#i am so happy that all the employees even got their jobs back

[mlgneverdies]

Mr. President, Hi-Fi Rush just got brought back from the grave

[fatehbaz]

patience being tested. being forced by a bizarre unfortunate situation to adhere to university requirement technicality by taking this simple basic elementary "introduction to environmental history" class.

this class is from facilitators/program which do, like, "history of the American frontier" or "history of fishing and hunting" and still basically subscribe to that old-school twentieth-century idealization and celebration of characters like Teddy Roosevelt and reverence for a mythical arc-of-history-bent-towards-justice narrative of the often-clumsy but ultimately-benevolent US federal government and its mission to "save nature" through the miracle of "sustained yield," while heroic federal land management agencies and "heritage" institutions lead to way, staffed by exceptional individuals (appeals to nostalgia for the frontier and an imagined landscape of the American West; ego-stroking appeals to flattering self-image that center the environmentalist or academic). where they invoke, y'know, ideas like "ecology is important because don't you enjoy cross-country skiing in The Woods with your niece and nephew? don't you like hunting and fishing?" which makes it feel like a time capsule of appeals and discourses from the 1970s. and it invokes concept of "untouched wilderness" (while eliding scale of historical Indigenous environmental relationships and current ongoing colonial violence/extractivism). but just ever-so-slightly updated with a little bit of chic twenty-first-century flair like a superficial land acknowledgement or a reference to "labor histories" or "history from below," which is extra aggravating when the old ideologies/institutions are still in power but they're muddying the water and diluting the language/frameworks (it's been strange, watching words like "multispecies" and "Anthropocene" over the years slowly but surely show-up on the posters, fliers, course descriptions, by now even appearing adjacent to the agri-business and resource extraction feeder programs, like a recuperation or appropriation.) even from a humanities angle, it's still, they're talking at me like "You probably didn't know this, but environmental history is actually pretty entangled with political and social events. In fact, we can synthesize sources and glean environmental info from wacky places like workers' rolls in factories, ship's logs, and poetry from the era." and i'm nodding like YEP.

the first homework assignment is respond to this: "Define and describe 'the Anthropocene'. Do you think 'the Anthropocene' is a useful concept? Why or why not?" Respond in 300 words.

so for fun, right now in class, going to see how fast i can pull up discussion of Anthropocene-as-concept solely from my old posts on this microblogging site.

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ok, found some

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I think that the danger in any universal narrative or epoch or principle is exactly that it can itself become a colonizing force. [...] I’m suspicious of the Anthropocene as concept for the very reason that it subsumes so many peoples, nations, histories, geographies, political orders. For that reason, I think ideas like the Anthropocene can be a useful short-hand for a cluster of tangible things going on with the Earth at the moment, but we have to be very careful about how fluid and dynamic ideas become concretized into hegemonic principles in the hands of researchers, policymakers, and politicians. There’s so much diversity in histories and experiences and environmental realities even between relatively linked geographies here in Canada [...]. Imagine what happens when we try to do that on a global scale - and a lot of euro-western Anthropocene, climate change and resilience research risks doing that - eliding local specificities and appropriating knowledge to serve a broader euro-western narrative without attending to the inherent colonial and imperial realities of science and policy processes, or even attending to the ways that colonial capitalist expansion has created these environmental crises to begin with. While we, as a collective humanity, are struggling with the realities of the Anthropocene, it is dangerous to erase the specific histories, power-relations, political orders that created the crisis to begin with. So, I’m glad that a robust critique of the Anthropocene as a concept is emerging.

Text by: Words of Zoe Todd, as interviewed and transcribed by Caroline Picard. “The Future is Elastic (But it Depends): An Interview with Zoe Todd.” 23 August 2016.

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The Great Acceleration is the latest in a series of human-driven planetary changes that constitute what a rising chorus of scientists, social scientists, and humanists have labeled the Anthropocene - a new Age of Humans. [...] But what the Anthropocene label masks, and what the litany of graphs documenting the Great Acceleration hide, is a history of racial oppression and violence, along with wealth inequality, that has built and sustained engines of economic growth and consumption over the last four centuries. [...] The plantation, Sidney Mintz long ago observed, was a “synthesis of field and factory,” an agro-industrial system of enterprise [...]. Plantation legacies, along with accompanying strategies of survival and resistance, dwell in the racialized geographies of the United States’ and Brazil’s prison systems. They surface in the inequitable toxic burdens experienced by impoverished communities of color in places like Cancer Alley, an industrial corridor of petrochemical plants running along the Mississippi River from New Orleans to Baton Rouge, where cotton was once king. And they appear in patterns of foreign direct investment and debt servitude that structure many land deals in the Caribbean, Brazil, and sub-Saharan Africa [...]. [C]limatologists and global change scientists from the University of London, propose instead 1610 as a date for the golden spike of the Anthropocene. The date marked a detectable global dip in carbon dioxide concentrations, precipitated, they argue, by the death of nearly 50 million indigenous human inhabitants [...]. The degradation of soils in the tobacco and cotton-growing regions in the American South, or in the sugarcane growing fields of many Caribbean islands, for example, was a consequence of an economic and social system that inflicted violence upon the land and the people enslaved to work it. Such violent histories are not so readily evident in genealogies that date the Anthropocene’s emergence to the Neolithic Revolution 12,000 years ago, the onset of Europe’s industrial revolution circa 1800, or the Trinity nuclear test of 1945. Sugarcane plantations were already prevalent throughout the Mediterranean basin during the late middle ages. But it was during the early modern era, and specifically in the Caribbean, where the intersection of emerging proto-capitalist economic models based on migratory forced labor (first indentured servitude, and later slavery), intensive land usage, globalized commerce, and colonial regimes sustained on the basis of relentless racialized violence, gave rise to the transformative models of plantations that reshaped the lives and livelihoods of human and non-human beings on a planetary scale. [...] We might, following the lead of science studies scholar Donna Haraway and anthropologist Anna Tsing, more aptly designate this era the Plantationocene. [...] It is also an invitation to see, in the words of geographer Laura Pulido, “the Anthropocene as a racial process,” one that has and will continue to produce “racially uneven vulnerability and death." [...] And how have such material transformations sustained global flows of knowledge and capital that continue to reproduce the plantation in enduring ways?

Text by: Sophie Sapp Moore, Monique Allewaert, Pablo F. Gomez, and Gregg Mitman. "Plantation Legacies." Edge Effects. 22 January 2019. Updated 15 May 2021. [Bold emphasis added by me.]

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Geologists and other scientists will fight over [the definition of the beginning start-date of the Anthropocene] in scientific language, seeking traces of carbon dioxide that index the worst offenses of European empire which rent and violated the flesh, bodies, and governance structures of Indigenous and other sovereign peoples in the name of gold, lumber, trade, land, and power. [...] The stories we tell about the origins of the Anthropocene implicate how we understand the relations we have with our surrounds. In other words, the naming of the Anthropocene epoch and its start date have implications not just for how we understand the world, but this understanding will have material consequences, consequences that affect body and land.

Text by: Heather Davis and Zoe Todd. On the Importance of a Date, or Decolonizing the Anthropocene. ACME An International Journal for Critical Geographies. December 2017. [Bold emphasis added by me.]

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From Aime and Suzanne Cesaire, C. L. R. James, Claudia Jones, Eduoard Glissant, through Sylvia Wynter, Christina Sharpe, and so many others, critical anticolonial and race theory has been written from the specific histories that marked the Black Atlantic. [...] Glissant also reminds us, secondly, of how cunning the absorptive powers of [...] liberal capitalism are - how quickly specific relations are remade as relations-erasing universal abstractions. [...] This absorptive, relations-erasing universalism is especially apparent in some contemporary discourses of […] liberalism and climate collapse - what some call the Anthropocene - especially those that anchor the crisis in a general Human calamity which, as Sylvia Wynter has noted, is merely the name of an overdetermined and specific [White] European man. […] [T]he condition of creating this new common European world was the destruction of a multitude of existing black and brown worlds. The tsunami of colonialism was not seen as affecting humanity, but [...] these specific people. They were specific - what happened to them may have been necessary, regrettable, intentional, accidental - but it is always them. It is only when these ancestral histories became present for some, for those who had long benefitted from the dispossession [...], that suddenly the problem is all of us, as human catastrophe.

Text by: Elizabeth Povinelli. “The Ancestral Present of Oceanic Illusions: Connected and Differentiated in Late Toxic Liberalism.” e-flux Journal Issue #112. October 2020.

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The narrative arc [of White "liberal humanism"] [...] is often told as a kind of European coming-of-age story. […] The Anthropocene discourse follows the same coming-of-age [...] script, searching for a material origin story that would explain the newly identified trajectory of the Anthropos […]. Sylvia Wynter, W.E.B. DuBois, and Achille Mbembe all showed how that genealogy of [White subjecthood] was [...] articulated through sixteenth- through nineteenth-century [historiographies and discourses] in the context of colonialism, [...] as well as forming the material praxis of their rearrangement (through mining, ecological rearrangements and extractions, and forms of geologic displacements such as plantations, dams, fertilizers, crops, and introduction of “alien” animals). […] As Wynter (2000) commented, “The degradation of concrete humans, that was/is the price of empire, of the kind of [Eurocentric epistemology] that underlies it” (154).

Text by: Kathryn Yusoff. “The Inhumanities.” Annals of the American Association of Geographers, Volume 11, Issue 3. November 2020.

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As Yarimar Bonilla suggests in regard to post-Irma-and-Maria Puerto Rico, “vulnerability is not simply a product of natural conditions; it is a political state and a colonial condition.” Many in the Caribbean therefore speak about the coloniality of disaster, and the unnaturalness of these “natural�� disasters [...]. Others describe this temporality by shifting [...] toward an idea of the Plantationocene [...]. As Moore and her colleagues write, “Plantation worlds, both past and present, offer a powerful reminder that environmental problems cannot be decoupled from histories of colonialism, capitalism, and racism that have made some human beings more vulnerable [...].” [W]e see that contemporary uneven socioecologies associated with the rise of the industrial world ["the Anthropocene"] are based [...] also on the racialized denial and foreshortening of life for the sacrificial majority of black, brown, and Indigenous people and their relegation to the “sacrifice zones” of extractive industry. [...] [A]ny appropriate response to the contemporary climate emergency must first appreciate its foundations in the past history of the violent, coercive, transatlantic system of plantation slavery; in the present global uneven development, antiblackness, and border regimes that shape human vulnerability [...] that continues to influence who has access to resources, safety, and preferable ecologies [...] and who will be relegated to the “plantation archipelagoes” (as Sylvia Wynter called them) [...].

Text by: Mimi Sheller. “Thinking Beyond Coloniality: Toward Radical Caribbean Futures.” Small Axe (2021), 25 (2 (65)), pages 169-170. Published 1 July 2021. [Bold emphasis added by me.]

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Indigenous genocide and removal from land and enslavement are prerequisites for power becoming operationalized in premodernity [...]; it was/is a means to operationalize extraction (therefore race should be considered as foundational rather than as periphery to the production of those structures and of global space). [...] Wynter suggests that we […] consider 1452 as the beginning of the New World, as African slaves are put to work on the first plantations on the Portuguese island of Madeira, initiating the “sugar-slave” complex - a massive replantation of ecologies and forced relocation of people […]. Wynter argues that the invention of the figure of Man in 1492 as the Portuguese [and Spanish] travel to the Americas instigates at the same time “a refiguring of humanness” in the idea of race. [...] The natal moment of the 1800 Industrial Revolution, […] [apparently] locates Anthropocene origination in […] the "new" metabolisms of technology and matter enabled by the combination of fossil fuels, new engines, and the world as market. […] The racialization of epistemologies of life and nonlife is important to note here […]. While [this industrialization in the nineteenth century] […] undoubtedly transformed the atmosphere with […] coal, the creation of another kind of weather had already established its salient forms in the mine and on the plantation. Paying attention to the prehistory of capital and its bodily labor, both within coal cultures and on plantations that literally put “sugar in the bowl” (as Nina Simone sings) […]. The new modes of material accumulation and production in the Industrial Revolution are relational to and dependent on their preproductive forms in slavery […]. In 1833, Parliament finally abolished slavery in the British Caribbean, and the taxpayer payout of ��20 million in “compensation” [paid by the government to slave owners for their lost "property"] built the material, geophysical (railways, mines, factories), and imperial infrastructures of Britain and its colonial enterprises and empire. [...] A significant proportion of funds were invested in the railway system connecting London and Birmingham (home of cotton production and […] manufacturing for plantations), Cambridge and Oxford, and Wales and the Midlands (for coal). Insurance companies flourished [...]. The slave-sugar-coal nexus both substantially enriched Britain and made it possible for it to transition into a colonial industrialized power […]. The slave trade […] fashioned the economic conditions (and institutions, such as the insurance and finance industries) for industrialization.

Text by: Kathryn Yusoff. "White Utopia/Black Inferno: Life on a Geologic Spike". e-flux Journal Issue #97. February 2019. [Bold emphasis added by me.]

[gucciwins]

Y/N just wants Harry to like her.

Word count: 5964

A/N: Friends!!!!! I am sorry to have disappeared but I am back. Yes, I am aware this is a Halloween/October story but you're getting it now mid November (that has been going by fast). I won't work on any holiday stories because I have no idea what to write. So if you have an idea and want me to write it feel free to shoot me an ask.

Now happy reading! I love you

+

Many people go to work ready to return home, but not Y/N. No, she walks in every day with a smile and a pep in her step. She greets her coworkers by name and occasionally brings baked goods she knows everyone will enjoy. Y/N loves her job, and she’s happy to go every day.

Y/N went from working in a job she hated because it was filled with men constantly belittling her and gaslighting her that she was doing her job wrong when she was actually excelling. It all got to be too much, and Y/N decided to quit. Thank goodness she did because soon into her job search, she received an email from Carla Crain asking her if she’d be interested in joining her company. Y/N went to the interview, and after basically being pitched her dream job, she accepted and entered as head engineer. 

She’d be lying if she wasn’t nervous starting, but the people Carla had hired all shared the same values on work and life. Y/N knew she’d be in safe hands. The company is small but slowly growing. It allows for every employee to get to know each other and everyone to remember that together, they can be successful. Y/N had been at the job for two years and, with time, brought new coworkers. 

There is Estrella, who loves to talk to you about astrology, ironically enough. She states that the invisible string theory is real and that if everyone tracked it, they would notice just how small the world is. 

Carmy has a tough exterior, but once anyone gets him talking, he never stops. He loves chatting about his family and his pet Pitbull named Daisy. 

Maeve is petite, and every other month comes in with a new color in their hair. Y/N enjoys it when everyone in the office places bets on what it will be. 

Tatum is from Scotland and loves to remind everyone when they all go out for drinks on the weekend. 

Chessy is the only one who works remotely, but when she comes in, she is always laughing in the office. They also all get a basket of fresh fruit and vegetables from her garden. 

Overall, Y/N knows she had the best coworkers and wouldn’t change her job for the world, but as their company grows, so does the need in their team. The newest hire is Harry Styles, who has come in as a computer technician to help develop their website and also help with any internal security. Honestly, all she knew was that it was a complex job. 

Harry was on the quiet side. She tried to start conversations with him, but he always seemed to brush her off. At first, Y/N wondered if she should take it personally but soon learned he did that to everyone. Even though he didn’t open up to them, they still invited Harry to join them. 

The thing was, he rejected all their dinners. Y/N loved going to a Korean BBQ Maeve introduced them to, and Harry claimed not to eat meat (not that she didn’t think it wasn’t true. Chessy was vegetarian, after all.) They would go to a bar and share a few drinks when they knew they would all be having a long weekend off. Harry always claimed he had an early morning. It didn't matter if they offered to meet earlier. Y/N’s favorite nights were trivia nights that happened at a local brewery. Y/N was a beat, especially in history. Harry declined, and this one hurt her the most.

 Everyone would ask Harry to join. 

Karaoke. Can’t hold a tune.

Bowling. Too loud. 

It seems there was an excuse for everything.

Everyone began to stop inviting him out, and while Y/N didn’t enjoy being told no, she would send notes to the office with the time and place of what they would be doing. She’d always keep an eye on the door, but Y/N went home disappointed each time.

The thing was, Y/N was determined to make a friend out of Harry. She soon learned large public settings must be overwhelming for him and decided to find a new way to approach him. Everyone took lunch at the same time in the office except for Harry. Sometimes, they all ate at the sub shop across the street. Most times, Y/N brought food from home, and she cooked. While she liked eating out, Y/N preferred a home-cooked meal. She caught Harry taking his lunch half an hour later than her and used that to her advantage. 

They had a conference that always remained empty as everyone preferred the main lounge. Harry went in there every day for his lunch hour. One day, Y/N walks in, smiles at him, and sits as far away as she can. She made sure to only be there for ten minutes. The next day, she stayed for twenty and wished him a nice lunch when she left.  

Slowly, Harry begins to spare her glances, but Y/N keeps to herself until the day she sits across from him. 

“Hi, Harry. Is it okay for me to sit here?” 

No answer. 

“I’m going to take that as a yes.” 

He fidgets with his fork. 

“I saw a lime bike out front. Did you ride that today?” 

Harry looks at her briefly before staring back at his plate. 

“I’ve always wanted to try one, but I’m honestly scared of being hit by a car. Chessy lets me ride hers when I go down to visit her. She’s got beautiful trails. You’d probably enjoy it.” 

Y/N thinks that’s enough for today and excuses herself. She doesn’t realize Harry noticed she didn’t take a bite of her lunch. When she goes back to her desk after using the restroom, she finds three chocolate chip cookies sitting on her desk. Y/N rushes to try one, doesn’t even think of who delivered them or that a green-eyed man was standing right outside waiting to hear her reaction. 

With time, it seems Harry is coming to appreciate Y/N’s presence. He has never expressed it, but she knows because he nods when he agrees to something she says or tightens the hold on his fork when Y/N shares something upsetting. Y/N had not gotten more than two words out of him. At this point, Y/N felt like Harry knew everything about her; all she knew was that he had the most beautiful eyes, and his hair always looked soft. 

One day, after many lunches together, she finds Harry reading a book. Y/N knows he might want quiet, but her curiosity gets the best of her. 

“Any good?”

Harry looks up and grimaces. “Think it’s really boring.” 

Y/N laughs because she wasn’t expecting that response. “Then put it down.” 

He shakes his head. “Don’t like not knowing the ending.”

Y/N shrugs, “if you don’t like a book, I wouldn’t put myself through the torture of it all. Skip to the end if you're curious.” She understands she spoke too much and excuses herself. 

The next day, Harry is sitting in his usual spot, but this time, a new book is in his hand. Y/N bites back a smile. 

“What’s this one about?”

“My sister recommended it,” he defends. 

Y/N isn’t halted by his harsh tone. “What’s it about?” 

“Well, it’s Pride and Prejudice.” He shows her the book cover. 

“Like the movie?” Y/N asks.

Harry laughs, and Y/N feels successful. His laughter rings in her ears. It’s a lovely sound, and she wishes to hear it more. “Yeah…I like the movie.” 

“Me too,” she gushes. “Do you think I’d like the book?”

He frowns, “if you like Jane Austen.” 

“Might have to pick it up next time I’m in the shops.”

+

Their interactions are solely during their lunches but sometimes spills out during work. Y/N seemed to have an issue with her computer and radioed IT. She needed to submit her document, but her desktop appeared to freeze whenever she opened a new file. Harry knocked on her door, and she welcomed him in. Y/N explained the issue, and Harry was quick to get to work. It was only a few minutes when she noticed that her document was open and her computer wasn’t having a meltdown.

“Thank you so much, Harry!” Y/N cheers, knowing he saved her. 

Harry shrugs because it’s his job. “You have a nice photo.” He’s pointing to her picture frame on her desk. It’s a picture of her and a dog in Iceland at the end of her hike. It was taken back when she was nineteen years old. 

“Thank you. I took that on my first solo trip.” She bites her lip, hoping Harry takes the bait. 

“Where to?” He asks curiously. 

She silently cheers, “Iceland.”

“Is that your dog?” 

“I actually found him mid-hike and took him back with me. I hoped to see his owner on the trail, but there was no luck. He didn’t even seem worried. Once I returned to the car park, his owner was there. After that hike, I decided I liked the company of a dog and returned home to adopt Tutter, a Jack Russel Terrier who loves to play fetch.”

“Why isn’t Tutter on your desk?” 

Y/N feels her face flush, “now, don’t be mean. I love my son, but that trip taught me I can do anything I set my mind to, whether alone or with company.”

Harry gives her the slightest smile. “I-I learned Italian because I always dreamed of having an Italian home.”

Y/N’s eyes brighten. Harry is opening up to her, and instead of pushing, she offers more of herself. “I’ve dreamed of visiting. The Amalfi coast is my dream to swim in. Silly, I know,” she brushes off, trying to downplay her excitement. 

Harry doesn’t let her. “You’ll make it.”

He finally excuses himself. Y/N is happy for the rest of the day because she realizes Harry is allowing her in.

+

September means the preparations for Halloween have begun. It starts with little things, from coasters and mugs to the occasional treat. One day, a tiny spider sits on his desk for a second. Harry believed it was real until it began to glow purple. Harry kept it on his desk next to his sticky notes. He doesn't do anything about it; there’s no need. By the second week, the office is entirely decorated. Harry admits a few decorations have scared him, especially the skeleton in the corner of the restroom.

It’s a quiet day when he’s walking by the break room on his way to the secluded office to have lunch when he hears people talking. Harry pauses because he hears Y/N’s voice mixed in with everyone else. 

“But it seems like he doesn’t like us,” Harry hears quietly. 

“It’s hard,” Y/N defends. “You’re all extroverts. It can be overwhelming.” 

Harry knows she’s trying for them to understand.

“But Carla is all about unity in the office. This is a concern.”

“It’s not, Carmy.” Y/N shuts him down, clearly upset she had to defend him.

Harry decides he’s heard enough and decides to eat lunch alone in his car. He’s thankful it was a sandwich and nothing he had to heat up. For the entire lunch and the rest of the day, all he thinks about are the words of his coworkers. 

Y/N looked for Harry, excited to talk about a book she started, but Harry was nowhere to be found. She wouldn’t have been concerned, but it’s clear no one saw him since before lunch. She wishes Harry could confide in her even if a fraction of what she shares with him/ 

The next day, everyone walks into the office at their usual time, everyone making their rounds together to the break room to prepare their coffees and store their lunch in the fridge. When Y/N walks in, she sees her coworkers huddled around the table and peeks around them to see what has captured their attention. There on the table is a box of Halloween cookies from a bakery uptown with a note attached. 

Enjoy - HS

Y/N lets a smile take over her face. She knew Harry cared about them but understood why he finally did something. She tells her coworkers they owe him an apology, and they all agree. Y/N makes sure to head to Harry’s office and thank him for the cookies. Harry tells her it’s nothing. She bounces away to her office, where Estrella, Carmy, Maeve, and Tatum are standing outside her door. 

“Can you come with us? Feel like he likes you.” Tatum tells her. 

Y/N sighs and tells them to follow her. Once again, she knocks on his door, and they all file in when he welcomes her in. Harry looks at them confused. 

“Uh, is there an issue?” Harry asks, concerned. 

Carmy starts, “we want to apologize if you overheard us yesterday.” 

“Right,” Harry sighs, knowing it might be a good time to share with them. If he trusted Y/N and she trusted them, he knew he could also start to. 

“It was wrong of us,” Maeve continues. “Y/N raves about how smart and nice you are, but we don’t get to see that. We’re sorry.” 

Everyone else repeats the sentiment while Harry looks at Y/N, who offers him an encouraging smile. She must know his anxiety is through the roof. 

Harry takes a deep breath, “right, uh.” He looks down at his shoes, untied lace on his black Adidas. “I struggle with social anxiety and new environments. It’s better than when I was a kid, but it’s easy to get overwhelmed even more when being the new guy.” 

“No worries. We get that,” Tatum expresses. “Estrella gets bad migraines.” 

“Don’t air other people’s personal stuff,” Y/N reminds them. 

“We’re sorry,” they offered one last time. “Thanks for the cookies.” 

After that, they hurried out while Y/N stayed behind. 

“I wanted to apologize,” he begins.

“You don’t–” Harry cuts her off. “You’ve made me feel comfortable.”

Y/N sighs, letting her shoulders drop. “Not enough, it seems.” 

“It can just be too much sometimes.”

“I-I get panic attacks.” Y/N shares, surprising herself. “When I overwhelm myself, it can happen. It’s uncommon and has not happened at work, but I understand.” 

“Thank you for sharing,” Harry tells her honestly. “Lunch?” 

“See you in a bit then.”

+

Through September, Y/N and Harry have lunch together every day. They read together, Harry more into classic literature, and Y/N loving to devour a juicy romance that has her pausing every few minutes, trying her best not to scream because the love interest brushed hands. Some days, Y/N will do a sudoku game while Harry does the daily crossword. Y/N likes to solve the Wordle of the day and most times asks Harry for help if she fears she might not get it. Some days, Y/N brings in her laptop during lunch because she is behind and needs to catch up. Harry reminds her to relax. He knows it’s easier said than done, so he tells her about the book he’s reading or asks about her dog and the snacks he eats. 

Before she knows if they’ve made it to October. One of the best months of the year. Y/N loves planning events, and this is one she wishes Harry would say yes to. She knocks on his office door, and Harry freezes, staring at his computer screen. He glances at the calendar; it's the first Monday of the month, and Harry knows they’ve planned a fun event. 

Harry is practicing his excuse when Y/N walks in with a bright smile, wearing a “Great Pumpkin” shirt with Snoopy and Charlie Brown. She has told him it’s her favorite movie to watch during the month and “The Conjuring” Harry wasn’t sure how the sweetest girl he knew could handle a horror film like that. He had told her she was fearless.

“Hi, Y/N, pretty shirt.” 

Y/N looks down at it as if she had forgotten what she was wearing. She beams at his compliment. “Thank you, Harry!” 

Harry asks how her day is going and shares how there was traffic on the way down and how she didn’t have time to stop by her favorite coffee shop because there was a line out the door. “Pumpkin spice isn’t even that good, H. I mean, it’s okay, but I wanted my coffee.”

He laughs at her pouting and promises to make her one during lunch. She perks up at his mention of their shared time together. 

“Speaking of our time together. We plan to go to a haunted pumpkin patch in the next town over if you want to join us. It’s two weeks from now, so it's the 21st.” Harry could hear the excitement in her voice and didn’t think he could say no to her.

“Everyone is going?”

“We invited everyone, but only Carmy, Estella, Maeve, Tatum, and myself are going. Carla was not for it. Dan is warming up to us but still says no. Though he did agree for trivia next week.”

Before he can stop himself, he says, “yes.”

“You will?” Y/N answers surprised. 

“Mhm…uh, it sounds like fun,” he says unconvincingly.

Y/N’s smile brightens, “I’m not hung on haunts, but they’ve got amazing apple cider you’ve got to try with me.” 

“Happy to join,” he tells her honestly. “Let me know the ticket cost or if we need to purchase our own.”

She nods eagerly. It’s clear Harry has just made her day. 

+

The day comes faster than he’s ready, and while a part of him is excited, Harry feels his nerves will get the best of him. Y/N had told them no one was dressing up in costume and even went as far as to send him a photo of her outfit to assure him she wasn’t playing a joke with him. She was wearing bell bottoms with a Mickey Mouse in a pumpkin shirt. She told him it was his favorite to wear each year. 

Harry knew it would be cold, so he wore a simple Halloween shirt in his closet and loose-fitting jeans. His jacket in his car he knew would keep him warm throughout the night. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone (only Y/N) but also wanted to look nice outside of the office for once. When Harry parked, Y/N told him she’d wait by the entrance for him, and he couldn’t miss her as she had a cute pumpkin headband on.

It seemed Y/N spotted him, too, because she rushed towards him. “Hi, Harry,” she greeted with a cheery smile.

“Hi, you look lovely,” he offered her a small compliment that made his hands sweat.

“You’re too sweet. Come on, we were waiting on you.” She grabs his hand and pulls him along to where everyone else is. 

Everyone offers their greeting, and he receives a few compliments on his tame outfit. It’s an old Halloween shirt he got at a vintage shop in New Orleans five years ago. His sister went on a trip and asked him to join. Harry could never say no to her. 

Harry notices everyone begins to drift off into conversations, but Y/N stays by his side. He takes the time to admire her as she looks around at all the decorations. There are a lot of people, but it seems they are heading to the pumpkin patch. There are stalls selling sweet treats, and he keeps in mind to buy Y/N a cider, remembering she mentioned loving it. Harry has always thought being in a relationship to be intimidating. He loves love but struggles to put himself out there, to allow someone else to get to know him, but here is Y/N, who managed to worm her way into his life, knocking down all of his walls. 

Harry likes Y/N.

It’s something he took a long time to figure out, but when he realized the excitement of seeing her each morning, he looked forward to it. He let it consume him, but he had no idea if she could feel the same way. 

“Did you drive here, Harry?” Y/N asks, breaking their silence. 

“I did,” he answers. 

“Do you think you could maybe take me home?” She brushes her hair out of her face. “I came with Tatum, but she’s been wanting to take the time to connect with Estella, if you know what I mean,” Y/N gestures to them kissing on hay bales. 

Harry had no idea that there were feelings between them. “I can do that, Y/N.” 

“Great!” She cheers gratefully. “I owe you an apple cider, then.” 

Y/N eagerly walks them to the stand, and before she can pay for both, Harry slips the kind older lady a twenty walking away with their drinks. Y/N stays behind, shocked, but quickly catches up, pouting at Harry. “Harry, I was going to pay.”

He shook his head, “my mum would have my head if I let you pay.”

Y/N bends her head, careful to take a sip of the warm drink. “Well, thank you.”

Maeve bounces over to them. “Hi beauties, we’re ready to start if you all are.” 

Harry eyes Y/N, waiting to see her response. Y/N offers her friend a large grin, and Harry agrees he’s ready. He throws away their ups, and once he finds Y/N with the group, he slithers to stand behind her. Y/N offers him a tense smile as the group tries to decide who will lead. 

“I can go in front,” Harry offers, sensing no one wanting to make the first move. Everyone thanks him and heads to the first maze. Y/N informs him it’s once based on the catacombs in France. 

“There’s a movie based on the catacombs,” Y/N shares as they walk together.

“As Above So Below,” Harry says. “It spooked me.” 

“You’ve seen it,” she laughs, holding onto his arm for a second, unable to contain her excitement. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“It’s a good one,” he agrees. 

They fall into silence as the chatter of their coworker fills the air. Harry sees Y/N get fidgety, but she’s smiling as she leads the way to the short line. “I’m actually really nervous,” she tells Harry. 

“We’ll be fine. I got you,” he assures Y/N.

Harry extends his hand, and she accepts it. He intertwines their fingers and pulls her along as the line moves slowly. Y/N does her best not to think about the feeling of his hand, but it fits perfectly between hers. She feels her hand begin to sweat and wants to pull it away, but Harry has a firm grip on her. 

“Is it okay?” Harry nods, gesturing to their hands. 

“Safe, uh, I feel safe.”

The worker asks how many, and Y/N peeks behind Harry to tell her six. Harry is grateful Y/N knows when to take charge because while he can lead a scary maze and knows everyone is dressed in costumes, he still feels nervous speaking to strangers. Harry squeezes her hand once in thanks. She gives him two quick squeezes in return.

Harry guides them in. Y/N lets go of his hand to hide behind Harry, her hands on his shoulder as she peeks behind him. There is a group ahead where she can hear the people in front screaming, which allows her to prepare for the scare, if that is even possible. 

Her eyes widen in amazement as she takes in the darkness of the building. Everything is covered in black cloth. She can see the spots where actors will jump out. Y/N mumbles an apology to Harry for holding on to him tight. Estella is behind her, screaming at everything that moves. Harry steps through the curtain, and she feels her hold on him loosen. As she is stepping closer to reach him, a man screams in her face, making her rush forward and propel Harry into a wall. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Y/N apologized repeatedly as Harry rushed them to finish the maze. She felt her heartbeat in her throat and knew she needed to calm down. One look at Harry, and he rushed her to a dark corner, not concerned about their friends. 

“Y/N? I’m okay. You’re okay.” Harry tried assuring her.

She repeated it in her head. They were okay. They got out of the dumb maze, and Harry wasn’t hurt. It took her a few minutes to realize she had a panic attack. Y/N had not even felt it coming and didn’t think a haunted house would trip her into one, but with all the overthinking she had been doing, it made sense it led to this.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Y/N bashfully looks away from him. She can’t believe she embarrassed herself in front of him like this. 

“No apologies,” he brushes her off and doesn’t ask her any questions, only to ensure she is okay. 

They rejoin the group after ten minutes by the looks of everyone's sympathetic smiles. She knows they saw her freak out, but they’re her friends. She knows she’s in safe hands with everyone, especially Harry.

“What’s the next maze?” Y/N asks cheerfully. 

And so they continue on. 

The next maze is much smoother than the first. Carmy leads, tucking Harry and Y/N in the middle with Tatum and Estella in the back. That order seems to comfort Y/N for the next few mazes. Each worker makes her scream but then falls into giggles when Harry traces comforting shapes on her hand. It takes her mind off these scarers trying to get her to scream and instead focus on the gentle touches of her crush. 

While doing the mazes is fun, Y/N is soaking up talking to Harry in line. They’re in a new environment where they do not need to discuss work. She feels free to ask him anything, but sometimes she is unsure where to start. Y/N doesn’t know if she wants to hear about his weekend plans or ask him about his favorite movie or who his favorite Muppet character is? 

Talking to Maeve and everyone else is easy because she’s gone out with them. She knows them personally, but with Harry, he always kept that guard up, and now she’s unsure what to do if he decides to keep it up. 

To her surprise, Harry always starts the conversation with her. Harry shares about a new show he started watching and how it makes him anxious for the main character when they do something out of character. When he asks Y/N if there is a show she recommends, her mind goes blank, and the first thing that comes to mind is “Fleabag.” 

“It’s the saddest but most comforting show I have ever seen,” Y/N gushes. 

“With Phoebe Waller-Bridge?” 

“Mhmm…the second season has Andrew Scott. Irish treasure.” 

“Paul Mescal,” he adds. 

“Hozier.” 

“Saoirse Ronan,” they say in unison before falling into fits of giggles. 

“You’ve got taste, Styles.” 

“As do you.” 

The line moves, and they change conversations to talk about the best musicals they’ve seen. Y/N swears “Waitress” is the best thing created, but Harry tells her “Moulin Rouge” is his favorite. Y/N loves how easily the conversation with Harry seems to flow. He feels like a long-lost friend. Someone who once was in her life has now found his way back to her. 

Not only is he getting along with her, but everyone is getting to see the Harry she had come to know. The one who makes cheesy jokes and loves to hear every detail of the story being told. It turns out he and Maeve frequent the same record store. There’s a Stevie Nicks vinyl Harry is on the hunt for, and Maeve promised to keep an eye out for him. Tatum learns Harry can play guitar and asks him to show them sometime. Something he agreed to with pink cheeks. Y/N knew tonight was a big step for Harry, and she was glad everyone made him feel comfortable.

As the night was coming to an end, the maze lines got shorter, and the more Y/N screamed. It made her laugh right after, but still not her favorite part of the night. Before the cold can settle in, they all call it a midnight night. Tatum and Estella head out hand in hand. Y/N can’t wait for the details of that on Monday. Carmy is telling Harry a story, so Maeve uses the opportunity to remind Y/N to make a move.

“It’s now or never, girlfriend.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes, “please don’t pressure me on this.” 

“Y/N that man is, head over heels for you. If I was antisocial this is not an event I would ever do. Unless someone I fancied asked.” 

Y/N toes her food in the sand and, in a low voice, asks, “do you really think he likes me?” 

Maeve smiles, brushing Y/N’s hair out of her eyes. “That man lit up every time your eyes were on him. I don’t know Harry as well as you do, but I can notice a guy with a crush from miles away. Trust me on this.” 

Y/N backs down, relaxing, “okay.” 

“Good. Now text me when you get home. Carmy’s got me.” Maeve gives her a tight hug and then pulls Carmy away from Harry. 

He walks over to her with a shy smile on his face. “Have a good time?” 

“The best,” she tells him. “Though I might need another apple cider. Think my heart needs it.”

“By all means, lead the way.” 

After getting one last warm apple cider, they reach Harry’s car. It’s an electric car because he’s conscious of his environmental impact and knows one person can go a long way into the future. Harry opens Y/N’s car door and waits until he sees her seated and buckled to close her door. As he gets ready to drive off, he turns on the heater, knowing if he’s cold, Y/N must be too. 

The car ride starts off quietly, Y/N guiding him every so often when to make a turn. Y/N sees her favorite coffee shop and knows she is almost home. “That was fun,” Harry starts. “I’m happy I went.” 

“Mhmm…it was a good time. Glad you joined us,” she tells him honestly. 

Harry notices at a red light that she’s fidgeting with her hands and thinks he might still be cold. “Do you need me to turn up the heater?” 

Y/N shakes her head, “no, sorry, I’m fine.” 

Harry drives down a few more streets when Y/N tells him to turn left. “It’s the third one on the right.” 

He parks right outside her driveway. From here, he can see her decorations hung up. It’s decorated charmingly. It’s clear no scaring would happen here. She’s got two pumpkins outside her door. One has stars carved all around; the other is a cat on a witch’s broom. Bat lights are hanging up the railing of the steps. She even has a few inflatables. His favorite has to be the one of Mickey Mouse as a vampire.

“Thank you for driving me home. I appreciated it.” She smiles at him, and he returns it. Harry gets out of the car and opens her door. 

“Let me walk you up.” 

Y/N feels her cheeks burn and leads the way. 

“We’re planning trivia soon,” Y/N says, testing the waters. 

“Hmm…only if you’re on my team.” 

“We would all be on the same team,” his flirting going over her head.

Harry’s face turns pink, “uh, right.” 

She laughs, placing her hand on his bicep. “Only joking.”

Y/N pulls him in, whispering good night, except when she pulls away, she locks eyes with his emerald eyes, and it’s like she’s in a trance. She feels herself leaning in closer, and before she knows it, Y/N presses her lips to Harry in an airy kiss.

She pulls back, shocked. “Sorry,” she breathed out. “I-I should have asked.” 

“Ask me,” he pleads. 

“What?” Y/N isn’t sure if she heard him correctly. 

Harry doesn’t care anymore. He raises his hand to rest on her cheeks. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” 

She feels how close he is. She can feel his breath mixing with hers. “Yes.” 

When their lips meet, Y/N swears she feels time stop. Harry is starting slow as he begins to learn what she likes.  Y/N places a hand on his chest, needing to have a secure hold as she feels him take her breath away. Her emotions are all over the place. His lips are smooth as they move against hers in a dance that feels like they’ve done a hundred times before. Harry deepens the kiss, pushing her up against the door, making Y/N grab a fistful of his shirt, not wanting him to pull away. Y/N lets herself get wrapped up in all her feelings because she knows that a kiss this special means it won’t be her only one, and she finally allows all her feelings to pour into the kiss. 

Y/N isn’t sure how long they spent kissing outside her door. It seems she’s lost track of time since she got a taste of Harry. “I don’t want you to go,” she mutters against his lips when she feels him begin to pull away.

“I’ll see you Monday,” he promises. 

“Too far.

Harry laughs, “you can call me tomorrow when you wake up.” Knowing she likes to sleep in, he would rather not wake her up. 

“Okay,” she whispers in defeat. 

“Good night,” Harry takes a step back. 

Y/N bites her lip and gives him a wave. “Do you want a kiss goodbye?” 

Harry can’t say no.

+

Monday morning, Y/N walks in with a large smile. It makes everyone stop and stare. She makes her rounds, wishing everyone a good morning, and saves Harry for last. 

“Hi, Harry.” She chirps. 

“Morning,” he answers timidly. 

Y/N pouts because he didn’t even look at her. She wanted to see his beautiful eyes. “So I was thinking…” she trails off. 

Harry turns, giving her his undivided attention, and Y/N’s smile widens. “How does a date sound to you?”

“A date?” He echoes. 

“With me,” she giggles.

“Best thing I've heard all day.”

Y/N claps her hands together, “wonderful.” 

“How does this weekend sound?” 

“Too far,” she teases. “Saturday?” 

“I’ll pick you up,” he promises. 

“Good. Good.” Y/N lingers by his door. 

“Yes, love?” 

Y/N feels her cheeks heat up but doesn’t look away from him. “Are we still on for lunch?” 

Harry gives her a dimpled grin, “I’ve got a new book for us to discuss.” 

Y/N tells him she can’t wait and walks away. Harry watches her go, and as if she can feel his stare on her, she turns around and gives him a wink. Harry knows he’s way in over his head with someone as amazing as Y/N, but he can’t wait to prove each day to her how much he deserves to be with her.

[peachyscenes]

nine to five | office workers!enhypen x fem!reader

notes: SMUT!! so mdni and proceed with caution/at your own risk! porn with some plot. you 🫵, my dear reader are in fact the same person for the rest of this piece/mini-series (not sorry lol). enhypen are pervs! like freaky pervs! decelis corp is lowkey highkey a sex service company lol. you must really need this job but it's ok because same. not required, but i encourage you all to read part one to give it love 🫶🫶

a/n: i apologize for how short this might be, i've been busy with school and work, but i really wanted to get this part out. i'm happy with how it turned out, but if anyone has any suggestions, don't hesitate to reach out to me. happy first of the month!!

taglist!: @vixialuvs @chubbypeach2111 @jungwoosbaey

reblogs are appreciated!!

Welcome to Decelis Corporation! As the new member of the creative department, you're tasked with developing new ideas to help promote the company and bring in new investors! Though the creative department is not as big as the other departments, you and your seven teammates are just as capable and incredibly skilled! Though, no one told you just how skilled they were... And unfortunately you made the mistake of not reading the fine print when signing the contract...

All members are welcome to explore the services provided by Decelis! By signing this contract, you are consenting to every and all services at your own expense (refer to the employee handbook for the list of services)! Please note that services outside of office hours will not count as overtime unless a request has been submitted by the team leader!

Thank you for joining Decelis Corporation! We hope to have you for a while!

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII

Part II: Jay, Administrative Assistant

You're on your way to your lunch break when Jay calls you to his desk. Sunoo, who's ready to clock out with you for the hour, looks just as confused as you are. Not because this isn't the first time that you've been called to Jay's desk, but because he always sends someone else to have you at his desk.

"Your report is terrible."

You grimaced at his tone, your shoulders coming up to your ears at how blatantly annoyed he is at you.

It's no secret that Jay does not like you.

You have no idea why. You try not to bother anyone at the office, going to Heeseung for any and all questions. You also meet your deadlines, even going as far as submitting them early. As for your reports, they're almost always viewed by Heeseung before showing the higher-ups.

But Heeseung is out for the week, meaning that Jay was stepping in for him.

"I'll review it after my break, Jay-"

"Jongseong."

"Right, sorry."

You internally cringe at forgetting the most important thing. He absolutely hates when you call him Jay. He made sure to tell you on your first meeting.

You were excited about working at Decelis. After multiple applications and what felt like hundreds of interviews with no results, you finally got a call back, and after a quick 10 minute interview, you were hired on the spot. You had came into the office the following day, dressed to impress and ready to take on anything that came your way.

You didn't expect to quite literally crash into him. His coffee had spilled all over his clothes and the files he was holding.

Jongseong had never been so pissed and while you were busy apologizing profusely, he made sure to tell you exactly what was up.

"If you want to keep your job, I suggest you take your head out of the clouds."

"I really am sorry... I'll pay for your dry cleaning," you look at his I.D. card. "Jay-"

"It's Jongseong to you."

Heeseung had to step in, apologizing to you on his colleague's behalf before immediately taking you away from the man.

You take back your report from his desk, avoiding eye contact as you hurriedly make your way back to Sunoo. He offers you a small awkward smile. He doesn't say anything, but his eyes tell you that he wants to know what happened.

"I just don't get it Sunny. I don't really bother him, y'know?"

You pick at your food, appetite lost after your interaction with Jay. Sunoo can only offer you a squeeze of his hand for comfort.

"I wish I could help you, but he kind of scares me when he's mad." You let out a huff, already dreading to go back to the office. And right you were. You expected Jay to be snappy with you, but you didn't expect him to be harsher than usual.

"I need that report by 5pm today."

"Can you please work more silently?"

"Stop congregating and get back to your desk."

"It's still terrible, revise it again."

Over and over, Jay would bark at you. Whether it's about your report or because you got up to fill your water bottle, he was on you. Your last straw was when you had tripped over his foot. Jake had given you some documents to scan in the printing room. Jay saw you when you were making your way, you didn't pay any mind to it until it happened. You scuffed a bit of his dress shoe, but it could be easily cleaned. Apparently, Jay didn't think so.

"You're such a klutz. You should watch where you're going-"

"You stuck your foot out on purpose." You cut him off. You've had it with him. "You saw me coming and stuck your foot out. If you wanted to pick a fight or get at me for the tiniest shit, then at least admit it instead of doing petty shit like this."

"Watch your tone. I didn't-"

"Stop with your bullshit Jay." You raised your voice at him. "I can't wait until Heeseung comes back." You angrily stomp out of the office to the printing room. As you were scanning through the sheets. You hear the door open. You expected it to be anyone else. You didn't expect Jay to follow you into the printing room.

"You've got some nerve talking to me like that in front of everyone."

You roll your eyes at him and return your attention back to the scanner. You're about to insert another sheet when he harshly takes the stack from your hands.

"What the hell is your problem-!"

What you also didn't expect, was for Jay to kiss you. His grip on your hips was harsh, likely enough to leave a bruise, but the juxtaposition between that and his lips made you dizzy. They were soft, tender on your own. You felt your breath being taken. He kisses you as if he needs you. His pace is slow enough for you to keep up. He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbles on it.

Jay kisses you differently than Heeseung, and admittedly you like kissing Jay more between the two.

He pulls away after what feels like forever. You finally catch your breath. It's shaky, and your hands have a tight grip on his dress shirt. Your lips are swollen, but you feel good. There's a buzz throughout your body, and Jay is there to soothe you as his hands massage your hips.

"You're such a brat, Baby. I know what you and Heeseung did."

Your breath hitches. You try to get away from Jay to avoid the embarrassment but he keeps you in place, between him and the scanner. He smirks down at you before leaning in.

"I don't appreciate your behavior from earlier. How about I teach you a lesson on respect, hm?"

Jay spins you around and starts to grope your ass. You moan lowly, liking the way he handles you body.

"Heeseung said you were a good girl, but you're so bad with me. Why is that?" His hands begin to ghost over the hem of your pencil skirt, groping your outer thighs. "I'm harsh on you because I want you to do better. You're always slacking off Sweetheart."

"Sometimes you're too mean..." you close your eyes, his hands are so warm. You find yourself relaxing and giving into his touches. "You tripped me on purpose earlier-!" You gasp when he smacks your ass. Your skirt stood between his hand and your skin, but you felt it. Your ass burns at his hit, and it's in that moment that you realize just how strong Jay is. You've seen him move things around the office on his own, and you grow wet thinking of how he'd maneuver you.

"I wanted to see if you'd pay attention. Now stay still and take your punishment like a good girl."

He lifts your skirt up and bunches it up around your waist. His hands skim over your pantyhose clad legs and ass and pulls at the material.

"These fucking tights. They make your legs look so sexy baby, but they're kinda in the way right now." You hear a rip, and gasp when his fingers trace your pussy lips from outside your panties. "So wet, do I make you this wet?"

You meekly nod, hissing out when he moves your panties to the side and immediately inserts two fingers into your sopping cunt. You grip onto the edge of the scanner, ignoring its little melody that signals to you that it's done scanning the document. Jay's fingers are thick, while not as long as Heeseung's, they fill your pussy up good. You mewl out when you feel his thumb tease your other hole. You feel a glob of spit land before he takes it and uses it as lube, teasing the tight ring of your ass before pushing it in. You tense up at the intrusion, but Jay shushes you and places a hand on your back to calm you. He pushes his fingers inside of your two holes in and out, double stimulating you.

"Jongseong! Fuck, your fingers feel so good." You feel yourself begin to move your hips in tune with his fingers, helping him reach deeper into you.

Your moans grow higher in pitch, not caring about where you are right now. Besides, you took the time to finally read the employee handbook after your encounter with Heeseung.

"F-faster Jongseong! Please! Wanna come!"

"You wanna come on my fingers baby? But I thought you said you couldn't wait until Heeseung got here." He fakes a pout as he rests his head on your shoulder.

"N-no! You! Want you to make me come." You throw your head back onto his own shoulder, tongue almost out from how good his fingers were.

"Who's better at filling up your cunt, me or Heeseung?"

You let out a whine, too embarrassed to answer because both men make you feel so good. Jay sees your hesitation as your mushed brain tries to come up with an answer. His free hand rounds your body to push past the band on your pantyhose and underwear, reaching your clit and pinching it harshly. You let out a cry at his ministrations.

"Answer me Baby. Or... is it something else?"

You nod, hoping he'd understand you, but Jay once again pinched your clit hard.

"Words, Sweetheart. Use your big girl words."

You grip his forearm, before finally breaking. Tears run down your face, you're not sure if it's from pleasure or embarrassment.

"B-both! You both fill up my pussy so good!" You turn your head towards Jay, and your eyes widen at how predatory he looks. He smirks at you, before moving is fingers at a faster pace. You moan out, head hanging as you feel the buildup of your orgasm.

"Gonna come! I'm gonna come Jongseong!"

And before you could, he stops his fingers and removes them from your holes, ripping you away from your orgasm. You let out a whine.

"No! I was gonna come!"

Instead, Jongseong gently pulls your skirt down back into place, turning you around to face him before placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Brats don't get to come until they apologize."

You stare at him, dumbfounded. He simply winks at you as he turns to leave, throwing a message behind him as he walks toward the door.

"I like when you call me Jongseong, especially when you're moaning."

You look away, feeling too shy to look at him. And just as he's about to leave, he leaves you with a final message.

"I'll be sure to inform Heeseung of your little... confession." You look up, confused by his words, when you see it. On his phone, a voice recording of everything that went down.

You feel yourself getting wet at the implications of Jongseong's words.

[a-ikuoliver]

HAPPY BLOG BIRTHDAY 🎂🎉🎈glad you're here!

This event looks so fun and cute. The menu is everything 🥰

May I have a Blow Job with Bakugou or Dabi?

🖤🐈‍⬛ Kitten

HI KITTEN i am actually so sorry this took so long BUT i hope you enjoy this, i was a liilllllll bit cheeky with yours teehee AND THANK U @ghostbeam & @unearthsaturn FOR HELPING ME U ARE LIFESAVERS birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

"table 14 is a pair of fucking cun—"

"careful, sweetheart, people will start thinking i'm some sorta bad influence if you keep speaking like that." placing a short straw into the cocktail shaker, touya places his finger on the open end, lifting out a sip of the sweet cocktail, offering it to you. sapphire eyes flash when you roll your eyes at him, but silently accept his offer, sticking out your tongue for him to place the opposite end of the straw on, dropping a taste of the drink in your mouth.

"what's got you so riled up?" he waits for you to swallow, scrunching your face at the taste of the pure alcohol burning down your throat.

"jesus, touya, have you even shaken that thing yet?"

there's a flash of silver when he laughs, all sharp canines and surgical steel as he smacks the cocktail shaker lid down with a tattooed palm, "not yet, answer my question."

with a sigh and a cross of your arms, you grumble your reply, "i have a blind date tonight."

"a date? want something for the nerves?" shaking with one large hand, he reaches for the closest liquor to him with the other, shaking the half-empty bottle with a devilish smile.

"careful, people will start thinking you're some sorta bad influence," you repeat, your coy smile mirroring his, a flash of a smile as sweet as honey, sweet enough to fool touya's father into thinking you were never at the scene of the crime (the tattooed, pierced bartender notorious for worming his way out of write-ups, a tongue as silver as the bar through it; you, however, never stayed at the scene of the crime long enough to even be a suspect on enji's radar). touya's always too happy to play into your little innocent act, the slap on the wrist worth the mischievous flash in your eyes every shift, the squeeze of your thighs when he spoke to you in that scratchy, low tone, playfully chastising you from behind the bar.

"c'mon, one shot and i'll let you clock out."

"let me? daddy makes you manager for one night and you become a tyrant," you're speaking to him like a petulant child, tutting at him while grabbing a pair of shot glasses down from the shelf, "mix us something good."

slipping out from behind the bar, you drop the glass over to a woman at the other side of the bar, the same saccharine smile you saved for customers and touya's father, the one making you look just positively angelic, well, as much like an angel as you can in that low-cut shirt.

pouring amaretto into the tall shot glass with one hand, touya reaches for the irish cream with the other, his eyes locking on the whipped cream canister close by. glancing back around to you, he's never been more grateful for a customer to be keeping you from him; with his borrowed time, he slips the whipped cream canister far in the back of the fridge, behind the bottles of beer, behind the chilled wine.

you round the corner of the bar, dragging your feet dramatically, "now i really need a pick me up before the date."

touya smiles again, that mischievous smile that got him out of trouble wherever he went, having women at the bar swooning, sweet-talking his siblings into slicing lemons and limes so he could sneak out the back for a cigarette (the habit he promised to end, in exchange for that pretty, shiny tag saying manager), "need you to run out the back for me first, sweetheart,"

"touya. you can't actually stop me from clocking out just because you're manager, that tag doesn't mean you can coerce your employees."

"you wish," he holds his pinkie up, sea-blue eyes gleaming with faux innocence, "tried to make you a blowjob, you know, get you ready for your date."

touya ignores your snort, the roll of your eyes, instead focusing on your arms crossing over your chest, your squeeze of your tits together, "i ran out of whipped cream, and you know i can't leave the bar alone."

"when have the rules stopped you before, huh?"

"i'm a changed man," tugging at his name tag, his thick, silver rings click against the plastic, the foreign taste of innocence on his tongue.

his pierced bottom lip is stuck out once more, batting infuriatingly long lashes at you until you huff, "you owe me, todoroki."

abandoning your apron along the way, you tug the door to the cooler open, feeling the weight of touya's gaze shift away as a tall blond sauntered to the bar, painted fingertips tapping at his phone screen.

crimson meets cerulean over the dark wood of the bar, touya's hands behind his back, making quick work of the knot of his apron, still watching the blond as he fished for the whipped cream, "hey, i'm lookin' for—"

"she's busy." dropping his apron aside, he tops the shots with a squeeze of the whipped cream, trailing behind you to the cooler with a wink to your date.

[yall-batman-fanfic]

The Riddler’s Mistake: The Wrong Kid for Ransom | Bruce Wayne/Batman x OC!Magician

Synopsis: Straight out of Arkham, Riddler is in need of a little cash to get back to his feet, and what better way to do that fast than a crime? But when he joined this small and ambitious – and idiotic – crime group, he realized they were the stupidest criminals in the world.

It was done. They were now in international waters with the biggest payday in their lives. Riddler wouldn’t admit this but at first he thought these idiots were really idiots but they had a sound plan. Kidnap one of Gotham’s elite kids for ransom then bring that kid to international waters before Batman can get them. Not only is the GCPD out of jurisdiction but it would take Batman time to figure out where they were, especially when Riddler set out a little “treasure hunt” for the vigilante to go around Gotham to look for the missing kid. 

“I can’t believe this, it worked!” One of the men – who Riddler calls Bozzo 1 – pumped his fist in the air.

“This is it — we’re gonna be fucking rich with this one!” Said Bozzo 2.

“Yeah, yeah, but remember,” Riddler got out of the speedboat’s helm to see their captive. They never really told him who it was, he just went with the whole idea for the cash. “I get fifty percent since those are my riddles we used, my resources, and this is my boat.” 

The boat he stole from the harbor.

“Whoah! We agreed to split it twenty-five each!” said Bozzo 3.

“Well, that was before you made me do all those riddles.”

They got out their guns and pointed at him.

Riddler raised his brow and then raised his hand to show a clicker. “You don’t want to do that.”

A bomb. He knew they would go against it so he planted something on their little getaway boat. Or he made them think he did. These criminals weren’t even the real deal, they’re just washed up employees who got tired of doing the same shit everyday. They left their work, their families in hopes of getting easy cash so they can go to the Bahamas or something. They weren’t real villains. They weren’t real criminals. They weren’t even close to the levels of Penguin, that sly crook! And They were way way out of his league too. The only reason why the Riddler even took this job was because he knew it was just going to be an easy steal to get all the money from them once they got it from the rich family they kidnapped the kid from. 

Who is this kid anyway? And why are they so quiet?

“Fine,” Bozo 1 muttered, putting down his gun. “We’d still have enough to get out of here.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Riddler tossed the clicker and caught it, almost giving the three a heart attack. “Now, who is this we got here – oh no…”

Pulling down the sack, Riddler was met by the sight of a little girl around the ages of seven or eight. She had long black hair and deep brown eyes, and a face that every Gothamite knew ever since her parents finally allowed the press to take pictures of her. 

Valerie Willow Pryor-Wayne.

Gotham’s Princess.

The only daughter of Bruce Wayne and Vivian Pryor-Wayne.

The daughter of Batman and that witch!

Unable to believe what he saw, Riddler pulled up the sack on her head again, hoping it was just the all-nighters messing with him, and pulled it back down.

Yup, that is Valerie Pryor-Wayne right there. And she did not look happy.

“Mr. Riddler,” Valerie greeted him with a passive tone.

“Hi there, Princess, give me one minute,” said Riddler.

“You have three before my Mom and Dad finds out where I am.”

“Do you have a  —”

“She’s lyin’! We threw that tracking bracelet in the sewers,” said Bozzo 2. “Wayne’s fucking psychotic to put that on his daughter.”

“And he has a  good reason to!” Riddler snapped. The raising of his voice made Valerie flinch. If this kid cries, they were dead.

Valerie pouted, glaring at him. “My Dad’s going to kick your asses, that is before my Mom does.”

“What she gon’ do? Hit me with a book?” Laughed Bozzo 2.

“My Mom’s going to send you to Hell.”

Riddler gulped at that one. He’s seen Hell and that was thanks to Vivian Pryor who threatened to put him in an eternal waking – a dream within a dream, never to be escaped – in the shape of Hell if he ever told anyone about Batman’s identity, and he does not want that.

“That’s it! We’re taking her back,” Riddler was about to lift the kid off the ground but he was met by the Bozzos’ guns.

“You chickening out, Riddler?’ said Bozzo 3.

“No, I’m doing you three a favor. You do not want to mess with the Waynes,” Riddler faced them, hiding Valerie behind him. 

“He’s chickening out!” Bozzo 2 laughed. “You can leave, but she stays.”

They were adamant in getting their money, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it but Riddler couldn’t face these three. He wasn’t a fighter, he was a criminal who does cyber-crimes, that’s why he has henchmen to do the punching! He can swim back to shore but he doubt Valerie would survive the cold. 

No, they won’t hurt her, they just want the money, he thought. 

Better save his ass first before he gets the crowbar in this one.

“Your parents are gonna get you kid, so hold on tight,” Riddler said and jumped off the boat, swimming back to shore.

“I know!” Valerie called out. “I’ll make sure too tell them about this too!”

“Send a good word to your Mom for me!” 

~*~

Vivian was livid. It was the first time Dick or any of them saw her this angry and upset. It happened in the middle of the day, the kidnapping. Valerie and her classmates were on a school trip to the children’s museum when a car suddenly stopped and nabbed her before anyone could register what was happening. 

When the Waynes were informed of the incident, Vivian and Bruce were beyond reason. Furious was not the word to describe what the two had on their faces and the way they said that they will look for their daughter and get her back one way or another. While the GCPD were confused on what the Waynes would do and went on with their own process of looking for Valerie Wayne, the Batfamily were on the move. 

After getting the call, the entire support system of Batman appeared at the Cave and were met by the sight of security cameras searching for Valerie and the men who nabbed her, and Vivian using her magic to look for her daughter. She had to go to the bottom of the cave as the glow of her magic intensified with her anger. 

The first lead they got was with the tracker that Bruce placed on Valerie, they followed its location to the servers  where they faced Killer Croc, and found no one. Just the discarded tracker.

Vivian cried in relief when it wasn’t her Valerie found in the sewers. After years in Gotham, she knew that when a body is found in a sewer that person is no longer alive. 

So, back to the drawing board they go where Batman saw a couple of Riddlers plastered on the city for him to solve.

“It can’t be the Riddler, right?” said Dick. “He’s too smart to even think about messing with Val.”

“I agree,” said Bruce. “But I’m not  ruling anything out. Red Hood, anything to report?”

Jason, who was going around the underworld of Gotham, replied, “Nothing. They haven’t seen anyone. Not even the Maronis nor the Falcones know.”

“Falcone won’t touch her,” said Bruce. “He respects the family too much with what my father did for him back then. Keep looking.”

“I know, I know.”

“Father,” Damian spoke in their comms. “More Riddles in Chinatown. And they’re getting sloppy.”

“Not like Riddler at all,” Dick mused. “An intruder?”

He and Bruce paused in their research when the Bat Computer showed an alert of someone getting in the Cave from the docks. Before any of them could go to it, Vivian appeared, no longer glowing bright nor in her Phoenix form, with someone floating beside her and was getting salt water all over the floor.

“Eddie,” Vivian greeted the Riddler who floated beside her.

“Hey, Professor!” Riddler greeted. “Looking good! Just so you know, your light was seen from outside the cave. It could attract unwanted guests, such as moi.”

Vivian dropped him to the ground, not in the mood for his games. 

“What is this, Nygma?!” Batman bellowed.

“Hold on, hold on! Before you throw your ten-ton fist at my face!” Riddler held his hands up. “I know where your daughter is!”

“So, it was you,” Nightwing glared at him.

“I DIDN’T KNOW THEY WERE GOING TO TAKE HER!” Riddler exclaimed. “Come, I would never touch a hair on that little Princess!”

“What is this game?” 

“I needed some fast cash to get on my feet,” Nygma began.

“You mean to establish yourself again after escaping Arkham,” Batman corrected him.

“And I ran into these idiots who have no criminal background but for petty theft, and a plan that came straight out of the movies. I only joined them because I knew I can easily get all of it once the job is done.”

“You just needed someone to do the heavy lifting,” said Nightwing.

“Exactly!” Riddler snapped his finger at him. “They never told who it was they were taking! They just wanted a good pay day and I didn’t care who! I swear! I only found out once we were in international waters and I opened the sack —”

“They put my little girl in a sack?!” Vivian exclaimed, her eyes glowing gold in fury.

“Again, not my plan. I jumped the moment I realized who it was they kidnapped, okay?”

“Why didn’t you bring her with you?!” Dick grabbed Nygma by his shirt.

“Because I had no chance in beating those meat-heads, and I doubt your kid can swim!”

“We gave her lessons,” said Batman.

“Well, good for her! But I doubt she’ll survive hypothermia! I barely did!”

“So, you jumped the boat and came here to straighten things out with us that you had nothing to do with,” Dick concluded.

“YES! Exactly! Now, if you please, let me go and I promise I’ll let you g on your merry way to get back the little Princess.”

“Where is she, Nygma?!” Vivian grabbed him by his shirt.

“A couple of clicks away from Gotham waters,” answered Riddler.

“You’re coming with us,” Batman declared. “Robin, we found her,,” he spoke in his comms. “Inform Commissioner Gordon to meet us at Miagani Island harbor.”

“Understood, Father,” Robin replied.

Grabbing Nygma and cuffing him using the Bat-cuffs, Batman led the man and the rest of his family to the Bat-Jet which he piloted to the direction that Nygma told him. 

And Valerie was right, it didn’t take her family until morning to find her.

~*~

“Shit! The Bat’s here!” Bozzo 2 exclaimed.

“The Riddler must have ratted us out!” Bozzo 1 started firing his gun at the jet, but to no avail. Nightwing was the first to go down, jumping on the criminals without breaking a sweat, followed by Batman who held nothing back in knocking them down, even if it meant concussing them with his punches and slamming them to the boat. 

“Val’s not here,” said Nightwing.

Batman grabbed one of the men. “WHERE IS SHE?!” He exclaimed.

With the best he could, Bozzo 2 said, “There,” and pointed at the door of the double deck speedboat. 

Releasing him, Batman and Nightwing kicked down the door and were met by a man holding an AK-47. They ducked before they got shot by his firing. 

“Viv,” Batman called for her.

Without hesitation, Vivian put Riddler to sleep and jumped out of the autopilot jet and used her magic to stop the bullets firing at their direction and then twisted the gun that exploded in his hand. 

“Val!” Vivian ran inside and was met by a horrific sight.

“Mommy,” Valerie sobbed and tried to stay calm as she wore a bomb vest. This time, it was a bluff. Riddler said he scared those three to think he used the C4 to rig the boat but they found out and used it on the girl instead to send a message to the GCPD, probably, based on the lights and the video camera that was set up.

Cutting the broadcast, Batman ran to his daughter’s side and tried to calm her cries.

“It’s okay, sweety,” he wiped her tears and pulled down his cowl. 

“Dad, I wanna go home,” Valerie sniffled.

“We will, but stay still,” Batman said and tried to figure out what the trigger was in this vest. 

“Batman, this is bad,” Nightwing pointed to the direction of the guy knocked out on the ground after the shock of pain finally came through. The man had the trigger taped to his hand and his finger taped to the button that was pushed. “What sick fuck are then?” 

“Dick!” Valerie sobbed.

“Sorry, kiddo, we’ll get you out of here. We’ve disarmed many bombs before.”

As Batman and Nightwing dealt with removing the bomb, as carefully as they could from Valerie, Vivian kept by her daughter’s side and tried to calm her down by holding her hand. When they saw the clasp of the belt, they carefully guided Valerie to remove the vest. Once removed, the girl threw herself to her mother while Batman and Nightwing disposed of the thing by throwing it in the ocean, then releasing the trigger so it would finally be over.

Batman covered his wife and daughter from the salt water that rained down after the explosion, and held them tight.

“Were you scared?” Batman asked Valerie.

Valerie shook her head. “I wasn’t, but then they put the bomb on me…”

“I know, sweety,” Vivian kissed her cheek. 

“Can I sleep in your room tonight?”’

“You can, and I’m not letting you go all night.”

“GCPD’s on their way,” said Nightwing, “But this is international waters, Batman.”

“We’ll bring this back to their jurisdiction. Tell Gordon we have what they’re looking for,” said Batman.

~*~

They were met by the GCPD halfway to Gotham, where the police can operate. Batman handed Vivian and Valerie to Gordon, and when asked how Vivian was there, Nightwing only said: “She asked us for help with the search, and demanded to come along.” That was enough for Gordon to let it slide and take the mother and daughter under his wing and be driven back to the GCPD.

For the three kidnappers, they were taken into custody of the GCPD, but before they were brought to the precinct, they were taken to the hospital.

“Didn’t hold back on that one, Bats?” Bullock commented when he saw the broken faces of the men.

Batman didn’t reply.

For the Riddler, they had him shipped back to Arkham, which Batman oversaw personally.

~*~

“You help them find their kid and this is how they repay you,” Riddler muttered as he laid in his bed with Killer Croc as his new cellmate. 

“What are you talking about now?” Croc sighed.

“Nothing!” Riddler exclaimed.

“Nygma!” Officer Debronsky opened his cell. “You got a visitor!”

A visitor for him? Riddler thought. Curious, he got out of bed and followed the protocol with the cuffs and the patting, and the escort to booth where his visitors were. Upon sitting down, he was met by the last people expected to see. 

Vivian and Valerie Wayne sitting on the metal seat, holding the telephone, while Bruce Wayne standing behind them as a guard.

“What a surprise,” Riddler began. 

“I told them what you told me to say,” said Valerie.

“Really?” He smirked. “Am I getting out early then?”

“No,” Bruce and Vivian answered.

“I tried,” Valerie shrugged. 

“Ah, well, adults always ruin the fun.”

“Eddie,” Vivian began. “I want to thank you for helping us find Val.”

“Well, I’ll take that. You don’t always get a thank you from the Waynes!” Riddler laughed.

“Also,” Vivian gestured to the officer beside him. “Val got you something as a thank you.”

The officer placed a paper bag before him. Reaching in, he was met by a book of riddles and some chocolate for him to enjoy.

“I hope you liked it, Mr. Riddler,” Valerie said.

“I doubt they’re any good but I’ll try to enjoy it.”

Valerie smiled. “Bye, Mr. Riddler! Don’t escape Arkham this time!”

The family said their goodbye and left. As Riddler was escorted back to his cell, he tossed aside the chocolate on his bed and opened the book to see the first riddle. 

Oh, that sly kid. 

She left a bunny paperclip between the pages.

[astro-can]

ninjago headcannons

RONIN VERSION BECAUSE I LOVE HIM

In the game, Ronin is mentioned to have a wife and a daughter. Unfortunately this isn't canon in the real timeline but I am in LOVE with the idea of father Ronin.

100% girl dad. This is why he looked after nya when she was manifesting her abilities.

sure, he's a huge dick and pain in the ass sometimes but you know what he isn't? A BAD DAD

"MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS!" "HELL YEAH LETS GET MCDONALDS" *buys 25 happy meals*

he is so dilf core

i mean what

who said that

he's got huge fatherly instincts. Yeah, he usually dgaf when the ninja are in trouble (unless money is involved) but if one of them aren't feeling very good and he happens to notice that, he goes into father mode

nya is feeling left out because she's the only girl? Ronin hears out all her rants and introduces her to his own daughter (who happens to be the same age) and they go on shopping dates together

cole is having trouble controlling his ghost abilities? Ronin gives tips and helps him concentrate (albeit a little harshly), but in the end, cole really improves keeping himself stable

zane short-circuits and starts malfunctioning? Ronin is immediately pulling out his toolbox and fixes him, even adding in premium things like data and upgrades PIXEL for him

jay wants to impress nya? Ronin (begrudgingly) lets him fly REX and lets him take nya on cool flying dates. (...but if jay breaks something, he's banned forever. it hasn't happened yet, but it probably will.)

kai needs to burn off some steam because he's stressed? Ronin brings him to a junkyard and gives him unsupervised access to firecrackers, flamethrowers, small bombs, etc etc and tells him to go wild (see below)

lloyd is feeling upset and guilty? Ronin sits him down and gives him therapy. sure, a bit rough on the sides and he still makes snarky remarks, but makes sure that lloyd hears what he needs to hear. it leaves lloyd feeling a lot better about himself.

Ronin's family is sort of a Spy x Family type thing. He's a thief, and his wife pretends to work as an employee at city hall but she's actually receiving secret missions from the government. they aren't exactly rich, so they both need to work dirty jobs to get money. they end up finding out about each other's identity but they laugh it off and help each other with missions sometimes.

Ronin's daughter is a lot like nya. she's a machine fanatic, good at judo, can steal your wallet in an instant, and insanely smart. she's very aware of what her parents' real jobs are but keeps her mouth shut bc she loves them both and knows that theyre doing it to keep her alive.

her dad disappears for days or weeks at a time but he always comes back with her fave things (probably speckled with blood but she doesn't care) and makes sure to spend time with her afterwards, so all's good.

ANYWAY

THAT CONCLUDES MY HAPPY RONIN HEADCANONS

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

Never Again

Summary: On a cold night, she was working late at the post office when it was robbed by three young men around her age triggering memories of her past as she was taken hostage.

Read on Ao3

Warnings: smut (p in v sex, fingering, cock warming), robbery, threats of violence, threats with a gun, panic attacks, mentions of noncon, MINORS DNI, 18+

Tag: @thought--bubble

Word Count: 4.4k

Author’s Note: I am so so happy I finally got a chance to watch this short film. Immediately when the robbery happened and a hostage was taken my brain was turning with fic ideas. This is a bit darker than what I usually write, but it was a nice change of pace. I got too into this. I have an idea for a part two/sequel if there is interest.  Enjoy the angst!

She had made a promise to herself it would never happen again. 

In the mirror, before she left each day for therapy she swore it. 

Never again. 

How many times had she told herself those two words?

It had been seven months since the incident. 

Five months since she let her nan talk her into therapy. 

She was not okay. 

She would never be okay again. 

She tried to control her breathing. The heaviness in her chest was too much. It felt like she would never be able to get enough air. Her eyes squinted in frustration. She began to sob. 

She wasn’t scared though. 

Never again, she had told herself so many times. And yet here she was. 

Here it was happening again. 

Happening to her. 

Seven months ago it had been her job at a corner shop, a knife at her throat as he demanded the druggist give him a certain supply of narcotics. 

Tonight it had been at her job, her first job since the incident, at the post office, a gun to her face, cold and heavy, as three men demanded money. 

Money. 

Drugs. 

It never mattered to her. 

Seven months ago she was afraid. 

Tonight she felt betrayed. 

Betrayed by herself for not doing what she had promised she would if this rare occurrence ever happened to her again. She had pepper spray. It wasn’t on her. It was in her purse, safely in her locker in the break area. She had frozen, unable to move unlike her promise to scream and fight back no matter the weapon. 

The gun had felt so heavy against her soft cheek. 

Her eyes even betrayed her. She teared up when she realized it was happening to her again. 

The rest of the employees were no help. 

It was her first night on the closing shift. She felt a bit vulnerable as she didn’t know much about closing up. There were three of them, her manager and another older woman who had worked there for twenty five years. They had all been nice to her. Everyone had been very understanding when she flinched when a customer spoke to her too loudly or when she ate her paper bag lunches alone, refusing invitations from her co-workers to go out on break. 

She was a bundle of nerves about to be broken. 

He had held her tight as another robber in a ski mask pressed the gun to her cheek pushing it against her molars. Her body had trembled uncontrollably, not able to hear much of anything from the other two robbers. The young man had held onto her as if she was a lifeline, but there was a slight tremble to him. 

He was scared. 

While she was frustrated, he was scared. 

The man with the knife had been sure and steady as if he had done this so many times before. 

These robbers were loose, shaky even. 

If she had done what her mind was screaming for her to do she would have been able to overpower him, but her body froze. 

Her body had betrayed her very mind. 

Now she had her hands bound in cheap frayed ropes listening to the three men arguing outside near the back end of the car. 

No. 

Not men. 

Boys. 

Three boys. 

Their voices sounded young as if they were about her age. One boy she heard sobbing harder than she had ever heard any boy ever sob. They were occasionally talking about what to do with her. It was almost as if they were confused as to why she was there. Her shoulders trembled in her tight olive green turtleneck. Her entire body felt tight. She attempted to control her breathing focusing on exercises she had learned in therapy. 

Five things she could see. 

That could help ground her. 

Fuck if she could see anything. Her eyes were so blurry with tears. Her mind was so overwhelmed with survival she could barely recognize her senses. 

She tried her best to concentrate. To remember how to ground herself and ease her panic. 

“I GRABBED THE GIRL! YOU FUCKIN TOLD ME TO GRAB HER!”

The words made her flinch as if reliving the moment again. 

Five things she could see. 

She dared to turn around.

Scared little boys in over their heads. 

Gloves clinging to sweaty hands. 

A face mask loosely hanging off a scalp. 

A gun. 

She averted her eyes. She leaned back against the seat deciding that this method was not going to work at this moment. Certainly if she had to listen to them argue. If she did, she felt like she might hear something she didn’t want to hear. 

Something about what they would do with the money. 

About what they would do to her. 

They were her age. 

There was something terrifying about that. The man with the knife only wanted drugs, to get high as quickly as possible. He had been older and focused. These lads were young, unfocused and . . . she tried not to think about what they might want by taking her. 

The one in the middle, the boy crying, kept going on about his mum. 

What did he have to cry about? 

She was the one who was kidnapped. 

Tied up in a stranger’s car for God knows what reason. 

They were the aggressors. 

They had the power. 

Fuckin’ crybaby.

She was surprised to see through her own tears. Surprised to hear as her heart was pounding in her ears. Through the thudding she could hear the one comforting the crying boy. She turned around. He was holding him so tightly she knew they were close. These were all friends that did a stupid, stupid thing. The crybaby was regretting it. The one in the ski mask was trying to gain control of the situation unraveling before him. 

He must have been the leader, the planner in all this. 

As the dynamics emerged in front of her she was realizing how little control they all had with each other. This had been a sloppy plan for quick cash. 

Desperate people often did horrible things and for the first time in the long few minutes or hour she felt a pang of fear. Her heart thudded. She wished she could hold her chest to feel it. She needed to feel something, but all she could do was feel the hot wet tears stream down her face and the heaviness that ballooned in her chest. 

“FUCKIN’ LEAVE!”

Her eyes widened seeing that the crying boy was taking off running. The ski mask boy with the gun seemed to have pushed him off. She closed her eyes letting her shaky hands settle on her black dress pants. Her eyes fluttered up to turn around again. The other boy made eye contact with her. He had a round face and dark hair. His expression spoke volumes, of fear and anger and confusion.

His eyes darted. 

Please don’t leave me, she thought. If he left the one with the gun would be the only one left. 

He ran, tumbling forward before disappearing in the dark. 

She breathed out waiting for him to turn around. To look at her. Instead he shook his head and headed to pass her door. She panicked looking forward, realizing he would be sitting in front of her. 

She flinched as he entered, the car dinging to indicate his door opening. 

Her breath was too hurried. 

Her teary hiccups were too loud. 

She didn’t know why, but she said her name. Introduced herself. She read somewhere if your captors saw you as a person they would be less likely to kill you.

“I live with my nan and my little brother and sister. They are eight and nine. I just started working at the post office nine days ago. Not even two weeks. I needed the money. Nan isn’t doing well and I . . . my parents . . . they’re shit. And she’s been so kind to take us in and . . .” She couldn’t stop herself from leaning forward to let the tears fall in big drops from her eyes. 

She choked.

She sobbed. 

She heaved. 

“Stop fuckin’ crying.” He said it softly with a sigh. She couldn’t stop. She fuckin hated herself for not being able to stop. She couldn’t catch her breath. Her ears were her heartbeat. Her hands were shaking. “Would you shut the fuck up?!” 

He snapped his head back. 

She saw his angry blue eyes. 

She sniffled. Her mouth quivered, giving small gasps as she sucked in her breath. 

His eyes settled into sadness and worry. 

“I ain’t gonna hurt you.” It sounded serious. “I swear I’m not going to hurt you. Alright?” 

She swallowed, nodding her head. She tried to blink away her tears. She watched his hand with the gun. 

“You live with your nan?” He said with a deep sigh. She saw his squinting blue eyes in the rear view mirror. 

“Yes.” She said simply trying to not start crying again. 

“How sick is she?” His voice almost seemed concerned. 

“Not sick. Not doing well. She had a bad fall this past summer tending her garden.” 

She remembered getting the call when her mum had been too hung over or drunk to bother to answer the phone. She had been the one to take her little siblings to visit Nan in the hospital. She knew then that she’d need taking care of. She was all too eager to get out of the town that now frightened her with an alcoholic mum and a job she could never go back to. 

Nan had been their savior. 

In a way so had that fall. 

“She on the mend?” 

“She’s got a good amount of screws in her hip, but yeah, she’s doing better. Never be fully healed though. It was a bad fall and she was alone.” She swallowed hard watching as he rubbed the barrel of the gun against his forehead. 

“Your parents? You said they’re shit.” 

“Yeah, mum’s an alcoholic and da . . . well . . . he’s on drugs some days, in prison other days.” She couldn’t remember the last time she saw her dad. She figured he had been around to at least conceive her little sister, so maybe eight years ago. They all looked identical so she thought they were all full siblings. 

“Yeah, my mum . . . she was . . .well . . .and I live with my nan. She’s unwell.” 

Her eyes flickered up at his confusion. 

Common ground was good. 

It gave her a better chance at survival. 

“Am I doing something wrong?” He sucked in a bit of a breath. “I don’t even know what I’m fuckin’ doing half the time.” He looked at her in the mirror. Her face fell a bit at the realization she had said something similar in therapy only two days ago. He rubbed his finger against his  forehead, latex gloves squeaking a bit. “No matter what I fuckin do . . . I  . . . I just . . .I just hope I make her proud.” He stared off in the distance. 

She didn’t know what to say. 

Didn’t know what to say to herself when she had questioned her own life in this way. 

“Nobody is going to give you what you need.” She swallowed. “You can’t hope for other people’s feelings to be what you want. You can’t control other people. You can only control yourself, your actions.” 

He peered at her in the mirror again, a lilt of his head tipped to the side. 

“Sounds like something a therapist would say.” 

“Doesn’t it?” She gave a weak reassuring smile. “I’ve thought about the same thing. I try to do what’s best for my brother and sister, but I always feel like everything I do will make them just as fucked up as my mum and da made me.” Her heart was beating for a different reason now. 

She hadn’t even said this to her therapist. 

She just focused on the incident, her fear of losing control of any given situation. 

She never mentioned how badly she wanted her siblings to have a normal childhood. 

“All kids end up fucked up anyway.” He scoffed. “Just make some good memories for them. Ice cream and snow ball fights. Summer in a field of dandelions. Those kinds of memories that can chase away the shit ones.” Those were oddly specific memories. She wondered if those were shared with the mum he had mentioned earlier. 

“My . . . um . . .mate . . . I slept with his girl.” He gave a big gulp after confessing it. “Yeah . . . um . . . a couple months ago. We were hanging out just the two of us. Met for drinks and . . . yeah . . . I thought she might, you know . . . like me I suppose, but I don’t think it meant anything to her.” He sniffed in. His palm rubbed into his eyes. “Fuck. Shit.” He was frustrated at the tears in his eyes. 

“Why’d you do it?” She wondered, trying to keep him engaged. Happy even. The gun was still in his hand. 

She half expected him to give a non answer. 

“Wanted to feel something.” He shrugged as if it were obvious. “I saw how much she cared about him. How much she loved him and . . . I guess . . . I wanted that. Needed that.” Their eyes met. “I’m a fuckin awful human.” 

“Oxymoron. All humans are awful. One way or another.” It was a sad statement. A sad world view she had. 

“I’m not really helping the image of humankind am I?” 

She had to laugh at that. 

He even smiled, high cheekbones looking beautiful in the moonlight. 

“She’s pregnant.”  It was abrupt as if he was letting it fall from his mouth. “My mate’s girl and . . . I don’t know . . . it might be mine. It could be, but I can’t say nothin’. Might end up having a kid out there and I’ll never . . . I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.” His eyes, soft and blue, shot behind him. His body fully turned. “I should let you go.” 

It’s a realization she felt herself unsure for. 

She doesn't know what will happen to her after she leaves this car. 

Doesn’t know what she wanted. 

She heard him open the driver’s side door. Out the window she could see him tuck the gun in the waistband at the back of his pants. He looked at her. 

Really looked at her. 

The tears were still there, staining her cheeks, traces of makeup running. It was as if he was realizing for the first time the damage he had done. His face widened with concern and confusion. It was as if he was wondering how he could do this. 

She saw him too. The confusion etched in his face told her he didn’t mean what he did. At least what he did to her. His eyes were so wide, so blue, so very lost. She swallowed, letting herself hope. She hoped to be free. She hoped to not die. She hoped that she could feel something other than frustration or terror or fear. 

He ran a gloved hand through his hair tussling it a bit. 

Her body, her stupid body, reacted with a tremor of longing. 

How long had it been since she had found someone attractive? 

Since she had been with someone? 

She swallowed again, deciding to squint her eyes closed, especially when the door opened. The cool air hit her. The hinge of the door bounced a bit. She heard him sniffle, but her eyes were closed so tightly because she feared what her stupid body would do if she looked at him again. 

“Yeah, okay, your hands.” He said as he reached down. 

He thought she wasn't running off into the dark because her hands were still tied. She felt him then. He was close to her, pulling at the ropes. The blonde young man loosened them rather easily. She could feel his fingers against her wrist, smooth with the plastic white gloves pulling at the frayed coarse ropes. She winced a bit. 

“Almost there, love.” 

She felt herself open her eyes. He was looking down, unraveling the ropes. Her heart was beating loudly in her ears, a different set of thuds. She was not fearful or frustrated. His words had eased her in a way, made her realize just how lonely he was. How much they had in common despite how very opposite their situations were.

“There.” he tossed the ropes to the floor of the back seat. “Off you go then.” He was about to step aside, pull back from her to fulfill his promise. 

Her arms were now free to do as they pleased. 

She wrapped her arms around her captor’s neck and pulled him down on top of her. Her lips took his in a quick meeting of chapped lips against his soft cupid’s bow. 

“The fuck?!” He pushed off of her looking for a moment. 

She didn't know what he saw that made his eyes fall back to her lips, plush and pinkened. 

Perhaps it was her desperation to feel something. 

Or maybe it was the way her chest heaved against her tight olive turtleneck. She knew it made her tits look great. Maybe he could see the outline of her black bra.

Maybe it was a realization of what that quick kiss meant. 

Whatever the reason, it didn't matter. 

He was on top of her kissing her back with a hungry unknown need. His mouth opened for her. It invited her to tangle with his tongue and possess him, body and soul. He held her face making slight little mmmms. She rewarded him with little needy whimpers. His knees fit snugly on the back seat caging her in. He didn’t let his lips leave hers as he shrugged off his coat in frustration, tossing it to the floor. 

She could feel his chest press against hers nearly crushing her as he struggled to get as close to her as he physically could. She didn’t mind it. The feel of his weight was satisfying. She wanted him closer too. Her hands were in his floppy blonde hair pulling and caressing all at once. It made him harden. She could feel his hardening cock against her as he humped her uncontrollably. 

One of his greedy large hands snaked down between her legs. He palmed her mound. She felt heat rise in embarrassment as she had very clearly seeped her arousal through her work pants. She felt him smile against her lips giving a very pleased noise in the back of his throat. His fingers unbuttoned her trousers in one go as his lips and tongue made her wetter with longing kisses. His fingers ran along her cotton panties finding the trail of wetness.

When his thumb grazed her thigh she was made aware of the plastic gloves. That was when she found her voice. 

“Take off the gloves.” She was not one to be making demands, but she needed to feel his skin.

He was clearly frustrated that she had slipped away from their perpetual kisses to voice her request, but he kissed her chin and nodded. 

“ ‘Course.” It was somewhere between a moan and a mumble. 

He pulled off one glove at a time before continuing to both kiss her and find her sweet tight cunt. Before she could take a deep breath in preparation, her panties were down to her knees. He ran his fingers over her bare slit, stroking her lovingly. She moaned out her desire. 

“You need this as much as me, don’t you?” He asked, finally breaking to look into her eyes. There was an edge of wetness under his eyes. Tears that were so very happy to feel something good. 

“More, maybe.” Was her quick response. 

He gave her a soft kiss that read sweet even though there was a gun in his waistband and fingers teasing her wanting pussy. He sank a finger inside her as he began to make out with her again. The noise she made was one of uncontrollable lust. He let her lips go to hear it. Hear all the noises she made as he pumped one finger into her before adding another without warning. His lips moved to kiss and suckle at the softness of her neck smelling her perfume, notes of musk and pear.

His gentle rhythm made her whimpers soft and palpable. Her eyes fluttered and nearly rolled at the feeling. When he curled those fingers it was when her hands found his shoulder and hair for support. She felt like she was going to lose herself as he quickened his pace. Her words were of approval, a series of yeses and mores and pleases. She could feel his prideful smile against her neck which quickly turned sour as she felt his cock straining against his trousers. Her inner walls were clenching around his fingers. 

He pulled them out without warning. 

“No, wait, please.” She felt like a needy little child, opening and closing her hands on his shoulder and in his hair. 

“I need to fuck you.” 

He pushed up so he was on his knees looking at her. He took off his belt. It ended up on the floor, but so did the gun. He eyed it for a moment. He was too pent up to care and so was she. His fingers were so slippery with her arousal that it made him struggle to unbutton his pants. She sat up slightly assisting in the button and zipper. When she looked up she saw he was watching her. 

He saw her again. 

His hand palmed her cheek. 

The same cheek he had pressed a gun to an hour or so before. 

“You are so beautiful.” She didn’t know if he meant it. 

What was beauty? 

Was it the fact that she is physically attractive to him? 

No. He hadn’t said it like that. 

More than likely it was how she responded to him. How she reacted. The words she said. How they realized that they just both wanted to do something different. 

Be someone different. 

To make the people they loved proud of them. 

She was beautiful because she could feel so much in the span of an hour. 

His fingers played with her wettened cheek, soft and tender with tears. She didn’t mind it. She didn’t mind him. He was looking down at her as if memorizing this moment. Her face was soft and gentle despite everything. Her eyes and his were the same, blown black with lust and primal hunger. 

She nodded.

She knew.

He was so very hard. 

She could see the bulge, prominent and nearly angry in his boxers. 

He trailed his hand from her cheek, down her neck, and to her breast. He gave her a healthy squeeze there. He moaned louder than her. It was at that, when he released himself. His cock was decently sized with a ruddy red tip glistening with precum. He held it tracing it along her slit. He found her clit and rubbed his tip on it in slow gentle circles.

“My name is Will.” He said in a seductive whisper. He leaned forward to share the rest of his desire. “You’ll say it when I fuck you.” 

His lips and teeth were on her neck as he pushed inside her. The stretch was agonizing for only a small second. It had been so long since anyone had been inside her. Her vibrators weren’t as girthy as Will’s cock. 

“Will . . .” She murmured as he bottomed out inside her. “Will.” She wanted to be good, fulfill his desire. What the fuck is wrong with me? She thought for a small moment, but the pleasure erased any wrong feelings she felt about fucking the boy who kidnapped, held a gun to her head, made her experience trauma. 

“That’s right. You’ll remember me. This cock. You’ll remember it.” 

Will eased slowly. It was different then the rutting desire she had felt moments ago. His mouth was buried in the crook of her neck. He gave her deep steady strokes at first. All the way out then a thrust back in. It was a pace that made her aware of how good he felt inside her, dragging along her walls. She felt all of him moving, thrusting, grunting, and panting. She altered holding his neck to his shoulders for support. 

The only warning she received indicating he would start pounding into her was a soft look. Their eyes connected. He breathed in and out harshly, fully inside her, then began shallow thrusts. Her only response was to nod in agreement. 

She wanted him to fuck her hard. 

He started pounding into her relentlessly. His hips snapped onto her at a rate that made her body quiver. Her moans were audibly loud. She couldn’t remember what she should be doing with her hands. She settled for gripping his shoulders. He was grunting and pushing against her thighs spreading them wide to get in deep. His angle inside her kissed her sweet spot. 

“Will! Oh my god! Yes!” Her hips struggled to meet his because he was pounding her hard into the back seat almost making her bounce back. “Will. Will. Will. Will.” She knew he liked that. His cock was twitching inside her. 

“Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna cum.” He pulled out as her walls spasmed around his cock. 

He spilled himself half on her thigh and half on the mound of her cunt. Her back arched. Her eyes screwed shut as her pussy clenched around nothing. She felt a thumb. His thumb rubbed tight circles around her clit. 

“There you go, baby girl. I got you.” She whimpered letting fresh tears roll down her face as she orgasmed. “There it is.”

Her chest heaved. She barely had enough time to catch her breath when he slipped his softened cock back inside her. He pressed his body on top of her letting her feel his weight. She was a bit taken aback at first when she realized what he was doing. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling him inside her, safe and warm. 

“Just,” He swallowed and kissed her tears spurred on from her orgasm. “Stay with me a little longer.” He had no room to make demands. “Please.” He was nestled inside her and on top of her, holding her again as close as he could. 

She could feel his breath. 

She could feel his heart, steady and lazy. 

She could smell his scent, salty cum, sweaty heat, and a tingle of aftershave at his chin which now rested between her covered cleavage. 

Her fingers pet against his hair. 

Never again, she remembered. Never again did she want to feel helpless or the loss of control. 

Never again did she want to feel alone. 

She knew now she could never make that promise. 

A new one floated in her mind. 

“I want you.” She knew it was what Will needed to hear, but it is a whispered secret, a shameful truth. For him and herself. “Over and over again.” 

They needed to be needed. 

At this moment they needed each other.

[neuroticbookworm]

Immersing the audience into the stressors, politics and dynamics of a typical workplace is something The Trainee consistently does very well. And this week I was feeling every bit of the angst Jane was feeling over his career path so far, and his doubts, deliberations, and regrets.

The episode opened with the interns discussing how much they've grown over the internship, both personally and professionally, and it cleanly tied into Jane looking back at his internship days, and wondering why he has not gotten the director gig he so clearly wanted from the very beginning.

It was a bit jarring to see intern Jane quiet and subdued in the background while Nine was busy working his corporate flattery. Current Jane is so competent that he had us all drooling for him in the past episodes, but he would've also started out as a green intern. I'm happy that we got to see that Jane did grow as a professional in this AD job, even though it was not something he wanted to do. It was heartbreaking to see him compare himself to Nine, but it was also liberating to see him pack up the boxes. Past Jane accepted the AD job despite not wanting it, but he also grew enough for present Jane to know his worth and leave his unfulfilling job behind.

We got to see Jo give excellent advice to Pah just a couple weeks ago, and now today we saw him hold back Jane from pursuing a job he wanted, just because he thought Jane would be a better fit in a different role (@lurkingshan goes into detail here). He failed to communicate his feedback to Jane, or reconsider and promote him to director after a couple years. This was infuriating to watch but it is unfortunately very realistic. Competent yet complaisant people often get pushed into unforgiving roles and tasks. Being unapologetically loud is the only way to break out of these roles.

Workplaces and bosses who undervalue and hold back their most competent employees will always exist, and I am happy that the show modelled how one can realize their worth and grow their self-confidence to make the decision to leave a deadend job behind. I am so excited for the finale, to watch Jane walk out a workplace that heavily relied on his talents, while constantly shit talking him behind his back. I am extra excited to watch Jane flame Nine's ass for being stealing sack of shit. And I will kiss this show on the mouth if Jane tells Nine he's probably on a fast track to jail time because his untalented ass is gonna have to keep stealing to stay afloat, and someday a bigger fish is not gonna be amused by this behaviour and legally tear his ass to shreds.

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

What Was I Made For? - Charles Leclerc

<word count - 1251>

Another day: done. Another day that had felt like it had been wasted doing your ever so boring job while you watched pedestrians walk in and out, smiling as their carefree hours whizzed by. 

You served coffee after coffee, frappe after frappe, and each one took you an inch closer to insanity. As soon as the clock struck five, you threw your apron into your locker and traded it for your jacket. 

Just as you were about to slip out of the employees only back exit, you heard your boss collaring your name. You were just going to pretend you couldn't hear and leave anyway, but there was no ignoring her when she tapped you on the shoulder.

"Y/N, I'm going to need you to put in a few extra hours next week since we're pretty short on staff and we've been really busy lately," she smiled, and the urge to punch her in the face had never been stronger. The last thing you wanted was to put in more hours of your life doing the least rewarding job you had ever had. 

"Do I get paid any extra or anything?" you asked. You only did the job for the money, since you liked to have some independence from Charles. As expected, he had offered to support your life since he made more than enough, but you wanted to do something with your life. But this wasn't it.

"Sorry honey, the best I can do is more coffee coupons," she chirped, and you wondered how she was always so cheerful and happy. It was almost envious. Well, it would be if it wasn't so damn infuriating and irritating. 

"Just send me through the hours," you tutted, not wasting anymore time in that god forsaken coffee shop than you had to. Walking back home, you couldn't help but frown at all of the people around you, enjoying what they did for a living. 

They were all making names for themselves, leading fulfilling lives and living their dreams. And then there was you, serving coffees just finding a way to spend time. 

What were you doing with your life? Who were you supposed to be? Why did you have to live through groundhog day every day?

As per usual, you walked past the art gallery, boasting creativity and colour, and the jewellery stores with glittering pieces that you wished you had made. Just so someone would recognize something you had done. 

Finally, you arrived at the safe haven that was the apartment you shared with Charles. He wasn't back yet, since he had gone for dinner with some friends for the evening.

You got yourself comfortable, taking a shower and snuggling up on the couch. As you watched a movie, you couldn't help but feel saddened by the actor's success.

They were household names, doing what they loved for a living. And there you were. Sat on your couch counting the hours away.

You just wished you could have been like them - even if just a little bit. Hell, you just wanted to be someone. You just wanted be something.

These thoughts rushed through your head for a while, so much to the point where you failed to notice the movie had ended and you were staring at a blank screen with watery eyes.

You also failed to notice the front door opening and closing as a tear of disdain and jealousy rolled down your cheek. "Hey, amor. How are you?" Charles asked, but you couldn't snap out of your darkened haze.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" He asked again, placing a hand on your shoulder and shaking you slightly.

"What am I doing with my life?" You asked, your eyes still glued to the black screen. You didn't hesitate to ask, there was no point. "What?" he asked, clearly not understanding the question.

"Who am I?" you asked, and Charles just looked at you, trying to figure out what you were asking. This was so out of the blue since you were normally a happy, cheerful kind of person.  "Exactly, I'm no one," you said, leaning forward and resting your elbows on your knees after he didn't respond.

"I just serve shitty coffee to shitty people and that is my life," you continued, the frustration building as you spoke. "Nobody knows who I am and nobody cares," you rambled, shrugging his hand away.

"Baby, you know that's not true," he said, struggling to come up with something to help you snap out of the stupor. He wondered how long you had felt like this for it to all come out so suddenly and strongly. "There's no point in trying that, Charles. I know it is,"

"I used to be untouchable," you sighed, thinking back to when you met Charles and what had lead up to it. You had worked your ass off like you had through your whole life. You tried hard in school and did everything you could to contribute to your community and others around you. 

"I used to be amazing, and now look at me," you babbled. You were living your dream, but you left your job to move to Monaco with Charles. "I threw it all away," you whispered, not wanting Charles to think it was his fault in the slightest. 

"But you are amazing," he tried to console, his heart breaking to hear you talk about yourself like this. "Not anymore," you said, thinking about what you could have been. Long distance could have worked and maybe you'd be happy right now.

"You can be whatever you want to be, you know that right?" he asked, not realising what he had set himself up for. "I'm not talented enough to be a singer, I'm not pretty enough to be a model, I'm not charismatic enough to be a talk show host, I'm not driven enough to have my dream be my job like you,"

"Everyone already has their lives planned out and are making leaps and bounds towards their end goal, and then there's me. Wasting my time and wallowing in my own self pity," you sighed, and Charles was wracking his brains for something that might help.

"You're still young, baby, you have loads of time to figure it out. And once you do, you have more than enough to get yourself there because you can do anything you put your mind to," he tried to reassure, mentally cursing at himself for how cheesy that sounded.

He hated that you had this opinion of yourself. To him, it didn't matter if you were the most talented, the prettiest, the most charismatic. It just mattered that you were you and he loved you for that. 

"But everyone else has it figured out. Everyone is already someone. You're Charles Leclerc, the face of Ferrari, the man from Monaco, hero to children across the globe. You have a purpose.  And what about me? Well that's exactly it, I'm just me," 

"There's no such thing as 'just me'. You are hard-working beyond belief, you take pride in your job, you care about other people, you're the love of my life. Surely that's enough?" he desperately tried to claw you back out of the slump, but his sweet words couldn't shield the darkness this time.

"Maybe it isn't, not anymore," you mumbled, standing from the couch and shutting yourself in the bedroom, leaving Charles sat on the couch by himself, gobsmacked. He didn't know how to help you realise how brilliant you really were, but you didn't really know either.  

A/N - I went to see Barbie the other night, and this song just destroyed me. I guess it just made me think about things, y'know? If anyone has any requests, feel free to submit them, I adore writing them!

|masterlist|

[robin-the-enby]

Hello!! Could I request some sweeney todd x reader heavy fluff please? thanks!

Marked by an angel

Pairing: Sweeney Todd x gn!reader

Smmary: A chance meeting of two strange people on Fleet street. What started just as part of your job lead you to finding a new friend and perhaps...a lover.

Warnings: hints of murder (it's Sweeney, c'mon), unfair boss/employee dynamic, description of getting robbed and bruises (1 blackeye)

A/N: After what felt like an eternity, I am back! I am so glad I finished this. I was dealing with mental issues, financial struggles, work and uni so I had no time and time or energy to do anything. But I am very happy to post this! Maybe it's not as fluffy as you wanted and for that I am sorry, but I feel like it is as true to the character as possible :) I'll gladly hear your feedback on this piece and all likes, but especially reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! Also, if you'd like to hear some bonus stuff about this oneshot, feel free to shoot me a message!

There are many men in the world. And yet you can't say you've ever met anyone the likes of Mr. Todd.

The quiet barber from Fleet street. With his pale complexion, white streaked hair and dark eyes that held the depths of the ocean that surrounds Britain. He had captured your attention the very first time you made an appointment with him for your boss. The recommendations for his shop floated around your part of town and all the gentlemen could not seem to praise his skills enough.

Your boss had ordered you to find him a new barber, since his old one was ripping him off on money. Not that you blamed the poor bloke, times were tough, prices high and it wasn't like your boss couldn't spare a few pounds, especially since he liked to have his hair and beard trimmed once a month. Luckily, you managed to talk him out of getting the authorities involved, knowing that if the man was to be jailed, it would take a massive toll on his family.

Your job as an errand person, a sort of secretary, was simple enough in theory. You followed your boss around, a businessman dealing in produce from a few farms that he owned in the countryside. All you had to do was carry a notepad and a pencil with you to scribble down tasks that had to be managed and appointments that had to be made or dealt with. But in reality your legs were probably stronger than most people's, with how many steps you walked every day. Even though it wasn't in your job description, you did everything your boss didn't want to, went everywhere he wasn't exactly needed. You swore that the lazy bastard would have you walking to the latrine instead of him, if it were possible.

That was one of the reasons you liked the visits to the barber's, because you got to just sit on a chair by the window for an hour at least, quietly listening to the conversation made between your boss and the man grooming him, only occasionally having to scribble down one thing or another. But ever since your boss started to frequent Mr. Todd's shop, the rest wasn't the only reason accompanying your boss there was enjoyable or you.

Mr. Todd was an enigma. Mostly silent during work and outside of it, you learnt to appreciate the sound of his voice and to study his body language, little quirks that gave off pieces of his personality. The way his eyes flitted around, scanning the face of his customer for any imperfections that needed to be dealt with. His hands were steady, working seemingly without relying on his eyes or even brain, with a level of discipline you haven't seen before in your life. And from time to time, his eyes would flick up to meet yours, for a fraction of a second, before falling back down to your boss, lounging on Mr. Todd's intricate chair. You wondered why it had to be so intricate, compared to other barbers you've seen in your career, but you didn't question it, just as you never questioned the way the man's eyes would inevitably get stuck on your boss' neck every once in a while for some reason that had yet to reveal itself to you.

Maybe it was morbid curiosity or some other strange pull that made you want to find out just what was the cause of the deep emotion swirling behind Sweeney's eyes. The kind of pull that made sure the mysterious barber did not leave your mind for longer than a few hours. So you started to come around to the meat pie shop right under Mr. Todd's. The shop owner, Mrs. Lovett, was a sweet and terribly lonely woman, whose meat pies were, also, quickly gaining popularity around its part of town, and it didn't take long for her to take a shine to you as soon as she recognised you as one of her regulars.

While making a new friend wasn't your primary goal when you started hanging around the pie shop, you didn't mind how Mrs. Lovett warmed up to you. She was a sweet and funny woman, in her own way, and you soon recognised she was also dealing with romantic feelings towards Mr. Todd, as she confided in you one day. These feelings were unreciprocated, as far as you knew, although Sweeney visited the shop every night, coming down to fetch his dinner, for free of course. He usually came around after closing his own shop, sometimes even later, when even Mrs. Lovett closed down for the night. He would walk past you two sharing a glass of wine and exchanged a quiet and smooth, although cold 'good evening', before taking a pie and disappearing upstairs again.

But the longer you kept visiting Mrs. Lovett, the more Sweeney started to notice you. Once in a blue moon he would share a glass of wine with you both as you would more or less listen to Minnie ramble about this and that. After some time, one night, when Sweeney was upstairs and you were spending an evening at the pie shop, Mrs. Lovett told you cheekily that Mr. Todd asked about you, how you and her met and why you were around so much. Despite her mischievous smile you felt as if he was wary of your presence here, which puzzled you, but it did not deter you from wanting to get to know the man more.

In the end, it was him who made the first move, and you didn't even realise until much later. One time, when you were accompanying your boss for his monthly trim, Sweeney suggested that he should come around more often, at least every two weeks, because it would do wonders for his hair and beard health. It was evident your boss had no idea whether that was true or not, so he looked at you for confirmation. You shared a look with the barber, through which you tried to communicate to him that if he was planning to swindle your boss, it would be on your head, but something in those dark eyes of his made you trust him, so you confirmed to your boss that yes, coming to the barber more often would not only be beneficial to his hair, but it would also be good for appearances.

From that point on you got closer with the barber much faster than you could even register. One night, as you were sitting at the table in the pie shop across Minnie, nursing your second glass of wine and venting out frustration from your job, Sweeney came down to get his dinner. Before he left though, he stopped in the door to the kitchen, where the pies were made, and stared at you for a while, gaze calculating, but not as cold as you were used to. With the alcohol flowing through your veins you called him out on it, to which he simply replied "Your hair. It would do good with a trimming." before turning around on his heel and walking out. Mrs. Lovett cursed his lack of etiquette and assured you that you looked fine, although getting a trim wouldn't be a bad idea. She knew that given what your job was, you didn't have much time left to treat yourself.

The next time you accompanied your boss to his barber appointment yet again, Sweeney brought up the subject as your boss left you to pay. "Have you thought about my offer?" You blinked up at him, not knowing for a second what he meant, before his eyes shifted to your hair and you understood what he was implying. Feeling the heat rising to your cheeks, you tried to keep your cool as you asked, just to be sure "You meant that you would trim my hair?" You didn't want your voice to come out as unsure and surprised as it did, but if Sweeney noticed it, and something told you he did, the barber didn't mention it or let it show. He only smirked the slightest bit, making you wonder later if you didn't just imagine it, and replied "Well, at this point I would be offended if the first person you tasked with such a job wasn't me. Or do you deem my skills inadequate?" he raised his brow as he jokingly asked, knowing well what your answer would be. Feeling as hot as a boiled potato, you quickly settled the date of your appointment before you were out the door, so that your boss wouldn't scold you for dilly dallying.

When the day of your appointment came, you felt strangely nervous, your legs slightly shaking as you walked up the stairs to Sweeney's dark shop. For some reason, you couldn't shake the feeling of cattle being herded to a butcher. You chalked it up to your crush making you nervous, but that feeling only intensified when Sweeney positioned the barber chair you had sat on, so that you were half laying down. And yet when he tended to your locks, his touch was soft, quick and precise, never wandering where it didn't need to and leaving as soon as he was done in one area, moving swiftly to another. What came as a surprise to you was that he made small talk with you the entire time you were in that chair. Maybe it was because he sensed your nerves, but maybe not, you really couldn't tell. He asked you where you came from, why were you in London of all places, he even asked about your job and your family. The last topic he brushed upon quickly, which made you suspect it was a tough subject for him, an information you filed away safely in your brain to mull over later.

The last thing he told you when you were done and admiring yourself in the mirror he provided was to not tell Mrs. Lovett who cut your hair. You nodded softly and made your way home, feeling like a brand new person. Although the next time you set foot in the pie shop, Minnie's first question was "Did Mr. Todd cut your hair? It looks wonderful, darling!" You didn't confirm nor deny her rhetoric question, only smiling a bit bashfully before Mrs. Lovett insisted on opening 'the good wine' for the occasion. You didn't mention the fact that he refused to take payment for the service...

And as if that wasn't enough embarrassment in the short amount of time, this night at Minnie's pie shop turned out to have gone on much longer than any other one. Mrs. Lovett insisted you stay a bit longer any time you brought up going home for the night. Her reasoning being that since you finally did something for yourself after what must've been quite a long time in her opinion, you deserved to treat yourself some more, because when would an opportunity like this arise again?

And so you stayed seated in the dimly lit pie shop that smelled of baked meat, the likes of which you have never smelled before, and a mixture of herbs that reminded you of a memory long buried in your mind.

The conversation flowed freely and as the alcohol made its rounds through your bloodstream, your tongue became looser, as well as did Minnie's. She told you how her attempts at wooing Mr. Todd were progressing, or rather, were stagnating, with the man ignoring any and every romantic gesture or hint made towards him by his friend. That brought you to joining her in her admiring words for the handsome barber, leading to many laughs and jokes. Maybe it was because of her tipsy state, but you were surprised Mrs. Lovett took your admission of your crush on her upstairs neighbour better than you expected.

Your conversation then moved elsewhere and you were both so engrossed in it that neither of you heard the quiet footsteps leading to the shop. Sweeney's brows rose a little as he opened the door to a peculiar sight. The two people he had allowed closer to himself than anyone else since his return to London were sitting huddled at a table, which wouldn't have been that unusual, if it wasn't for the nearly empty bottle of old and undoubtedly strong wine. Both of your glasses were somewhat filled, the precious liquid spilled here and there in small amounts on the table. If Sweeney wasn't such a gentleman, despite his cold and often ruthless heart, he would say you were drunk. And not just a little bit.

Announcing his presence with a gruff cough, both your and Mrs. Lovett's heads snapped around to face him and he fought the small smirk that grew on his face at the sight. "Mr. Todd! We haven't even noticed you were here!" Minnie quickly addressed him with her signature friendliness. You stayed silent, instead opting to just admire the way Mr. Todd looked in the dim lighting in the shop. You felt you were seeing him completely differently than the other nights you spent there. His eyes reflected the light, making them look even more mysterious and alluring than usual and his normally pale face seemed more livelier. You would have spoken up, offered him some wine, but suddenly, being brought out so suddenly from your conversation with Minnie, your tongue felt big in your mouth, the weight of lead and you just did not have the energy to move it. Or open your mouth for that matter. Somewhere in the back of your mind crossed a thought that maybe you have had a bit too much to drink.

"It is quite late, I am surprised to catch you awake." Mr. Todd pointed out in a neutral tone, despite the playful mirth he was feeling. "Oh but the same could be said about you, Mr. Todd." Mrs. Lovett retaliated cheekily "Besides, we have a good reason to drink into the night! It is my friend's birthday, after all." she announced with an air of pride. You blinked at her a few times, not knowing where she had gotten that information from, because you were pretty sure today was not your birthday at all. Perhaps Minnie has forgotten the reason you were celebrating altogether and her drunken mind just made up a reason on the spot. As you were pondering when actually was your birthday, Mr. Todd spoke up again "Is that so? Well in that case-" and in a few strides he was at yours and Mrs. Lovett's table. He grabbed her half full glass of wine and before you could start wondering if it wasn't half empty, he raised it, grabbing your hand. "Happy birthday." he smiled slightly while you stood up, because you were being congratulated and you didn't want to appear rude, even though there wasn't actually a reason to congratulate you. Mr. Todd downed his, previously Minnie's, glass in one gulp before setting it down again.

Turning to Mrs. Lovett, he addressed her "I need to discuss something with you." he then turned his attention towards you "But it seems there is a more pressing matter at hand." he smirked as he gave you a once over. You felt your cheeks flush, knowing he was right. Standing up was the last straw before your alcohol fueled downfall. You were barely standing, your body swaying side to side slightly to keep itself balanced. Mrs. Lovett studied you for a while as well, before standing, with only a slightly lesser difficulty than you. "Oh I'm so sorry, dear, it seems that I have gone overboard with the drinks." she apologised and you couldn't help but smile softly at her sad tone. "'S alright, Minnie. 'M not mad." you shook your head with a small smile "I best be off though..." mumbling to yourself, you bid your friend a goodnight, not really paying attention to Sweeney, assuming he was waiting for you to leave so that he could discuss whatever it was with his neighbour.

Stumbling away from the table, you were surprised when a hand gripped your upper arm, supporting your weight and grounding your otherwise spinning world. Tracing the arm the hand was attached to with your eyes, you found Sweeney's already looking at your face. You said nothing, in the case that he only supported you in your struggle to weave through the tables in the shop, but as he continued to lead you out of the old building, Mrs. Lovett having gone in the back already, you were confused by this act of chivalry. Not that you took Mr. Todd for a brute, you just didn't expect such a gesture aimed at...yourself. The fact that this was also the first time he has touched you in any way while not necessarily needing so, unlike when he gave you your haircut, did not help your inebriated mind from running wild with conspiracies.

The crisp night air helped clear your head a little bit and you gulped it greedily with deep breaths when you walked out, arm in hand, with the barber. He stood, patiently, right next to you, his secure, but not tight grip on your arm never faltering. If he noticed how you took your sweet time collecting yourself, he didn't mention it, his eyes instead trained on the silver moon hanging in the sky like a lamp, blurred slightly by the infamous London fog. When he sensed you move more into the street, however, he tugged you back towards him slightly, as if he could not let you stray far.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his tone devoid of emotion and yet his eyes shone in a particular way that you couldn't exactly put a finger on in your state. The smirk that once rested on his handsome face was gone and you were perhaps more confused than before. "Home?" you half answered, half asked, unsure of what was the problem. Mr. Todd shook his head sternly "I cannot send you home alone at this time of day and retain a sound mind." he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You couldn't help but laugh at his statement. Where were you supposed to sleep then? Inside the shop? Sliding your arm out of his grip, you grabbed your stomach, your laughter gaining in volume, making you double over. "Oh, you're funny, Mr. Todd!" you wheezed, not caring the man you were addressing was looking at your drunken self with a completely neutral expression, not understanding in the slightest what was so funny "I have to go home! Where else would you have me spend the night?" you asked when you caught your breath, your laughter simmering down into tired giggles. Drunk laughing was hard, but really fun at the same time, you thought.

Sweeney reached out to take your arm again, turning you around to face the stairs like a puppet and started leading you to his home. "You can spend the night upstairs. If I sent you home, alone, you're sure to get robbed...or worse." his voice was cold and harsh and yet you had the sense this sudden change of tone was not due to anything you said. Not taking any chances, just in case, you kept your mouth shut and let him lead you up the stairs while you could feel your face heat up. It felt awfully wrong to just...invade his space like that. If there's one thing you learned about Sweeney, and let's be honest, there weren't many to choose from, it was that he was a very private person. At the same time, he invited you here. If he didn't want you in his space, he could've just let you stay downstairs with Minnie, she would take good enough care of you without a doubt. But what did all this mean?

You said nothing else as you let the barber move you along, much like a puppet, while trying to focus on every confusing thought and feeling that ran through your head. But your energy was quickly dwindling and you couldn't help but to succumb to sleep as soon as our head hit the pillow.

Regaining consciousness again was...unpleasant, to say the least. The first thing you registered was rain. Not very unusual for London though. The next thing was a piercing headache, that threatened to split your skull in two. Groaning, you flipped over in bed. That's when you noticed the smell. This didn't smell like your sheets... Slowly, but surely, the events of the previous night came back to you, even the less than appropriate ending of it. Blinking open your eyes, you let yourself get adjusted to the lighting of the room, before taking a look around. You were, in fact, in Mr. Todd's small abode and you were very probably in his bed too. You could feel heat creeping up your neck as you registered the all too familiar objects of the barber shop, now from a brand new perspective. There was the barber chair, as ominous as ever, the normal chair to the side, where you usually sat, now occupied by the master of the house.

Polishing and sharpening his blades, Sweeney sat by the window, seemingly uninterested and unbothered by basically a stranger waking up in his bed. His unwavering focus was only on his blades, a focus so intense it would send shivers down your spine, if you weren't so engrossed in your own embarrassment. Only when you began to sit up, your arms threatening to give out underneath you, did the barber tear his gaze away from his tools. You tried to get up to your feet as quickly as you could, manners all but forgotten, your only desire was to get out and never return to Mr. Todd's barber shop or Mrs. Lovett's meat pie establishment ever again. But your knees were wobbly and you felt in your body like a newborn fawn, so your quick escape proved to be harder than you thought.

Sweeney looked at you inquisitively and it seemed like he wanted to say something, but you beat him to it, the thought of anything he could and probably would have said making bile rise in your throat. Fighting the nausea, you pushed yourself off the bed and lightly stumbled before standing in front of the barber. "I am so sorry for what transpired yesterday, Mr. Todd." you apologised first and foremost after clearing your throat "You should not have had to witness any of that." looking awkwardly to the side, you continued "However I am very grateful for everything you have done for me yesterday." And with those last words, you bee lined it for the door, only briefly noticing the 'closed' sign on the door that should have been turned around probably hours ago. It wasn't until you were in the middle of the journey home that you realised you didn't even know what time it was, nor did you at least have the decency to make up the bed after you have slept in it. Which brought forth a question...Where did Mr. Todd sleep? There didn't seem to be another sleeping area nor any kind of furniture suitable for such activity in his living/working quarters. You weren't sure what made you blush more, the possibility that you shared a bed or the possibility that he stayed awake somewhere in the same space as you were the whole night. Both seemed strangely...intimate.

For the next few weeks, you avoided Fleet street like the plague. Luckily for you, your boss wasn't in need of a trim anytime soon, even though you did convince him to visit the barber's more than he did previously. But whenever you thought about the mysterious gentleman residing above the pie shop, hot embarrassment flowed through your body like lightning. And so you didn't remind your boss to upkeep his appearance and as usual, the big oaf wouldn't think of such thing himself. He had money, so what if he looked a bit disheveled? Everybody was saving up on everything they could, the rich and poor alike.

Mrs. Lovett was especially vocal about your absence. She worried that she really did offend you or did you wrong somehow during that a bit too wild night. Whenever Sweeney would appear in the shop to fetch his meal, she would bombard him with questions, if he had any news of you, your whereabouts, your wellbeing, or whether your boss' appointment was coming up anytime soon. She regretted now never asking for your address, with how much she'd come to like you in the time you've spent together. You brought a normalcy to her life that she's dreamed of oh so much.

And while Sweeney wasn't pretty much vocal at all towards your sudden absence, when he closed down for the day and looked out of his window, overlooking the grey London sky and dark and gloomy rooftops, he wondered where you could possibly be. What were you doing? Were you alright?

You had came into the vengeful barber's life unexpectedly and while at first Minnie's obsession with you irritated him, making his goals, his work, that much more dangerous, he couldn't help but notice your good nature. Not only towards his neighbour, even though with how strange the woman could be it was surprising in itself, but towards him, even towards your boss. It wasn't that you were naive, no, he could see in your eyes that you knew exactly how cruel and unjust this world was, and yet you still chose to be kind. Despite all the hardships he knew you were dealt by destiny, no, by other people, the biggest monsters on this earth, you still remained with your heart open to others. And he admired that. Your presence on Fleet street was like a beacon of clean light in the constant grey fog, when he sometimes glanced at the street below him and you happened to be there, he always recognized you, as if you shone more brightly than others.

The lonely man spent many a night pondering on what was it that made you occupy his mind so much, what made you so special. He still loved his wife, and his daughter, wherever she may be, that much he knew. But sometimes...sometimes when he looked at you, your face, as you were laughing with Mrs. Lovett about this or that, he could see her smile. And it was so reassuring, as if Lucy herself was sending her mark upon you, signaling to him that you were someone he needed to protect. And when he came to terms with this revelation, he swore to himself that that was exactly what he was going to do.

So of course it was no problem for him to let you spend a night in his bed. He found your drunken antics and your embarrassment the next morning quite endearing. If you would've paid more attention to him and your surroundings that morning, you would've noticed the small smirk on his face as he watched you clumsily apologize, even though he saw no reason for it. And you would've noticed the two cups of coffee, along with some painkillers standing prepared on the table near the bed. But Sweeney didn't think his actions would've driven you away from him and Mrs. Lovett like that. He knew there was nothing that he could do except wait for you to come back, although he didn't like the idea of something happening to you without him knowing it, being able to prevent it. And he didn't even want to think about the scenario that you would never be back. He saw the way you looked at him, studied him, the confusion in your eyes from the way he behaved so often and now he wanted nothing more than to tell you everything and sort things out. Even if he wasn't sure how exactly to do that. Benjamin was good with words, but Sweeney? Sweeney was all about action, because unlike Benjamin, Sweeney Todd knew just how little weight words could hold in the world.

It didn't take long for you to start missing Fleet street, with your two favourite residents, Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd. You contemplated when should you pay them a visit and how you would explain your avoidance of them, until after one night, when that became irrelevant.

It happened in the evening. You were let go from work for the day and while you were on your way home, thinking mostly about whether you had any leftovers from yesterday or if you had to cook dinner from scratch and not paying much attention to your surroundings, when you were jumped. Two men, none of which you knew, cornered you against a wall of a building along which you were walking, asking for some money. You, not wanting any more trouble than necessary, pulled out your pouch, where you kept all the change you needed, but it wasn't enough for whatever they were planning. With two figures towering at least a good head above from you, demanding you do what they say, you didn't dare look them directly in their faces, so you knew little of what they looked like. But they smelled awful and faintly of fish. When they asked to show them what more you had in your bag, yo asked them to leave you be, that you've already given them everything important you had on you. That proved to be a mistake, since one of them grabbed you roughly by the arms from behind, while the other ripped your bag from your hands and turned it upside down. You struggled to get away from the bastard's bruising grip and started calling out for help, which was another mistake. The guy that was going through your things, most of which were only daily necessities, such as your keys and whatnot, suddenly sprung up and hit you in the face, gruffly telling you to shut up, if you valued your life. It was at that point you noticed his voice was slightly slurred.

Luckily, an officer must've been patrolling nearby, or someone must've taken pity on you and called him over, it wasn't that late in the evening after all, because as soon as you heard the distinct sound of a bobby whistle, the first guy let you go while the second one hastily grabbed your notebook and both of them booked it down the street, weaving through the city's intricate alleyways. The officer quickly asked what happened and told you to stay put while he chased after them. But it wasn't even five minutes before he was back, informing you that he lost them and he asked you to accompany him to the police station to give a statement on what happened and they would see what could be done.

The next day, you showed up to work with a nasty looking black eye, without your notebook or a single penny. The police officers told you that with the limited description you provided they weren't sure how much could be done. After telling your boss what happened, he surprisingly took the matter quite seriously. Not only did you write down ever single appointment he needed to attend to in your notebook, but some quite serious and important information, codes to safes, finance tracking, different information having to do with sales and so on. He asked what police station you went to yesterday and said he would get in touch with the officers, since it wasn't impossible that the attack wasn't planned ahead and the notebook was exactly what someone was after. You didn't need or want to know anything more than that. Your boss also gave you two weeks off, to let your eye heal, commenting how it would seem weird if you accompanied him looking like that and he didn't need any more rumors being spread about him, like physically abusing his personnel. He gave you your money back, saying it was going from your next paycheck until the police got your original money back, plus some more to buy a new notebook. As incompetent as he could sometimes be, he was still a businessman, and even though his motivation for these choices was questionable, you were still glad he made them.

As soon as you were outside again, your legs immediately took you in the direction of Fleet street. Still quite shaken up after the incident, the thing you needed the most at that moment was a friend and something told you Minnie would not turn you down.

And you were not mistaken. As you took a step inside the pie shop, Mrs. Lovett's arms were around you, her worried and apologetic rambling reaching your ears as soon as they got used to the buzz of the busy establishment. As soon as the woman pulled away from you, her relieved expression turned to one of shock as she carefully cradled your cheek where the bruise was, asking "What in god's name happened?" Immediately she brought you to the back of the shop and fetched the cleanest rag, which was then promptly soaked in cold water, so that you could relieve some of the ache of the black eye. And she had you remain there until closing, spending her time between serving customers and preparing pies chatting with you. She informed you that she wasn't mad about your sudden disappearance, that she was just very worried and then she promptly asked you your address "In case you want to pull something on me like that again." she reasoned with a cheeky smile.

After Minnie closed down in the evening, you both could sit uninterrupted in the main area, with the businesswoman cleaning up here and there and re-wetting your rag. Anytime you tried to offer her help as a thank you, she would just sternly order you to sit back down and not even think about work, since you've been given 'a sick leave'. Just as she was done with cleaning and was about to head out to get rid of the dirty water, a person you were still dreading to meet walked into the room. You immediately knew who it was by the way Mrs. Lovett's eyes brightened, her face blooming into one of sweet happiness as she cooed out a greeting "Oh, Mr. Todd! Look who decided to join us today! Poor thing got mugged yesterday, can you believe it?" she shook her head, carrying her bucket out the door "So nice of you to join us, there are some pies hidden in the oven in the back for you!" she called behind her as the door clicked close after her.

There was nothing for you to do but turn around, your face heating up again, only praying Mr. Todd wouldn't pay attention to it. But to your slight surprise, he only stared intently at the black eye adorning your face, like a joke of a monocle the more posh men liked to wear when out and about. With a few quick strides, the barber was next to you, his hand under your chin, tipping your head upwards, so he could assess your wound better under the light. His face was contorted into a frown, but his eyes were nothing but gentle as he murmured "Who did this to you?" His voice was ice cold, but somehow you knew you didn't need to be scared. "I don't know." you whispered "The police are after them now." You both said nothing as you only continued to study each other.

When the sound of a door being opened could be heard, Sweeney gently let go of your chin and took a step back from you, but not quite leaving your side. Mrs. Lovett trotted happily back into the room, taking the seat across from you and looking up at her neighbour, she patted the chair beside hers. Not waiting for him to comply, which was good, because Sweeney did not move an inch from where he stood, she asked you, her expression concerned "Darling, do you think it'll be okay for you to walk home alone at this hour?"

Looking out of the window, you saw the street was getting dark. It would not take much more time for night to completely settle over the city. You felt so safe and comfortable, that you completely forgot about the passage of time. Surely there will be little to no people out at this hour. And those who will be outside roaming the streets are definitely not the kind of people you want to associate yourself with. And while you had no problem walking on the bring of darkness alone before, after yesterday's events, you couldn't help the cold shiver that ran down your back at the thought of the many alleyways you'd have to pass before getting home.

Seeing your hesitance, Mrs. Lovett placed her hand softly on yours "It's alright, love. You can stay here for the night! I'm sure there's plenty of room for one more person in the house." her smile was so reassuring, you couldn't help your own taking over your face. But you shook your head "As much as I appreciate your offer, I have to go home. The officers might need me for more questionings, it's best I don't stay out of the house too long." you explained with a small smile and got up from your chair. Surprisingly, it was Sweeney who spoke next "I'll walk you home. If you wouldn't mind, that is." he offered, his eyes flickering between your face and the table during the latter part. "Oh, Mr. Todd! Such a gentleman!" Minnie squealed adoringly, standing up as well "Trust me, love, with Mr. Todd, you're in good hands." something about the way she looked at the barber when she said that made you feel strange, but you had no reason not to believe her or the quiet man standing beside you. So you nodded and looked towards the window again "Best we head off though, I wouldn't want you to have to return when it's completely dark." you muttered, more to yourself and then looked at your companion for confirmation. The dangerous glint you caught flashing through his eyes made you shiver again, but you ignored it.

After hugging Mrs. Lovett goodbye, you were on your way. The first few minutes passed in complete silence, you had no idea what to say and Mr. Todd wasn't one for many words. Sighing, you decide to be the one to break the ice "I...I'm sorry, once again, Mr. Todd. For running out on you like that. You've done so much for me and I repaid you horribly." your gaze was set on the stone path as you apologised. For a while, the barber said nothing, which did not help your nerves at all. "Sweeney." That was the only thing he said. You whipped your head around to look at him, your mouth hanging agape in confusion. "I'm sorry?" Sweeney then looked at you, a single chuckle escaping his chest through his smirking lips. In the dim night lights of the London street, he looked possibly more attractive than ever before. "My name. I feel like we don't have to keep up such formalities, since you've spent a night in my bed already."

You couldn't look him in the eyes anymore, your face heating up. "You make it sound like something much more serious." you pouted. He chuckled again. This was the most you've heard him talk or just express himself in any way since you've known him. "And it wasn't? I don't let just anyone into my bed, you know." It was clear as day he was enjoying this. But his words held an underlying meaning, one which was much more deeper than the lighthearted teasing. Sweeney slowed into a stop and you followed suit beside him. The last street lamp was now behind him, leaving his face covered mostly in shadows. And yet you could see his eyes, vulnerable in a way he probably hasn't been in a long, long time, you could feel his intense gaze on your face, studying your every small reaction. "What are you saying?" you breathed out, your heart in your throat. Sweeney took a step closer "What I'm saying is that you've grown to be quite important to me. After that night..." he stopped, searching for the right words to continue "I realised many things. And I've realised...that I want to keep you close. To protect you. To know you and to allow myself to be known by you. If you'll let me, that is." and he slowly reached for your hand, holding it in both of his oh so gently. "Do you deem me worthy of knowing your heart? Your soul?"

You could feel your breath hitch in your throat as you were overwhelmed by sudden conflicting emotions. But the one that stood out from all of them was... "As long as you'll deem me worthy of knowing yours." you replied in almost a whisper. And with those words, that one sentence, it was as if the tension in the air disappeared all at once. Sweeney stood beside you once more, this time offering you his arm to take and after you've linked your arm through his, he continued to escort you home. Not just as an acquaintance, not as a friend...but perhaps not yet as a lover. But there was time for all of that. Right now, there was the chilly London night air, you and him. And you could figure out the details, such as breaking the news to Minnie, or discovering why exactly there was a trapdoor behind the barber chair, some other time. Tonight was just for you.

[berryispunk]

Happy Accidents

pairing: Oberyn Martell x trans! reader

summary: a handsome and mysterious stranger enters the coffee shop you’re working at. (modern day AU)

tags: meet-cute!!, fluff, compliments, no physical description of reader, no smut

notes: This is for the secret Santa of @pedrostories ! It was truly a challenge but I hope I did decent. My giftee is @crowandmousewritingco I hope you like it 🥹💛 this is unbeta’d. We die with the sinking ship :)

It is a crazy busy day at the cafe. Nothing unusual for this time of year. When people are so lost in the Christmas preparations, too focused on their own misery to be nice to employees, time flies. You always tell yourself you don’t care. After all it's nothing personal you try to remind yourself. But today, when the fifth person yells at you that they ordered cappuccino without caffeine and not with it something inside of you snaps. You glare at the man who’s dressed in a suit that looks like it costs more than you make in a month.

“Sir, we’re all just doing our job. I am sorry if my colleague made a mistake with your order, but this doesn’t give you any right to be so rude,” you throw at him, your voice threateningly calm causing every pair of eyes on you and for a split second you regret even bothering to open your mouth.

That’s until the man answers, a dismissive look in his eyes as he scoffs “I want to speak to your manager.”

“I am in charge today, so if there’s something you want to discuss feel free, sir, ” you triumph and for a moment it feels like winning, like you’ve got the upper hand. Not that there would be a prize for it anyway.

The man musters you for a moment longer, anger and vanity seeping out of him, tinting the whole atmosphere until suddenly another man steps in, dressed in slacks and a really deep v-neck button down in mustard yellow.

The off white winter coat just casually thrown over his right shoulder, holding it with his big left hand, on every finger a gold ring, each one of it more splendid than the other.

He’s standing really tall, his confidence overshadowing the energy of the suit guy by far. His dark hair, a stark contrast to his golden skin tone, is perfectly trimmed and styled.

You caught yourself staring at him way longer than what would be considered decent as he winks at you and turns his attention back to the suit guy.

“Sir, please step back so the rest of us can make an order as well”, he purrs in a really deep voice. His voice is calm and calculated, but something else swings in the way he talks.

Authority.

The other man frowns a bit at the dark haired man, but instead of protesting he nods, takes his allegedly wrong order and flees the cafe causing the man in front of you to smile satisfied and his attention shifting back to you.

“Sorry,” he says almost apologetically, way softer in the way he talks than moments ago. “Some people just don’t know any manners.”

His comment causes you to snort and he gives you an honest smile back, a warm one that almost makes your heart flutter.

Fuck. He’s attractive.

“Nothing new, especially not during the holidays”, you answer.

“So, what can I get you ?” you ask in trained professionalism.

“I’d like a big black coffee to go, please. And maybe…” he drifts off, taking a step closer to the cake display. “A lemon cheesecake muffin as well.”

You nod in response, packing the muffin in a small paper bag and starting to prepare his coffee.

Your back is turned to him, but you’re really aware that his eyes still are on you. Maybe even checking you out and the thought simultaneously amuses and flusters you.

You think of the way this man handles himself, the way he’s so confident but also so kind should be a paradox. Usually people this confident are cocky and don’t care the slightest about employees like you. But he seems different. In a good way.

As you’re finishing up his coffee order, you decide to ask for his name. Usually you don’t do this here, but you think it’s a sneaky way to know more about this mysterious good looking man.

“Which name can I write on your cup ?” you ask with a professional smile.

“Full name or just my first name?” he asks back while he plays with one of his rings.

“Whatever you prefer,” you reply and he smiles in response as he leans a bit more towards you above the counter.

His gaze on the coffee cup in your hand before his eyes meet yours.

His eyes are dark brown, warm and welcoming.

The smile that still decorates his face reaches his eyes and causes small wrinkles around them.

It’s an honest smile, one that is really rare especially during the holidays but also incredibly flirty.

“Oberyn Martell.” he finally replies. “That’s my name,” he adds and you scribble it onto the coffee cup.

“Okay, Oberyn Martell,” you repeat and let the name ring in your ears, tasting the way it sounds in your own voice.

“Cash or card?” you ask as you place the paper bag and coffee cup on the counter, typing his order in your cash register system.

“Card,” he replies and hands you his credit card, a black american express. You push the payment device wordlessly closer to him and wait for the confirming beeping sound.

“You know you’ve got a beautiful smile” he smirks, causing your cheeks to get hot as your eyes meet again.

“Excuse me?” you ask to reinsure you heard it right while the heat creeps further up your face.

He chuckles cockily and repeats, a bit lower this time.

“I said, you’ve got a really beautiful smile”, his eyes wandering to your lips before they find your eyes again.

You swallow for a moment before you’re able to mumble a “Thank you.”

He shakes his head slightly, clearly enjoying getting you flustered that easily. The smirk never leaving his face as he takes his order from the counter.

“So, can we quit the chit-chat and I ask you for your number instead?” he asks, like it’s the most normal thing ever and not absolutely crazy considering the fact you two just met by accident in the cafe you’re working at.

You blink in disbelief about the absurdity of the moment before your brain kicks back in action.

“My phone number?” you ask back, clearly still puzzled by his bluntness. “I–”

You try to come back with something, anything, to let him know that this is out of line. That it’s too fast, too early, too much. But you can’t.

All you can focus on is this handsome stranger in front of you and the blush on your cheeks.

You finally snap out of your trance-like state and write down your number on a sticky note.

He takes it from you, making sure his fingers brush over the back of your hand as he gives you another charming smile.

“Thank you, beautiful,” he purrs and just as you thought you’re finally able to function like a normal human again, you start giggling like a teenager.

What the hell is wrong with you.

He still holds your hand and place a soft, feathery like kiss on the back of it, his eyes locked on you as he whispers

“I’ll call you as soon as I can, that’s a promise,” he smirks and as he’s in the movement of leaving he adds

“By the way, nice pin,” pointing to the little trans flag enamel pin on your work apron.

Usually people never notice it or just don’t say anything about it. Either because they don’t know what it is or simply because they don’t care but something about the way he noticed and pointed it out makes you giddy.

“Thank you,” you retort and smile genuinely at him.

“I need one of those with the bi-flag. If you have any recommendations where to get those, let me know” he winks and suddenly this man, who’s not even way too attractive for you, is also part of the LGBTQIA+ community and it makes your heart flutter even more.

“Will do,” you snicker. “Bye, Oberyn.”

“Bye, beautiful. See you soon.” he answers with a smile so bright it’s illuminating his whole being.

And as quickly as he came in the shop, as fast he vanishes out of it and leaves you alone with blushed cheeks, a racing heart and a million questions on your mind.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hey ❤

i was wonderimg if i could request a fic where the roles are reversed and reader proposes to eddie.. (maybe a little optional scene where steve and robin help the reader pick out a ring?) and he feels so loved, Hes so giggly with butterflies and loves his ring

All their friends and wayne are around and supporting them and congratulating them

Um, absolutely! I love this idea!! Thank you so much for the request, lovely!!

Eddie x gender neutral!reader

You knew that you wanted to propose to Eddie six months into your in your relationship, but decided against it since it was probably too early. Once you had reached a year and your relationship had become more serious, you had started looking for rings with Steve and Robin’s help.

You had looked for months, but nothing seemed right. They were all too flashy or expensive and you wanted the ring to be perfect. Something that he would have picked out for himself. And Eddie had a very specific taste so it was definitely difficult, but you were going to keep looking until you found what you were looking for.

You entered the last store of the day, feeling hopeless with Steve and Robin in tow. You were glad to have them help you make such a big decision, but you felt like they didn’t understand Eddie the way you did. Robin’s suggestions were too shiny and Steve’s were too simple. You needed something that screamed “Eddie” but kept coming up empty handed.

“What about this one?” Robin asked as you looked over the very sad options.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, turning your head to see what she was pointing at and you stopped. It was black with a silver Celtic knot that went around the whole band. It was perfect. It was Eddie.

“It’s perfect, Rob,” you rested your hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“Can we see this one?” Robin asked the employee and he pulled it out from behind the glass and handed it Robin who pulled Steve over, putting the ring on his finger to see what it looked like.

“I do,” Steve told you dramatically and you just rolled your eyes as he removed it from his ring and handed it back to the associate.

“I’ll take it,” you told him and five minutes later, you had the ring and a knot in your stomach. You were sure that he would say yes but that didn’t mean that you weren’t nervous.

You had told Eddie that you were having everyone over to celebrate his new job, but really it was just for the proposal. You also had Wayne keep the ring safe since you didn’t really trust that anyone else wouldn’t lose it.

Everyone had arrived sooner than you had hoped and your heartbeat quickened as the proposal set in. You were going to ask Eddie to marry you. To spend the rest of his life with you.

Soon, the party was in full swing and you had a chat with Wayne who was trying to calm you down. He had always liked you and considered you to be part of family so when you asked for his permission to marry Eddie, it was an easy yes.

“He’s going to say yes, everything is going to be great,” he gave your back a pat.

“Do you have the ring?” You asked.

“Right here,” he held up the red velvet box and put it in your hands, resting his on top of yours. “He’s very lucky to have you,” he told you, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’ve been waiting for someone like you for a long time and I couldn’t be more grateful that you’re part of this family. Now go propose to my boy.”

You wiped your tears away and headed to the center of the room with your glass of champagne where you were going to make a toast. You had everyone take a glass and pulled Eddie to stand beside you.

“I’d like to make a toast,” you announced and everyone was cheering you on, all of them being in the loop except your unsuspecting boyfriend.

“Eddie,” you started. “I couldn’t be more proud of you in this moment. You’re finally doing what you’ve always wanted and I couldn’t be more happy for you than I am right now. I have loved you for a long time, even before we got together. The moment we got together, I knew that I didn’t want to spend my life with anyone else. So Eddie,” you set down both of your glasses and got down on one knee, opening the box. “Will you marry me?”

Eddie let out a gasp and tears welled up in his eyes that he was trying to wipe away. He couldn’t believe it. He had been wanting to propose to you and just couldn’t make it work because of his nerves. Now he didn’t have to. You were taking the reins on this one and he couldn’t have been more grateful.

“Yes,” he smiled, pulling you to your feet. You pulled the ring from the box and put it on his finger as everyone erupted in cheers. He pulled you in for a long hug then sealed your engagement with a kiss and he couldn’t wait to walk down the aisle and vow that he’d love you in sickness and health until death did you part.

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

The Jackass Guys Working in Fast Food HC’s!

Warnings: Suggestive content, crude language, drug use, tampering with food (and general bad food service practices)

An: This fic was largely inspired by this spot the guys did for the Arby’s Action Sports Awards, a concept which still eludes me to this day…

The awards show that invited the jackass guys to host had this sponsorship deal with some fast food company,

And, as written in tiny print on the contract, the guys ended up getting roped into something they’d never thought they’d have to deal with:

Working in food service.

Johnny

Given his position as the leader of the group, Johnny is kinda the manager by default

Partially because he’s so charismatic and partially because he just has pretty privilege so customers can’t get too mad at him

So when the drive through window gets stuck, guess who’s running orders outside?

He was the most responsible one and often takes up the job of cleaning up the dining area,

Even though he did have a tendency to clean off tables while people were eating or sweep a little too close to the patrons,

“Uh, scuse’ me, ma’am…Feet up, please.” And they never seemed to mind!

In fact, anytime someone got their order messed up, guess who they send in?

“I really am sorry for the inconvenience, sir,” Knoxville shoveled about twenty apple pies into a bag as turned to speak over his shoulder to the pissed off customer

“But I just wanted the order I paid for-”

“Shh…Just between you and me.” Johnny nudged the bag closer to him with a wink, “Go ahead- take it! I gotcha.”

And he actually took it.

Bam

“What’re you- some kinda wussy?” Bam had a tendency to shit talk customer’s orders, often pressuring them to size up,

“C’mon, be a man! You know what, dude? I’m just gonna put you down for a large combo…”

God forbid a customer is rude to him because holy shit. Bam is a master the guerrilla food terrorisim!

He has 100% spit in a guys onion rings because he yelled at him over the drive thru

And you bet he served them with a smile

Even though Bam has that whole line cook look, he’s maybe the worst person you want to have working at your restaurant.

It’s pretty rare that he gets sent out to register duty (due to the fact it takes him forever to make change)

But when he does, he just looks so disheveled from working in the kitchen

I’m talking condiments on his apron, pieces of meat just…hanging off of him, which obviously raised a couple eyebrows

“I mean- I was in the kitchen. I was workin’ hard back there! Can’t you tell?”

Steve-O

Steve couldn’t help but grin to himself when the angry customer over the drive through sarcastically asked him if he was ‘on something’

“Yes, sir- I am.”

Completely opposite to Bam, Steve is the closest thing they have to a model employee due to his experience working shitty jobs

If you order a four piece nugget, and he’s making it, count on getting a fifth one every time because he knows he would be pumped if he got one.

Point is, Steve is the fast food employee everyone loves, and that extends to his work at the counter

When all the guys are hustling to get orders out on time during a rush, guess who’s out there doing clown tricks to keep customers entertained?

Doing backflips off of the counter and juggling condiment packages to keep people happy people while whistling that one circus theme

“If you like the condiment stuff, wait till you see what I do with the drinks!”

Chris

“Welcome to Arby’s! Can I tempt you with my- I mean, our meat?”

Him and Steve have competitions as to who can say the most out of pocket thing over the drive thru speaker. He’s in the lead (for obvious reasons).

One of the best ones he came up with was when he was told to advertise the new dessert offerings,

“Are you sure you don’t wanna try one of our pies? The cream is delicious.”

Him and Steve are inseparable, usually spending more time fucking around in the kitchen than actually preparing food

So when, in the middle of a rush, the mayo gun Steve was using gets jammed and (despite his very skillful efforts to fix it) explodes all over him, Chris has a lot to say,

“Oh my god-” He turned to where his buddy was standing there, stunned, “Steve. Is this your man-aise?”

The customers could hear their laughter from the kitchen.

And speaking of Steve, Chris came up with a few tricks of his own to pull when he’s on register duty

Like walking out with two burgers stuffed in the top of his apron like boobs,

“Can I take anybody’s order?” He looked around the restaurant like nothing was amiss as he adjusted the twins.

Ryan

“Welcome to Arby’s, where the world’s a better place…” Ryan sighed, reading off the drive thru script for the fiftieth time that day,

“Whaddya want?”

Ryan hates dealing with customers and, in the middle of a rush, went out for a “smoke break”, which really meant he was going to hide in the freezer until his shift was nearly over

“Really, Ry?” Bam raised an eyebrow at the ice crystals in his beard, which only tipped him off that something was amiss because it was June.

Kinda similar to how Steve and Chris have their drive thru routine, him and Bam tag team on food sabotage, only Ryan’s arguably less gross

Like the worst he’s ever done was take a sip out of a guy’s milkshake before he gave it to him.

It isn’t that hard to believe given the fact he introduced the guys to using “God’s Tongs”

(if you don’t know, is a nice way to say picking up food with your hands)

In fact, everyone remembers that one day a customer was complaining to him that their burger arrived without a bun, holding out the bare patty to show him,

“Alright- I gotcha.” Ryan took a few steps back, grabbing a top bun from the back, and he just chucked the thing at the guy!

That top bun landed perfectly on top of that burger.

[pascaloverx]

Rewrite The Stars

Chapter One

Summary: One photo changes your whole life, when you accidentally bump into a celebrity and the world starts to believe that you are a couple.

preview chapter two

The night ends up being good, taking away the pain in your head that doesn't seem to go away. Serving at Pedro Pascal's table is much calmer than you thought it would be. You just need to control yourself so you don't ask for an autograph or over-treat him. Oscar Isaac is also here, having dinner with him. You believe they are just friends having dinner together but you don't want to assume anything.

"I don't know what you did, but the manager is calling you. And I'm telling you, he's in a horrible mood." Your coworker speaks close to your ear and you feel butterflies in your stomach. It can only be about the incident with Pascal. You prepare to hear some nonsense.

"If I don't get out of there in five minutes, rescue me. I feel like even my third generation will be insulted today." You say looking at your colleague as if you know you got screwed. She nods her head positively with a look of empathy. You head towards your manager who is standing near the back door, right where the whole incident happened. You're officially screwed.

"Can you explain to me how you cause an accident with a celebrity on the same day that I made it clear that nothing could go wrong?" Your manager says, while you are confused.

"Sir, as much as it seems like it wasn't me who caused the accident. It was a coincidence, nothing more than that." You speak softly, trying to stay calm.

"There are no coincidences in the world of customer service. This is a renowned restaurant, not a corner diner. My team must be impeccable. Your mediocrity offends me to the point that I won't even ask for your advance notice. Remove your things from my establishment and go to HR as soon as possible." Your former manager speaks, with a tone of contempt.

"You are being unfair, I did my best to carry out my tasks with mastery." You speak almost out of despair. This job is all you have.

"What I am or am not is none of your business. Oh, and don't use this work as a reference, I will make it my personal goal to ruin any job opportunity you have." It was at that moment that his emotional shock turned to anger. Resigning is bad, but getting in the way of having another job is too much.

"So if I have nothing left to lose, I'm going to take this opportunity to be very realistic." You speak losing the last bit of control you have over yourself.

"And what are you going to do about it?” He asks, almost mocking your face. You then take the jug of orange juice and throw it at his head.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll leave with the rest of my dignity." You say, turning around and noticing that people in the restaurant have noticed your disagreement with the manager. Everyone's eyes were on the situation you had just been in and you felt embarrassed. You even wondered where Mr. Pascal was, since you hadn't seen him.

"Are you looking for me?" Mr. Pascal speaks behind you, and you jump discretely scared.

"Do you have a habit of surprising others unexpectedly?" You say, composing yourself and walking towards the employee area. Surprisingly Mr. Pascal accompanies you.

"It's not a habit of mine but I think it's happening a lot when it comes to our dates with each other. I apologize if I'm being intrusive." Mr. Pascal speaks sincerely in your tone of voice.

"You don't need to apologize, I may have been rude. This night suddenly turned into chaos." You say it, trying to be as subtle as possible, but the truth is that you're screwed and you can't even hide it.

"I witnessed the scene with your old boss. I must say that despite the waste of a beautiful orange juice, he deserved every drop of that juice." Mr. Pascal speaks, almost containing his laughter, and you feel happy to amuse someone that night.

"Do you need anything, I still work here until I take off my uniform." You say, imagining that he followed you because he needed something.

"Actually, I came to give you something. I know it doesn't make up for your dismissal but I think you You deserve it for your effort." He hands you a piece of paper, more specifically a check.

"Sir. No need to give me a check for the inconvenience, seriously. At the end of the day, this job wasn't the best." You say, trying to return the check but Mr. Pascal doesn't accept it.

"Take it as a tip for causing all this and for you getting fired because of me." Mr. Pascal says, forcing the check into my hands. You smile thinking that you are incredibly lucky of being in the presence of a celebrity that you like but that your boss made you feel as if you were insignificant.

"Thank you, sir. It was an honor to meet you." You say, taking the check and putting it on your uniform, not seeing the amount or anything. Mr. Pascal takes your hand lightly and you feel as if the world stops for that split second in which he held your hand.

"It was my pleasure, I hope that if we meet again, your life will be in a better situation." Mr. Pascal speaks with an unusual kindness, his smile could light up a village but you could only focus on the fact that he was lightly holding your hand. Your hand in his and his hand in yours.

"Good evening, Mr. Pascal." You say it as soon as you can come to your senses. He nods as if accepting my goodnight and then he returns to his table. And you return to your reality.

[cepalliumtm]

Glow in the Ocean 0

CW for entire fic: yandere tendencies, thalassophobia (fic takes place underwater), claustrophobia (fic takes place in a submarine), cannibalism, blood, obsessive tendencies, no use of y/n

Other info: fic is mostly written in diary style/script style, with bits of prose in between.

This will be an interesting experiment. I’ve been thinking about CC posting more longform shtuff here since I don’t know what else to post here. If anyone likes more of this, I’d be happy to post more of it.

This in particular will be the expanded version of a oneshot that I did for a collab on Quotev. Check it out, you’ll probably find some other creators that you’ll enjoy! Unfortunately I haven’t had all the parts done, so updates will be pretty slow. Hopefully I’ll be finished with it sooner than later but don’t expect much from me.

Prologue

Monday, 3:20p.m.

Dear Diary,

Despite being an official employee at Miralabs, I sure as hell don't feel like one.

How long has it been now? I'm still pretty green, and it still feels like I have yet to adjust to some of the employees. Yes, Boss is still a bitch, and once again I got blamed for something I didn't do (it's not my fault Clumsy accidentally spilled some of the samples RIGHT as I'm going by).

Why am I worried about this on my break? I don't know. I guess hiding in the storage room really helps with clearing my head. Sad how it happens.

I think I'll be fine, if I just breathe and take it in.

Oh, right, today the list will finally be announced! Just to recap: Every now and again there are team assignments that get to visit the underwater labs for their more… secretive experiments. Now most of the time the same people get announced due to experience and honestly I'm not really expecting much. However, during the last meeting Boss said that if we were lucky enough, we could get the chance to shadow one of the less classified projects to get a bit of experience under our belt.

Now, whether or not I'll be picked is a different story… again, Boss is still a bitch. I swear to god she has some kind of vendetta against me or something, I didn't even DO anything to her. It's not my fault she has a stick up her bu-

…

Okay, Imma go now. I'll be back. Standby.

-.-

Putting away your little notebook back into your bag, you stand outside in embarrassment after getting caught by one of the janitors. They stare at you, possibly with confusion and definitely with disappointment. You bow your head, squeaking an "I'm sorry!" before scattering back to your workstation. You're hoping that no one would take notice of your little stunt, or that he wouldn't say anything to your managers.

If you're being honest with yourself, you're starting to regret your life choices. You know that you're supposed to act more professional, but sometimes it feels like you're just going through the motions. The point of this job is to get a handle of lab work, form connections, get better projects, something about making the system work for you or whatnot. But well, so far within these past few months, it feels like no progress has been made. So far the only thing you've seemed to accomplish is giving your boss another reason to scrutinize you. (Thank goodness it wasn't on grounds to fire you; you'd be devastated and out of work for a long time.)

It's not all that bad. Despite the running around and menial tasks; message taking and cleaning up equipment, you still find some value in it. It's not a lot, but you've managed to talk to some of the researchers about their projects and get insight on their thought processes. It's something you take with you everywhere you go. It's why you have that little notebook with you in the first place.

As you head to your next station, you overhear some of the other people talking about the list. Right. The list that's supposed to go out tonight, after the end of today's work meeting. It's something you're mildly curious about, considering that only a handful of people get selected at all. Albeit you're heavily aware of the last attempt a trip to one of these underwater labs ended up online as a tragedy. You can still remember the headline in your head.

So, it's surprising that after just a couple of months they would try again. But you understand why. There are some staff that stay behind inside those labs; maintaining the facilities, focusing on their research. There's bound to have a shortage in supplies soon, so someone would have to go down there and deliver.

But now, after a couple of months of supply only trips with no casualties, Miralabs decided that it would be safe for an expanded crew as well as a research team to once again take one week excursions to their underwater lab. And most of the newcomers are definitely excited to take a part in one of them. Most, including you.

Now is it likely you'll actually be picked? With how you've been treated and how your supervisor thinks of you? Not a chance. But either way, it’s the one thing that you're looking forward to by the end of the day.

"Hey Greenie!"

That and actually ending your day.

-.-

6:02p.m.

Speaker: Okay, everyone settle down! We're going to be starting this meeting quickly. I know that you're all tired, but this is important if you want to end the day as soon as possible. So, let's begin, shall we?

Now first things first, some things that we all have to take note:

…

I know that I should be paying attention to whatever announcements are going on, but honestly it's really just a couple of housekeeping things that I'm used to. You know, making sure the labs are clean and that we're actually working. I don't think they'll be picking on us yet, but you never know.

Boss: If I may speak on the issue please?

And… here we go.

Honestly I can see her eyeing me as she gives out her stupid speech. What's her problem with me, seriously? If she could just get off my back, maybe she could sleep better at night or something. Listen, I'm not the one slacking off here… if she could just look at herself in the mirror then I would have more respect for her. But you know how it is.

It's so obvious she's calling me out. She's literally coughing for my attention. I'm not gonna hear the end of it when we're left alone.

After that most of meeting was pretty banal. I could tell that some of the others are checking out as much as I am, some are even dozing off as we speak. There are a couple of new projects here and there, and they're pretty interesting if you're into, you know, studying plant biology for the millionth time, or playing with chemicals for the billionth time. Obviously I know why only the boring projects get introduced in the general meeting and the cooler stuff is just codenames for something else, but I mean, it's not like I'm going to get assigned to any of them yet.

Speaking of, it makes no sense that I'm technically a lab assistant but I feel like I'm just a glorified coffee maker. Makes no sense, huh? You'd think a dignified institution that also has a lot of well… biology projects would mean that you shouldn't introduce the chance of unexpected variables like coffee spills, but I guess that's what happens when you forget about the non-lab people that walk around.

Oh! We're finally on to the topic of the day.

Speaker: And last but not least… we have one final announcement. I know that you all are excited about the reopening of the underwater lab off the coast of the city. Now, it has come to my attention from last meeting about the worry of any… incident that could happen on the way there. However, I assure you that after a couple of tests here and there, that we have worked out the kinks and that it's perfectly safe to go.

[Whispers louden among the crowd.]

Speaker: (clears throat). Settle down, settle down! Okay, so as it stands, I will call out the names that will be a part of the new research team. Since Aeviin is the one that submitted the research topic and chose the team, he will be the one in charge. Now, here are the names he has chosen for this project…

Ah, here we go. There is no way in hell that-

…

…

…

I think I just heard my name.

…

…

Speaker: If your name has been called, please stand up!

[The chosen stand up, albeit a bit slowly.]

Speaker: Now, a round of applause for our underwater research team!

[Someone starts clapping slowly, followed by several others that begin to morph into a tremendous applause, for well, a group of around forty people]

Speaker: For those that are still standing, I will be sending you an email regarding your tasks and equipment that you will need. Since this excursion will last a week, I suggest you pack accordingly. Thank you very much, and I hope to see you all at launch! And that concludes this month's meeting! Thank you all for attending.

-.-

9:03p.m.

Subj: Acceptance

Congratulations! You've been selected for our underwater program! You and a select group of candidates have been chosen to monitor our underwater site for one week.

As a reminder, your responsibility as a Recorder and Data Analyst is as follows:

Collect observations, records, and other data from various sources for analysis

Conduct data analysis to identify patterns, anomalies, etc.

Interpret data and make predictions

The Employee Rules and Guidelines for the main site will also apply here, so do your best to work as if it's another day on your site. You will be responsible for turning in your reports at the end of the week when you return. Failure to do so will result in consequences, including but not limited to termination.

Make sure to prepare for what is needed for a one week trip. We advise to bring extra clothing. If you have any other questions, feel free to contact your supervisor for further information.

Thank you! The Sub-Miracle Team

-.-

Wednesday, 3:00p.m.

Dear Diary,

I honestly can't believe that I was actually chosen for this assignment. Tbh I didn't expect my bitchy boss to bring up my name for the list of recommendations. I mean, yeah I kinda have a lame job (I wish I was doing the more TECHNICAL stuff, but I guess that's what happens when you don't pay much attention to the lab classes at school) but it's still amazing that I get to go to one of the offshore sites this early in the game.

I talked to one of my coworkers about it and he said that not a lot of people (at least on our site) actually gets access to go there. Since we're the more surface level stuff I guess it means our projects tend to be the more boring ones, but I mean I'm not really complaining much about it (I just wish I didn't feel like I have eyes hovering over me whenever I record my data)

Honestly though I think I really got the job because I'm the only one that actually gets the reports in on time. Who knows though.

I don't even know if I want to go now that I got some time to think about about it. I know, I packed all my things and all, but it's pretty nerve-wracking to say the least. I mean, I'm going on board on a Mirasub. A Mirasub! What people would say is one of the sturdiest vehicles in the world (which is funny to say, considering that no one would really say that about a SUBMARINE of all things). Not to mention, somehow I got picked to be a part of Aeviin Typhoon's team. Which, I may not know a lot about, but what I DO know that he is a big deal in the company AND the biology world.

Really feeling a little nervous, because I'm pretty sure I KNOW who's coming with me. Like, since this is kind of a prestigious thing because it's not just Mr. Typhoon that'll be there, the other people are practically the big hotshots of the company. And I have a chance to actually WORK with them?

Just… don't mess up. The biggest thing is to NOT mess up. Make sure everything is all in place, and make sure you actually do your reports without procrastinating and making up data on the spot (did I really just say that I swear I don't do that all the time). I think I can handle it. Maybe. I don't know. I'm not even sure that I'm ready for this-

Okay, it looks like my roommate caught me up again. They have a good point. Fine, I'll get some sleep. I just feel a bit worked up and a bit worried.

I did look up the article once again, and ngl I think I'm creeping myself out about something that they said would never happen. It's not gonna do me any good to keep that in my head. Look, I'll be fine. I'll be fine.

I'll be fine… right?

-.-

Breaking news! Miralabs Finally Opens up Underwater Lab after Last Year's Tragedy

An unexpected turn of events after what could be considered one of the most mysterious tragedies that have happened over the past decade of underwater exploration, Miralabs have officially confirmed their reopening up of their offshore underwater lab happening this week on Friday.

We have talked to both the CEO as well as the main researcher, Aeviin Typhoon for their take on this endeavor to reassure the public that this would be a perfectly safe venture.

"We're still trying to recover from last year's unfortunate events," remarks the CEO. "It was tragic what happened to Laeva and I wish her family well for this news. However, we must move beyond this tragedy, and the fear of the unknown. For that will hinder us from truly advancing in this society."

Typhoon adds in, "I want to be a part of something special. This has been a dream come true for me, to finally be one of the greats that ventured into the unknown and discovered something new. And nothing will stop me from achieving that greatness. I believe that my research will be something revolutionary, and if it means that I have to leave the safety of my own home and down into the deep sea, I will nobly pursue it."

Aeviin Typhoon has been a part of many projects that some may have heard of before, such as the discovery of new life that has never been considered even possible. Mythical beings that are now in our aquariums for the public to view. Creatures that have properties that could help in curing ailments in diseases, chemicals that can fight certain alien bacteria, and the like. You can find out more on the website Miralabs.com/aeviin-typhoon for more.