without expecting it to happen, which could happen, and then...

Arthur pulled out that cursed gun and pointed Murray's head.

"ARTHUR NO!"

Shot.

The symphony of terror was heard, screaming from people, a one of the guests hugging a hysterical Dr. Sally, Murray's bloodied body, and Arthur dancing, then he come to the camera and saying the words:

“Goodnight, and always remember, that’s li-“

You closed your eyes, you started crying one more time. You knew Arthur had asked you, and you should have listened to him. Your heart broke again, your body trembled once more. Arthur had hurt you again.

“Y/N? Y/N? Earth to Y/N, are you in?”

You blinked; you were watching the TV of your new job. It was the news, announcing the anniversary of that terrible event.

“Yeah, sorry, I distracted a little”

“Y/N, you’re been rare those weeks, are you okay?”

“Yes, sorry Celeste, I’m gonna… Clean that”

A year passed from that event, in that year, things had changed too much. You lost your job at Ha-ha's, result that was the place where the terrible criminal Joker had come from, all the clowns in there lost their job. Hoyt was turned a rage, he was understandable, he had lost his business. Some clowns got a job at other agencies, others simply stopped being a clown and preferred to dedicate themselves to something else. You and Gary were from that second group of people. Gary decided to go back to his native Vermont, however, being a good friend to you, he managed to get you a job with some old friends. Now you worked in a small but charming cake shop.

"Celeste, Y/N, hello ladies. I'm back with the sugar and butter” Peter, another coworker from the shop, entered to the place "Well Peter! You'd better help me! Orders are delayed!" Celeste was a very kind woman, but she quickly lost the patience, Peter, who was a little older than you, just laughed and carried things. "What's the matter Y/N? Are you sad again?"

“No, I’m just… Just watching the news again”

“The news again? Y/N, watch a lot of news not good for your mental health, why don’t put the music channel or something kindlier?”

“… I can’t do that” Slowly, you turned your head to the TV again. The news said a lot of terrible crimes after that event. Most of these crimes were attributed to a single criminal: The Joker. After Murray was killed, Joker was arrested, but in the course of jail the patrol was intercepted by more clowns and Joker was free. And so, he began a terrible reign of crimes all over Gotham for a long time.

"Now, this dangerous man still free of the justice, it’s considerate a lunatic criminal, many criminalities that our poor city has suffered have been under his hand. The police can't find where this guy is hiding, who is now known as "The Clown Prince of Crime" and t-"

The Tv turned black “Peter!” You yelled.

“Sorry little princess, but this is for you, I don’t want you get sick for this. I know you get nervous of that clown, honestly, I get nervous too, but you have to continue your life, that clown not gonna go for you specifically, just the people with bad luck drop to his Clown Clan. Don’t worry Y/N, you’ll be okay”

“Peter! The sugar and butter!” Celeste screamed from the kitchen.

“Sorry Celeste! I’m coming!” Peter run to the kitchen and you still cleaned the counter. Maybe Peter was right, you shouldn’t get worry for Joker, but you don’t really get worried, you got sad, sad for Joker, because you know under the makeup and the costume, Arthur are there. You were hoping Arthur would be there. A year passed and maybe Arthur was right, maybe you’d never see him again, like he said to you.

You knew he was doing bad things, all the damage they caused him was returning ferociously, he was no longer a weak person that people could mock, he was someone that people should be afraid of, and poor of the one who scoffed him, because that someone would give it to you would end up their corpse in a Gotham blackwater canal. Just imagining Arthur dressed as a clown, like that last time you saw him, killing someone mercilessly and cruelly.

And for some reason, it didn't cause you conflict, you didn't fall into the reality of the danger he had become, you knew it wasn't your Arthur anymore, but you still loved him. Despite that horrible things he does it, you still in love with him. Of course, in that year, some boys and man tried something with you, including Peter, who wasn't giving up yet, but none of those boys were Arthur. None of them were him. And despite all the time, you still felted the butterflies in your stomach when you thought in him, you cheeks get blushed when you remembered you two almost made the love in that old bed, your lip trembled when the memory of your first kiss with him touched your soul again. Memories stalked you as if they were a ghost in your room in the dark, but a ghost you weren't afraid about.

You put your head in the counter and got a big breath, what you can do in that moment about Arthur? What can you do with your feelings? What can you do with that love that wasn’t for anyone, that love was just for him? “I’m really fucked up” you whispered to yourself.

The days after you did your work routine. You'd come to the cakeshop, make coffee for your companions and to sell too, help Celeste decorate some cakes, while Peter made other cakes and desserts. When the cakes to sell were ready, you put them in some refrigerators and you were going to serve the customers at the counter. One particular day, you were alone at the counter while Celeste was screaming at Peter for not making gingerbread man biscuits, the winter times were coming. You wanted to turn on the TV, but you knew you'd only put the news to see if there was anything new with Joker. You had to control yourself, while secretly eating a slice of cake that Peter had given you along with a rose. He was someone very meticulous, willing to win your heart, even you had kindly mentioned to him on previous occasions that you weren't interested in being someone's girlfriend. Well, only one person, but it was definitely out of your reach.

The bell above the front door rang. You saved the cake quickly, you didn't want Celeste to yell at you, even though she never done it before. But wasn't a customer, was a delivery man. “It’s the lady Y/N working here?”

“Yes, I am”

“Well, this is for you” You poked your head out of the corner just to find with a huge bouquet of …

“Lilies? That’s are a Lilies?! I love the lilies!” You went straight to the delivery man and took the bouquet with your hands. You are blushed again. At this point, Celeste realized what was going on and ran away, excited that you had received flowers. Peter only watched the scene from afar. You thanked the delivery man and he just left.

“Oh! Y/N! Look at you! What a beautiful bouquet! And your smile! Wait, I have here my camera! Wait Y/N!” Celeste runs for her camera. You still watching your flowers, your eyes were full of charm. Celeste returned and took you a lot of pictures, asking you to pose near the cakes and desserts.

“Take it! All for you Y/N! Oh my god, I hope that boy who sent you these flowers has won your heart” Celeste gave you all the polaroid, a burning smell made her remember that she had left a couple of cupcakes in the cooker and ran into the kitchen. You and Peter were alone.

"Well, this is a beautiful detail, lilies have always been my favorites"

"So, my little princess, that mean I have a rival and he’d basically beaten me this time?"

“Rival? Wait, wasn’t you?”

“No. I’m a man of roses, I never thought in lilies. Well, I hope that riv-“ Celeste claim help of Peter, he had no choice but to follow his boss's orders. When Peter left the place you wondered to yourself, Peter wasn't the one who sent you those flowers? Even if it had some logic, since you never told him that lilies were your favorite flowers. You tried to remember the boys and men who tried to conquer you, and none of them you had mentioned that lilies were your favorite flowers. Then you remembered the only man you told that little piece of you.

That’s Impossible. You thought, because that’s true, that's impossible. He’s now a criminal, a bad man, even some press said he was a terrorist. And all that they said about him was on your knowledge, because you witnessed one of his first crimes. Of course, he wouldn't have time to do something like that, you even thought maybe he'd consider that cheesy. Actually, you thought he had already forgotten you.

You looked at your flowers, you went for a little vase that only accumulated dust, washed it and put water in it, so your flowers could hold out a little longer before taking to home. You looked in for a note that indicated who would have been the secret admirer, but there were no clues. Knowing you wouldn't have your answer, you back to work.

That night, you left a little late for work, said goodbye to Celeste and Peter, and walked to your house, the job was closer to your house, you didn't have to run like on previous occasions when you worked at Ha-ha's. However, you turned a corner where street lighting failed, looking very scary. You walked a little further, looking everywhere, making sure no one came near you. You hated having to go down that street. Fortunately, nothing bad happened that time.

You arrived safely home, you put your beautiful lilies in a vase. You had that silly smile on your face. No Y/N, it can't be him. You thought for yourself. He's now busy in... Another kind of thing. I don't think he remember you. Those words, no matter than they sounded, were full of reason. But you gave yourself the little luxury of thinking in him, imagining that he actually sent you those flowers and that he would soon come back to you. Just imagine, but no more illusions.

The next day, you did the same thing every day, but there was a special glow this time in you. Celeste, your boss, noticed. "My God Y/N, you look so radiant and so happy, I'd love to meet your lovely prince to congratulate him," she said excitedly as she put some chocolate cookies and gingerbread man cookies in a basket, you just laughed. When Celeste came back to the kitchen, Peter came up to you.

"I'd also like to meet that charming prince who has you delighted. Looks like he wants to make your days sweeter."

Laughing, you went to the cookie basket and took one of the gingerbread man cookies in your hands, smiling foolishly.

“Well, I don’t think he’s a prince charming, Actually, I don’t like the concept of prince charming”

“No? And what you like?”

You watched TV at the time, one more news of Joker, just in that moment, a picture of him came out on screen, with that wicked but charming smile.

“Another kind of prince" You bit the cookie along with a smile.

…

You didn't even know if it was him, but as the days went on, the delivery man with more lilies returned to you, Celeste became exaggeratedly happy and Peter gradually realized that he was not going to achieve his goal of you falling in love with him. Of course, he wouldn't, he even stopped calling you “Little princess" like he once in a while, and being honestly, you hated how he dubbed you that way. Things were going well in your life, for the first time in a long time, but soon, everything would take an unexpected turn for you.

One night, coming home with another bouquet of lilies in your hands, you'd come out of the elevator to head to your apartment, only to find another surprise at your doorstep: Another bouquet of flowers, but they were not lilies or roses, it was a Bouquet of artificial flowers that came out of a magic wand. And you knew that magic wand perfectly. You took it with your free hand, in this bouquet if there was a note, and there was only one letter: J. Your senses trembled with that note. Immediately you entered the apartment, however, there was nobody.

You were impressed, would it be him? Would he come back for you? You didn't know, and it would be best if he got out of hiding once and for all. You were getting too excited about his return. Or maybe he wanted to let you know he was okay. But your heart inflated like a balloon again, and you were floating in love. You did your nighttime bedtime routine before you went to sleep, but instead of wearing your usual pajamas, you wore a short nightgown in a silk robe, something inside you said you had to wear it. You sat in your bed, waiting for that "something" that had to happen, but while you waited, you fell asleep soundly.

Knock knock

“Huh?” You heard someone knocking, quickly you get out of the bed, stumbling, because the knocked of the door sounds more and more louder. “Coming!” You yelled and before to open the door you looked at the clock, who would be knocking on your door at 1 A.M.? Without looking through the peephole, you opened the door, and you could swear that your heart stopped for a few seconds.

“Hello Y/N”

“…A-Arthur?”

He was there, in your door, with his green hair, that elegant clown suit, that clown makeup, breathing deeply, and with his pretty smile. Arthur was there, converted in Joker.

“It’s been a very long time, don’t you think?”

You didn't know what to answer, because again you speechless. You just opened the door more, implying he could get into your apartment, and so he did. You closed the door slowly, not knowing what to do say. Arthur was back in your life, your suspicions (or rather desires) would come true, and you didn't know how to react. You must have been angry about leaving you and becoming a dangerous criminal? Or smile at him, thank him for coming back and giving him a warm welcome?

“Oh, I see you received all my little gifts, your house looks so adorable with that lilies, you like it Y/N?” Arthur said when he was seeing all the bouquets you received in every little place of your apartment. He noticed you don’t say nothing and he worried, no longer smiling. Without words to said, you looked at his face, you felted like in one of that dreams you had when you miss him.

“W-what are you doing here?” You asked something frightened, fearing that all of that was really a dream. But it wasn't, Arthur was just next to you, or how he called himself now, Joker. He was a little skeptical of your question, doubting if he should answer it or not, because he did not know how to explain his sudden appearance.

“Oh… Well… It’s… It’s complicated to explain” He giggled nervously, and you don’t understand why “I… Just want to see you, but also, I got in a trouble too…”

“Wait, what?” shaking your head, you suddenly get confused “What you want to say, you’re in danger?”

“No exactly that, if were like danger, I would have looked for another hiding place. I just… Running of the police…”

“Oh…” You felt a little confused. Your mind thought of something that immediately hurt your feelings, He only come back to you just to hide? For a moment you believed he was actually there for you. You were always trying to see the good side of things, but this time it was impossible. Your sad face was evident instantly, but you separate yourself from him and turned your back on him before he could notice your disenchantment “I-I think you can stay here, while the cops, well, you know, stop looking you or something” You hated yourself because in this time you couldn’t hiding your emotions, your broke voice ratted you and he perceived it.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Arthur asked when he walked to you, put himself in front you, so, he could see how you tried to hiding your face to him. “Y/N? What happens baby?”

“Everything… Everything happened Arthur… It’s just… Strange to me this”

“Strange? Why you say that?”

“Because… I don’t know… I-I just to think you won’t back again after you converted in Joker… I mean, I always heard about you in the news for all crimes you committed, and I really thought you don’t remember me, but you’re… you’re here again and… Oh, what the hell I’m talking? I’m sorry, this is stupid” You felt silly, more when the tears started to fall on your cheeks. You tried to step aside, but Arthur stopped you

“Hey Y/N, come here” He immediately hug you, and you couldn’t hold it, you broke in tears in his chest while he caressed your head and neck. You could feel his body against yours, you could feel his arms start to surround you, you could even hear his heart beating. It was real, so real. Definitely that wasn’t a dream. “I know, I know I was so away from you, I know I did some bad things, a lot of horrible things. I didn't want you to be related to me, both police and some enemies I've got” While the tears run out of your eyes, you still hugged him tighter.

He whispered in your ear “You want to hear a secret?" You nodded and Arthur took your cheeks "There was no day I didn't stop thinking about you. I missed you Y/N; you can’t imagine how much I missed you. I just wanted to protect you, that’s all, protect you..." Suddenly his voice weakened in the last word and his eyes stopped staring at you. Now it was your turn to worry about him.

“Arthur?”

“I said I wanted to protect you, but… Always want to protect you I hurt you, in some way I did it… Fuck…” You felted his body shaking while he put his face in your shoulder “I’m so sorry Y/N…”

“Arthur… You… Don’t be sorry, please… It’s okay, I swear it’s okay” You can’t stop to hug the each one, slowly, you smelled the scent of his hair, was the same scent you knew perfectly “You know what? I missed you too, God, you don’t have idea…”

“Long year, right?” You two shared a laugh. You took his hands and looked him in the eye, acting like a girl really in love with her boyfriend, because that's what you were, a girl in love with her boy. You led him to the couch and both sat down, you two had so many things to say to each other.

“What did you do this time for the cops to be looking for you?"

“Eh, nothing special, I just wanted to do something little, nothing that could hurt anyone”

“But what you did it?”

“I wanted to rob a jewelry store” Blinked, you laugh a little. He seconded the laugh.

“Why you want to steal a jewelry store?”

“Well, the other day I looked a pretty necklace, I swear it, that necklace was white with a little gem that looked like a drop, I observed it and I think of you. I said “This is for Y/N”, obviously I want more for you, but this one was special, this necklace was for you. I wanted to took it for our reunion. I was planned all, but the cops ruined all my plans”

"What were your plans Arthur?" You asked full of curiosity, you wanted to know how was the mysterious plan of Arthur to come back to you.

"Oh... Well, I wanted to do something that surprised you. It wasn't easy to find you after Ha-ha's closed, I looked for you in everywhere place of all Gotham, and after a lot I found you. I wanted to go into that cake shop where you work, ask you maybe a couple of desserts to taste them later, give you that beautiful necklace that I'm sure will look beautiful on your neck and take you with me"

“W-What?”

“You heard it. I want you; I want you with me, I only thought in you this year. I decided you'd come with me, but I didn't want to put you at risk, that’s why I take my time, but everything isn't ready yet, I still can't take you with me. I have to fix a couple more things to make you completely safe."

Arthur said it with great emotion, because it was what he had waited for so long, he wanted to take you to his place, protect you in his own way from Gotham's adversity, he knew better than anyone how cruel and terrible crime could become in the city and did not want you to be part of those figures that the press used to

“Oh…” However, despite how excited Arthur looked, how enthusiastic he was to tell you all his plans, for some reason you saw the pessimistic side of things. It was something you've been used to since Arthur let the darkest part of his being come out. With much fear and tears threatening to come out of your eyes again, you asked him a question “Are you saying you would let me again?”

Confused, Arthur looked at you and realized what you meant “No, no, definitely no Y/N” He hugged you again, putted his hands in your back and caressed “I promise you I’ll back, I swear”

“I don’t want you to leave again, please don’t leave me” The drops stained the red fabric of his blazer "You have no idea how many times I've dreamed of you, believing you were by my side when you really you are not there. Please, stay here, stay here" You had to repeat that twice because it was what your soul asked, to stay with you again “I don't fucking care if you're someone dangerous now, if you're someone everyone should be afraid of, just stay here please… Stay here."

Hearing you cry and begging broke Arthur's heart, he felt guilty of leaving you alone for so long. You were the only person who could calm that dark part of himself, you were the only one who could serene Joker.

"Listen…" He stopped hugging you to take your cheeks, he made you see his face "Of course I won't leave you alone Y/N, you're the best girl I've ever met, you're the only person who really loved me, if I got a choice to spend my whole life by your side, I would do it without thinking about it. You're my one and only one, I don’t wanna miss you again…"

“Arthur…” His name trembled on your lips. That name haunted you for a long time.

"I love you so much Y/N, and I want to protect you, let me take care of some matters, some things that... What do I have to do, work to do, then I'll come for you and we'll be together, okay?"

“… Okay”

Caressed your face with his hand, Arthur calms you with his touch.

"I'll be with you tonight. And before you know it, we'll be back together, what do you say?"

"I could wait for you for a year, I can wait for you for my whole life"

At that moment, you noticed that Arthur took off his blazer along with his yellow vest. You were frozen for a moment, until he spoke.

"You must be tired, I interrupted your dream, come here" Arthur wrapped you back in his arms, as he recharged his back on the back of the sofa. You lay on his chest, feeling his warm, and hearing his heart beats. "Let's sleep together tonight"

"Yes, you have to stay tonight, I don't want the police to catch you and this time ruin our real plans".

He laughed at your comment, but despite the enormous confidence he had gained at that time, you could feel beneath you his anxiety in his leg, which he kept moving. For a moment, you thought you two were going to return what you had left pending in his old apartment, but Arthur was just hugging you, stroking your hair and your face. Maybe he wasn't ready to take that step with you yet, maybe he thought doing it with him at a time like that would be a bit rushed. Maybe he wanted to keep that special moment between you two when you were finally together safely. And you realized he hadn't even kissed you on your lips, but you knew deep in your heart that he still loved you.

Your eyelids become heavy, and you fell into a deep sleep. Arthur was just looking at you as you rested in his arms. He really loved you, he wanted you to be just his and for him. And he hated having to keep waiting. But he knew everything in the end would be worth it…

He just saw all the lilies he gave you in those last few weeks, and the scent of those flowers made him sleep early

…

You woke up, you still felt his arms in your body, feeling protected. But his arms were no longer there, nor was his body under yours either. You woke up completely to realize you were alone in your apartment's living room. You blinked many times and looked everywhere. Was that a dream too?

If it was, I'm really fucked

You got up off the couch, started looking all over your apartment, realizing you were completely alone. You let yourself down, that dream had felt so real, and you be concerned too, your imagination was long lived lately. You had to take a shower before you went to work at the bakery. At the end of it all, it had been a great dream.

But when you were preparing the bathtub, you decided to look in the mirror, and you found out there was red and white paint on your forehead and cheek, plus there was another little stain on the knuckles of your hand. You came out of the bathroom and you didn't realize there was a small note on the small table in the living room. You took it between your fingers, excited and read it.

"Sorry I left without saying goodbye, though now that I think about it, there shouldn't be a goodbye, because there won't be any more goodbyes, right, Y/N? I'll be back soon for you, it's a promise. I won't forget you.

J”

And then, that silly smile in your face appears. You kissed that note. Definitely was a promise.

Continue.

#joker 2019 #joker fandom #arthur #fleck #joker #joker film #joker movie #arthur fleck x reader #joker x reader #joker x y/n #joker x you #fanfic #arthur fleck x female reader #HarleenFleckWrites

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bobasheebaby · 5 years ago

Text

Kuebiko- Monsters chapter 2

Pairing: Liam x Olivia; Emma (MC) x OC

Word count: 1,895 Warnings: abuse, Evil Liam, Evil Olivia, Dark fic, manipulation Summary: Liam and Olivia meet Emma. A/N: More evil Liam. This one is severely twisted. This is a collaboration with @sirbeepsalot, so hang onto your seats.

Series warnings: Evil Liam, Evil Olivia, child abuse, character death, abuse, knife violence, blood, unhealthy sexual situations, NSFW content to come. By asking to be tagged you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age.

Let one of us know if you want on or off the taglist.

Disclaimer: We only own our OC’s, the rest we are just borrowing from PB.

Kuebiko: A feeling of physical and mental exhaustion that happens after acts of violence takes place.

“I thought we talked about this Emma! You can’t go around flirting with every fucking guy you meet or they’ll get the idea that they can fuck you.” His fingernails dug crescents into her freckled skin. “But they can’t, can they?!”

Emma glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one from work was witnessing her talk with her boyfriend. “Please, Trey, we can’t talk here. I’ll lose my job if my boss finds us again.” She tried to pull her arm from his vice-like grip but instead cried out in pain as his nails dug deeper into her skin.

“I can do whatever I want whenever I want,” Trey growled as he yanked her arm. Her small body flew into his chest; to anyone watching, they appeared to be holding each other in a loving embrace. “You are mine and only mine.”

Emma let out a pained whimper. "Only yours, Trey, I belong to only you." Her breath caught as she noticed a flicker of light flash behind him. She exhaled when she realized that it was the redhead she had been servicing for the last two hours smoking a cigarette and not a coworker. Their eyes met briefly before Trey jostled her to get her attention. She lifted her head to meet his gaze.

“Now go back to that table and tell them that you are taken, understood?” He shoved her backward and released her, her petite body stumbling as she tried to steady herself.

“Yes,” Emma nodded, her eyes trained to the ground. She knew better than to try to make eye contact when he was this upset.

“Good. Don't you ever behave that way again.”

Olivia nodded towards Emma as she slid back into the booth after finishing her cigarette. "She has a Constantine," she murmured as she picked up her gin and soda. Liam nodded, his face even. If he had his way, all abusers would feel a blade twist in their chest.

"How are we doing over here?" Emma asked as her hands nervously tucked a strand of her short strawberry blond hair behind her ear. Liam noticed her voice was friendly but she averted her gaze when speaking with them.

"Everything okay?" He asked before taking a sip of his scotch, "You seem different since we last saw you."

Emma's green eyes darted to Olivia. Her heart started pounding in her chest as Olivia lifted her brow, her eyes confirming that she knew all about her confrontation with Trey. "Oh, everything's fine,” she quickly responded as she prayed they’d drop it. “Now, can I interest you in our dessert menu? Our pastry chef makes a chocolate lava cake to die for."

"There are very few things in life worth dying for," Olivia cooly stated before watching Emma's face whiten.

Liam shot Olivia a quick glance. "Do you have vanilla ice cream?" He smiled at Emma before taking Olivia's hand, his fingernails digging into the flesh of her palm.

"Vanilla bean and Madagascar vanilla. Made in house. Can I interest you in a scoop?"

"One of each. Everyone thinks of vanilla as plain, but I find it quite exquisite. I like to think I appreciate the small things that others overlook. Isn't that right, Olivia?"

Olivia took a slow sip of her drink as she formulated her thoughts. She held her glass up to shield the grimace spreading along her lips. "Emma, tell me, does your Trey often visit you at work and accuse you of trying to fuck your patrons?"

Her throat grew tight. Please don’t make this a big deal. If Trey finds out it will only make things worse. "I should go get your dessert—"

"Emma," Olivia's voice was tender with a commanding bite.

Emma paused and turned back to the table and pasted a smile on her face. "I'm sorry, did you want to order dessert too?"

"Oh, God no," she laughed. "I just want to know if you're happy."

Emma subconsciously shook her head and left to fetch Liam's ice cream. People like me don’t get happy.

"Olivia..."

"What Liam?” She spat. “I’m sorry, I saw her with her partner—she’s in a shit situation. It’s worth a shot. After all, didn't we come to the states to find someone? She seems like the type who is easily manipulated."

"I know," he murmured as he gently massaged the abused flesh of her palm. “I'm just sour that things didn't work out with Juliet. She was such a tender thing."

"I never expected things to work out on the first try."

Their words were cut short when Emma returned with Liam's ice cream. Two different vanillas garnished with a tiny strawberry.

Emma’s eyes flickered from her last table to the clock on the wall. Leave, please leave. She needed to finish cleaning before she closed up and, at this rate, she would be stuck well past when Trey wanted her home.

Come on, come on. You’re making this worse.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she envisioned Trey waiting for her drunk in the dark. He was always drunk when she got home late. He would accuse her of cheating, again; since he had already warned her that night the beating she faced would be even worse. She would be thankful if she blacked out after the first few blows. If you actually cared about yourself you’d leave.

The couple had been nice enough and made her laugh--that had been her mistake. Now, they were going to be the reason for his violence tonight without realizing it. I have to get them out of here, she thought as she threw the damp rag onto the bar top and smoothed her shaking hands over her apron. She hated tossing patrons who stayed past closing because she hated confrontation and making others angry, but she knew she would contend with far worse at home. She smiled as she approached their table, trying her best to make it believable when inside she was thinking about how each additional minute she was late would increase Trey’s anger even more.

“I’m sorry,” Emma said, trying to keep her voice even, “We’re closing up for the night.” She glanced at the clock as Liam slowly took his credit card from his wallet.

“I’m sorry we kept you late. We were having a wonderful evening and lost track of the time.”

Emma took the card, nodding quickly as she spun on her heel to process his payment.

Olivia’s gaze shot to Liam, her brow raised in silent question. It was clear she was terrified, others might miss the subtle changes, but they could read them. They used to live that fear.

Liam nodded imperceptibly. Olivia was right—they couldn’t let her return to that scumbag. Even if she wasn’t the one they were looking for they couldn’t allow her boyfriend to continue to abuse her.

Emma returned shortly and handed Liam his card and receipt to sign. He smiled as he took it, giving Olivia a nod as he started filling out the receipt.

“Emma,” Olivia said, her voice far softer and kinder than it had been all evening. She reached out her hand, gently touching Emma’s. “We can help you.”

Emma pulled back her hand at her touch. It was warm and inviting but she couldn’t think about that; she needed them to leave. “You can help by leaving.” Her voice shook. “I’m sure you understand that it is late and my boyfriend worries when I’m late.”

Olivia stood in front of the restaurant with a cigarette while Liam watched the back. They needed to get her alone in order to talk to her. They knew what she would face when she got home and they needed to prevent it from happening. She noticed the lights inside flick off as Emma walked to the front door. She sent a quick text to Liam and watched as she locked the door before approaching her.

“Emma,” Olivia said as she slowly approached. “I know you might be wondering why we are persistent to talk with you. We want to help you. I used to be in your situation, having someone who thought they owned me, who felt they could do whatever they wanted to me whenever they pleased.” She tapped another cigarette from her pack. “Cigarette?” She kept her tone even and devoid of emotion. Inside, she tensed and felt rage at what she used to endure, what others still did.

“I don’t smoke. But really, I know you think you understand, but it’s different. He—”

“What, Emma? He loves you? He cares for you? That’s not love.” Olivia took a long drag before slowly blowing it out. “Love isn’t fear. Love isn’t living until the day he delivers the deadly blow.”

Emma stood quiet. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, alerting her to someone behind her. She turned her head quickly and relaxed once she saw it was not Trey. She blew out a breath of relief. Had it been him she may not have survived; being seen with the objects of his anger again, after closing, would have made him angrier than ever.

“You thought I was him?” Liam said softly as he stepped next to Olivia.

Emma blinked back tears as she nodded. For the last hour, all she wanted was to get home. Now, she felt like her time had expired. She knew she was fucked.

“We’ve helped people before—ourselves, others in your situation—removed certain stressors from their lives.”

“I don’t have anyone else,” she whispered, “Trey is the only one I have.”

“And you won’t have him for long because he will kill you. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday.”

“We have done this before. We’re good. Let’s pay Trey a visit and then we’ll help you get back on your feet. We are actually visiting from our home in Europe,” Liam said. “If you couldn't guess from our accent we are Cordonian.”

“You could come back with us. We have a private jet and no one would know. You just--poof--vanish.”

“How is that possible? How can you do … things … and get away with it?” Emma's mind swirled at the possibilities being offered.

Liam and Olivia exchanged smiles. “Should we show her Liam?”

“I think we should.”

Emma’s brow furrowed as she watched Olivia open her bag and pull out two passports. Two diplomatic passports. “We are both rather important people in Cordonia. We are also very skilled at what we do.”

Emma’s heart pounded in her chest at the possibility of being free. On one hand, she went home and took what was coming, continued going down the path that would someday end in her death. On the other, she took action, took their offer, and reclaimed her life.

Tic toc

Time moved slowly as she examined her options from every angle. She wanted to be certain before she made a choice. Either way, there would be no going back, no do-over. She would have to accept the fate she chose.

“Okay,” she slowly nodded. She couldn’t live in fear anymore. She needed to be in control of her destiny no matter what tomorrow would bring.

Olivia softly hooked her arm with Emma’s. “Let’s make a plan.”

Feedback fuels us, please like, comment or reblog to let us know how much you like it. We can handle the screams, so scream away.

Masterlist can be found in my bio.

Taglist will be reblogged.

#liam x olivia #mc x oc #evil liam #evil olivia #king liam #olivia nevrakis #trr au #dark trr au #dark fic #the royal romance #the royal romance au #choices the royal romance #monsters #tw abuse

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prettypetitepika · 5 years ago

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@taylorswift appreciation post:

About a year ago, I was at the 2019 Billboard Music Awards in Las Vegas. I was there on coincidence with what was my job for a mobile gaming convention. I was done with my meetings and was walking past the venue location. My two absolute favorite artists are Taylor and Brendon Urie from P!ATD. So naturally I decided to purchase a ticket to see the first live performance of ME! I got to the show and it was one of my favorite moments ever. To see Taylor and Brendon open was magical and definitely was something to see coming into the Lover era. After halfway through the show, my boss demanded I show face at an after party. Networking was a big part of my job role. To give more context... I had started my job in February 2019 and at that time, I had noticed very misogynistic behavior, comments and remarks from my direct boss. Things like "we hired you to pimp you out." In my boss' mind, he hired me for being a woman. To "attract stupid men in the gaming world" to make them spend money. From the very first month I started to hear these remarks, I began looking for a new job. Sadly, gaming is a hard industry to job hop in, especially when you're desperate for a new company to just treat you like a human being. Fast forward back to the night of the Billboard awards and now to the after party. I walked to the after party only to find my boss schmoozing to some people from a partner company. One of them was a man... very tall and large in stature doing "as many tequila shots as he can to max out the company bar tab." I like a few drinks but while on the clock, I'm mindful of my alcohol. With this said, the after the party was done, my boss volun-told me to help him, that man and a woman clean up the party. After we did, we were going to "walk from the MGM to the Wynn for a Diplo concert". Literally one end of the Vegas strip to another. That was the idea, the execution on the other hand was something else...

After the party, all four of us started to walk outside. This man started to cling to myself and the woman from earlier, who turned out to be his boss. He was stringing along like an incredibly heavy sack of potatoes. He was sloppy drunk. Tripping over us and holding onto our shoulders and waists. After seeing the struggle, my now inebriated boss hailed a cab. The woman went to the front seat. Meanwhile, my not so tall boss went all the way to the left of the back and that man went to the middle seat. This giant person went to the middle and it made no sense to me. I literally out loud said "Why is the biggest person sitting in the middle?!" No one acknowledged my comment. So I reluctantly sat next to the man.

**Note: the next part of this may be triggering for some. This happened to me personally and I know how it can effect some people, even just reading it. With that said, the cab took off, the man put his arm around the back of my seat, and around my shoulder. The drive was only supposed to last maybe 7 minutes... to me, it was an eternity. The man started to bring his hand down and gr*pe my right breast. I almost couldn't believe it. I thought I was in a nightmare and I couldn't wake up. This man kept going as I pushed his hand away. I kept clutching my purse to my chest as he tried to reach his hand up my blouse. My elbow digging into my lap, trying to create a barrier between him and I. I wanted to scream but nothing came out. We finally pulled up to the hotel, I ran out of the cab. Waited for my boss to come out and walked in. As we walked, the man was now 20 feet behind us. He knew what he had done. The same man who was so clingy and touchy before was now making distance because he KNEW. I looked at my boss and lowly said "He gr*ped me in the taxi." He looked up at me and said "Well that's not good." And kept walking... I thought he was too drunk to realize what I had said so I sent it on WhatsApp, knowing it couldn't be deleted. He read the text and did nothing. I looked at the woman with us and demanded she come to the bathroom with me. I ran in and like word vomit, yelled what the man had done. The first thing out of her mouth was "I knew he'd do something like this."

She knew. And I was infuriated. How could amyone let such an awful excuse of a person come to a convention, network and drink?! When we came out of the bathroom, I saw the man and ran. Sobbing, I ran to the next restroom. The woman and my boss said they'd escort me back to my hotel. I ran to my room feeling so dirty. Shower after shower and I couldn't stop crying. I thought why didn't I say something to the cab driver, why? But I was just trying to keep my shitty job at that point. I was trying not to cause a scene that would affect my company...

The morning after, I tried to get home but literally EVERY single flight was booked until 2am. My boss reluctantly gave me the "day off". But I was stuck in Vegas. Feeling empty, violated, ruined. I knew with the incident fresh in my mind, I called a lawyer from back home in Texas. I explained the incident and how horrible my boss was. From there, we filed with the EEOC and started a discrimination case. For my company and my boss dehumanizing me, treating less than my worth and attempting to use me as a woman. Following immediately after the incident and the lawsuit beginning, I became a phantom. A ghost. I was invisible. No longer did anyone talk to me, look at me, invite me to lunch. I was moved to an office by myself. I'd email my boss for help on clients to never receive a response. I was just there. Physically. Mentally, I was miserable. I had developed anxiety and couldn't eat... this went on for months.

In March 2020, COVID19 hit and we were ordered to work from home. This was music to my ears. I was still a ghost... but at least my dog made for a better coworker.

Today, Friday, May 15th, 2020, my boss sent a Zoom meeting invite for me to discuss a client. It was out of the ordinary but I was hopeful. That hope didn't last long. As I logged in, I saw the 2 HR representatives of the company. I knew my fate after seeing their names on my computer screen. They said due to COVID, they were reorganizing the company. Meanwhile, they said i was terminated due to "performance". Immediately after I filed my lawsuit, they bombarded me with emails asking if I could do my job because of my "disability". They were talking about the new found anxiety that I developed thanks to them. The thing was, I was never trained, coached, developed. Nothing for my job role. They expected me as a "woman" to bring on male clients. They really did try to pimp me out. When that didn't work... Well, as you could guess, at 11am this morning, I was fired. Terminated. I was sent a termination contract that in short, they'd "generously give me a severance pay of $2k." But also in that letter? A surprise clause of if I signed and was paid, even if I still took them to court with my lawsuit, no matter the verdict, they'd owe me nothing. Right now? My lawyer is helping me figure that out but you can bet I won't sign that document for $2k.

Why am I typing this all now? It's more cathartic at this point but more importantly... that night that was so awful for me. After enduring being treated like this for so long... I'm done with that chapter. After that night, ANYTIME I'd listen to ME, I'd either cry or remember that terrible night. I was so angry from what had happened. I was devastated that Taylor and Brendon were the highlight of my night and to now later remember that horrible event. This morning after me getting fired? I hung up and cried.

Afterward, I turned on Taylor's album Lover, and laughed as I Forgot You Existed started playing. Eventually, YouTube had made it's way to ME!... and today was the first time I listened and sang along... happily. No tears, no flash backs to something horrendous. Just joy. Because for now? I'm free. Free of that company, free of my assh*le of a boss, free of people putting the blame on me. The lawsuit is still on going but I remember Taylor going through hers not too long ago. After all of that, if she can do it, so can I.

Pray I'll win my lawsuit. I've won half the battle so far with my new found freedom.

I've had ME! on repeat all day. No longer is that song a tragic memory but now a freedom anthem. 💖

#taylor swift #swifties #me!#lover #lover album #tswift #taylor #taylor nation #city of lover #i stand with taylor #lovers

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caranfindel · 6 years ago

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Recap/review 14.06: “Optimism”

THEN: Starts out pretty ominous, with clock-ticky music, Jack's grace getting sucked out, "this is the end of everything," and Jack considering himself useless. We're reminded that New Charlie exists (aw, Dean looked so pretty in AU Land) and Jack has "the mind of a hunter." Michael hurting people and Dean feels guilty (aw, Sam's Beard of Despair, how I miss you). Sounds like we're in for a real downer of an episode, friends.

NOW: Nebraska. Happy music. A cheerful librarian opens up shop, and she's cute as can be but I wore that blouse in the 80s and it needs to stay there (JUST SAY NO TO THE RUFFLED YOKE, LADIES). Her name is Harper, and she has a kind-of-date with a guy named Winston tonight, though she is clearly Not Into You, Winston. An (apparent) coworker named Miles hears her "scream" and comes to her aid, brandishing a stapler, and is reminded that he needs to mind his own business. Winston leaves, clearly walking on air, and then STAYIN' ALIVE STARTS PLAYING and we focus on Winston's feet just like the iconic opening scene of Saturday Night Fever (if you're too young to remember, watch this, IT'S IMPORTANT CULTURAL KNOWLEDGE and there WILL BE A QUIZ LATER) and y'all don't even know how much I love this song. YOU DON'T KNOW. I can't help it. My mom was a huge Bee Gees fan, partially because she was very into Barry Gibb.

Coincidence?

What can I say? I am my mother's child.

Now, where were we?

(Pretty much where we always are, so could you please just move this along?)

Sorry for the digression. Anyway. Now I suspect this isn't going to be a downer episode after all. (Turns out it was directed by Richard Speight, which would have been a clue if I'd known that earlier, bless him.) While I've been digressing, Winston has happily bopped down the street, only to have a hand cover his mouth and drag him off-screen. There's a record scratch and a squirt of dark goo and a scream, so I guess it did turn out to be a downer for Winston, but not for me.

Title card!

{Sidebar: I didn't realize Saturday Night Fever was directed by John Badham, who went on to direct several episodes of Supernatural.}

Jack's drinking coffee in the bunker. He takes a sip and then pours a huge amount of sugar into it, which immediately makes me think of this scene from The Fly when Jeff Goldblum, who does not yet realize that he is turning into a fly, does the same thing.

(Spoiler alert: Ahem.)

Dean walks in and asks what he's doing, and Jack explains that everything tastes different without his powers, and he can't get the coffee to taste the way he likes it. That's because coffee is nasty, Jack. (And also, thanks to the Continuity Fairy for remembering that food tasted different to Cas when he didn't have grace.) Dean asks if Jack has seen Sam, because that's what Dean does; he probably walked in the door and felt a disturbance in the Force and realized he didn't know where Sam was. From Jack, we learn that (1) Dean went on an overnight run to Mobby's love shack cabin and (b) Sam went on a hunt with Charlie without telling Dean. Is Dean okay with this? Are we gonna okay with this? Couldn't he have at least sent a text message? He's supposed to be setting an example!

"Explain to me again how you just let Sam LEAVE."

I guess Sam had to go himself, rather than send someone else, because this is one of those times when there's no random hunters in the bunker. (And where's Rowena? Did Charlie abandon her in the Southwest? Did they have a fight?) Jack imagines Sam and Charlie are doing something "really exciting."

Cut to Sam and Charlie sitting quietly in a truck outside Memphis, bored out of their minds. Hee! It's the kind of crappy old truck I always want Sam to drive, so I love it. They're staring at a bus stop with an ad for Pete the Pestinator, who seems to be an insect exterminator. (Spoiler alert: ahem again.) Sam confirms that "this is where all those people went missing," although if he's been sitting in that truck long enough to be bored, he really should have nailed that down by now. Charlie says "yep." More silent sitting.

Back to the bunker. Dean seems surprised that Sam left Jack there alone (where's Cas?) and Jack says "Sam wanted someone around when you came back. He's worried about you."

"Yeah, that sounds like him," Dean grumbles, and hello, kettle, the pot just called, and said you're black. Jack offers some encouragement, telling him no one blames him for Michael, and Dean says "Cool. Well, I blame me, so." His self-flagellation is interrupted by Jack's Cough of Great Concern. "Maybe I'm allergic to sitting around doing nothing," Jack snarks.

Dean sits down for a heart-to-heart, and Jack says he's been hunting with Cas and wants to do more. Dean says "No offense, Cas is an insurance policy on those hunts." Jack looks hurt. I don't understand this at all. Why wouldn't Jack already know that Cas is there to protect him? And why would this hurt his feelings? I'm so confused. But I immediately forget it, because Dean says "Sam's just trying to keep you safe, okay? He's a smart guy." AND THEN WE CUT TO THIS.

Bless you, Richard Speight, writer Steve Yockey, bless you both.

I literally did burst out laughing at Sam and his fidget spinner. Charlie is not amused, and Sam puts his toy away with some embarrassment.

Bunker. Jack's found a report on our dead friend Winston, who seemed to have human bitemarks taken out of his corpse. And others have gone missing in the area. We skip part of a conversation, but whatever it was, Dean says Sam won't like it. "Sam's not here," says Jack. Oh, no you don't, Jack. Don't you go ignoring the Chief's directives just because he's not here. Dean says he'll go check it out alone, but Jack suddenly remembers Sam's Law and reminds Dean about the Buddy System.

We can be hunting buddies!

Okay, uh, (a), don't call it that, and (b), YOU'RE gonna back ME up?

Oh, Dean. You didn't do the (1) and (b) thing that I love so much. Jack gets to be the one to bare a little bit of his soul now, telling Dean that he also feels guilty about Michael, because he could have killed him but he was "distracted and stupid." He doesn't want to sit around feeling guilty all day, he wants to hunt.

Looks like that was the right button to push, because we cut to Sam on the phone, clearly not a fan of the plan and telling Dean to be careful. I assume his reluctance is because he doesn't trust Jack to watch Dean's back. But Sam, if you can trust Maggie to hunt alone, you can trust Dean with a novice backup. (I know, I know, Dean is more important than Maggie.)

Sam asks again if Charlie is sure this is the right place, and she says it's where four people disappeared. And while she was scouting around, she found a mason jar full of goo. Is this the same goo we saw when Winston was killed? (Spoiler alert: no.) And now she's trying to figure out what they're hunting, so she's reading. I'd have done my reading before the stakeout, but that's just me. (I'd also have done some reading instead of sitting there glaring at Sam while he enjoyed his fidget spinner, but that's also just me.)

(I also might have thought of more interesting things to do while I was stuck in a car with Sam, but they would have interfered with the stakeout. And they aren't anything Charlie would have been interested in anyway.)

Cut to Dick's Red Rooster Diner (ha ha, I see you, Speight). According to Winston's obituary, he had breakfast here every morning. Jack agrees with me that it's an odd thing to put in an obituary, but Dean says that when someone dies young, you don't know what to put in those things. (Oh, think of 20-something Dean's obituary.) He introduces them to the waitress as Agents Berry and Charles, and the only thing I can think of is Chuck Berry, so if someone has a better idea, let me know. He asks for details about Winston, and the only detail she can provide is that he's dead. Jack dutifully writes that detail in his little notebook. (BLESS.)

This waitress is wonderfully snippy, knows her rights, and isn't the least bit interested in talking to these FBI agents, but when Dean hands her some cash she changes her mind. She says they should should be more interested in Harper, who Winston just started "courting," and Jack is confused.

What's courting?

It's what you do before you start dating.

Ah, and that's the thing you do before the sex.

Sometimes you just have the sex.

Okay, Dean's wrong, courting is what you do instead of dating, but this is still a wonderful exchange. And the next part is wonderful too, cutting between the waitress and some customers explaining that Harper was popular in high school, but her boyfriend ran off, and now all these men connected to her have died, and she's really into romance books, and ending on I've heard too much Dean and I'm confused Jack.

Love this.

Back at the stakeout, Sam's biting his nails, which I also love for some reason, and of course the only time we've ever seen him bite his nails was when he was worried about Dean. New Charlie picks right up on it. She tells him Dean will be fine, and comments that he's got other friends, right? Which I don't understand, because it doesn't matter what other friends he has, he's not hunting with them. He's hunting with Jack. "He used to have a pretty damn good wingman," Sam says, and I think no, Sam, what are you saying, he still has you. She says he should call "that guy" to check on him, and Sam says "that guy was you." Charlie gives him a look. "No, it wasn't." And she's right, Sam. SHE IS NOT YOUR CHARLIE. And also, was Charlie ever really Dean's wingman? I don't think so. Sam, of course. Cas, literal wingman. But not Charlie. Charlie was the little sister.

Sam apologizes, and then says "I'm just saying, I'm not surprised you survived the apocalypse." Which isn't what you were saying at all, Sam. Charlie is surprised she survived, because she was just a programmer at Richard Roman Enterprises (Dick Roman! I wonder what happened to your AU version), living with the love of her life, Cara. My heart skipped a beat because I was so ready, guys, for the love of Charlie's life to be Dr. Cara Roberts from Sex and Violence, but apparently not. {Sidebar fic prompt: Sam. Charlie. Dr. Cara. Three-way.) Charlie's Cara was a baker. Charlie tells a sad story about waiting for help that never came, and Cara eventually being killed by people, not angels. Society falls apart. (Or, as Dean once said, demons I get; people are crazy.) Sam insists society isn't falling apart here, and Charlie says "not yet."

Just like last week, we're getting some needed differentiation between the characters we lost and their AU counterparts, which I appreciate.

I also appreciate pretty, attentive, sympathetic Sam.

Diner. Dean calls Jack "Mighty Mouse," for some reason, and congratulations him on finding a case. He tries to teach him about the importance of pie, but Jack's more interested in courting. He's never been exposed to off-screen romance, unless Gabriel and Rowena counts (Dean assures him it doesn't, but how would Jack have been exposed to Gabriel/Rowena anyway, since it happened while he was in AU Land and Gabriel didn't make it back?) Dean promises he'll give him The Talk when they get back, but right now they need to concentrate on finding Harper. {Sidebar fic prompt: Dean's and Sam's versions of The Talk. Would Dean's be like Dean's speech from Rock and a Hard Place?} Jack speculates she might not be human, and Dean says they're going to find out, and it's going to work like a romance novel. Hmm!

Cut to the library, where Harper is working. Dean enters and identifies himself as FBI, with questions about Winston. She doesn't want to talk, and he pushes. Then Jack shows up, asking for a book about the area's history, and defends her against the big mean FBI guy. Dean says "why don't you back off, kid" and Jack responds "No, you back off, old man" and DEAN'S FACE. This was clearly NOT IN THE SCRIPT. I love it. Dean slinks off, dejected, to examine his gracefully-aging face in the rear-view mirror. {Sidebar: I honestly think Jensen is aging a lot better than Dean is. Dean looks tired a lot of the time, and I'd like to believe Show is doing that on purpose, but I don't think it's the case. Jensen always looks awesome.} Harper is delighted, and apparently smitten, judging by the music. Jack introduces himself as "Jack Smith" and she invites him to her apartment, where she has the perfect book.

Why does this library have those convenience store perp measurements at the door? Does it get robbed a lot? Also, how many episodes have signs in the background with the title of a different episode? Not very many, I'm guessing.

As they leave, Miles the Stapler Guy follows and asks where she's going. It must be close to closing time, because Harper says she'll come back and lock up. Miles, who's carrying a bag of trash, refuses to shake Jack's hand. As Jack and Harper go one way, he stomps off in the other direction. I'm suspicious, and so is Dean, who gets out of the car to follow him. As Miles puts the library's trash in an inappropriately small residential bin, he hears a noise. We then cut to Dean, who hears Miles scream but just keeps walking? But then a trash can is knocked over and that gets his attention. He finds Miles dead, and we get a monster POV shot watching him.

Stakeout. Charlie's still reading. Apparently she brought all the books. She says she hates hunting, which surprises Sam, because she's so good at it. She points out that she's good at it because the alternative was death. "I mean, no offense, but who wants to be a hunter? This job, just a lot of tears and death."

Sam says "you said something like that to me once, long ago, about hunting." He quickly apologizes for once again conflating her with Our Charlie. At first I was annoyed at him, but then I started thinking about how awful Our Charlie's death was for him, with the MoC, and the fear, and the worry, and the guilt, and his brother saying he should be the one on the funeral pyre instead, and you know what? I'm gonna cut him some slack for trying to forget all of that ever happened. A lot of slack, in fact.

Charlie casually drops that she's glad this is her last hunt. Did you give the Chief your two week's notice, Charlie? I DON'T THINK SO. She plans to get away from monsters and people, and "live on a mountaintop or something... as long as there's good wifi." I'm sure Sam can get you set up with his magical wifi, Charlie, if you stay on his good side.

Harper's apartment. She seems to be all about love, with a decorative "amore" sign in the kitchen and a big red heart hanging on the wall. She suddenly realizes it's weird that she brought him to her apartment, though she's thinking "putting the moves on you" weird and I'm thinking "inviting a potential serial killer into your home" weird. But maybe I listen to too much My Favorite Murder.

She leaves the room to get the book (odd that it's not on the stuffed bookshelves in her living room, but they're all full of romance novels). Jack asks why the FBI was "hassling" her, and she tells him about Winston's death as he surreptitiously puts a silver coin on the floor and splashes holy water all over his hands. A call comes from Dean, but he ignores it. When she comes back with the book, she notices the coin on the floor and picks it up. She touches his hand when she gives him the coin and notices that it's wet. I would have put the holy water on the coin, although a wet coin on the floor might be as weird as wet hands. He just laughs weirdly and then does a fake cough AND SAYS CHRISTO. SOMEONE FINALLY REMEMBERED CHRISTO. Oh, my heart. I've been waiting 13 years for this moment. She doesn't react to it, so she seems pretty human. He says he's nervous, so she sits on the couch and pats the seat next to her.

Stakeout. Charlie has found something in the books called a Musca. Sam already knows it's a man-fly hybrid (IT'S THE FLY; OUR MONSTER IS JEFF GOLDBLUM) and that no one's seen them, so if they do exist, they keep to themselves. She's impressed with his Sammy smarts. He says he's read all the books, but if he'd read this one, he'd know that every few hundred years a male Musca can't find a mate and he "abandons his community and starts using people's bodies to nest, binding them together with a viscous goo." Ew.

As they walk, in the background we see a figure approaching the two women who are sitting on the bus stop bench. It's clothed in black, carrying a black briefcase, and it has a giant head. At first I think it's literally a giant fly's head. But when Charlie notices it, we get a closer look, and it's a large black hood, like a beekeeper's outfit. It sits down and then casually scoots closer to the women, who scoot away, and it's hilarious.

Harper's apartment. She asks Jack where he's from, and he tells her he lives in Lebanon, Kansas. NO, JACK. DON'T TELL ANYONE WHERE YOU LIVE. Jack coughs some more and then notices a picture of Harper with her boyfriend, Vance. She says he left town after high school because he wanted to see the world, and Jack seems astonished that anyone would leave her. And that was when her bad luck started, but she tries to stay optimistic. "Me too," Jack says. "I had some not-so-great stuff happen in my past. Trying to be positive... it can be hard." Oh, Jack, sweetie. They gaze into each other's eyes and it looks like they're going to kiss. Jack's phone buzzes with a text from Dean that says CALL ME NOW.

Jack? Do you believe in love at first sight?

Do you... (music swells)... mind if I use the bathroom?

Ha!

Jack hides in the bathroom to call Dean. He tells him Harper isn't a monster, and he thinks she's in love with him. Although Dean's sure that's not the case, Jack says "but if she is, I need to know everything about sex. Go." Ha again! Dean tells him about Miles's death, which makes Jack wonder if she's cursed. Dean says it's more like all the guys around her are cursed. "Like me," Jack ponders, just before we get another monster POV shot and a strangled shout from Dean. The phone goes dead.

Jack comes back into the living room and Harper asks if he's okay and if he wants to go for coffee. Then the door bursts open and Dean comes in, and I wonder why she's freaking out until I remember that Dean is Bad FBI Guy to her. He quickly blocks the door and tell her they're here to save her from... whatever it is that's suddenly growling and banging on her door. "At first I thought it was a ghost," he says, "but then it punched me in the face." She's freaked out about a ghost, but Jack reassuringly (NOT!) tells her that he's saying it's NOT a ghost. Dean recognizes a photo and it turns out the monster is her old boyfriend Vance, who she didn't even realize was dead.

For some reason Dean isn't carrying a lot of weapons, but he has a silver knife and finds a silver letter opener on Harper's desk. Silver will slow it down, he tells them, but there's only one way to kill the undead boyfriend. Vance breaks the door down before we learn what that is. Dean starts fighting with the silver knife and tells Jack to get Harper out of there.

Stakeout. It's nighttime now. A lone man sits at the bus stop as Sam tries to convince Charlie that she can't drop out of society. She needs people, and also, it's hard to walk away from being a hunter. "I tried. Our Charlie tried." You know, for someone who did want out of hunting, and did try to get out of it, Sam spends a lot of time convincing others to do it, or at least enabling them. I mean, Dean was all "Patience, if you can live a normal life, do it," and Sam was all "well, Claire, if you're gonna hunt, I guess I should show you how to hack." Although that (and teaching Ghoul!Adam to shoot) was more about protecting someone determined/forced to be a hunter than recruiting. So maybe I don't know what I'm talking about. Anyway, if anyone recognized the futility of getting out of the life, it would be him.

Jeff Goldblum shows up again and sits by his next victim. Charlie wants to go for the kill, but Sam thinks they should wait for him to make his move, in case he's just into weird fashion. Look, Sam, if a guy likes wearing a black beekeeper's bonnet and sidling up to random strangers at bus stops, he deserves to be hunted, whether or not he's actually part bee. When the bus shows up, it blocks their view of the duo. When it leaves, the bench is empty. Which could mean they just got on the bus, but we see something disappearing behind the stop. Sam decides it's a go after all.

Let's stick with this story, rather than cutting back and forth between them like the show did.

Sam and Charlie find a door with a bunch of goo on the handle. Sam says Charlie found something in the books that theorized a brass nail dripped in sugar water would kill a musca. Because yes, of course sugar water, WHICH FLIES EAT, would kill a fly man. (Rolls my eyes at this otherwise delightful episode.) Charlie reminds him they have neither of those things. "So we get creative," Sam says. I'm expecting some kind of MacGuyvering involving a can of Coke, or Sam's sugary coffee. (Spoiler alert: I'm wrong.)

{Sidebar: Why are all the methods of killing monsters so weirdly specific? Chopping off the head should kill ANYTHING.}

They go through the door, which surprisingly leads them into an abandoned warehouse. It's full of flies (normal ones, not half-man flies) and smells like pine cleaner and rotting meat. Yum. Eventually Sam finds the briefcase, which is full of what looks like candy wrappers and also has a white cloth, which he sniffs to discover chloroform. Dude. Don't sniff the chloroform rag. Charlie finds the most recent victim, still alive, by a pile of bodies. Something grabs Charlie's hand. She pulls loose, but falls off a low platform (seriously, it's like two feet high) and... loses consciousness? Okay. Maybe he chloroformed her and I missed it. I'm old and decrepit and this would have barely bruised me. He must have chloroformed her.

Sam tries to wake her up, but is interrupted by the WORST MONSTER COSTUME EVER. Oh god, you guys, this fly man head is so bad. SO BAD.

{Sidebar: Did you know that you don't see much of the shark in Jaws because the model was so bad, Steven Spielberg decided he wanted to shoot it as little as possible? And it actually made the movie better because the unseen monster was so much scarier? Just saying, Speight.}

(Um, have you watched any movies that were made before 1980?)

Well, that was uncalled for.

Jeff Goldblum attacks Sam and gets goo on him, and if this were really a fly, wouldn't that goo be digesting him? Isn't that how flies eat? (Why yes, it is.) Charlie regains consciousness and stabs it with something, which gets it off Sam long enough for him to shoot it in the head. Creativity in action! So, I guess I got my wish. Interesting that, just like last week, the guys figured out that there are actions that will kill anything.

Aftermath! Charlie and Sam are driving, and Sam says he feels bad for the Musca, which could have been happy if it had stayed home with its people. Subtle, Sam. Charlie's all, yeah, okay, I'm like the bug, except not so much. As we see the Musca family coming to retrieve their brother's body, Sam asks Charlie not to leave. "If we help people, then maybe they'll help people, and all that, and that's worth it. Even with all the tears and death, it's worth it." Oh, Sammy. {sniff} She says she'll think about it.

Back to Jack and Harper. It was broad daylight when they got to her apartment, so I don't know why it's nighttime now. How long did he spend in the bathroom? No wonder she asked if he was okay. Cut to Dean gleefully fighting the zombie, who suddenly stops fighting and runs off.

Jack and Harper run to the library, where she struggles with the keys until Jack remembers she left without locking the door. They scurry inside and he locks it. As they hide behind the counter, they see Zombie Vance run by. Jack tells her not to worry, because he locked the door, and she asks if he flipped the switch under the lock? Obviously he didn't, and she goes to do it herself. As she stands, looking out the door, Vance shows up. She unlocks the door, which Jack obviously DID lock, and opens it. He hands her the history book - I guess Jack dropped it - and they kiss.

Um. whoops. Vance is actually still Harper's boyfriend. And he has to eat human flesh. Like, Jack's, for example. Vance lunges for Jack, who hides in the stacks as Harper gives him the villain dialogue over the library's PA system. She likes Jack, but he's obviously a hunter, and she comes from a long line of necromancers, so it would never work out between them. She killed Vance to keep him from leaving after high school, and killing every other guy in her sights is just a fun little romantic roleplay for them. We get a little scare when a hand appears on Jack's shoulder (been a lot of that going around lately), but it's Dean. He tells Jack they have to get Vance back into his grave and then drive a stake into his heart to keep him there. And they're going to convince him using another romance novel method.

Jack tells her he wants to do things Vance can't do - walk her down the aisle, raise a family. This draws Vance out, who lunges at him but finds himself facing Dean. Vance gets Dean against a wall, and Harper calls out to him. Dean thinks she's going to call him off, but she says "Baby, kill him!" and Dean's "huh" look is precious to me. Instead, Dean slaps a handcuff on his arm and cuffs him to a pole or something. Jack cuffs his other arm to a library cart, I think, which is mobile and therefore defeats the purpose of cuffing, but good try, Jack. The cuffs burn Vance, so they're silver or enchanted or something. Seems like a successful hunt, but when the guys look up, the door is open and Harper is gone.

Later we see Harper and her suitcase at a cafe, writing a letter to Jack. So she had time to go home and pack a suitcase, and Dean and Jack didn't go to her apartment and look for her? Guys. Come on. She's sorry she's going to have to kill Jack, but it means she can bring him back to life and they'll be together forever. See you soon, she writes, sealing the envelope addressed to Jack Smith, c/o the Lebanon, Kansas post office. I TOLD YOU NOT TO LET HER KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE, JACK. Is Harper going to be a Big Bad this season? Or maybe a Little Bad? I wouldn't mind seeing her again. She's a charming little villain.

Finally, Jack's drinking coffee again, probably with a lot of sugar, in the bunker. This scene, with them facing each other, is a nice callback to the beginning of the episode. Dean tells Jack he did good, and Jack pushes for more hunts, because he was right. It's not about being right, Dean tells him, it's about what you do after you're wrong, after you've made a mistake. And about not beating yourself up, Jack points out. Dean tells him he's pretty smart, and Jack smiles and coughs and Dean promises to talk about getting him on more hunts when Sam gets back (BECAUSE SAM IS THE ONE TO ASK, YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT) and Jack lies about being fine and then coughs some more and shows Dean his bloody palm and collapses on the floor with blood oozing from his mouth and nose and WELL. THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY.

And the episode ends, without Sam and Dean sharing a single scene. Has that happened before? It's unsettling. I like the ep, though. I liked the relationship focus - Sam bonding with New Charlie, Dean bonding with Jack. I liked the humor. I liked that Sam wasn't ignored, even though the brothers had separate storylines. I liked the continuation of things that have been happening this season, the gentle reminder (but not constant siren) of Dean's guilty feelings and Sam's leadership and Jack's issues. And, of course, CHRISTO!

And there was one weird thing I noticed on first watch, but it didn't jump out at me on rewatch so I don't remember when it happened... Dean said "Son of a B." This is the second episode where they said something weird instead of bitch. What's going on there? Is Dean never going to say "son of a bitch" again? Because that's not good.

What did you guys think? And please help me stay unspoiled; thanks!

#spn #14.06 #tv recaps #recap #spoilers

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dw-writes · 6 years ago

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Dean is such a babe, I actually had a crush on him when I was younger :') imagine being in a relationship with him when he was a teenager and he moved every few weeks to hunt monsters and you had to see him leave while he promised you that he'll come back for you one day and??? The years have passed but you haven't forgotten and one day he reappears when weird things have been happening in town and???? Can you imagine the feels?? I'm super weak for this headcanon lmao

I started to really roll with this one!! This was, honestly, a lot of fun to write!! But, if you ask my DND group, I started to stress in our group chat because I got stuck. So. I hope it turns out okay, nonnie!! It turned out a LOT longer than I thought it would, too!! I really like it, honestly, and if you want a continuation or any other Dean request, let me know!! ^-^

“Welcome to the Layline, sir,would you like a booth, table, or a seat at the bar?” The words were automaticnow, a knee jerk reaction to the sound of the bell that dinged over the door.This man smiled at you, tight and thin, and nodded his head as you grabbed amenu.

“Booth, please,” he said. Heinclined his head again as he asked, “In the corner?”

You smiled and your cheekshurt. “Of course.”

“Oh, uh, and another menu. Mybrother’s coming.”

You rolled your lips togetherand snatched another one up. “Just follow me, okay?” You turned without makingsure he was following and briskly headed down the aisle, stopping at the cornerbooth just like he asked. He slid his bag into the booth first, then himself,facing the door. You set both menus down in front of him as you gave him yourname. “I’ll be by in just a bit to get your drinks, okay?”

“Actually, could I get awater?” he asked. You nodded, clicking your pen and pulling out a smallnotebook. “And a beer, whatever you have a tap, for my brother.”

“No offense, hun, but I’mgonna have to wait until your brother gets here to get that beer,” you said.You poked over your shoulder with your pen. “Bar policy: I need to card toeveryone.”

His smile stretched andactually looked genuine. “I get it,” he said. He pulled a laptop from the bagnext to him. “I’ll let him known when he gets here.” You tapped your pen on thenotebook, staring at his profile as he booted up the laptop. His eyes flickedto you nervously. “Something wrong?” he finally asked.

“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry,” yougasped, “You just…look reallyfamiliar.”

He had the grace to laugh. “Iget that a lot,” he said. He leaned back and tapped his palm against the table.“But, uh…we used to live here. My brother, my dad, me. It’s been a while, but…”

“Well ain’t that sweet!” youexclaimed. You leaned over his table just enough to peek through the blindsnext to him, pointing at a tall building a few blocks away and across thestreet. “I used to go there – it’s called P.S. 386 now, since they can’t decideon a name for it anymore – it’s the whole reason we have such a strict cardingpolicy.” You smiled as sweetly as you could. “Used to be Heart of the UnionHigh School.” You rolled your eyes. “Stupid name, I know, but this is an oldlittle town and the people used to call this place the Heart of the Union.”

“No kiddin, huh?” he politelyresponded. “We uh, we actually used to go there.” His smile became bashful.“About…ten? Years ago? Twelve, maybe?”

“No joke?” Your voice caughton your Midwestern twang. “What was your name, again?” you asked.

His mouth split in that sweetand bashful smile, his hand fluttering up to push through his hair. Before hecould answer, the bell above the door dinged as it opened. “Sammy!” came adeeper voice, “There you are.”

“Sammy!” The voice was higher, softer, closerto your ear as you tried not to snort and give yourself away. “What do youwant, I’m busy!” His voice was just loud enough to be heard through the door hespoke through.

“You’re in a broom closet,” came the responsefrom the other side.

“He has a point,” you whispered. Dean’s faceturned to yours, close enough for his nose to smack yours, for you to see theway his green eyes squinted as he grinned.

“Oh he does, huh?” he teased. Your fingerscurled around the collar of his jacket and you smiled. Your reply was nevercame as he pressed his mouth to yours.

You knocked your knucklesagainst the table and gave Sam a million watt smile. “Tell you what, Sam Sam, y’allorder whatever you like. It’s on the house.”

The kindness in his face fellas he stared at you, sitting up quickly, repeating your name as the familiarityof it all finally hit him. You bowed your head and turned away. You could feelSam’s eyes on your back as you absconded to the kitchen. Dean’s, too. Anotherwaitress frowned as you fumbled your apron off and set it on the counter.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Um…” You leaned back againstthe counter, staring at her. “Could you take that table? And just…text me whenthey leave? I’ll cover their bill, don’t worry about that.”

“Why, what’s the big deal?”she asked, frowning. She moved to peer around the kitchen door.

You grabbed her shoulder.“Please? The….the older one’s my ex…”

“Your ex?” Her voice was flatas her eyes searched your face. Suddenly, she straightened, eyes wide. “Thatex?” she asked. When you nodded, she whirled around to the door. “I should gopunch his lights out!”

“It’s been a long time, Idoubt he remembers me,” you protested.

“He left? For years, okay?After he said “don’t worry, I’ll be back in a few weeks” blah blah blah.” Shecrossed her arms as she turned back to you. She knew the story. She’d heard itmore than a few times during your drunken rants, held you as you lamented abouthow you had really felt about him. She told you it wasn’t fair, that youdeserved better. You agreed, said you’d move on.

But you just…couldn’t.

Now, here he was. DeanWinchester.

Your friend grabbed yourshoulders, setting them straight, running her hand over your spine to make sureyou were standing properly. She tied the apron around your waist and licked herthumb to rub away a pen mark on your cheek. “Look, you’re gonna go out there,show him that you don’t give a shit that he’s here, and make him regret evergetting in that car.” She tilted her head. “I’ll spit in his food.”

“No!” you protested.

“Then you have to work thetable,” she replied with a shrug.

You groaned and slowly madeyour way out, glancing back at her. She just grinned. When your eyes landed onthe table, Dean was watching you. He was starting to smile.

“Only one person has evercalled Sammy ‘Sam Sam’,” he pointed out.

“Hi, Dean,” you mumbled. Youtapped your pen against the table, making it click with each push. “Um,” youpaused, watched as he twisted the ring on his right hand, “What can I get youguys?”

They ordered.

You wrote.

You passed it along to thekitchen and only saw them when you brought their food out to the table.Otherwise, you stayed in the kitchen, staring at the floor, wondering when yourstomach was going to stop twisting into knots.

Your friend stormed past you,carrying a tray at her side. You turned and watch over your shoulder as sheapproached their table. “So, why’d you come back, hm?” she asked. Sam lookedpast her, locking eyes with you, asking please please come get her, please? Dean sat back in his seat, staring upat her, swallowing whatever he had been eating. “What’s the point, huh?”

“We’re here to work, miss,” Deanstated. He reached into his jacket, pulling out a black billfold that he openedto your coworker. Inside was a badge. An FBI badge. You straightened, grippingthe door frame with both hands. Your friend handed the badge back to him. “Notto cause trouble. We’re looking into those deaths that have been happening atthe high school.”

“Oh,” was all she managed tosay. She adjusted her grip on her tray, moving her hands from a position to strikehim with the plastic disc, to holding the top of it as she balanced it againsther foot. “We don’t really know much. Most of the kids from the school come infor dinner or lunch, so…its hard to keep faces straight.”

“That’s no problem, we kindathought that’d be the case,” he replied.

Your friend tapped her foot. “Well…Imean, you know the food is paid for. So. I wouldn’t linger for too long.” Shewhirled around on her heel and marched back to the kitchen, mouthing ‘FBI asshe passed you. You shook your head and followed her. “I didn’t know you werefriends with the FBI,” she said.

“One, we’re not friends,” yousaid. You crossed your arms and stared out of the kitchen door, watching as theboys finished their food and packed up what they had. “And two, there’s no waythey’re FBI. Sam, maybe. But not Dean.”

“Why’s that?” she asked. Youuntied your apron, checking the clock. You quietly told her you were going onyour break. “Hey! Where are you goin?!” she called after you, “Don’t doanything I wouldn’t do!” She hesitated. “I’ll call the cops if you’re not backin thirty five minutes!”

You grabbed your coat thathung near the front door and hurried outside after both Sam and Dean. Samlooked up, stopping in front of the immaculately clean car. “Is everythingokay?” he asked hesitantly. You stormed past him and grabbed Dean’s elbow,dragging him away from the car. “Or not?” Sam’s voice trailed after you.

“Hey, could you let go?!”Dean protested, following you awkwardly as you gripped his arm. “I would havefollowed you if you asked!”

You spun around to face him.Your breath puffed in the late fall air. “Okay, what are you really doing here?”you asked, “Because I’m not buying this FBI crap. Especially not from you.”

“Why not from me? I couldhave matured in ten years, you don’t know,” Dean snapped. He crossed his arms,arching his eyebrows and jutting his chin out at you, as though it proved hispoint.

You fisted your hands on yourhips, staring at him. “That, for one,” you said, motioning to him. Dean scoffedas though you had insulted his first born. “And two, you never got along withauthority. Ever. Not even teachers.”

“So?” he scoffed.

“So cut the crap, DeanWinchester, and own up to the fact that you fucked up. That’s it, that’s all Iwant. I just want you to own up to the fact that you lied to me!” youexclaimed.

As you spoke, Dean started tostutter, his hands moving this way and that as he tried to form a sentence overyour words. “Hold on just a minute,” he finally managed to get through, “Ithought we’d be back after a week. It was my dad that decided against that.”

“And you, what, forgot phonesexisted?” you asked, “Or even a good old fashioned letter?” He fell silent,face contorting as he tried to think of something else to say. “You know, oneof the few things I remember about then was that my parents didn’t want mehanging around you two,” you commented, almost like an afterthought. You crossedyour arms, leaning into Dean’s space, hoping that he could feel the anger rolloff you. “Your dad freaked everyone out when he asked questions. And peoplesaid that the motel room you guys stayed in for months was like some freaky survivalistsbunker on the go!”

“Well, it kind of was, in away!” Dean exclaimed.

“And now you’re back, doingthe exact same thing?” His face fell as your words hit him. You shifted yourweight and stepped toward him, hunching your shoulders around your ears in anattempt to make yourself smaller. “Dean you don’t,” you licked your lips, “You don’tjust throw out that you might love someone and then disappear for years. Years.”The words physically hurt, like an old hole being punched through your chest asecond time.

He was silent for a longtime. His eyes darted over your face, watching you watch the trees across thestreet. “I didn’t know we weren’t gonna come back,” he repeated. Your shouldersdropped. You met his gaze. “Dad didn’t think it was important for us to comeback.”

“And you didn’t say anything,”you added.

Dean’s hands made a loud clapsound as they fell against his thighs. “What was I gonna say to him, huh? Beghim to bring me back? Because of a high school crush?” The words stung. Yourolled your eyes and turned away, starting back for your car. “Wait, wait,wait, that came out wrong,” Dean insisted. He followed you, boots crunching thefrozen grass. You kept walking. His hand wrapped around your elbow. “Let mestart over.”

“Why?” you asked as youwhirled around, yanking your arm free. “It’s been a long time, Dean.” You feltthe cold prick at your eyes as they started to water. “I’m a different person.A better person. Give me a good reason why I should let you start over.”

His mouth opened and closedfor a long moment. “I just meant my excuse,” he stuttered out. When youscoffed, he stepped forward, hands raised to frame your shoulders. “But, if Ican, I would take that second chance. You’re a different person. So am I. Imean, I haven’t made out with someone in a broom closet in a long, long time.”

“Are you just gonna keepmaking jokes?” you asked.

He finally gripped yourshoulders gently, pressing his fingers into the puffed fabric of your jacket. “No,I promise,” he said. “I can prove that I’m a better person.” You arched youreyebrow. “We…” He trailed off, looking down at his boots, “We can’t stay toolong, okay? But I will stay in touch. Every day. I promise.”

You pulled away from him. “I’llbelieve it when I see it, Dean,” you said. Your voice was fragile as you turnedaway.

The Winchesters left town twodays later. You knew it would happen, but you still couldn’t help the hollowfeeling that sat heavy in your stomach. You waited tables, took orders, and satparties for hours on autopilot. When closing time came and went and you startedon your trek home, you checked your phone. You had a couple of messages and onemissed call. The messages each had a picture attached. You flipped through eachof them:

One, a coffee cup in front ofa grey morning sky. A hand held the top of it so that the name Sam Sam could beread across the white cardboard. The message attached said, “Got him.”

Two, a picture of Sam passedout in the passenger’s seat of the Impala. They were stopped, since a coffeestained spoon was balanced on the tip of Sam’s nose. No message came with that.

The last was from the balconyof a cheap motel. It was a large, four story square surrounding a pool that wasclosed for the season. “Made it,” were the only two words. As you backed out ofthe messages, you saw the icon for a voicemail at the top of your phone. Onceyou were in your car – doors locked – you played the message.

“Probably busy,” said Dean’s scratchyand exhausted voice, “But I wanted to let you know that we got here. Told you I’dkeep in touch and I certainly plan to do that, even if it means phone tag. Didit for years with my dad, I can certainly do it with you.” He cleared histhroat. “I’ll give you a ring in the morning. G’night.”

You shouldn’t have – really youshouldn’t have – but your lips tugged up in a smile and your fingers flewacross the keyboard.

“Good night.”

It chimed in less than aminute.

“Good night.”

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester/reader #dean/reader #dean x reader #Anonymous

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rozcdust · 3 years ago

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STORY TIME,,,

but not really because it's technically just me word vomiting. I apologize for dumping this on you 😫😫😫 this is long LONG

idk if you remember me talking about this dude I've been admiring that happened to be one of my coworker's crush as well but I gotta tell you smth cause I feel kind of iffy about it

ngl I've just been admiring him from afar because he seems cute under the mask I feel really shallow about this, but I don't want to attempt to shoot my shot until I know he's at least physically my type/attractive (damn that sounded even worse than in my head).

reason for that is because I don't know him. like I've literally never spoken a word with this dude before (we just pass by each other every so often) so I don't have a single clue of how he is personality-wise and he could be a complete asshole yk. secondy, he smokes,,, and while that isn't really a red flag for me, it is a huge turn-off seeing as I've had shit lungs ever since I was little. so if I were to pursuit something he at least need to be cute cause there's nothing going on for him rn 😫

and now here's the thing that makes me feel disgusting about myself. I've been trying to find his socials and I'm clearly not fbi level like some other people when it comes to this stuff because I couldn't find shit and I don't want to ask our mutual acquaintances because that'd make it obvious af.

BUT HERE'S THE KICKER OKAY

I work as a clerk, meaning I have one way to find a picture because I have access to a computer 90% of the time I'm working... and the only thing I need is an employee ID (just a side note tho, I don't see any other employee details but their name and picture).

so one day I had to go home early because I wasn't feeling well and he just happened to be starting around the time I was asking to leave. and what a fucking coincidence that the swipe clock was broken so we'd have to log it on a fucking piece of paper. I had to write my fucking details right under his and that included his mfing employee number that I could remember in 2 seconds because it's shorter compared to codes I've had to memorize for work. Okay?! OKAY!

so you could probably already guess what I did with that information. this bitch searched it up on the fucking computer. I found his profile and clicked on his name so I could see his picture and lemme tell you. THIS MOTHERFUCKER DIDN'T HAVE ANY!!! I wanted to bang my head on the wall as my soul slowly left my body.

I was fucking disgusted at myself cause I felt like a stalker, granted it was a complete coincidence that I had to log my info right after him, BUT I LOOKED AT IT!!! that didn't sit right with me and to this day I still can't believe I did that. but to think that I didn't even get the result I expected after all this stress and shit.

like fuck it I give up. better to just move on with my life goddammit if smth happens then it happens. anyways this is a whole ass train wreck and I can't believe I just aired out my dirty laundry to people on the internet but I needed to get this off my chest.

from the girl who swore to only be with animated men and women from this point onwards

~👑J

don’t apologise at all love, i’m always here to listen 💖

as for the situation, i fully understand feeling like a creep but also i understand the curiosity behind it 😭

i am aro, so i really don’t know how to offer any helpful advice at all :((( i’m sorry, but i really hope getting it off your chest helped at least a little bit, plus if nothing happens with this guy, there are plenty of other really cute people!

and deciding to simp only for 2d people is def the best idea 😩 they can never disappoint 🤧

#💮deiasks #a #👑J #it’s okay hun :(((#i hope you’re okay too 💕

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lefthanded-sans · 7 years ago

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Heya! You're a linguist, right? Any advice for someone who would love to get into English linguistics with a burning passion, but don't see that as being possible owing to the fact that they're a foreigner/not a native speaker and are afraid they might not get any work because of it other than translation (and I'm guessing the pay isn't that great anyway)? Or just, what's it like being a linguist?

Heyaaaa! Great to chat with you again! Sorry for being so slow responding to you, and I hope this answer helps!

I’ll go through all of these questions, because why not? I want to help as much as I can, and I’m always willing to help and talk more. I’ll also be backtracking and talking some basics of what it means to be a linguist, just so that other people who read this can follow along with the discussion.

What it’s like being a linguist!

Unlike what many people might suspect, linguistics isn’t a field about speaking a ton of languages. While many linguists speak more than one tongue fluently, that’s because we love language, not because that’s the heart of our profession. Linguistics is the scientific study of language, and it covers everything from how we anatomically pronounce words, to the physical acoustic properties of language, to how words and sentences are structured, to how we humans socially respond to language, and more. It means there are a ton of subfields in linguistics, and that linguistics can often get interdisciplinary.

My primary subfield all throughout my undergraduate and graduate work was phonetics, which is the study of language at its smallest sound units. I studied the acoustic properties of sounds, how the vocal tract biologically was made up and moved to create these sounds, the acoustic makeup of all the tiny sound units in a language (often represented as letters in languages) - aka phonemes, how the presence of one sound unit can alter how another is pronounced, things like phrasal tone where your voice pitch varies throughout a sentence, and more.

While I love phonetics, the truth is that the high majority of my career work hasn’t been in phonetics. Almost all of my work has been in the semantic-syntactic interface - where the meaning of sentences interacts with how sentences are structured. In a given day of work, I’ll receive hoards of written sentences online from a computer database. My overseers will tell me how they want me to analyze and organize the data, usually through some sort of annotation scheme where I make notes on top of the sentences. I analyze how meaning is embedded through the structure of the sentences according to that annotation scheme, then send the data back to be processed by computers. That’s because most of my work has to do with machine learning. For computers to get better at understanding sentences, we feed data with annotations to them to help them understand how to parse sentences. Then, they can make future better “comprehension” choices on their own with new sentences they receive. This has a variety of applications, including improving online search functions or making virtual assistants like Siri and Amazon Echo understand you better.

There is a somewhat fair though not unending amount of work to be found in this area, if you know where to look.

Now, I’m going to be transparent about the financial situation and work stability situation of my jobs. That way, you can decide whether or not it’s something you want to gamble yourself. And it is a little gamble because I’m not living a full-time, steady, long-term job. Currently, I work as a contract consultant, annotator, and adjudicator. Sometimes clients will hire me to look at their data for one month, three months, or in the luckiest cases, a year. This means I am constantly looking for new work, I don’t have any health, etc. benefits because I’m part-time (this is of course an issue for my country, not internationally), and I often am doing one to four contracts simulntaneously. There’s also something to be said that, even when I’m hired for a position, data comes in SPURTS - sometimes there are weeks where I’m twiddling my thumbs doing nothing, and other weeks where I am overloaded with tight deadlines and have to work around the clock.

In all of my positions, I’m working temporarily with clients in part-time temporary jobs. It’s remote work where I can choose the hours of the day I work, chill in my pajamas at home, all sorts of great stuff. I communicate with my coworkers or superiors almost entirely through email and online chat, with the RARE Skype call or face-to-face meeting.I tend to get my contracts through a company called Appen or by connecting with old peers from my university days (I still work for my university’s cognitive science research department, in fact). I started doing annotations part-time when I was an undergraduate sophomore in 2012 and was paid about $11 an hour. Now, I make about $18-20 per hour for my contract positions. Specifically, I have slowly bargained up my pay from about $12 to $20 in the last year. So I’m getting increasingly paid higher with each new gig. I don’t know how much higher I can increasingly climb, but it’s not bad pay when I get enough hours (and hours is where it’s hardest to win).

Other linguists will have different types of jobs than me. There is a ton of work - and good stable work! - in the computational linguistics field if you’re interesting in programming and working with the computer side of studying language. That’s the safest gamble. Other linguists will contact indigenous people groups to study endangered languages, and spend their days either out in the field recording speech with tape recorders, or studying the language closely in their office. Others will get their TOEFL certificates and teach English to non-native speakers. Lots of different things that might come up. Again, if you know where to look, and if you’re creative enough to know how to apply your degree to different things.

You’re right that translation is one of the areas you see the most job openings for. Depending on all the languages you know, it’ll be easier or harder to break into. I’ve never looked into translation. I doubt I’d get hired, first of all; I live in a an area which has a high percentage of bilingual Spanish speakers, so everyone’s going to hire the people who speak both Spanish and English fluently and natively (as versus me, who grew up in a monolingual household and started to learn Spanish at thirteen years old). Lots of translation jobs even specify that they want you to be a NATIVE speaker of the language you’re translating, which means that someone like me who came from a monolingual household is 100% out of luck. The other reason why I don’t do translation is because, while there are some translation jobs that pay okay, lots of them don’t, and lots of them in my country/state aren’t full-time. I’ve seen a number of translation positions that pay you by the number of words or pages you translate, and the pay isn’t that pretty when you add it up.

That’s not true for all translation jobs, though, especially if you happen to speak high demand but less commonly spoken languages for your region (in my area, something like Arabic or Bangladeshi could get you a pretty penny). ASL (American Sign Language) translator jobs in my country are always nice gigs. And people who speak English as a second language and something else “uncommon” as their first language have a pretty good shot of being hired for something.

But I know translation isn’t what you’re interested in. Which is fair.

Now, as far as breaking into English linguistics as a non-native speaker, you’re right that you’ll probably run into obstacles, but they’re not imposssssssible to get around. Especially if your verbal speech is anything like the writing you do for English, you’re almost certainly FINE. This following discussion is more specifically for the academic community of linguistics, but what I would do whenever I wanted to study a language I didn’t speak… was get an academic partner who did. And in many types of studies you do, depending on your linguistics subfield, you won’t even need to worry about that. Honestly the biggest challenge isn’t whether English is your first language or not, because linguists get their fingers over any language whenever and wherever they can… the biggest challenge is that English has been very thoroughly studied academically in linguistics compared to many other languages. VERY thoroughly studied. Whereas I had an easier time finding unstudied topics in languages like Khmer, I’d be harder pressed to find easy research areas in languages like Mandarin or Spanish. Buuuuuuuuut there are still many, many Unknowns I have come across in English linguistics - for instance, lots and lots and lots that needs to be done in the sociolinguistic arena. Most of my doctorate peers wrote their second year papers on English. Granted, that was a sample size of five people, but nevertheless. There are still things to be said about the language academically, if you know where and how to look.

Whether or not this’ll be a big hindrance to you depends on more choices than “I want to study English linguistics.” It reaaaaaally depends what subfield you want to get into, whether you go into graduate school, whether you want to enter lingusitics academia or something else, and where you live and how accessible/fluent English is to your overall populace. In some fields more than others, you may find barriers. So be careful, but don’t rule out opportunities completely. I’ll point out I’ve seen native speakers of Arabic, Russian, Spanish, Japanese, Polish, and Mandarin professionally study English… so it’s certainly something that’s not uncommon or impossible!

#linguistics #non-UT #long post #blabbing Haddock #ask #ask me #itsrainingsomewhereelse

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queen-syko · 7 years ago

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Misha Collins x Reader: Coffee

Author: Francesca Roman

Warnings: Cursing, Light Smut, Ignorance

Word Count: 2,000+

. . . .

It was a cool fall morning. My eyes flutter open as I hear thunder shake the whole house. Yet another stormy morning in Vancouver, Canada. I didn't want to get out of the warm comfort of my bed but I had no other choice. I had to get up and get ready for another wacky day on the set of Supernatural. I sat up in my bed, stretching my arms above my head then grabbing my phone off of the bedside table, putting in my password, then turn my wifi back on.

Immediately, notifications from Facebook, Snapchat, Instagram, Twitter and my emails start filing through my screen as expected. I was fixated on my emails more than everything else because that's how I communicate with my work and coworkers (call me old fashioned). None of the emails caught my attention then my eyes traveled up to the time.

I felt my eyes bulge out of my head and quickly jump out of bed, leave my phone on my bed then rush into my bathroom which was connected to my bedroom. I started stripping my clothing from my body then turned on the shower. I have to wait for the water to warm up so I looked into my mirror and noticed I was starting to get a couple pimples on my face.

I huffed then took my toothbrush and squeezed out some Colgate toothpaste onto the bristles. I start brushing my teeth and tongue. I heard my cell start ringing and jogged over to my bed with my toothbrush still in my mouth. I pressed the answer button and held it up to my ear. "Hello." I muffled walking back into the bathroom to rinse my toothbrush and mouth.

"Hey Y/n, I know you're running late so don't even sweat it because I am too. How about I pick you up and we ride together so we don't have to get shitted on one by one?" I smiled as Osric's voice sounded through my speaker. I spit out the toothpaste and extra saliva into the sink and said, "Yeah sure, thanks buddy. Hopefully we won't get shitted on at all."

I rinsed my mouth with water then mouthwash as Osric went on about why we shouldn't get in trouble. "Okay dude, I gotta get in the shower you know where I live. Thanks, see you in a little bit." He laughed and said, "Okay bye buddy." Then I hung up and threw my phone on my bed. I got into the shower, cringing back as the extremely hot water runs down my body.

I adjust the water then begin to wash my hair and body. I shave my legs, accidently cutting my ankle from going to quick along my skin with the razor. I rinse my body and hair once more before washing my face to try and help with the acne problem. I shut my spout off then get out of the shower. I wrap my soaking wet body with a fluffy blue towel. I walk over to my closet and pull out a pair of black leggings and an over sized t shirt. I walk over to my dresser and pull out a pair of socks, underwear, and a bra.

I dry myself off and put a bandaid on my razor cut and put on my undergarments. I slide the over sized shirt over my head the put on my black leggings. I put my socks on then slide on a pair of brown boots. I grab the towel and dry my hair almost all the way. I brush it out of the way, into the nicest style I could come up with right now.

I grab my phone and bag the shut off my lights in my bedroom and bathroom then walked down my stairs. The weather outside was still horrible. Thunder and lightening was coming thicker with each passing minute. I hear a beep outside my house and open the door after grabbing a raincoat. I put on my coat and pull the hood over my head. I close and lock my door then run over to the big black suv. I oped the door and sat next to Osric.

The suv pulled foward and started driving down the street. "Maybe we should move in together since we're always late." Osric said looking at me. "Nice outfit by the way. Who bought you that t shirt?" I looked down at my shirt sighed. I forgot this shirt had I ♡ Misha on the front. "Shut up." I mumbled then laid my head against the window and waited for us to be dropped off.

About ten minutes later Osric and I walked through the set doors, immediately getting looks from some of the crew members. "Well look what the cat dragged in. Nice t shirt by the way." A snide voice sounded from the set in front of us. It was Hailey Spencer. She is playing as a guest star. She happens to be one of the girls I hated in high school. "Blow me Hailey. At least I look better than you for being late."

The words left my mouth before I could think. I heard covered laughter coming from the guys around me. Hailey didn't say anything she just glared at me and started talking to one of the stunt guys again. Osric and I parted ways. He was being dragged off to make up while I was being dragged off to wardrobe. I quickly dressed into Finley's clothing then walked over to hair and make up.

They restyled my hair then put on a quick coat of simple make up. It's not like we were filming a fighting scene where I needed fake blood and cuts. I had to film a scene with Misha today. I was nervous. I rarely ever film with Misha because we usually goof off and get yelled at and because I've got the biggest crush on him but I don't think he's noticed.

"Okay you're good to go girly. See you later." Geinie said as I got up and thanked her then left the make up station. I jogged over to the set where Misha and I needed to film. A director, some crew and Misha sat there waiting patiently for me to get there. "Hey guys I'm sorry I'm late. My alarm clock didn't go off. Let's get this going."

Misha smiled at me then looked at the director that was filming this episode. "I'm glad you finally got here. But yes, let's get 'this' going" John said motioning to the scene. "Marker! Episode 47. Scene 12. Take 1 and Action!" I heard a snap then the cameras started rolling. Misha quickly got into the famous character, Castiel and I had gotten into Finley. I leaned against the table and looked up at him. He was so handsome. He stated his lines and I said mine. This went on with many slip ups and goofy comments in between slip ups. We finished the scene and then we were dismissed.

I have a couple more scenes with J2 a little bit later so I walked over to the coffee table and started filling my cup with a hot brew. As I managed my cup with sugar and cream I jumped about a mile high when I heard a deep voice sound next to my ear. I almost spilled my coffee but didn't because coffee is too big of a deal to spill it.

"I thought you wern't going to make it." Misha said with a smirk on his perfect lips. "Yeah well I'm here so." I took a sip of the simmering Columbian brew and smiled. "I'm taking that's your first cup if the day?" I smiled and took another sip, nodding. "One of one hundred if I'm going to be working with J2 later." His eyes met mine and my heart fluttered.

His eyes were the perfect shade of blue. It's like I could see the whole Pacific ocean in those eyes. Misha waved a hand in front of my face and I snapped out of whatever trance I was in. I'm guessing he asked something because he was waiting for an answer. "I'm sorry I'm still half asleep. What did you ask?" I said staring into his eyes once again.

"I'm having a small party later to celebrate turning the big four 'o. Maybe you can swing by. I mean only if you want to. I'm not trying-" He started to ramble and I smiled. I cut him off by cover his mouth with my hand. "Sure, where is it?" I asked and he just looked amazed.

"It's at my apartment. It's nothing major just the guys, some crew. Gen might come with Jared." I nodded and took another sip. "Okay I'll be there, I gotta go run lines with Jensen. He said he would help me with this scene we're supposed to be filming today. I'll see you later Misha." He smiled at me and I returned the notion. I turned and walked out of set and over to Jensen's trailer. I gotta get myself one of these.

Later on that night it was about six thirty when we all finished filming. I changed out of Finley's clothing and into an extra outfit I kept in wardrobe and left my outfit from this morning in there. It was still pouring so I took my raincoat and put it on. I took out my phone and called for a ride to Misha's. He doesn't live that far from me.

So if anything I could just walk home from his after the party. The black suv pulled up and got into the front seat. "Hey what's up Rob?" He smiled at me and said, "Nothing really. Where am I taking you tonight Y/n?" I looked out the window as we started moving. "Misha's. He's having a birthday party." He said okay and we pulled out of the set area.

We pulled up outside of Misha's place and I thanked him and got out of the suv. He rolled down the window and asked, "Do you need a ride later?" I said, "No if anything I'll just walk. I live like down the street. Thanks Rob. See you whenever." We waved to each other and I walked into the building and rang the buzzer to Misha's apartment.

"Hello?" A deep voice pounced through the speaker. "It's me. Let me in." Immediately, he hit the buzzer and unlocked the door. As I walked though the door a voice from behind me came about. "Wait! Hold the door!" That voice. It was Hailey's. "Oh Y/n." She said as she walked closer to the door. "It's could close the door and lock you out."

She rolled her eyes and walked in after I did. "Whatever let's just get upstairs." I walked over to the elevator and pressed the up button. Nothing was said until we were closed in the elevator together. "I'm surprised Misha even invited you. Misha doesn't even like you." I didn't say anything and waited for this ride from hell to be over.

She spoke up again, "You know him and I are so close. We're practically together." That was when I open my mouth. "Hailey he is like twenty years older than you are. He could be your father. Just shut the fuck up and stop taking to me. You're fucking annoying voice is giving me a migraine." The elevator dinged and I brushed passed her and walked down to Misha's door with Hailey I'm tow. I knocked and the door opened up quickly. Misha's smile matched my own as our eyed connected.

"Come on in sweetheart." I smiled and walked through the door. Misha went to go close it when Hailey pushed it open. "Don't forget me!" Her high pitched voice said coming into the room. She brought Misha into a long hug. Anyone with eyes could see the discomfort in his soul. I sighed as she let go of him and kissed his cheek. She walked passed us and I just stared at Misha.

"Sorry about her. She knows I don't like her. I made that clear when she tried to kiss me on set two weeks ago." I nodded and my eyes connected with his. He held his arms open, waiting for me to give him a hug. "Can I get a hug from my bed friend?" Right, friend. I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck. He was warm and strong. He smelled like watermelon and cinnamon. We pulled apart but not to the point where we let go fully.

Our faces were close. I could feel his minty breath on my face. He was inching closer. Out lips were about to connect but we're interrupted by the buzzer sounding right by our heads. I jumped a little and felt my cheeks become rosy. "You should get that." I backed away from him and smiled. He nodded. He had a faint pigment of pink laying on his cheeks too. He was adorable. Did I just call a forty year old man adorable? Fuck yes I did. Oops.

I turned away from him and slugged my coat off my shoulders. I took it off completely and held it in my hands until Misha came up to me and took it from me. "I can put that in the other room. Make yourself at home." He smiled and left me alone. I walked through the short hallway and could hear laughter and music coming from where I presumed it was the living room.

I saw Jensen and Jared playing darts, Hailey talking to Jared stunt, and some other crew sitting on the couches or standing around drinking and/or conversing with each other. I looked at Jared and Jensen once I heard my name being called. "Come over here Y/n." I smiled and walked over to the two younger men. I was only a few months older than them but Misha was two years older than me.

"What are yah drinking?" Jared asked throwing a dart at the board. "Got Red's?" He smiled and nodded. "Here, I knew it was your favorite so I stocked up on it." Misha said behind me. His hand slipped onto my waist and he handed me my favorite beer.

"Thanks Mish." It was already opened as I took it into my hands. His hand never left my waist. I sipped on my beer and felt myself leaning towards Misha. Jared and Jensen went back to playing darts. Misha and I watched as we sat on bar stools talking amongst ourselves.

Two hours had passed and Misha had his arm around my shoulder now. I wasn't going to complain because I was completely falling for him so why not let it happen? Nothing could ruin this right now. "Want another?" Misha asked pointing to my empty bottle. I already have four. If I went passed five I would be completely hammered. I smiled and nodded. He got up and stumbled over to the fridge and got out his and my favorite beers and stumbled back over to where I sat.

He popped them open and sat back down next to me, sliding his arm around my waist and bringing me closer to him. He was so cute when he was drunk. We sipped on our beers and just enjoyed each others company as we watched everyone mingle and party. Misha turned his head and laid it onto my shoulder, and into the crease of my neck. I froze when his hot breath hit my skin.

"You smell so good." He stood up and moved in front of me. I stood up as he set my beer on the counter with his and leaned down to nudge his face back into my neck. I felt him humming on my skin. He wrapped his arms around my waist until we were completely evolved with one another. My arms found their way around his shoulders, almost as if we were dancing. A nice calm song came on as I saw him look up at me. Our eyes connected. "Happy Birthday Misha."

I heard people leaving but I was too focused on Misha to care if I had said goodbye to everyone. I did see Jared and Jensen look at us then leave quietly while dragging Hailey along with them. The door closed and it was now just us, alone together. The music was going softer. J2 probably changed it before leaving. He laid his forehead onto mine. As he inched closer to my face my eyes fluttered shut. Our lips finally connected and fuck, I was so fuzzy inside.

Our lips moved in motion. We both were trying so hard not to miss the opportunity of receiving each and every breath of each other. His lips were like hot silk as they moved with mine. His hands roamed down to my ass, bringing me closer to him to feel his bulge in his jeans press to my stomach. He brought his lips down to my neck and began sucking and biting each and every unmarked area.

"Jump baby." He said grabbing my ass again. I jumped up and he held me to his body, his lips never leaving my neck. He brought us over to his couch and I straddle him. He moved my hair out of my face and kissed my lips softly. "You're so perfect." He said looking into my eyes. I smiled and pecked his lips once more.

"I-" He went to speak but i brought his lips up to mine and kissed him once more before pulling away. "What's wrong?" I asked holding him closely. "I have to tell you something if we're going to keep going." He said seeming very concerned. "What is it Mish? Is everything okay?"

I asked placing my hands on his cheeks. "Everything is fine but I just-" He stalled for a second, "I'm in love with you." I froze and just stared into his eyes unable to reciprocate a response. I just leaned down to his face and kissed his perfect lips softly. His lips moved with mine slowly. "I'm in love with you to Misha." He smiled and pulled me closer. "Really? You mean that?"

The thunder and lightening rumbled the windows. The rain wasn't letting up anytime soon and for once I was happy that I just couldn't run, it's not like I wanted to. "I'm really do mean it. I've been in love with you for weeks now. I just didn't think you felt the same. Clearly, I was wrong." He laughed and kissed my lips. Thunder sounded louder than before and made me jump. "I was thinking the same thing you were honey." I looked into his ocean blue eyes. "Why don't we move this to the other room?" I nodded and he lifted me up with him and started kissing me while moving to his bedroom. This is going to be one hell of a night.

.....

The light of the sun glared through the drawn curtains. The smell of watermelon and cinnamon filled my nostrils. I felt warmth on my back and Misha's arms wrapped around my body. His breath tickled my face as he held me so close. I brought my hand up to his cheeks and caressed it. I rubbed my thumb along his cheekbone. I kissed his lips and then nudged my face into his chest again.

He sighed and pulled me closer. His hand came up and started rubbing my back in circles. "Morning baby." He kissed the top of my head and hugged me closer until I could barely breath. I brought my face up to his and our lips connected once again. This was perfect. I noticed we were still naked from last night and I felt his chest rumble in a low chuckle. "Guess what?" He said looking at me. I hummed in a response. "We're late." I giggled and snuggled closer to him. "Just a few more mintues then we can start rushing around like chickens with our heads cut off." He laughed and kissed my lips once more.

Yup, perfect.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagines #supernatural one shots #Misha Collins #misha x reader #mishacollins #fanfiction #fanfic #SPN #SPN FANDOM #spn fanfic #spn imagine #spn one shot

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