#which is NOT TO SAY that the employees were at fault I don’t think it was clear to anyone how big of an event this was going to be

[cookinguptales]

So I’ve been enjoying the Disney vs. DeSantis memes as much as anyone, but like. I do feel like a lot of people who had normal childhoods are missing some context to all this.

I was raised in the Bible Belt in a fairly fundie environment. My parents were reasonably cool about some things, compared to the rest of my family, but they certainly had their issues. But they did let me watch Disney movies, which turned out to be a point of major contention between them and my other relatives.

See, I think some people think this weird fight between Disney and fundies is new. It is very not new. I know that Disney’s attempts at inclusion in their media have been the source of a lot of mockery, but what a lot of people don’t understand is that as far as actual company policy goes, Disney has actually been an industry leader for queer rights. They’ve had policies assuring equal healthcare and partner benefits for queer employees since the early 90s.

I’m not sure how many people reading this right now remember the early 90s, but that was very much not industry standard. It was a big deal when Disney announced that non-married queer partners would be getting the same benefits as the married heterosexual ones.

Like — it went further than just saying that any unmarried partners would be eligible for spousal benefits. It straight-up said that non-same-sex partners would still need to be married to receive spousal benefits, but because same-sex partners couldn’t do that, proof that they lived together as an established couple would be enough.

In other words, it put long-term same-sex partners on a higher level than opposite-sex partners who just weren’t married yet. It put them on the exact same level as heterosexual married partners.

They weren’t the first company ever to do this, but they were super early. And they were certainly the first mainstream “family-friendly” company to do it.

Conservatives lost their damn minds.

Protests, boycotts, sermons, the whole nine yards. I can’t tell you how many books about the evils of Disney my grandmother tried to get my parents to read when I was a kid.

When we later moved to Florida, I realized just how many queer people work at Disney — because historically speaking, it’s been a company that has guaranteed them safety, non-discrimination, and equal rights. That’s when I became aware of their unofficial “Gay Days” and how Christians would show up from all over the country to protest them every year. Apparently my grandmother had been upset about these days for years, but my parents had just kind of ignored her.

Out of curiosity, I ended up reading one of the books my grandmother kept leaving at our house. And friends — it’s amazing how similar that (terrible, poorly written) rhetoric was to what people are saying these days. Disney hires gay pedophiles who want to abuse your children. Disney is trying to normalize Satanism in our beautiful, Christian America. 

Just tons of conspiracy theories in there that ranged from “a few bad things happened that weren’t actually Disney’s fault, but they did happen” to “Pocahontas is an evil movie, not because it distorts history and misrepresents indigenous life, but because it might teach children respect for nature. Which, as we all know, would cause them all to become Wiccans who believe in climate change.”

Like — please, take it from someone who knows. This weird fight between fundies and Disney is not new. This is not Disney’s first (gay) rodeo. These people have always believed that Disney is full of evil gays who are trying to groom and sexually abuse children.

The main difference now is that these beliefs are becoming mainstream. It’s not just conservative pastors who are talking about this. It’s not just church groups showing up to boycott Gay Day. Disney is starting to (reluctantly) say the quiet part out loud, and so are the Republicans. Disney is publicly supporting queer rights and announcing company-supported queer events and the Republican Party is publicly calling them pedophiles and enacting politically driven revenge.

This is important, because while this fight has always been important in the history of queer rights, it is now being magnified. The precedent that a fight like this could set is staggering. For better or for worse, we live in a corporation-driven country. I don’t like it any more than you do, and I’m not about to defend most of Disney’s business practices. But we do live in a nation where rights are largely tied to corporate approval, and the fact that we might be entering an age where even the most powerful corporations in the country are being banned from speaking out in favor of rights for marginalized people… that’s genuinely scary.

Like… I’ll just ask you this. Where do you think we’d be now, in 2023, if Disney had been prevented from promising its employees equal benefits in 1994? That was almost thirty years ago, and look how far things have come. When I looked up news articles for this post from that era, even then journalists, activists, and fundie church leaders were all talking about how a company of Disney’s prominence throwing their weight behind this movement could lead to the normalization of equal protections in this country.

The idea of it scared and thrilled people in equal parts even then. It still scares and thrills them now.

I keep seeing people say “I need them both to lose!” and I get it, I do. Disney has for sure done a lot of shit over the years. But I am begging you as a queer exvangelical to understand that no. You need Disney to win. You need Disney to wipe the fucking floor with these people.

Right now, this isn’t just a fight between a giant corporation and Ron DeSantis. This is a fight about the right of corporations to support marginalized groups. It’s a fight that ensures that companies like Disney still can offer benefits that a discriminatory government does not provide. It ensures that businesses much smaller than Disney can support activism.

Hell, it ensures that you can support activism.

The fight between weird Christian conspiracy theorists and Disney is not new, because the fight to prevent any tiny victory for marginalized groups is not new. The fight against the normalization of othered groups is not new.

That’s what they’re most afraid of. That each incremental victory will start to make marginalized groups feel safer, that each incremental victory will start to turn the tide of public opinion, that each incremental victory will eventually lead to sweeping law reform.

They’re afraid that they won’t be able to legally discriminate against us anymore.

So guys! Please. This fight, while hilarious, is also so fucking important. I am begging you to understand how old this fight is. These people always play the long game. They did it with Roe and they’re doing it with Disney.

We have! To keep! Pushing back!

[revolant]

So I think what I’ve learned here today is to always plan extra time beyond what the book event page says but I came, I saw, I got my book and left because an hour (ish) into the signing and there were still over 100 people in line in front of me (#170 something) rip

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> smut, manhandling, words -> 1.7K

abstract -> “Always used to getting what you want don't you?”

hongjoong’s pov

“Are you sure you want to go to a heat hotel?” Seonghwa asked me and I didn’t know what else to do… “You’re gonna regret it,” Yeosang added. “I don’t want her to feel like she needs to help me… I don’t want to force her” I said and they seemed to understand. 

“She’s already accepted you both… besides she doesn’t mind helping us,” Wooyoung said and I felt like I had to just wait… for whatever reason.

“Hongjoong, are you ready!” I heard as I saw y/n now ready to take me to spend my heat with a stranger… 

“Don’t come back saying you regret it” Seonghwa warned and I think I would regret it either way… but for now I had to go to that stupid hotel.

They took me away and it felt weird not having y/n with me… she won’t be with me for a week. I wouldn’t see the apartment for a whole week. I then saw a tiger hybrid like Seonghwa with her fur white but a bit duller than his… enter the room. 

I could smell her heat, but for some reason, it didn’t push me further into mine. I know I was experiencing my pre-heat but surely I should’ve wanted to succumb to my desires right?

“Have fun” the employee said as I was now left alone with the unknown hybrid… “You're a collectible” she muttered and I growled. “I don’t mean that as offensive… I didn’t even mean to say it but your collar looks expensive” she defended and I knew that it was.

Each collar of hers was the same but different color or different jewels which differentiates me from the other hybrids at home… unique and made for me... which was a crimson red.

“Your owner must have not wanted to deal with a hybrid in heat huh?” she asked and it made me mad how many questions she asked… “No I decided to do it, '' I said and her eyes widened. 

“And your owner actually listened?! No way… I was told all of the hybrid collectors could care less about their hybrid’s opinions!” she laughed and it took lots of control to not threaten her.

I found her annoying so how was I supposed to spend the rest of my time with her?

“You do smell like you’re in heat though… I haven’t started mine but I’m having pre-heat symptoms” she said as she now got closer…

“Ready?”

“Told you so,” Wooyoung said, teasing me and I scoffed. “What happened?” Seonghwa asked, clearly amused. “She kept talking about me as if I was a collectible, it was annoying. She was annoying and she had the same stupid fur color as yours” I muttered and they laughed at my misery.

“All hybrids see us that way because most of the hybrid owners as rich as ours collect hybrids,” Yeosang said and I knew he was right but I didn’t want to hear it…

“Hongjoong! Why would you threaten her?!” y/n soon rushed where we were to yell at me. She was trying to reason with her owner on the walk by phone but I think she just has to pay for damages and the hotel charges for that stuck-up she-tiger…

“She annoyed me” I muttered and she sighed and walked off still talking on the phone negotiating with the she-tiger’s owner. “You do know now you have two options y/n or pills,” Wooyoung said as he tossed me heat suppressants.

I walked silently to my room… Luckily, y/n agreed to move Seonghwa and let me have a room to myself despite the Doberman’s protests.

I sighed… I really didn’t want to take heat suppressants. I never have and starting would be bad for my health…

“Hongjoong” I heard as I saw y/n come in. I was annoyed how she constantly smelt like that panther hybrid especially how he’s been sleeping in her bed as of recently though that is my fault. 

“Have you decided what you want to do?” she asked with a soft smile… she looked so innocent, why did I hate it? I wanted to ruin her…

“Hongjoong?” she said pulling me away from my thoughts. “I’ll just lock myself in here–” “That's not healthy though” She cut me off and I know it wasn’t but the hotel wasn’t an option anymore. 

“I’ll be fine… thank you” I said and she sighed. “I can help you know? I… trust you” she said, actually genuine. “You shouldn’t give your trust to me you know” I said and she smiled. 

“I do though… so Hongjoong?” 

no one’s perspective

You asked one more time before the tiger’s fantasies took over and nodded. Getting closer to the tiger, he grabbed a hold of one of your thighs before pushing you onto the bed he was sitting in a second ago.

If you told Hongjoong he’d share his heart with a human he would’ve laughed at you a few months ago… but the way you looked up at him curious about what he’d do waiting for his move made him feral. 

Those innocent eyes looked up at him… but he knew better. The fox was quite a sex crazed… and the panther a possessive lover, while the Doberman made you the loudest he’s ever heard you. 

It was no secret how much those three loved you… but he never believed that it was truly easy to love you. 

“Don’t look at me like that” he said… even though he likes your eyes looking up at him submissively, even though he knew that it could become an addiction. 

“I thought you were okay with me helping you?” you asked and he hissed. “Not when you make it hard to control myself” he muttered and you offered him one of your genuine smiles… one that differed from the scared and anxious written expression he used to cause. 

“You don’t have to… I'm not fragile, you know?” she asked and I chuckled. “Not that… I know you aren’t. But you make it hard for me not to claim you and mark you for your little mates to see” he teased and you then understood what he meant. 

“I think… you don’t have to worry about that. Do what you’d like” you said and it shocked him. He let you go and sat down on the bed facing his back towards you… not wanting to make a mistake.

“Hongjoong… you’re bonded with Seonghwa right?” you asked and he nodded. “Well… then you really don’t have to worry. I know we had bad impressions but we put that behind us. I’m not stupid… if you want to make me your mate then do it” you said as you put your chin on his shoulder and he chuckled. He turned his head to face you… 

“You’re making it harder on me than anyone i've met” he confessed and she chuckled. “It’s different when you like the person isn’t it?” you said and he didn’t say anything instead he grabbed your jaw but not like he did months ago. He messily and harshly kissed you now desperate…

It was messy as the both of you got lost at the moment. You didn’t even notice when Hongjoong had pinned you down on the bed as his hand stopped your head from moving too much. 

When he pulled away he didn’t give himself any time to let his lungs rest as he sucked and bit on your skin. Specifically on the scar he caused… he didn’t like seeing it so he wanted to cover it with a different meaning. His free hand in the meantime clawed through your shirt and ripped open your bra. He gripped you harshly as if you were trying to run away. 

His tail even gripped onto your thigh letting him comfortably lay between your legs, his chest pressed against yours and his mouth on your neck. 

“Are you sure you want to continue?” he muttered, finally pulling away but not even to look you in the eyes but instead to observe the work he’s done with the dark colored love bites adorning your jaw and neck. 

“Please” you begged and he chuckled. “So pretty when you beg like that” he muttered as he leaned in to give you a loving kiss before trailing down to kissing down to your chest and teasing you until he decided to go lower and stop just at where your panties covered you. 

He ripped them up with his claws as he teased you. The cold air now makes it obvious just how wet you are as he smirks down at you. 

“Anything to say my darling girl?” he asked you and you felt embarrassed having to beg especially when you weren’t used to it. not when the other three were so giving. “Please?” you said and he laughed at your innocence. “Always used to getting what you want don't you?” he teased and he was right… in more ways than one. 

You suddenly yelped as he grabbed the back of your thighs and pressed them up against your chest. “But it's not like I can fight these urges,” he said now feeling his heat slowly getting him pent up.

He lined up his cock against your pussy and teased you as you felt the pressure of his weight on your clit. He wanted to see how your hands pressed against his stomach from his rough handle on you. Almost like prey trying to get free. 

“Please Hongjoong!” you let out and he chuckled as he did what you requested but all in one go making it sting just a little to accommodate his size. 

Hongjoong also let out a string of curses as he freed one hand by putting your leg to rest on his shoulder just to play with your clit making your moans only get louder and your expressions get more lewd. 

He wasn’t normally one to think pervertedly but he definitely wanted to see what type of faces you make when he’s fucking you. 

Both were desperate for one another and this perverted scene wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. He was also intending to make more marks on your body… like handprint bruises on your thighs and more purple hickies adorning your body. Maybe even filling you up in so much cum that you’ll be leaking for days.

Just cause he had to share you, didn’t mean he wasn’t a possessive lover but maybe he’ll convince you to mark him up a bit too?

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[showtoonzfan]

Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel is concerningly a trojan horse of white feminism. White feminism identifies with white patriarchy and strives to find a place of power within it, whether or not they acknowledge white men would never see them as equals. This type of feminism enforces the same patriarchal values that hold them down.

On both shows, the male characters are favored, the actions of the shitty male characters are justified to be right and that they are to be sympathized with little to no regard to their victims that are made to be at fault for being being imperfect at reacting at the abuse they receive.

And what is most perplexing to me as an outsider, is that Medrano is supposed to be a victim of abuse by some guy, and yet identifies and upholds her abusive male characters. In her attempt to humanize them, she disregards the weight of their actions. Her actions with her ex-employees and ex-friends show that the victim became the abuser to regain a sense of power, which is typically what white feminism is.

I know I shouldn't be psycho-analyzing her as a distant observer, but I'm tired of people mystifying a suffering deer with fungal-mutated horns and not thinking there's something wrong with it and that it needs help.

No you’re completely right. Vivienne has shown for many years that she isn’t a girls girl. On the outside she’s tried to paint herself as pro feminism and that she cares about other women, when in reality she’s transphobic, has put other women down, and has slut shamed them in her work. She’s basically that obnoxious girl in middle school that acts like she’s a girls girl but in reality is constantly and desperately seeking male validation, like how she once made a tweet questioning why she hasn’t been acknowledged for being a famous female content creator in a world dominated by men even though there were many other female content creators before her that were already rising to the top. I never came out of watching or reading something she made and thought “she hates men”, cause she doesn’t. She hates women and it shows in how she writes them and uses them. Her males are allowed to be 3 dimensional yet 90% of her females are one note. Viv also caters to the male audience who lusts over her female characters and I don’t need to explain that one.

Meanwhile she hasn’t got a single favorite or popular female character. There’s a reason why for years she’s said her favorites are Alastor and Angel and how she loves writing Adam, hell…she confirmed Adam is her favorite HH character. She doesn’t care about her female characters and only her males, whom she can find enjoyment in, either woobifying or sexualizing them. I think it kinda tells you something when you learn that Val is supposed to be based on her abuser yet she constantly likes tweets by Val apologists and sexy/silly fanart of him.

Meanwhile (as everyone has been saying), her content is for white queers/white fujoshi’s, no one else. She tries so hard for some reason to act like she’s new and progressive, challenging the world that’s been dominated by white people and their bland perspectives, but she hasn’t really added anything new to the table, and the way her fandom (and she herself at this point) treats black people is fucking nuts.

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Return to Sender [6 of 9]

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dark! Andy Barber x Reader, Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: Andy Barber promised he would never let you go, and come hell or high water, he's going to keep that promise.

Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon, Kidnapping, Murder, Canon Typical Violence, Gaslighting, Basement Wife Trope, Manipulation, Stalking, Obsessive behavior, Possessive behavior, Fluff, Friends to lovers, Smut, MORE TAGS TO BE ADDED

A/N: ooh you all are going to be saur mad at me, lol. i’m sorry. i promise, we’re coming to an end, one i hope is as satisfying as the journey has been. remember, the outcome of this story was one you all voted on (dark vs. fluff), something i’ve kept in mind as i’ve crafted the story moving forward. thanks for sticking with me! comments are great, reblogs are golden. thank you for reading, and mind the warnings. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics

Andy’s voice sounds like oil even through the phone. 

“Well?” The expectant word rolls off his tongue. “I’m waiting.” 

It’s hard to speak, like the words are stuck in your chest. You lick your dry lips, casting a nervous glance around the phone store. 

“I want to talk.” 

“Yes, Honey. You said that already.”

“I—I want you to stop hurting people. You have to stop, Andy!” The phone trembles in your clammy hands as you readjust your grip on it. Ari is still asleep—or at least, he had been when you’d crept out from underneath his arm after he’d fallen asleep. Otherwise, he’d surely have stopped you. From across the counter, the employee gives you a frustrated glare. It’s almost closing time, and you don’t exactly have spare minutes to skip around the point. You’d also promised her a sale—which you absolutely were not going to follow through on either. 

“You know why I’m hurting people.” He sounds like he’s going to say something else, but the grainy sound of an infant’s cry derails him. Your chest clenches, and tears gather in the corners of your narrowed eyes. “See? Look who you’re hurting, Honey. All this foolishness, and all you’ve managed to do is hurt everyone around you. You hurt our daughter.” Andy sighs. “And yourself. You’re quite good at that.”

You take a deep, trembling breath. It doesn’t matter that it isn’t true, that none of it is true. It doesn’t matter that he’ll think it’s his idea. It’s better. Better if he does. 

“You’re right.” The words feel like glass on your tongue. “You’re right.” The sound of him clucking his tongue through the receiver is enough to raise your hackles. You want to hang up the phone, to press the end call button and leave. You want to say it’s your devotion to Dove that keeps you on the line, and mostly it is. But there’s the part of you that Andy owns—the part you expect he’ll own forever that believes him. “I… I’m sorry.”  You hate that part of you that really is.

“I’m sorry for everything.” There’s no response, but you know he’s still there—you can hear Dove gurgling against his shoulder. “It’s my fault. I got scared, Andy. I—I hate it, without you.” You hear his thoughtful hmm thought the receiver. 

“Then tell me where you are, Honey. So I can come and get you, and this whole ugly mess will be all finished.”  You don’t want to. 

“I—I will, but you have to promise me you won’t hurt anyone else. Promise me, Andy.” 

“Tell me something, Sweetheart, who is Ari Levinson?”

You’d called Andy with the resolve to give him nothing. To placate and pacify him until he allowed you to see Dove again. What you weren’t prepared for was him knowing about Ari. Your chest tightens as his words ring again in your ears—Promise me you won’t go back. Promise me.

I’m sorry, Ari.

Your non-answer is enough to make Andy sigh. 

“So you do know him.” The displeasure in his voice is easy enough to hear, and it fills you with cold dread. He’s trained you that way, made you hyper responsive to every one of his moods. You can’t help it now, your body tightening like a piano wire at the sound of his disappointment. 

“I really thought you would keep better company, Honey. Dishonorable discharge, manslaughter, criminal intimidation…” Andy trails off, clucking his tongue. Your heart is pounding, your trembling, clammy hands gripping the phone so tightly your fingers hurt. Manslaughter? Intimidation? Ari hadn’t told you any of that—but you suppose you hadn’t really asked. You know Andy’s only doing this to make you unsure, to shake up your footing and keep you guessing while he gathers all the cards—and he’s good at it. He chuckles at your silence. 

“Oh Honey. He didn’t tell you, did he?” Andy doesn’t even bother hiding his amusement. “I’m always telling you you can’t just trust anyone off the street, Honey. These people you’re with, they’re not good people.” 

You’re not good people, you think savagely, though your resolve crumbles as you hear Dove’s sleepy wail through the phone. She needs you, and your whole body aches at the thought of being unable to fulfill that need. Andy clears his throat. 

“I’m going to ask again, Honey, and I really want you to be honest with me when you answer. Who. Is. Ari. Levinson.”

“H-he just helped me, that’s all,” you mumble. “Ir—my contact, she… she knows him. I don’t really… I haven’t spent much time with him.” Andy’s always been good at knowing when you lie—and you wait anxiously to see if he’ll taste the mistruth in your words. The silent seconds tick by as you hear him quiet your daughter and sigh deeply. 

“If I send Robert to get you, Honey, you’re coming home this time. Understand?”

“I-I want to come h-home.” The word feels like acid in your throat, but you want to swallow it back down anyway, so he can’t hear it. “I need to come home. I-I miss Jacob.” You do—that part, at least, is true. 

“Honey I want that more than anything. It’s going to be good, better, Sweetheart. So much better than before.” His words do everything but reassure you. “You don’t know how good it feels to hear you say that.”  You imagine him in his office, standing in front of the fireplace. It’s so clear you can almost see it, instead of the dingy used phone store. “He’ll be there tomorrow morning, early. Train station.” 

“I-I’ll be there.”

“I know you will.”

“You promise if I do this—you won’t, you won’t hurt anyone else, right?” You hear the line clicking in his silence. 

“I promise.” 

— 

The walk back to the shop takes you twice as long, probably because you keep stopping, staring ahead of you silently as your thoughts boil over and out of control. You’d promised Ari—and you’d known, even then, that you would break it. The sight of Irene’s face, his wound, it had all made your decision as easy as it could possibly be:

You were going to get Dove yourself. 

You’d underestimated Andy’s connections, and two nights ago was proof enough of that. Pronge was proof of that. If you don’t go back now, you know they won’t survive another encounter. And Andy… you know he can spin it. Just like he had your disappearance. He wouldn’t let you go, he never would. He’d make it cost too much. It already cost too much, you think to yourself, clenching your fists angrily. 

It feels like no matter what you do, no matter what you choose or how hard you fight, you just. Keep. Losing. You come to the dead end street where Zemo’s abandoned-but-not garage sits—but you walk right past it. You can’t go back yet, you don’t have your story straight. Hell, you don’t even have your own fucking head straight. You can’t face either of them right now. 

How do I tell Ari?

You don’t want to think about how devastated he’ll be, how angry. You doubt he’ll understand—you can’t leave Dove with Andy, alone to twist her mind and shape her into God knew what. No, you can’t do that. You can’t even consider it. You didn’t want to leave Jacob either, but you knew you couldn’t manage two babies, not when Andy had barely let you escape with one. Ari will blame himself, you know that much already. 

But knowing he’ll hate you is far better than knowing he was dead because of you.

It’s a gray day, and the off-again-on-again rain has managed to soak through your borrowed sweatshirt. Once you round the large, empty park at the far end of the neighborhood, you decide to head back. You don’t really feel much better, but you know you can’t stay out by yourself much longer.  Once you round the corner and turn onto the block, you spot Ari standing outside, in front of the closed garage door bay. 

“What are you doing? Where did you go?” He asks, frowning down at you worriedly. “You can’t just—” Ari stops himself, and blows out a harsh, frustrated breath. “Mouse, you know he isn’t going to stop.” 

You look down at your feet. “I know.” He steers you back inside with his good hand. 

“Let’s go over the plan again.” You can’t help but roll your eyes. He can’t see you, but somehow, Ari knows. “Hey. Come on, humor me.” 

“Fine.” You lean against the dusty front counter as you watch him close the door and lock it behind him, lowering the security grate before bolting that, too. “Step one: Canada. Step two: new identity. Step three: Come back, get Dove.” You know this is what they want, what they say is best, safest. 

And you know they’re right, it is what’s safest—for you.

Andy has a long memory—and his patience exceeds that of a fucking saint. He’d waited eight years for you. You don’t want to know how long he’s willing to wait to put another bullet in Ari. And somehow, you know that if he comes to do it himself, he won’t miss. 

“Good. I know it’s hard right now. But I promise you, I will be with you every single step of the way, okay? We are not giving up on Dove.” Ari cups your chin with a tenderness that brings burning tears to your eyes. You blink them back, burying your face against his chest. 

“I know.” The rough fabric of his sling against your cheek strengthens your resolve, though. “Thanks, Ari.” 

“You’re welcome.” He kisses the top of your head. “Not the biggest fan of Quebec but Montreal is nice. Maybe we’ll go there, first.” Andy’s voice echoes unpleasantly in your head. Dishonorable discharge. Manslaughter. Ari’s laughter falters. “What’s wrong, Mouse?” 

“N-nothing.” You shake your head, attempting to clear it of the ghosts Andy had put in it. “Did you go to Montreal while you were in the army?” You ask, and his expression darkens, just a little. 

“No. After, actually. After I left.” The why hangs unspoken in the air between you, and you hesitate to breathe it into existence yourself, no matter how desperate the desire. “I told you about my sister. Her husband.” He sighs. “I wasn’t—I wasn’t alright. When they died. I’m probably still not, but it… I was angry. I wanted to kill him, Mouse. I wanted to hurt him like he hurt them and I wanted him to know why.”

“Did you?”Ari doesn’t look proud. He looks… sad. Like he doesn’t want you to know, like he’d rather lie instead of letting a single shred of the truth pass his lips in this moment. But Ari isn’t a liar, you’ve learned that well enough. 

“Yes.” He’s looking at you but his eyes are so far away that you know he isn’t, really. You don’t know what he’s seeing, but you know it isn’t you. “I did. I know I should regret it—what I did. But I couldn’t. I can’t.” You aren’t afraid of him, even though perhaps, you know you probably should be. And yet, even amidst his confessions, all you feel is safe. 

So safe. 

“I went to Montreal after that.”

You don’t know what else to say, but you wrap your arms around him, the tips of your fingers barely touching around his broad back. It’s the only thing you can think to give him in this moment. Words may fall short, and you know that he will dwell on them tomorrow when you’re gone, dissect them with the same stubborn diligence he shows you at every opportunity. But this, this he won’t be able to deny, to spin. 

Ari hums, squeezing you affectionately. 

“Mind if I change the subject now, Mouse?” He asks, sighing the words into your hair. “Besides, if we stay out much longer, Irene’s liable to come looking for us.” 

“Too late.” Her irritated voice makes you jump. “Where did you get off to?”You swallow thickly, hoping Ari doesn’t hear it. 

“I just took a walk.” In the beat of silence before Irene’s response, you can practically hear her roll her eyes. You turn to see her doing just that, and you wonder briefly if your powers of prophecy might lend themselves to something more useful. She jerks her head toward the office. 

“Well, walk yourself in here a minute, would you? We’ve got to get these tickets sorted.” Ari snorts with laughter. “That was good, right?” She grins, carding a hand through her silver-blonde hair. Irene hasn’t been nearly as forthcoming as Ari with information—like she almost doesn’t want to know you, or like she’s afraid to get close. The disapproving look she fixes Ari with only further substantiates your theory. 

Reluctantly, you follow Irene inside. 

—

 Andy takes a long, slow sip of his scotch, holding the liquor on his tongue before swallowing. The ice clinks gently against the glass, and after a moment, he sets it down to ponder the object in his other hand. 

Your ring is beautiful—a classic marquis cut diamond, flanked by alternating long and short baguette cuts. It fit you perfectly—he’d had it made for you, so of course it had. Large enough that other women made a fuss over it whenever they saw it, but still classy, not ostentatious. 

You’d left it on the dresser, next to the ankle monitor you managed to slip off without tripping the alarm. Andy’s lip curls, and he downs another mouthful. 

Let’s see her take off a goddamn chip.

The sound of tiny footsteps outside his office door makes Andy turn, just in time to see Jacob poke his head around the doorframe. He’s nearly four now, and he can reach the handle without standing on the tips of his toes, now. 

“Hey, bud. What is it? You know you’re supposed to be in bed.” Jacob’s lip trembles. 

“Daddy, I had bad dream,” he replies shakily, rubbing his watery eyes with the back of his chubby hand. “Went for mommy but she not there.” 

It takes everything Andy has not to blame you, but he swallows the urge. You can’t help it—you don’t have his vision, his foresight. You don’t see how much he needs you, how great you could be together if you would just let him lead you. He’d tried to replace you with Laurie, and look how that had turned out. No, Andy had already tried back-up plans B, C, and D when what he really needed was just to try A one more time. 

“Daddy’s sorry to hear that, Jake. Would you like to come sit with me?”  He nods, sniffling. Andy hoists his toddler up onto his lap, rubbing his back with a gentle hand. “What was the dream about?” 

“The bad-glasses-man.” Jacob says seriously, turning his glassy, terrified eyes to his father. Andy’s face remains passive, but inwardly he rages. Pronge’s comings and goings are easy enough to hide from the rogue paparazzi and the plain-clothes cops he knows are lurking just beyond the property gate, but significantly less so from his son, apparently. 

“Who’s the glasses man?” He knows the answer, but he needs the confirmation. The question alone is enough to upset him, and Jacob begins to fret, his eyes watering as he shakes his head.

“I don’t like him. His face is red.” 

The night he’d brought Dove back, he’d been practically covered in blood—the only clean thing was the goddamn baby. Andy didn’t ask where the hired muscle was, and Robert did not volunteer the information. 

“You know that was a dream, don’t you, tough guy?” Andy says, wiping the tears from his son’s chubby cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “When you go to sleep, you have dreams. And what we see in our dreams isn’t real, remember?”

“I ‘member, daddy.” Jacob still looks rather upset, though, and Andy wonders what else he hasn’t managed to hide, what other loose ends he hasn’t managed to tuck. “Him’s scary.”

He’d been planning of disposing of Pronge anyway—passing along “new” evidence to his friends in the DA’s office in Florida  would be more than enough to have a needle in his arm before he could so much as kick dirt at Andrew Barber’s pristine legacy. 

“It’s okay to be scared, Bud. Thanks for coming to see me—that’s what dads are for.” 

“And moms.” Jacob adds seriously, and Andy smiles and nods in agreement  though his free  hand clenches against the seat where his son can’t quite see it. 

“And moms.” 

—

Dinner is takeout, with Ari meeting the delivery driver three blocks away, just to be safe. You can feel Irene’s eyes on you the whole time he’s gone. You wonder if maybe she knows somehow, if she’s figured out your plan just from plain experience and observation. Her face is still a mess of bruising, but the swelling around her eye has gone down enough for her to squint out of it,  which is what she’s currently doing as she looks at you. Her nose is still red and angry, the bruised, veiny skin peeking out around the bandage and splint—Pronge had broken it. 

“I’m sorry.” You feel compelled to apologize again—after all, you’re responsible. Sure, Robert had been the one to break it, but you feel like you might as well have driven your own fist into her face for all the difference it made. “I didn’t know Andy would… that he would call someone like that.” You’d thought you knew Andy, that you understood him, who he was. And that had been why you’d let him back in. 

But you hadn’t, you see that now. Not even a little bit. 

Irene snorts. “Robert’s a parasite. I’m not surprised he’s got himself mixed up with a big fish like Andrew Barber.” She crosses her arms. “He’s always had a talent for finding garbage.” 

“You know him?” You ask, grimacing. Irene’s scowl deepens with regret, and she looks away. She’s by no means a small woman, broad shouldered and tall—but she looks somehow diminished.

 “S-sorry, I, I shouldn’t pry. I—I know we’re supposed to keep the interpersonal stuff to a minimum—” You ramble apologetically to fill the awkward space your question has left, but Irene cuts you off. 

“He was my first partner. Before lover-boy,” she adds, snorting. Your cheeks heat. You can’t stop your face from contorting in confusion. “He was my transporter, till he turned one of my girls back over to her husband.” She looks down at her hands. “My last girl, before, well, you.” Irene’s laugh is dry, but not bitter. 

“I didn’t know I was your one last job,” you reply. “Where’d you meet Pronge?” 

“What can I say? Your email was very convincing.” Your chest hurts at this, bad. You want to tell her, tell her everything, your phone call with Andy, your deal—but you don’t. She’ll only try to stop you. She’s already suspicious of you, you know—you can’t be the first to think about going back, to weigh the pros and cons and find the latter holds more water. Instead, you watch her tug the chain out from beneath her collar with her thumb. 

“Military. Same place I met Ari,” she adds. 

“You were all there together?” You ask incredulously, and she actually laughs, shaking her head. “In the army?” 

“No, no. Six degrees of separation, type thing.” The chain link rattles as Ari pulls it up, and you turn to watch him duck underneath before lowering it back down and snapping the padlock into place to keep it shut. “Didn’t even know this prick till I needed an east coast cover.” She jerks her thumb at him as he sighs, shaking his head. 

“Talking about me again, ladies?” He says, putting the bag down heavily on the counter. “Don’t stop on my account.” 

“Wasn’t going to,” Irene retorts. “And we weren’t Army.” She scrunches up her nose with distaste. “That, there, darlin’,” she points at Ari. “Is a Marine.” She turns her accusatory finger back on herself. “Marine.” 

You offer her a wry smile. “I’m not sure what the difference is, but—” you hold your hands up placatingly as her face screws up with offense. “I do believe you that  there is a difference.” 

“Damn right.” 

Ari’s hand finds the small of your back as he passes by behind you, and you don’t jump at his presence. 

“There’s not really that much of a difference.” He murmurs cheekily, and you stifle a giggle, biting your lip. “Just so you know.” Ari’s lips graze the shell of your ear, and your whole face goes hot. 

“I heard that, asshole,” she snaps, jabbing her finger in Ari’s direction again. “There is.”  Irene eats alone, waving her hand and shaking her head as she shovels food out onto her plate. “No, no. I need time away from you two. No offense.” 

“None taken.” Ari replies, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “You’re in a shit mood anyway.” You don’t have to see Irene flipping him off to know it’s happening, but you peek over your shoulder anyway, and snicker with laughter as she proudly presents her middle finger. Ari ignores her. 

You eat in companionable silence, before Ari, elbows you gently. 

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks, and your chest fills with that too-familiar-ache. “Really?”

“I’m fine.” You don’t know if he believes you, but he doesn’t ask again. Instead, he does something else entirely—Ari dotes on you. He reminds you to finish your food when you push it away half-eaten. If not for me, then for Dove, Mouse. Can’t make milk for her if you’re starving. And when you’re done, he takes your plate, tossing it in the trash for you. You’re still wired, however, electricity running under your skin as the hours wind down. It’s all you can do not to pace. 

Andy had taught you that you couldn’t have your cake and eat it too—but goddamn do you want to. You want your daughter, and you want Ari. It feels unfair that you can’t, mostly because it is. Andy gets to have it all. Do it all, and what do you get? To crawl back to him on your belly because he’s still. Fucking. Winning. 

Ari places a hand on your thigh, stilling it. You hadn’t even realized you’d been bouncing it nervously, staring off into space. His concern cuts through the noise of your anxiety. 

“You’re going to drive yourself crazy.” He grasps your hands.  You sigh. 

“I know.” You hang your head. “I—I can’t stop thinking about Dove,” you admit, hanging your head. “How she needs me…” Ari squeezes your hands together, his larger ones enveloping them. 

“You need you.” He strokes the backs of your hands softly with his thumb. “You realize that, don’t you, Mouse?” You try to resist when he tucks a finger underneath your chin to make sure you’re looking at him, and when you do, you find his eyes shiny with unshed tears. “Please tell me you understand.” 

“I understand.” 

You want to—but you don’t even know who you are anymore. Without Dove, you feel adrift; she’d been your anchor, your purpose and drive. You needed to protect her, to get her away from Andy and keep her safe and whole and good. You reasoned you could fix yourself after, duct tape was good enough for you. But now that he has her again and your plan lies in ruins around you, you don’t even know what you’re doing this for. The various splintered pieces of you held in place by thin tape are falling apart again, and you don’t have another way to make them stay together. 

When Ari pulls you to his chest you go willingly, tucking yourself against his chest. He smells like pine musk and rain and just a hint of sweat, and you bury your nose in the folds of his shirt. You want to remember him, remember every moment you’d spent with him because they were precious. Of course only you realize it as you stand upon the precipice of never seeing him again, but you can’t change that now. You’re okay with it, trading the feeling of Ari’s solid body against yours, the surety of his presence, for knowing he’ll get to keep breathing. 

He’s worth that to you. 

Ari presses a kiss into your hair. 

“I fucking swear I will do everything in my power to make sure that he never hurts either of you again.” It breaks your heart to know that no matter how hard he tries, Ari will never be able to keep that promise. 

I think I love you. “Thank you.” I’m sorry. 

“Let’s get some rest.” 

You swallow against the tide of words that threaten to come crashing out of your mouth, and nod instead. He leads you back to the makeshift bedroom, and climbs into the cot beside you. He holds you, tucking your head beneath his chin as, for the last time, you fall asleep beside Ari Levinson. 

—

“You look like shit.” Pronge’s voice is mocking. You glower at him from across the empty parking lot, but you don’t get any closer. You hadn’t been waiting there long when the sleek black car had pulled into the lot, with Pronge oozing out of the driver’s side door. “What? You get cold feet all of a sudden?” He doesn’t have to yell to be heard—there’s no traffic, no people. The train station is practically a ghost-town at this hour, so there’s no one to overhear, either. 

“No.” You narrow your eyes at him, before reluctantly stepping forward. You see no reason not to be honest. “I just hate you.” He grins at your admission. 

“Happy to see you too, Sweetcheeks.” Pronge throws open the door to the black sedan next to him, and jerks his thumb at the back seat. “Now get in. Your hubby’s eagerly waiting for you a three hour drive back to fucking Boston.” He sneers. “What, you deaf too? I said move it.” 

You’re halfway across the lot when the sound of your name makes your eyes widen. You turn, and behind you is Irene, leaning against the gate as she pants. Your own eyes widen with panic—she’s not supposed to be here. You swear she’d been sleeping not forty-five minutes ago, though the steady rise and fall of her chest in the dark had been your only indication. Ari doesn’t seem to be with her though, and you wonder if she’d rushed here straight  out of bed—she isn’t wearing any of her gear, and the knife you know she keeps in her belt is nowhere to be seen. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Irene looks from you to Pronge and then back again. Your chest aches as the realization crosses her face, betrayal settling in soon after. “You can’t do this.” 

“Oh but this is delicious,” Pronge drawls, stepping around the open door. His greasy hair hangs limply into his face. “She’s going home to daddy.”  

“The fuck you are,” Irene retorts. “You know you can’t.” She isn’t even talking to Pronge anymore, just you. “You can drink poison knowing it’s poison, but you’ll still die. Andy is never going to let you go, you know that. You told me what it was like in the basement. It’s going to be ten times as bad if he gets his hands on you again.” Irene fixes you with a pleading, earnest look. “Please—”

You’ve heard gunshots before—plenty of times, now—but this doesn’t sound like one. It’s why you don’t understand it when Irene’s chest erupts in a spray of dark, warm red. You can smell it, like burned, raw meat. It dribbles out of her mouth as she stumbles forward and then falls down onto the dark pavement, twitching. You clutch at your face with your hands as the scream that had built up in your chest emerges as a wheeze. 

You look at Robert, watching with horror as he stows a pistol with a long silencer attached back into his filthy jacket. The blacktop is slick with morning dew as you race across it, slipping and skidding until you reach her. 

“Help me!” Irene is gasping and twitching, her eyes rolling wildly as you push her onto her back, pushing your trembling hands against the hole in her chest. “What-what do I-I don’t know what to do, I—” Jerkily, she lifts a hand to your face, smearing your cheek with her blood. 

“R-ru-un.” She coughs up more red, darker, thicker. You sob as you attempt again to staunch the bleeding. It doesn’t help, though, bubbling up out of the wound and over your hands to pool on the ground beneath you. 

“No, no, please, he promised, he promised he—he promised,” you babble uselessly as she spasms again and then goes completely still, her eyes locked on the brightening sky above you. “He promised. Andy, he promised.” You look at Robert as Irene’s head falls back against the pavement. 

“I guess there’s one cherry that Barber didn't pop.” He is on you in an instant, closing the gap between you with a few careful steps. You can’t move, though, can’t think as his wiry fingers dig into the meat of your shoulder, dragging you to your feet. Irene needs help, she needs—

“No, no, I, I have to help her, I—” You’re babbling uselessly as he shoves you into the back seat, and when you go for the handles on the doors, nothing happens. “Let me—let me out! No, no, he promised, and—” Pronge ignores your wailing, sliding in behind the wheel and starting the car. If anything, he’s enjoying it, grinning as you sob and beat against the windows with bloodstained hands. You cry and scream until your throat is raw, watching her body disappear, eaten by the cityscape as you move away through it. 

After a while, you curl in on yourself, wrapping your arms around your knees and laying down on the cool, clean leather. 

He promised. 

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[unsolvedjarin]

Can we have more mentor!Seb x Ferrari driver!reader? Maybe she wins in Monza the same season as the last fic? 👀

note: sorry it took me so long to get to this request, life has been KILLING me lately. this one is pretty short but hopefully you enjoy!

FOCUS.

part one here but can be read without <3

pairing: (mentor! sebastian vettel x ferrari driver! reader) (mick schumacher x ferrari driver! reader AT THE END)

summary: monza was never an easy race, and that certainly wasnt changing anytime soon. but maybe some luck is on your side this year— and a supportive mentor.

content warning: none besides my verb tenses being all over the place

Max had gotten pole. So not good for you.

You lost P2 as well to Lewis by two-tenths of a second, but P3 was fine, P3 was good. Hopefully good enough for today. It was finally Sunday, and you couldn’t be more excited— it was finally Monza.

“Well the goal is to win,” you say, although it comes out muffled with food in your mouth. Sebastian had invited you to paddock brunch on race day, and you were not one to turn down free food.

Swallowing, you add, “I mean obviously the goal is to win. We’re in Monza, that’s every Ferrari driver's goal.”

The Aston Martin driver had been listening intently to your complaints about Ferrari’s performance recently, and from what he’s hearing, it’s not looking good. Not only was the car lacking in pace, the team itself had bad strategies left and right. While you had gotten a podium back in Spa, it was starting to look like it'd be the last podium for Ferrari for a while.

Charles had DNF’ed last race, and you ended up P9. Not a great result, but it still kept you third in the Construction Championship. This race, however, was too special to have a mediocre result.

It was the home of the Tifosi; the people, the cheers, the chants, it was all for Ferrari— all for you. You couldn’t lose in Monza.

“So you think you’ll win later then?” Sebastian asks, taking a bite of his own food.

“Well I don’t don’t think I’ll win, so there’s that.”

“What a strange type of confidence.”

“Thanks, I try.”

Sebastian laughs, a genuine one that makes you smile as well. You’d been spending more time with him since learning about his retirement at the end of the season, which says a lot when you were already always together. He didn’t mind though, he loved spending time with you above all the other people on the grid– well, except for Mick. He tagged along sometimes when he could. You liked having him around too.

“If it amounts to anything, I think you can win it.”

He always says that. ‘If it amounts to anything’ or ‘If it matters,’ as if everything he says wasn’t important to you when it was. “Thanks Seb, but save that optimism for yourself, you need it,” you tease.

You say it in a joking manner, but Seb knew there was a hint of seriousness to your words. Aston Martin hadn’t been performing well either, and if you considered Ferrari’s performance bad, then you could call theirs atrocious. You knew it wasn’t Seb’s fault, he had been trying to contribute to the efficiency of the car with his knowledge and he pushed it every race.

Nodding, he sighs, and you can sense the tiredness in his breath. 2 years of a slow car will do that to you. Before you could give him any comfort, however, a Ferrari employee calls out your name for you to get ready for the race.

“Good luck Schatzi, I believe in you,” Seb says, getting up from his seat. You get up and hug him tightly, smiling when he hugs you back just as tight.

“You too Sebby.”

“Do what I couldn’t,” you hear him whisper.

You don’t reply. You don’t tell him, ‘I’m sorry,’ because he already knows. He knows because you’ve told him it before many different times on many different races when he used to drive for Ferrari– but you’ll always remember Monza.

It was his dream, the most important thing he wanted out of joining Ferrari besides winning the championship with them. But he never got it. Every year he was there, something took the win out of his grasp. Engine failure, collision, slow pace, no grip, it didn’t matter what the reason was. He never got it.

You separate, both going to get ready. You’ll make him proud, you think to yourself.

The race was tight. Lewis was giving you a good fight, always just less than a second away, but conveniently farther whenever you were in a DRS zone which meant you couldn’t overtake him. Thankfully, he slipped up during a straight, and gave you enough slipstream and space to pass him.

Then it was just you and Max. He was 10 seconds away, and you were so sure it was over. But then he pitted a little too long, giving you enough time to take his position.

And then you were leading.

You were leading in a Ferrari in Monza.

Holy fucking shit.

Just one more lap, one more and you could see it– you could see the end.

“...Y/N L/N SEES THE CHECKERED FLAG, AND COMES TO WIN THE ITALIAN GRAND PRIX! FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2019, FERRARI WINS IN THEIR HOME RACE!”

You couldn’t believe it.

You won. You won in Monza. In a Ferrari.

You did it.

If the screams of the fans were loud in Spa, the cheers of the emotional Tifosi were deafening here. Exiting your car, still shellshocked, you’re immediately approached by Max, who gave you a quick hug in congratulations.

Slightly snapping out of your buzzed state, you run towards your crew who was on the other side of the barrier, practically jumping into their arms. They couldn’t believe it either. When you finally removed your helmet, the muffled sounds of everything else suddenly became clear, and somehow the already thundering roars of the crowd had gotten louder.

Despite all that commotion, all that chaos and celebration, there was only one man you were looking for. You heard he had DNF’ed, which meant he would be in his garage, but you didn’t care. You were going to look for him before you got on that damn podium.

While Max and Lewis went to the cooldown room, you got ready to sneak out and go to the Aston Martin garage, when a hand grabs yours and spins you around to face them. It takes you a second to realize what was happening, but when you did– “SEBASTIAN!”

He enveloped you in a hug, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. You could hear his proud laughs, and you started laughing as well. You had done it.

“I ca-”

“I-”

You both start at the same time, making you both laugh even harder. You gesture for him to start first, and he does. “I can’t believe it. You actually fucking did it,” he says, the joy evident in his cussing.

He walks with you back towards the Podium, an arm around your shoulder looking proud. When you get to the side stage you pause in protest, but he reads your mind before you can say anything. “Go, we’ll talk later.” He gives you a little nudge, and off to the platform you go.

You asked Charles once, and he told you that when you get up there on the platform, everything goes quiet. You would see the crowd, the fans clad in red, and you would feel the love, but you wouldn’t hear it– as if all their cheers mixed together into a large vast silence. One thing would come into focus, and when you see what you’ve focused on, it’ll all make sense. For him, it was a man wearing a shirt with the number 17 on it. In the large mobs, it was the one thing his eyes had focused on.

For you, however, it wasn’t in the crowd. It wasn’t in the endless support of the Tifosi, nor the trophy given to you. No, it was in the man you could see in your peripheral vision, standing on the side, clapping proudly and looking at you as if no one else was on the podium.

Sebastian. It was him. Your mentor, your father figure, your friend. You finally understood what Charles was always rambling about. That loving feeling— not one you feel with a romantic partner, but the one that buries itself deep into your soul and grows over time, unseen and unnoticed, but when you finally focus on it, everything makes sense.

The second the podium festivities ended, you ran into Sebastian’s arms and hugged him tightly, not minding the cameras all around you. He didn’t understand what was happening, but he hugged you back, not letting you go.

Tomorrow— not today while the chaos of the fans was still ongoing— the media will spew rumors about you and the older driver, but you don’t care. Not when you’re finally happy here; content.

With content tears flowing freely down your face— along with some champagne from earlier— you finally disconnected from the hug, looking at Sebastian with a grin.

He looked confused, “What’s happening? Are you alright? Is everything okay?”

Shaking your head with a laugh, you reply, “It’s fine, everythings okay. I just— I can’t believe I did it. And with you watching. I couldn’t be happier.”

Sebastian takes a moment to intake what you said. He had never felt this way before. Never felt so utterly proud of someone. You had done what he never could, had finally achieved the Ferrari dream he had always wanted for himself. He could see himself in you now, the sheer joy of a win with a team he always wanted to win with. He couldn’t be more happy for you too.

“Sebastian?” you ask, worried about his silence. Maybe what you said was too much, too forward. But then he smiles softly at you, and you can see the tears welling in his eyes.

“You have no idea how proud I am of you.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, “Oh thank god, I thought you were thinking of scowling in disgust or worse; not hearing what I said and making me repeat it.”

He laughs, a hearty one, and you laugh as well. The roar of the crowd was still loud, but amidst all the chaos, your eyes still only focused on one person.

“Dinner?” he asks softly.

“Yeah, let’s get dinner.”

a bit of bonus for my mick girls out there:

“Y/N!” you hear a voice shout from across the paddock. It catches your attention, and you turn your head to the Mercedes hospitality where the voice came from. Sebastian is beside you, an arm around your shoulder, accompanying you for a post-race dinner.

“Mick! What’s up?” you ask, disconnecting from Sebastian’s hold to walk towards him. He meets you in the middle, giving you a quick hug before smiling.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on your win. We should celebrate!” he says, pausing for a moment as if thinking how to word his next sentence. “I was thinking— just a random thought really— we could…go out to dinner to celebrate? I mean just throwing ideas out there, you don’t have to.”

He’s looking everywhere but at you at this point, his eyes pointed down at his shoes and you can see his hands fiddling in his pockets. You notice Toto Wolff watching from the hospitality, but you pay no attention to him, instead keeping your eyes on the man in front of you.

“I’m sorry Mick I would love to, but I’m actually going out to dinner with Seba—”

“He can come,” Sebastian butts in. ��He can join us, I have no problem with it.”

“Oh, then great!” you exclaim, nudging Mick softly. He looks up at you with a slight red dusting on his cheeks you don’t notice. Oblivious, you intertwine your arm with his, walking with Seb tailing the both of you.

You ramble on about the race to him and don’t notice when he turns his head around to face Sebastian quickly, who was giving Mick two thumbs up with a cheeky grin. The younger driver blushes softly, before going back to facing you and listening to you talk.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, however, the older driver was already secretly thinking of an excuse to get the two of you alone at dinner.

[wardenparker]

Mitch Keller + "Dance with me", pls? Love the TF boys in other things 2!!!

Mitch Keller. 1,665 words. "Dance with me." Co-written with @absurdthirst

Light undertones of dom!Mitch. Boss/employee dynamic. Mutual pining. The love is requited, they're just idiots. Garrett Hedlund as Mitch Keller is desperately underrated and I can't wait for season 2 of Tulsa King.

The bar is like a whole different place after closing. Every single night, without fail, the place goes from noisy and energetic to just being the two of you. Loud and buzzing becomes quiet and comfortable as soon as you cross the threshold after closing time. Two in the morning would be a lonely time for most people. Maybe it ought to be. Maybe it even is for Mitch Keller. You can’t be sure. But for you, two in the morning is the time you like most. When you get to be alone with the man you’ve been in love with for years.

Despite wiping down the bar top countless times during the night, there’s still a sticky film to be cleaned. Spilled liquor and beer from varying degrees of coordinated hands. Mitch knows you are watching him as the old jukebox plays and he wonders what you are thinking.

You really have to stop staring at your boss. Shit’s gonna get your fired for harassment one of these days. The music clicks over, jolting you out of your head and reminding you to clean. The floor isn’t going to sweep itself and it doesn’t matter how good Mitch’s ass look in those jeans. You’ll think about it later like you always do. But not here. Not now.

Despite the patrons paying for the songs that come over the old stereo. Mitch has a key that lets the two of you listen for free. Programming at least an hour’s worth of songs while you decompress and clean up. It had been a good night, but there’s this electric tension in the air.

Sometimes you share a single drink while you clean. Sometimes you chat about the day or about Mitch’s dad, who is the kindest landlord in the world and the reason you have this job. Sometimes you joke or bitch or play around. Tonight it seems like wanting him has you in a strangle-hold, though, so when Patsy Cline comes on the jukebox, you almost groan for the irony.

“You doing alright over there?” Mitch asks, tossing the rag into a bin and propping his hands on his trim hips.

“What?” You were staring again. Into space this time, but staring nonetheless. “Uh—yeah. Fine. Totally fine,” you lie, shaking your head and shoulders and starting to sweep again. Daydreaming — middle of the night dreaming? — about your boss needs to wait until you get home.

He chuckles and shakes his head, amazed that you don’t just give in and tell him already. The hooded glances and yearning looks only go so far and if he were a betting man – which he is – he would say you were daydreaming again. “Let’s get finished early.” He tells you. “Got something I want to do.”

“Oh—oh sure.” Something to do in the wee hours of the morning? You try not to wonder if that ex-girlfriend of his has come crawling back again, knowing that it isn’t any of your business and you have no right to be jealous even if she is. Instead you pick up the pace with an unnerved and slightly anxious energy, determined not to think about it.

Mitch caps off the beer taps and groans. “I’ve got to restock the coolers.” He tells you. “You okay to mop?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” After years in this job you could probably close the whole bar down with your eyes closed, and you nod rather than look him in the eyes, afraid to give yourself away. “If you need to go, I can finish up alone.”

“No, I’m just going to be in the back for a few minutes.” He clarifies and tosses you a grin. “I wouldn’t leave you here alone. You know that.”

“I’ll be right here when you’re done.” Without him standing there distracting you, you’ll probably work three times faster, but it’s not his fault. It’s not his fault you’re a grown woman with a completely impossible crush — it’s more than that but you can’t deal with that right now — on a man who’s so far out of your league that it’s remarkable he even remembers your name.

Mitch disappears into the back, not quite telling the truth about why he had to go back there, but he needs to bide his time. To get you finished up before he came back out.

It doesn't take you long to actually get things sorted out up front. When you had thought that you could clean this place with your eyes closed, you meant it. The jukebox turns to more upbeat songs and you work through it, reminding yourself to just get the hell through the night so you can go home and get him out of your head for a few hours. At least until you have to be back here tomorrow night. Just breathe, and sing along with Leann Rimes on the jukebox to keep yourself amused. That's what you'll do.

In the back, Mitch has basically made himself a little apartment. He doesn't need much and the bar is literally his baby, so he cleans up quickly, wanting to freshen up. When he comes back out, you have just put everything away and are obviously waiting on him to return. The song fades out and slower one starts to pour out of the speakers. "You're done." He hums quietly.

"I've had practice." It's the closest you can get to teasing him tonight, with your head swimming and your palms a little sweaty. You're not your normally boisterous self.

"You do a good job." He praises, walking closer to you and when he's right in front of you, he stops. "So I was wondering if you would do something for me." He ventures softly.

"Of course." No hesitation, no consideration. You would do anything for him.

Smiling, he holds out his hand. “Dance with me.” He orders softly, stepping closer for you to accept his offer.

“I—what?” Somehow your hand has gone up on its own, hovering over his before you even manage to process what he’s asked.

“Dance with me.” He repeats, an amused twinkle in his eyes and a curve of his lips making him appear boyish.

It’s like your brain short circuits even while your body obeys, hand settling lightly in his and feet stepping forward while your mind works in overdrive to understand. You can’t stop yourself from blurting out “Why?” despite the moment being your literal dream come true.

“Because you never ask.” He reasons easily. “And how can I kiss you without a dance first?”

Thankfully the noise that strangles in your throat is more of a squeak than a squawk, and you swallow it before it can become anything absurd or humiliating. From somewhere in the background you can hear Trisha Yearwood on the jukebox and you might be shaking a little, but your other hand finds Mitch’s shoulder just well enough that you don’t stumble. “You…” You start to catch up to the moment as he starts to move to the music, and the surprise on your face is as obvious as your breathlessness. “You…want to kiss me?”

“Been thinking about how you taste.” He admits as he moves you around the open area of the bar. Skirting the tables that now have chairs flipped up on their tops. “Have for a while.”

“I’m…” Embarrassed heat floods your cheeks, warming your entire face right down your neck and chest. “I’m even less subtle than I think I am…aren’t I?”

“‘Bout as subtle as a rattler warning off a poor bastard walkin’ barefoot.” Mitch grins at you.

“Super.” You huff at yourself, sarcasm dripping from both syllables like honey. “Thank you for bein’ nice to my dumb ass, then.”

“Wondered why you took so long.” Mitch admits. “Got impatient, so I decided to make the move.”

“Sort of thought I was invisible to you,” you admit quietly, letting him lead you through basic steps even though you know damn well the man has moves. It’s you who can’t dance for shit, so he’s being nice again.

He snorts and shakes his head. “Dead wrong.” He tells you. “Just didn’t want you to think I was a creepy boss.”

“I was the creepy employee instead, I guess,” you huff, needing to laugh so that you don’t let your cheeks get as hot as a volcano.

“Thought it was kind of cute, myself.” Mitch drawls. “But….” He lifts a brow at you teasingly. “If we’re gonna do this—” he pulls his hand off your waist to motion between the two of you, “you gotta initiate sometimes. Can’t just be me chasin’ you.” He winks. “You gotta chase back.”

Being thoroughly embarrassed but elated are apparently two sides of the same coin for you, as there is no competition between expressions on your face — just one bright, disbelieving smile that makes you feel lighter than air. “If I had known you felt this way, I would’ve said something a long time ago.”

“It all works out in the end.” He promises, smirking at you softly. The music plays and the two of you sway around the bar, getting comfortable with the closeness of your bodies pressed together.

“Suppose so.” It’s whole actual years of yearning on your part, but you’re not about to second guess this moment. Not by a long shot. Not when he fits even more perfectly against you than you’d dreamed. “Suppose it’s all about what happens next.”

“Yeah.” The songs slowly starts to fade out and he comes to a stop with you still in his arms. “So.” He murmurs, lifting a brow. “What do you want to happen next?”

“I believe…” You quirk your head at him and feel your cheeks heat up all over again. “A kiss was mentioned?”

“Yes it was.” He flashes you a roguish grin and leans on, nudging your nose with his. “So, sweetheart…dance with me.” He orders right before he presses his lips to yours.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

[rafesgoldrings]

Rafe x trophy wife where an employee talks down to the reader (not knowing who she is or how much power she holds) and she goes along with it, pretending to not know anything about Rafe’s business until the man himself, aka her husband walks in at just the right time where the employee is calling the reader a dumb bitch for not knowing anything 👀

The guy had to be new because there’s no way one of the employees that had been there for awhile would even think about speaking to you that way, let alone actually say it to your face. It was subtle at first, each time he saw you grabbing the papers from your desk he’d offer to help you out. You thought he was just being nice after seeing the large stack of paper you had, but then he started saying snarky remarks to you. Any meeting you had with him was always full of something along the lines of ‘the adults are speaking sweetheart, why don’t you go get us some coffee and let us do our jobs’ and it took everything in you to not slap him. But you were smarter than that, smarter than him, and knew that if you planned it out, Rafe would catch him and the guy would quickly learn why he shouldn’t talk down to his fellow co workers. You sent Rafe a quick text asking him to come to your desk so you could give him something, and that wasn’t necessarily a lie…it was just a very early birthday gift that you conveniently decided to give him when you saw the asshole co worker approaching. You purposely sent him an email containing the wrong information about one of the sales Rafe made knowing it would set him off. The perfect plan to get this asshole caught. You’d gotten a reply saying he was on his way and smirked, setting your phone down and watching as the guy walked closer and closer. “Do you realize what you the hell you just did?” his face red and voice slightly raised. “No, did I do something wrong?” your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, a total look of absolute innocence on your face. You bit back a smile watching his nostrils flare, jaw clenching and chest rising with every increasing breath. “God you’re such a dumb bitch. You don’t know anything about this company. The only thing you’re good for is being the young hot thing in the office with good tits and a good ass who’s cu-“ a loud booming voice cutting him short. A smug look on your face as the guys face paled and eyes widened. Nobody wants their boss to address them in that way. That means they did something they shouldn’t have and are about to be fired. “Who the fuck do you think you are talking to my wife like that?” he looked down at your hand, noticing the giant diamond ring on your finger and name tag on your desk. ‘Y/N Cameron’ oh fuck. He tried to stammer his way through an explanation, he didn’t know who you were and he was sorry. But Rafe didn’t care, nobody disrespected his wife. You worked your ass off to help him and worked your ass off before he’d even married you to help his company. You were his equal, you deserved the same respect. “I-I’m sorry sir I don’t fucking care. Say you’re sorry and then get the hell out” apparently he didn’t move quick enough because Rafe grabbed him by the back of the neck and harshly pinned him against your desk. He cried out apologies before Rafe threw him to the ground, telling him to get the hell out of his building before he had him thrown out. He wasted no time scrambling to his feet and running out the doors, not even bothering to grab his stuff. You could only bite your lip and smirk, clenching your thighs together. There was something so hot about Rafe protecting you, he walked over to you and grabbed your hand. He’d place a gentle kiss to it and apologize for the employees behavior to which you promised him it was okay, it wasn’t his fault. The gift you wanted to give him? The very same gift you used to lure him in? A remote control to your new vibrating panties. “You’re going to kill me princess, but not before I have you on your knees in front of me. Crying, begging me to stop after about your 20th orgasm”

[kix-mm]

Hey you asked for fear angst things to write. I’m not sure if you wanted an comment on that post or an ask but.

Maybe the tinies are the reason for fear. Like an average person maybe finds themselves in an tiny world. But like the tiny military gets ahold of them. And maybe experiments or uses them as a weapon. Cause sometimes tinys can be scary as heck too.

I imagined a few different scenarios with this prompt! Sorry if this story is a little short, I've been very busy recently, and I'm coming down with the flu!

“Wait- wait! There has to be a misunderstanding!” The alien called in their foreign language, nobody could understand their words, their pleas. Many tried to settle their foreign visitor with little to no success.

It was hard for either parties to trust each other, one was chained, hidden, and exposed to experiments such as sampling and strange studies, they were unable to rest easy and became delirious with time due to the constant trauma and lack of sleep.

The other was subjected to decades of brainwashing, distilling fear of the unknown into their minds ever since they were young. The size difference between the two only made the humans more wary… though over time more and more employees began to speak up. Stating that their experimentation was inhumane and unnecessary.

Eventually those who fought against the cruel treatment gained the upper hand, and all tests were shut down for good. And over time, experts managed to find a way to translate the aliens words, even managing to find a way to reassemble them into new sentences which they then used to communicate with the alien.

It took a long time to gain their trust, but not many will ever be able to forget the fist day of making verbal contact with their visitor…

Professor J. August enters the room. Subject immediately notices their presence and attempts to make themselves as small as possible while pressing their body into a corner. J. August attempts contact.

[Hello? Can you understand me?] Mr August doesn’t attempt to get any closer to subject in hopes to make them more at ease.

Subject looks unmistakably surprised yet remains still, they do not try to communicate in return. Mr August attempts contact again.

[Hello? Can you understand what I’m saying?]

“Y-yes…”

[I’m Professor August, do not worry, I’m not here to cause any harm… none of us here want to hurt you]

There was a long uncomfortable silence before the subject positioned themselves more comfortably, they still seem very wary.

“You did hurt me… you hurt me a lot, I just want to go home, please, please let me go…”

Mr August, along with the majority of his employees look defeated by the pleas… guilt fills the room in silence.

[I know, it was cruel to treat you like so, we promise to release you soon. It’s only right to set you free after all we had done to you. Please know that none of my current employees ever supported this poor treatment.]

The subject aggressively leans forward, the chains tug on their limbs.

“I want to go home! I don’t want your pity! I want to go! Let me go!”

The professor takes a step back and flinches, hastily typing on their tablet before giving up and attempting direct communication in the language.

“You will go home! You will! I promise you that! But please you have to settle down so you don’t scare the authorities into thinking you’re a threat.”

There was another sudden silence between the two. The subject now begins to cry due to their anxiety and high levels of stress. Doctors and scientists suspect that the alien is only a juvenile, around the ages of 12 to 16, treating like the suspected range of age has yielded positive results.

[I’m sorry for my sudden behavior, I didn’t mean to yell at you. I only want to help you and I… I panicked. I don’t want anyone to hurt you anymore.]

“… I didn’t mean to scare anyone… I thought I was the only one that was scared. I’m sorry…”

[it’s not your fault, but please try to stay as calm as possible okay? Then I promise you that everything will go well]

"And if it doesn't...?"

[... you have my word]

The subject doesn't seem too happy with the answer, and it retreats back into its corner.

From then forward, none other than professor August was permitted to communicate with the specimen. Their relationship never improved much despite his efforts to comfort and bond with the child. This never persuaded Professor August to prolong the beings' stay. At the end of that same year, the being was set free.

Unfortunately for earth, it's reputation from then on was permanently tarnished, for not only holding a young child hostage but also torturing it. To this day, every other species has deemed this planet unnegotiable due to their false promises and brutal treatment to their own species and those of any other...

[percyposting]

Now while I am of course critical of them as characters, I’m not that crazy about when people, when talking about Percy and his family, either put all the blame on one side or the other. Like, when people who don’t take the time to understand Percy’s perspective will say he was unjust and didn’t love his family and a scorn upon the Weasleys, which is obviously a very black and white and incorrect perspective on his character which literally is incorrect when you reference the canon. But on the other hand, I don’t always agree with some of the ways people defend him, either, because a lot of those statements are also black and white; for example when people say Arthur is a terrible father, or that Percy’s siblings are unwaveringly cruel, or that Percy didn’t make any mistake/he was imperiused. I especially hateeeee that last theory specifically because it really undermines everything that he was going through during the course of the story and does more damage to his character than anything. He made the choices he did not because he’s a bad person but because he was like nineteen and wasn’t being listened to and he was being manipulated by the individual Minister’s he worked under because they were targeting his biggest weakness which is that he comes from a poor family that have been labeled as ‘blood-traitors’ and because of that, he was not born with as many opportunities that others are, and this clearly effects him as he brings it up during his argument with Arthur. He blames Arthur for their struggles, while he is wrong about this it’s not like he’s given much help to see why he’s wrong. Percy is naive and believes he’s smarter than he is (not slander of course, like these are very reasonable things to be as a 18-19 year old) so it leads to him thinking he understands how the world works but really he’s stuck in this box his government/society has built around him. And I think the rest of the Weasley’s are only a tad bit more enlightened, because they don’t seem to recognize this. They just don’t realize that Percy is just as much a victim of this system as they are, and can’t help but point fingers and resent one another.

I wouldn’t say any one of the Weasley’s are really at any major fault here. Percy misunderstands that the reason he’s struggling is not because his father’s lack of effort in his work or in providing for his family, but it’s because his father is actually a decent employee but the institution he works for will never give him any benefits or a raise because they hate him and his family. This is one of the major reasons for Percy’s split between his family, and it’s not his fault, nor his family’s fault, it’s the fault of the pureblood aka oppressive and corrupt society that they live in that actively promotes their downfall. Along with any other person that doesn’t match their blood purist beliefs.

I don’t think any of the Weasleys hated each other. I believe they loved each other VERY much, and the forces actively and canonically working against them nearly succeeded in tearing their family — but in the end they ultimately failed because that the Weasley’s truly do love each other and never wanted to be split apart. That’s what I think people miss when they attempt to defend one or the other: they misunderstand that no one is the villain but corruption, manipulation, and misplaced blame. Percy was young and tricked into believing something hopeful after his entire future was almost crushed (Barty Crouch Snr’s death and the subsequent investigation). Arthur didn’t want to believe his son would actually align himself with the enemy and tried to get Percy to understand the truth, but this only causes more friction because he goes about it wrong, instead insulting Percy’s capabilities, which are his most tender subject. And Percy’s siblings grew up in a loud, chaotic house where there wasn’t enough validation to go around, so they accidentally began resenting each other as time went on, most of the time because one was getting what the other wanted or (like Percy getting constant praise and attention for his academic achievements while the twins watch, waiting to be scolded for ‘not being successful like Percy.’) These are common family difficulties! They’re very realistic. And I don’t think it points to anyone being the bad guy, just that they may have said and did some bad or hurtful things, but by the end of the book most of these things are resolved because the Weasleys find each other again and go “I’m sorry, I love you, and I forgive you.”

[beebeetheclown]

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

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

- he was being too cocky

- dirty talk went too far

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

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

One Shot Request

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

Contains: smut, Kendall Roy being cocky…😏

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll try my best.” You reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just get on with it.”

“My brother. He wants to fuck you.”

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

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

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

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

“So, you encouraged him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, I’m sorry?”

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

“You heard?”

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

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

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

“I guess so.” He replies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Prove it then.”

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

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

“But you like it.”

“No, I don’t”

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

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

“Actually, there is one more thing.”

Oh great.

“And what is that?” You ask.

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

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

“Uh huh, that’s right.”

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

“Deal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He doesn’t reply, he just grins again.

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

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

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

“Someone could walk in at any moment.”

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

“Well, someone could hear us.”

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

Okay, fuck you.”

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

“Just fuck me before I change my mind.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Just shut up.” You whine.

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

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

“Why?”

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

“Because- you’re… Kendall Roy.”

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

“I am not stubborn.”

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

“No- fuck you.”

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

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

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

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

“Good, but never again.”

“Sure… right.”

“You don’t believe me?”

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

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

[bray-washed]

Some of you are gonna hate this, disagree with this, get mad at this. Whatever.

Let me say from the jump: CM Punk, 100% should not have assaulted his coworker. Should not have. That’s a fact.

HOWEVER, and this is in no way excusing the actions but this is not ALL his fault like everyone is saying. This entire scenario was building because TK cannot be a boss, that’s not to say TK is a bad person - by all accounts TK is known to be a good person just not a good boss. In TK’s defense (& being in the wrestling business as a booker & promoter myself) it’s hard to be a boss to your friends, because that’s what happened his employees became his friends and that’s a hard position to be put into; however, that does not mean he needs to neglect his duty as a boss and he clearly has. (& in my opinion, is being taken advantage of by people who are using him for his money but that’s a different conversation)

Watching that footage, it’s clear to see that CM Punk was telling the truth. Point blank, what he said happened that night, happened. So that leads me to believe that everything else leading up to that moment also happened. We can’t (conveniently) hear what’s being said but I would guess Jack said something that angered Punk - neither were really showing aggressive behavior, maybe when Jack went to turn away from Punk in the beginning & Punk pulled him back - but like? Jack was turning away mid conversation if I, as a veteran, was trying to talk to a new kids about something & they turned away from me? Yea, I’d pull them back… cause the entitlement is not happening absolutely now.

Seems to me like Jack Perry was being uncooperative from the get-go. Why? Who knows. That’s the real speculation, Punk will say it’s cause of his “friends” (the Young Bucks) influence which is a fair speculation but it could be anything. Jack Perry is young & dumb & is probably forming some kind of ego of “I know better than the old timers” every wrestler gets that mentality for a little while and they need to grow up & out of that mentality.

Punk comes from the era of wrestling where if you talk shit, you get hit - fuck around & find out, if you will… and I as well come from that era & mentality, being a professional is first on my list so I’ve never gotten into a physical fight but it doesn’t shock me or fill me with rage when it does happen - not saying it should but some people need to have those consequences come to light. Jack fucked around and Jack found out.

Now, whatever Punk said to TK, no clue… I don’t think just watching that that TK can say that he feared for his life there was nothing to fear there. Now, we can’t hear anything & I’m sure yelling was happening… but fearing for his life? Be so for real right now Tony, honey, you run a wrestling locker room… arguing is bound to happen… relax.

Genuinely, this showed most of us nothing & I don’t think it did anything to benefit AEW. AEW is just trying to fight fire with fire, for no reason. If TK wants to run a “business” then… do that. Want to know what WWE 100% would never do? Show footage of a former employee in a fight backstage. When all that nonsense when Punk left happened… did WWE show footage of Punk leaving to “prove a point”? No. Ditto for Steve Austin - who ALSO famously took his ball & went home and WWE has camera crew literally everywhere… there have been TONS of fights most likely caught on camera but we’ll never see them why? Cause they are a business.

I think this was a bad idea all around… but that’s just me.

(But also can we please talk about Samoa Joe just pacing back & forth, minding his business, getting pumped for his match…. I don’t know why but that just made me love him more.)

[showtoonzfan]

A problem with helluva boss is they take conflicts that initially appeared to be due to character flaws, and reveals that actually its due to misunderstandings or someone else’s fault.

And maybe that was always the plan. But it makes the character drama far less interesting.

Yup, 100% agreed. I think people fail to realize that what made Stolas and Blitz interesting in the first place was because Stolas was painted as this flawed man who hurt his family, and Blitz was someone who hurt people in the past. People liked them because the drama was genuinely juicy regarding these two being bad people, same goes for their relationship. People liked them BECAUSE it was a weird pairing and because they were both faced with the consequences of their actions, but season 2 just twists everything to “actually it wasn’t their fault and you should feel bad for them because they were traumatized, also their relationship is lovey dovey and they care”- which completely erases the said flaws they had, now they’re boring characters because it’s obvious on who the writers want you to root for and who they don’t. (Cough, Striker, Stella)

It really shows how tone death Vivzie is, for some reason she’s genuinely convinced she’s writing flawed unapologetic characters when the only characters that are like that are the villains. She and her fanbase love to say we can’t handle flawed characters and I WISH her characters were flawed, I fucking wish they actually did bad things but no. Stolas cheating on his wife was okay because she was already abusive. Blitz ruining his relationship with Barbie and Fizz is okay because he didn’t actually start the fire. Blitz treating his employees like shit is okay because he’s actually “sweet” and cares. Viv is convinced on making her main characters the good guys, and the villains the bad guys, there’s no in between, and she should stop spouting about how we can’t handle messy characters and come back when she’s actually created a character that has done messy evil things WITHOUT it being excused.

[c-jay-s-text-posts-only]

A Special Mission

Written with permission from @juanarc-thethird

With further inspiration from @riku-izanami

Late one evening, team RWBY were hiding in the bushes. They were waiting for Jaune, Nora, Ren, and Oscar to return from the Schnee Family’s estate; their goal - to cut a long introduction short - was to extort money from Weiss’ Father. He’d cut her allowance off again; as usual, without good reason, and was content not to restore it.

He’d cut Winter off as well - which everyone involved thought was strange, so the two sisters consulted together, and hatched a plan.

Time passed, and Weiss was getting more and more worried.

As far as she was concerned, they were taking too long.

“Do you really think they’re okay?” She asked for the umpteenth time,

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Ruby patted her shoulder, “I’ve been travelling with them for-like-ever now, they know what they’re doing.”

“I hope you’re right . . .” Weiss conceded, but she still felt uncomfortable,

“I’m more concerned about how this was all your idea.” Remarked Blake, “I know you don’t like your father, but I never thought you’d go so far as to blackmail him to fund our adventures.”

“Yeah, I’m with Blake on this one.” Put-in Yang, “We know how screwed up your family is, but this is pretty sick!”

“Yes . . . we’re a messy house.” Weiss agreed with a sigh, “But if he’s going to say that I’m not a member of the Schnee Family anymore, then he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

Just then, they all heard the sound of an approaching vehicle, and they poked their heads out to see.

A large, double-wide military van cruised along the road towards them; Ruby whipped Crescent Rose and peered through the scope. She could see Ren and Oscar in the front, while Nora, who popped her head out of the moonroof, turned around to wave at them.

Ren brought the van to a stop when he saw Ruby go out into the middle of the road.

“We’re back!” Shouted Nora, “Did we miss anything?!”

“Nope!” Yang popped the ‘p’, “Thing’s’re movin’ a mile-a-minute around here.”

“Sweet, ‘cuz have we got a lot to tell you all!” Nora vaulted herself from the roof of the van, and executed a perfect mid-air tumble.

She landed easily in front of them. Ren and Oscar just opened their doors and stepped out.

Ruby was excited.

“So how’d it go?” She asked, “Did you get the money?”

Nora’s winning smile faltered.

“Y- . . . yeah . . . about that . . .” She began, “We- uh . . . we didn’t . . . we didn’t get anything . . .”

“What?!” Weiss couldn’t believe it, “What was the point of this mission then? What happened?!”

“Look, it’s not our fault!” Nora insisted defensively, “He’s a horrible person! Now I get why you wanted to blackmail him so bad!”

“Well that makes three of us now.” Muttered Blake,

“Okay, tell us what happened from the start-” Yang tried,

“No, seriously, I can’t believe he’d be so ruthless!” But Nora wasn’t finished, “Like, everything he did to his own employees and family?! It’s terrifying! People like your father are the ones you have to stay away from!

“Nora!” Yang interrupted, “Just tell us what happened already!”

“Okay-okay-okay!” And Nora took a breath to calm down, “We just went there, and then we gave him the run-down, y’know, like: ‘pay us this much, and we’ll keep our mouths shut’, blah-blah-blah.”

“Uh-huh . . .” Nodded Ruby,

“Sounds about right.” Yang nodded as well,

“But then he kinda, sorta got angry . . .” Continued Nora, “so then I got cheesed . . .”

“. . . Okay . . .?” Weiss was growing concerned.

Nora raised her eyebrows and glanced away.

“And then . . . things kinda just . . . went from there . . .”

Team RWBY exchanged worried looks.

“You-” Weiss tried, “You didn’t threaten to break his legs, did you?”

Nora gasped dramatically.

“I am oh-ffended!” She exclaimed, putting a hand on her chest, “Of course, you know I totally did . . .”

“Alright, then did you actually break his legs?” Asked Blake,

“Of course I didn’t!” Nora looked even more offended, “What kind of violent woman do you take me for?!”

No one had an answer; secretly, Weiss was relieved to know Nora hadn’t gone that far.

“Well, thank the Gods for that.” She murmured,

“But we did kidnap his wife~!” Nora’s eyes lit up,

“You what?!” Weiss exclaimed,

“You did what?!” Yang's eyes popped open.

Nora giggled excitedly and meandered over to the back of the van. With a click, the doors opened, revealing a fine rump firmly straddling a well-known waist - the boots and pants stuck out from underneath her. A wet, sucking noise cut through the air from behind the seats.

Weiss was horrified.

“Mother!?” She shrieked,

“Oh shit!” Yang’s jaw hit the ground,

“Woah . . .” Blake was surprised,

“Yo . . . I didn’t know he could work it like that . . .” Ruby whispered.

Willow sat up and turned around when she realised someone had called her; now everyone could see how she looked.

Her hair was let down and dishevelled, flowing freely past her shoulders. She had taken off her blue jacket, and her blouse was open, but not enough to expose anything indecent, just the impossibly deep valley of her chest - which Weiss would only very quietly admit to being jealous of.

“Oh!” Willow brushed a few strands of hair away, “Hello Daughter. I didn’t realise we’d gotten here so soon, no one told me . . .”

“Too soon . . .” A familiar voice from near Willow cracked and sighed dreamily.

“Yeah sorry, Ma’am." Nora apologised, thoroughly unabashed, “Didn’t wanna interrupt the uh- y’know . . .”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, but Willow just gave her a warm smile.

“Please, sweetheart.” She said, “Call me by my name. It’s really the least I can let you do, considering everything you’ve all done for me.”

“Please, don’t stop on our account.” Blake thought this was very funny.

Weiss found her voice again and addressed her issue calmly.

“Mother, why are you kissing . . . him?” It was very difficult for Weiss to ask without wanting to throw up in her own mouth.

Willow gave Weiss a perplexed look.

“I had to pass the time somehow, didn’t I?” She told her, as if it was the most obvious thing, “Besides, he’s actually quite charming. I’d have been a fool to stay back at the Manor and let this gorgeous, young man walk away.”

The familiar voice gasped like he’d just seen something amazing, and he sat up a little, just enough for the others to see the expression on his face. Jaune's lips seemed brighter in the low light, and his cheeks and chin were smeared with pink lipstick; a lonely mark stood proudly out on his forehead.

“You really think I'm gorgeous?” His smile looked hopeful.

Willow turned back to him, returning an all too tender smile, and gently stroked the underside of his cheek; her eyes twinkled in a sweet and unbridled way.

“Of course, Love.” Willow nodded.

Jaune flopped back down and giggled in such a giddy fashion, even kicking his feet like a little girl. Willow tittered along with him; it was so cute to her. Yang thought it was almost adorable.

‘Man, if only I didn't already know why he's so happy.’ She mused, ‘. . . It's really sad now that I think about it.’

“Oh come on, Mother!” Interrupted Weiss, “Jaune of all people?!”

Willow looked a little surprised and switched her gaze between Jaune and her daughter.

“Jaune?” She asked, “This the annoying boy you wrote to us about?”

“Yes, that's him!” Weiss nodded fervently.

Jaune looked embarrassed; he hated remembering how foolish he’d been back in those days. But Willow just cupped Jaune’s face, eyeing him analytically.

“Hmmm . . . well, he’s more handsome than you'd let on.” She appraised, “And he’s hardly scraggly. He's quite well-built and kept. He’s also been nothing short of the perfect gentleman since he and his friends helped me escape.”

“What?” Weiss felt her world begin to crumble,

“Oh- and his hands have only ever been right where they needed to be.” Willow smirked coyly, "He's also very huggable and warm, it's just what I needed after all this time."

“Um-” Ruby raised a finger,

“Around my shoulders or on my back.” Willow clarified, “He asked permission before touching anything else.”

“Oh-” Ruby lowered her finger, “Wooowwwww . . .”

“Excuse me!” Weiss tried to argue, “Are we forgetting who this is?! He was scraggly when we met!”

“Well, he’s clearly not anymore.” Willow furrowed her brow, then broke into a teasing smile, “Weiss you're looking at-”

She stopped for a moment and turned to Nora.

“Um, what is it you young people call it?” She asked, “A beef tart- no, pie, was it?"

“Uh- Beef cake.” Nora corrected her, “Close enough.”

“Ooh yes, that’s it!” Willow snapped her fingers, “He’s a proper Beef cake. Not over-muscled, but not too frail either. And he’s the perfect height too!”

The others couldn't see it, but Jaune’s face had turned as red as Ruby’s cloak. He felt so loved.

“D’oh, stop it!” He crooned, “You’ll make me blush!”

“You dunce, you'd blush for just about anything, wouldn't you?!” Snapped Weiss,

“Weiss,” Her mother warned, “He’s not a dunce, he’s a dear. But if he’s to wear the dunce cap for anyone, it will be for me.”

Willow turned back to Jaune, tickling his chin.

“Now, darling, be a good boy, and bring those wonderful lips back to Mommy.” She licked her own,

“Woof!” Jaune’s voice cracked a little.

Just as their lips were about to touch.

“Mother, stop it!” Weiss was ready to rip her hair out.

Willow, exasperated, rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Oh relax, will you, Dear.” She chided, still stroking Jaune’s face, “It’s not as if you two are together.”

“That’s as may be!” Admitted Weiss blushing, “But he’s still my friend!”

“A friend you regularly spurned if my memory serves correctly.” Willow's reminder was firm, “Who was it complaining about his every advance in her letters? Not me, certainly. I wasn’t there, but if I had been, I’d have urged you to say yes. Or I'd have taken him out myself, perhaps.”

“YOOOOOOOOOO-!!” Yang, Nora, and Ruby shrilled, none of them could believe their ears.

Willow Schnee thought Jaune Arc was attractive?

A billionaire woman liked - for lack of a better word - a bumpkin?

What had happened to the world since team RNJR started their adventures together?

And not only that!

In spite of her constant drinking, Willow had read the letters Weiss wrote home. She had been paying attention to her after all.

Now that really topped it off!

Weiss shrunk back a little.

Deep down, she knew her mother was right. Although she had apologised to Jaune for being so rude in the early days, she had a very sinking feeling that he hadn’t accepted it.

Now she worried Jaune was doing this just to spite her.

Weiss would admit she knew next to nothing about boys outside of what Winter, Klein, and her father had told her, and what she had seen in Whitley.

Most of it had been not promising - Klein notwithstanding of course, because he was always so wonderful - and it led her to believe all boys had a sordid, icky endgame, one which only they would benefit from. So, Weiss had opted to stay away from them.

Despite of the forewarning, she had briefly dropped her guard and pursued Neptune back at Beacon, but that was ancient history now. There were bigger fish to fry, and romance was not among the cards as far as she was concerned.

While Weiss stewed in her thoughts, Oscar and Ren gave their friends a proper run-down of what had happened.

It was just as Nora said.

They went to the Manor and were invited inside. They spoke to Jacques and laid out their proposal, but as it turned out, he was already prepared for the blackmail they had, and he threatened to call the police after having them escorted out.

So, the team had to fall back and rethink their strategy. But as they made their daring getaway, they came across Willow; she had seen and heard everything and was desperate to get away as well.

She even promised to help with blackmailing Jacques further, which everyone thought was hilarious, and immediately invited her along. When they jumped into the van, Nora noticed how Willow was acting, and - in her infinite wisdom - offered Jaune to her, mostly so she could let out her frustrations. She knew Jaune was good for venting.

Ren was too, but he was her man.

So it was arranged.

Jaune and Willow took the seats in the very back of the van, while Ren drove with Oscar in the passenger seat.

Nora stayed between both parties and decided to watch their six, occasionally poking her head out and very suspiciously eyeing Schnee Manor while they drove away, as if the whole mansion, grounds and all, might get up and chase after them.

Jaune stayed huddled with Willow, keeping her company. He'd done this sort of thing before; comforting people came easily to him.

Now because Nora was too busy keeping a lookout from the moonroof, and Ren and Oscar kept their eyes on the road, none of them had seen what was going on between Jaune and Willow; until Nora came back down and heard a noise, a very distinct smooching noise, so she peered over the seat to look.

As soon as she saw it, Nora wanted to whoop and cheer for Jaune; seeing him lock lips with Willow Schnee of all people was equally as amazing as it was funny - his luck really seemed to hold out as far as mothers were concerned, and Weiss’ was definitely no exception.

But what really made Nora happy was the look on Jaune’s face after they shared their first kiss.

They had all been through so much since The Fall; everyone knew Jaune blamed himself for damn-near all of it - both she and Ren knew this was mostly because he felt guilty about Pyrrha.

And when she saw Jaune open his eyes again, Nora saw a spark in them.

One she was sure had been snuffed out some time ago.

Nora was so happy she nearly couldn’t contain herself, but she knew they had to be quiet, so telling the others about it would have to wait, at least until they were far enough away. But by the time they were, they had arrived back to their friends.

Weiss began feeling very light-headed.

“I don’t like to be that person.” Oscar called to Willow and Jaune, “But it's time we left. They’ll have caught on to us by now.”

Willow let out a disappointed whine, and accidentally wiggled her hips on Jaune as she adjusted herself.

“Oh, please, just five more minutes?” She begged, “We’ve finally come to a-”

Willow stopped when she felt something poke up behind her.

Something big. And thick.

“Oh~,” She purred,

“Sorry . . .” Jaune looked most embarrassed.

But Willow didn’t mind at all.

“Make it ten.” She bit her lip, “I doubt any road will be smooth enough for what I want to do next~.”

“Ew.” Weiss’ frown was so broad, Blake thought her mouth might fall off.

“Make it fifteen!” Ruby piped up, “I want in!”

“What?!” Demanded Weiss,

“The fuck!?” Yang’s eyes popped open.

To everyone's shock, Willow looked excited.

“Oh my, yes!” Undaunted, she pushed the back seat down, allowing for more space in the van, “The more, the merrier.”

“YES!” Ruby pumped her fist, then stuck her finger up Yang's nose, "IN! YO! FACE!"

And with a flourish, she used her semblance to close the gap; dashing inside and slamming the door behind her before Yang could do anything. The van rocked and creaked as the three of them started going at it. Weiss and Yang were speechless.

“This might just about the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.” Nora was happy for Jaune,

“I think this is the quietest it’s even been between these two.” Blake pointed to Yang and Weiss,

“WWWHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!” Wailed Yang,

“And there it goes . . .” Blake sighed,

“Why do these things keep happening to me?!” Weiss couldn’t believe it, “I go to Beacon, I don't get to lead! I see a nice boy, but he's a dirty flirt! And then Beacon is destroyed, I'm forced to come back here, help save the world-”

Weiss was so upset, she couldn't stop thinking about everything she'd seen go wrong.

“Be strong, Weiss,” Yang wrapped her weakly into a hug, “We’ll get through this together!”

“Shut up, don’t touch me!” Weiss hugged her back,

“I don’t want to be the one who jinxes it,” Ventured Ren, “But things could’ve been worse . . .”

“Oh, worse, how?!” Demanded Yang,

“Could’ve been?!” Weiss was indignant, “I fail to see-!? ”

“Winter and Raven.” Blake figured.

Weiss gagged, and Yang snarled; both girls tightened their grip on each other.

“Well . . .” Nora rocked back and forth on her toes, “I can’t speak for Raven, but . . .”

“But what?!” Snapped Weiss, “Out with it!”

“I mean-” Nora pretended to think carefully about what to say next, “How do you think we got the van?”

Weiss turned as white as her hair.

“Dear God . . .” Muttered Blake,

“There’s more . . .” Added Oscar,

“Nooo . . .” Groaned Yang, “No mo-ho-ho-ho-ore . . . It was enough to know that this guy fucks! And that my baby sister wants to too!”

A symphony of sweet moans rang out from the van.

“AAOOHH GODS, SHUT THEM UP!” Yang couldn’t take it anymore,

“Yeah, Winter’s arranged to see him soon.” Oscar said quickly, “Either after we escape Atlas, or when we meet her later. We have to keep the van somehow-”

“NNNOOOOO!” With that final sob, Weiss passed out in Yang’s arms.

“YES~!” Willow trilled from inside the van,

“And-now THIS is a katana~!” Hollered Ruby.

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A very awkward thirty minutes later, Weiss woke up, and the teams were on their way to a safe haven, far away from Schnee Manor. The ride was quiet, aside from the tires humming on the road beneath them.

Both Weiss and Yang were upset - Weiss more so than Yang, but that still didn’t mean it was something to sneeze at.

Jaune could feel Weiss’ angry eyes boring holes into him.

“Um-” He tried,

“Not!” Weiss interrupted, “A word out of you.”

The message received, Jaune shrank into himself, and shut his mouth. Strangely, Blake stepped up to defend him.

“You can’t be mad at him, Weiss.” She said, “He didn’t do anything wrong really.”

“Oh, can’t I?” Snorted Weiss, “Nothing wrong, indeed!”

“You heard what Ren and Nora said,” Blake reminded her, “He was only doing what he could to cheer her up.”

“He didn’t even try to stop kissing my mother.” Weiss was not having it, “But he did it for her, because it made her happy, so I can’t be mad at him for that now can I?!”

Jaune wanted to say something.

“I-” He tried again,

“Shut up!” Weiss interrupted again.

Once more, Jaune deflated. This time, Ren defended him.

“I think this has more to do with being repressed than anything else.” He reasoned from the driver’s seat, “Your mother went years without the touch of a loved one or a true lover. Jaune is willing to fill that role for her.”

Yang spotted the chance for a dirty joke, but didn't dare take it.

“And Jaune’s always thinking about what’s best for us.” Oscar put-in from the passenger seat,

“Annd he still has to bang your sister for the van in a while.” Nora added, almost too chipperly,

“Not helping, Nora, but thank you.” Ren called,

“Look, can we not talk about banging each other’s sisters for a sec?” Yang was feeling enormously uncomfortable.

Weiss was still upset.

“Well, he might’ve held better control over himself!” She said huffily, “And that- um, other sword of his . . .”

Jaune shifted awkwardly in his seat, but relaxed a little when Willow’s arms snaked discreetly over his shoulders. Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice.

“Alright, I hate to be on Vee-Bee’s side,” Yang admitted, “But I can’t really judge him either.”

At that moment, Ruby popped her head up from behind the seat next to Jaune; she was most eager to hear this.

Weiss was taken aback.

“Excuse me!” She put a hand on her chest,

“Weissy, have you seen your mother lately?” Yang asked, “Like, actually looked at her from head to toe?”

“What has that got to do with-” Weiss tried to brush it off,

“Weiss, your mom is hot.” Yang said bluntly, “There’s no easy way for me to say this.”

Weiss was appalled and speechless. Because she didn’t say anything, Yang took that as her cue to continue.

“I mean, look at her,” She insisted, “like, really look at her! She’s pretty, she has boobs as big as mine, a slim waist, and butt so fine, Blake almost looks a little small next to it-”

The words were out of Yang’s mouth before she could stop herself. Blake raised her eyebrows in a challenging way.

“Careful . . .” She warned,

“Sorry,” And Yang continued, “But I seriously can’t blame Jaune, looking at this objectively anyway. If I was a man with a working pair of eyes, your mom would give me a hard-on too. Hell, I like girls too, and she's doing me favours just being here with us!”

Willow blushed and smirked proudly behind Jaune’s head, she felt very flattered. Until now, she and Ruby had been quietly recovering out of the others’ sight.

“Um . . . thank you?” Jaune shrugged, unsure of what was going on just then.

Yang gave him a very pointed look.

“You’re still not off the hook with me, dude.” She said, shaking her head.

Once more, Jaune recoiled and sighed.

“Anyways, the point is there’s nothing we can do about this now.” Blake explained, “What’s done is done, and we should be focused on the real issue. How are we going to get money for our adventure?”

“Ideas, anyone?” Oscar asked, turning around to face his friends,

“Become professional jewel thieves?” Suggested Yang,

“Stage a series of bank robberies?” Weiss considered,

“Become prostitutes!” Declared Nora,

“WHAT?!” All the other girls were disgusted,

“What?” Nora shrugged, “It’s legal in Mantle.”

“. . . Seconded, I guess . . .” Ren muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jaune knew this was only so he could keep an eye on Nora - if push came to shove. It had been her idea, after all.

Ruby shook her head.

“Okay, let’s try this again,” Ruby piped up for the first time in a while, “do we have any legal ideas?”

Willow, who hadn’t said anything either, poked her head out and calmly intervened.

“My dear, if you needed money, you should have just asked me.” She said, addressing Weiss specifically.

Everyone stopped fussing for a moment, and flipped their gaze between Weiss and her mother. Collectively, they all ignored where Willow’s hands were resting.

“I . . . I could have?” Weiss seemed surprised,

“Of course!” Willow assured her, “Whatever made you think you couldn’t?”

Weiss looked down and mumbled; she looked a little hurt.

“I . . . I didn’t think you’d answer if I did the asking . . .” She said quietly.

Willow smiled kindly.

“Weiss, you’re my daughter.” She said, “My sweet, darling girl. I know you may not think I would, but I’d do anything for you if you asked. I’m not your father, but like you and everyone else, I’ve been hurt by him too.”

‘. . . Oh . . .’

Jaune looked a little to the left and reached up, gently clutching her hand, he brushed his thumb over her own; Willow accepted the gesture, and their fingers twined.

Once again, Weiss was speechless. She didn’t know what to think. For so long, Willow had made herself an invalid, in Weiss’ eyes, and now to see her coming back to life in such a profound way . . .

To see her coming back into her life . . .

It was moving . . .

“Thank you . . .” Weiss nearly wanted to cry.

At last, they arrived at Atlas’ Edge. This was like a border crossing for the Kingdoms of Atlas and Mantle; some of the airships travelling between the two kingdoms were big enough to carry small vehicles, like cars and pick-up trucks.

Now, the general public had their own fleet of airships for basic travel, but authorised personnel, such as Atlas Specialists and certain huntsmen still affiliated with the military, were transported using different ones. These were twice the size of the others, big enough in fact to carry military equipment like weapons, dust shipments, and, of course, the double-wide vans.

Willow directed Ren towards the authorised airships, and he gently cruised the van to a stop. Everyone got out and stretched their legs, and after a few minutes, they saw Winter come out from the shadows. Weiss was relieved to see her big sister.

“Winter!” She called.

Winter wasted no time and gave her sister a hug.

“I’m glad to see you made it out safely.” She said, hugging Weiss back, “All of you. We’ll be taking you to Doctor Polendina’s Pharmacy, you can lay low there until this situation blows over.”

“Thank you, Winter.” Weiss was grateful,

“Phew!” Remarked Nora, “That’ll be great. Your dad sucks, bee-tee-dubz.”

“What?” Winter blinked, “Oh yes, um, you’re right, he does.”

“Hold on, who’s we?” Asked Blake.

Before Winter could answer, an airship drew smoothly into the dock, and the ramp lowered.

“I can fly an airship.” She explained, “But I knew I should wait out here to make sure you arrived on time. Specialist Amin is in the cockpit now. Speaking of which, by the way, you’re late.”

Weiss gulped. Although she knew the teams were in a hurry, she hadn’t known how close they’d cut it.

“Five minutes behind schedule, what kept you?” Winter demanded.

“Five minutes isn't too bad though, is it?” Asked Ruby.

At that moment, Winter spotted her and Willow limping into view.

“What happened to them?” She was concerned,

“We- uh, heh-heh . . . we kinda had a little fun on the way?” Ruby chuckled, abashed,

“Fun?” Winter raised an eyebrow, “You two? Together?”

“Well yes, my dear,” Willow smiled, “Jaune was quite good to us both.”

Winter’s forehead wrinkled somewhat, she looked stern.

“But mother~,” She almost whined in a petulant way, “I thought we agreed I’d be the first to do it!”

Weiss’ eyes nearly fell out of her head.

‘Nora hadn’t lied?!’ She realised.

“I’m sorry, Winter.” Willow apologised earnestly, “But we both know he’s just what we need.”

Winter pouted uncharacteristically.

“. . . Fine.” She sighed, then turned to Jaune, “In that case, I have a favour to ask.”

“Uhh . . . yes, Ma’am?” He looked a little nervous,

“I’ll be needing you, your friend in green, and Specialist Amin.” Winter said firmly, “In the van after we load it up.”

“Oh.” Blake was stunned,

“. . . Uuuuhhhh . . .” Yang had no words,

“All three-?!” If Weiss’ jaw hadn’t dropped before, it’d have fallen from the cliff when she heard Winter say that.

Ruby had jumped back into the van to help Marrow and Nora load it up, so she hadn’t heard anything. Neither Yang nor Blake nor Oscar could believe it themselves, there was so much going on!

Since when was Jaune so good with cold women?

Jaune had nothing to say himself, he just gulped; once again, he could feel Weiss’ angry eyes boring holes into him. Ren was nervous too, the look in Winter’s eyes was a hungry one, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

“Altogether, they’ll suit my purposes.” Winter stated, matter-of-factly, “We still have approximately thirty minutes before our scheduled departure time.”

“Um, I- I don’t think my girlfriend would-” Ren tried, blushing brighter than anyone thought was possible,

“How much are you willing to offer?” Nora had bounded over before anyone noticed, she had heard everything.

Both Willow and Winter smirked.

“How ever much you’d like.” They said together.

Nora’s eyes lit up and sparkled like fireworks.

“YOU GOTTA DEAL!” And with both hands, she shook Winter and Willow’s, and then she turned to her teammates, “ALRIGHTY BWOIS, GET IN THERE!”

And reeling her hands back, she slapped their backsides harder than intended. Jaune and Ren yelped and stared in utter disbelief as Nora, unabashed as ever, ran back to the hull of the airship.

“HEY, BISCUIT-BREATH!” She hollered at Marrow, “GET YOUR TAIL DOWN HERE, MISS WINTER’S ASKED FOR YOUR HELP!”

How could it have gone so far?

“Jaune?” Ren gulped, “I’m both scared and aroused . . . what do I do?”

Jaune just shook his head.

“I’unno, dude.” He sighed, “Let’s just get it going . . .”

And cracking his neck, Jaune made his way over to the hull. Ren quietly followed him. Winter kept on smirking and led them on, swaying her hips as she went.

Willow gazed proudly at them all.

“That’s my eldest.” She smiled, then she had a thought, “Do you know? I think I’ll go watch them.”

And with that, Willow headed for the airship as well.

Everyone who remained outside couldn’t help staring as Marrow dropped down from a higher level and clambered excitedly into the van.

Yang ventured over to where Weiss was standing.

“Uhh . . . Weissy?” She asked carefully, “Are you okay?”

Weiss didn’t answer.

“Weiss?” Yang tried again.

Still nothing happened.

“I think we need to give her some time.” Blake patted her shoulder, “I don’t know how I’d take it if my mother wanted to have um, relations, with Jaune of all people.”

Yang agreed. It would be a very jarring moment.

Although Yang would also admit, she knew she would be very angry if she found out Raven wanted to spend time with Jaune like that. And Gods forbid if Summer were still around!

She wouldn't excuse it, no matter how much he looked like her father.

“We should get on board.” Said Oscar, “We’re still escaping.”

Yang and Blake nodded at each other, and scooping up Weiss, they scrambled up the ramp and entered the airship. As they did, Oscar thought of something.

“Hey, where’d Ruby go?” He asked.

Yang and Blake looked around. Sure enough, Ruby was nowhere to be seen. Then Blake remembered.

“Wasn’t she helping load the van?” She pointed out,

“Yeah!” Yang snapped her fingers, “So she has to be in the-”

She stopped short.

“I remember seeing her get in the van, but I don’t remember seeing her get out . . .” Blake pointed out.

Yang stood stock-still for a moment.

“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!” She shrieked at last.

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

i love my mom but man does it suck when she starts talking to me about god shit. because it always leads to her trying to guilt trip me into being more religious, saying things like, “it makes your dad and i very sad that you don’t believe in god” and “you’re depressed like this because you don’t talk to god.” when i tell her that choosing not to go to church anymore is one of the few choices in my life that i don’t regret, she gets upset with me. sorry, going to go on a little bit of a rant about family and religion here (specifically catholic/christian), but i’ll stick it below the cut.

usually this convo comes up when my cousin is mentioned, because my mom and my aunt will gush about how my cousin goes to church every sunday. this happened today actually. they ignore the fact that my cousin is still a horribly spoiled, selfish, honestly terrible person who yells at/doesn’t bother to help her physically disabled, sickly mom. my “wonderful church-going” cousin who left to go on a vacation to hawaii with my shit uncle, leaving my aunt alone at home even though she had covid AND had recently broken her back. which led to me having to take 2 weeks off of work at the last minute to go stay with my aunt and take care of her. during those 2 weeks, my “wonderful” 20-something-year-old cousin would repeatedly call my aunt to cry and complain that she wanted to come home because she “didn’t feel good.” and my aunt, laying in bed with her broken back and various other health issues, would baby her. oh, but my cousin goes to church, so that means she’s such a good person! i just don’t get it.

one of the reasons i refuse to go to church anymore is because of this backwards-ass hypocritical way of thinking so many people there seem to have. there’s just this feeling of insincerity to it all where people show up once a week to pat themselves on the back for being “good people”, then gather in the lobby after mass to gossip about the one trans woman who recently joined the congregation (unfortunately this isn’t an example i made up). or later go to the supermarket and yell at an underpaid employee. or go on a hawaii vacation and leave your mom home alone with a broken back.

i attended church from age 1 to age 18. as i grew older, church started to feel more and more suffocating. it got to the point where i was having anxiety attacks during mass. i tried distracting myself with drawing on the pamphlets given out at the front door. and when i was banned from that, i resorted to drawing on my skin, which didn’t last long. i ended up sneaking earbuds in and hiding the wires under my hair and clothes so i could drown out the sounds of church with music. i would just stare at the floor and try to just focusing on breathing, but it was just all too suffocating. i was told that the reason i was feeling and acting this way in church was because “the devil was talking to me.” “the devil” was trying to take me away from church and god, so i needed to stop feeling like this and just pray. that time i started crying in the pew because it all became too much and i felt incredibly overwhelmed? that’s the devil. pray about it. uh, actually, mr. jesus, it was because i have bad social and generalized fuckin anxiety. and also very likely autistic but i haven’t been officially diagnosed until this day. so yeah.

thinking back on it now, it was kind of fucked up. but i don’t blame my parents for how they acted. sometimes i feel a little angry and disappointed about how they handled things, but i don’t blame them. because as i watched kids be baptized, i would hear the priest tell the parents that it was their responsibility to raise their kid to be a good god-fearing person. that it was their responsibility to keep their kid from “straying from the light” and avoiding damnation. i know my parents were told the same thing when i was baptized. that it’ll be their fault if i “stray from the light” and end up getting sent to hell. i just see it as guilt-tripping bullshit. it was my choice to not go to church or follow the religion. i hate that this system has told my parents they should feel guilty about this and that it’s their fault that my soul won’t be saved, because they didn’t “guide me in the lord’s way” good enough. i hate that this system has made me feel like i’ve failed my parents. it’s bullshit.

i’m sure there are churches out there who contain genuinely good, accepting folk. and i’m sure there are people who find comfort in having a religion. i’m glad for them. i’ve just personally have some negative experiences with religion and I’ve learned that it’s just not for me.

i try my best to be a good and kind person. i try really, really hard. i just don’t go to church anymore. the fact that i don’t do this one thing shouldn’t devalue all my efforts.

[serenefreakgeekao3]

Chocolate and Pining

Jim Halpert x GN!Reader

PART ONE

[TABLE OF CONTENTS]

Check Table of Contents for entire fic summary and Key!

Summary: The cameras arrive and begin their rotation through the office. What will their shiny lens and intrusive questions uncover?

Warnings: canon-compliant cheating (if you count Pam flirting while engaged)

Author's Note: First post of the new rewrite, and Im kinda glad I only post two chapters of this previously because I went through and changed the entire thing from third person pov to first, to match along with the rest of the xReaders i’ve been writing.

[ ֎” ]

"Alright," You begin, your legs crossed while you tap one hand on your thigh. "What do I even say?" You huff a little laugh, shaking your head. You sat on an uncomfortable grey plastic chair, blinds slightly drawn behind you to block the view of the rest of the office working. You turn around and glance back, looking through the small opening available and noting three different cameras roaming the office and zooming in on people.

"What do we do here?" You repeat the question you're given, turning back toward your own interview camera. "Well, this is Dunder Mifflin, Scranton branch. We're a paper-pushing company." You stop for a moment before the producer behind the camera does a sort of wave as if urging you on. "Uh- well, I'm the receptionist here. I took the job almost a year ago. I transfer calls to the department they need to go to, write notes during our meetings- I'm basically Michael's secretary." You awkwardly laugh, glancing at the wall of the conference room shared with Michael's office as if he could hear through it. You wouldn’t doubt it if someone told you he stood there with his ear pressed to the wall.

"What's the most interesting thing about this job?" You furrow your brows in concern, uncrossing your legs and sitting forward. "Look, I don't know what you guys were expecting when you came here with a whole film crew, but we're a paper company. There's literally nothing interesting about working here."

[ ֎” ]

"What's interesting about working here?" Oscar asks, glancing through the blinds before leaning closer to the camera, waving his hand as he speaks quieter, "Now I'm not one to gossip, but the big thing going around is the office romance right now. And I'm not talking about Kelly and Ryan getting back together for the fifth time." He laughs shortly at his own joke before continuing. "See, Pam is engaged to Roy, he works here in the shipping warehouse downstairs. They've been together for years and they finally have a wedding date set for about a month or so from now.

"However, Jim has the biggest crush on her, everyone can tell. Before Y/N got here, Pam was the receptionist and Jim was always jumping up and going over to her to flirt constantly. Now, some believe the flirting is still going on while their desks are right next to each other, but I think it's gotten tamped down a bit since Pam scheduled a date for the wedding.

"And then there's Y/N. They started here when Pam was finally transferred to sales, and the position opened. They actually became quite close to both Pam and Jim pretty quickly, which makes some sense considering Dwight and Michael basically attacked them their first day here." —

[ ֎” ]

"Attacked Y/N? Please," Dwight scoffed, shaking his head, "I was merely preparing the new employee. If you’re not ready for a surprise stab from a ninja on your first day on the job, then I really don’t think you’re ready for work at all.” Dwight huffs out a breath, crossing his arms. “Besides, Jim made me use the dull blade.” He looks away from the camera in a strop, shrugging his shoulders. “If he hadn’t taken my sharp one I wouldn’t have had to pull out the dull one. I had to put extra force behind the attack for it to do anything, so really it’s Jim’s fault for the bruises.

“Michael? He couldn’t hurt a fly.” Dwight scoffs, then scoffs again for emphasis. “The fact that he tripped and fell that day means nothing, he was merely catching himself from falling with the closest available thing to grab. Which happened to be Y/N’s body, which he then happened to pull down with him. An honest mistake, that.”

[ ֎” ]

— "Now," Oscar continued where he left off with a smirk, "You'd think Jim flirting with Pam, and her egging it on while engaged, should be drama enough for you. But, then you have to figure into the equation that Y/N also likes Jim. I have a pretty good view of the receptionist area when Y/N sits in a certain spot, and I can hear whenever they talk to each other... Sometimes.

"Now I don't know if Jim realized he's a little flirty," Oscar wiggles his fingers with this, "But certainly not as much with them as with Pam. But- man, it's almost painful how hopeful Y/N's voice gets when they talk with Jim. Almost, but mostly just entertaining. And of course, none of the three know about this. It's basically the office soap opera at this point, and no one wants to say anything to disrupt the saga."

Oscar leans back, chuckling to himself before glancing at the camera, "Oh, almost everyone. Don't tell Dwight or Michael either, they're sure to give it away." He pats his leg for a second before smirking, "I'm team Pam. Now don’t look at me that way! I would love for Y/N and Jim to get together, but he’s just too obsessed with Pam! And that woman really needs to get herself a new man, that Roy is a real piece. of. work."

[ ֎” ]

"Team Pam or Y/N?" Phyllis asks, her smile soft as she raises a hand to cover a giggle, "Now I don't like drama, but absolutely team Y/N. Pam is engaged, it's inappropriate."

[ ֎” ]

"Team Pam, all the way." Meredith nods, smirking to the camera. "She was here first. Gotta be loyal to the branch."

[ ֎” ]

"Oh! Team Y/N!" Kelly squeals, wiggling her body in excitement.

[ ֎” ]

Jim sits in the seat, smoothing his pant legs down and sighing. "So, uh, what exactly do I say?" He places his chin in his hand, his fingers tapping restlessly against his bottom lip.

"Anything interesting?" Jim repeats, glancing out the window in the general direction of Pam and Y/N before looking back. "I mean, there's nothing really interesting about this job. Toner prices, how much each piece of paper weighs or costs-" Jim sighs, shaking his head and dropping his hand, "Honestly, the only reason I'm still here at this point is probably my friends. Pam, my desk-mate over there, we've been here for a while together. And then there's Y/N, the relatively new hire. Or, are they new?" Jim tilts his head to think about it, squinting his eyes toward the ceiling. "Has it almost been a year already?"

Jim shrugs, smirking before tapping his leg, "Oh, and also pranking Dwight. Gotta make your own fun here."

"What the- Jim!" Dwight suddenly yells, drawing half the office's attention. The other half continued blandly on with their work, used to their antics it would seem. Jim glances wearily over toward Dwight as he lugs something up from his bottom drawer, placing a plate with yellow jello and a stapler floating inside onto his desk. "What did you do?"

Jim struggles to hold back a laugh, his hand curled in front of his face and chin resting on his palm. Instead, he shrugs, leans back and crosses his arms while trying to maintain a poker face. "Nothing, Dwight. By the way, what happened to your stapler there?"

"You should know, you did it!" He sits there for a moment, glaring at Jim before bounding up, running and calling out, "Michael!"

You were half standing behind your reception desk to get a good look, sniggering to yourself about this prank- it was a good one. You look over to Jim and see him give Pam a high-five, mumbling something to each other before Jim looks in your direction and shoots you a full smile instead of the smirk he had been wearing. You smile back, sitting back down in your chair and scooting up closer to your computer.

The camera swings around closer to Jim, listening more in on their conversation. "How did you even do it?" Pam asks and snickers quietly before straightening up suddenly, grabbing her phone to press to her ear in an attempt to look as if she was doing her work as their boss exits his office.

"Let me see, let me see-" Michael finally lays eyes on the prank, laughing loudly. "Wow, just- wow!" He laughs some more, patting Jim on the back. "This is a creative one, good job Jimbo!" Dwight scoffs, moving to be in Michael's line of sight. Michael jumps slightly as if remembering he's the boss before clearing his throat and looking at Jim. "Oh, but don't do it again."

"Do what again?" Jim asks, playing dumb still and raising his eyebrows at Michael. Michael barks a laugh in return and pats his back again before wandering back into his office, mumbling about jello under his breath. Jim turns toward Dwight with a victorious grin while you stand, carrying your lunch box toward the kitchen. You tap Jim's shoulder twice in passing as if to say good job, and Jim barely has enough time to lift a hand to yours as you gently pull away to continue to your destination.

"Get it out," Dwight demands, standing near Jim and glaring at him.

"Get what out?"

"My stapler!"

"Well, it is your stapler, Dwight." Jim turns back toward his computer, chuckling under his breath.

"Oh, and how am I supposed to get it out?"

"I don't know, eat the jello?" Jim suggests, causing Dwight to scoff loudly as he plops in his chair.

"I can't just eat the jello, Jim. I wrote my name in whiteout on the stapler so everyone would know it's mine." Dwight pauses for a moment before narrowing his eyes. "Unless you knew that, and you'd assume I'd eat this. You're trying to poison me!" Jim sighs loudly, widening his eyes toward the camera before shaking his head.

"Ok, and with that, I'm going to take my lunch." He stands, turning to make his way toward the kitchen.

"If you need something to eat, I have a whole plate of jello right here for you Jim!"

Jim enters the kitchen, watching you press a few buttons on the microwave to heat your lunch. He dons a small private smile before sneaking closer behind you, reaching out and grabbing your sides while calling out a quick, "Boo!"

You jump heavily and yelp, turning around quickly with a hand pressed to your chest, panting out your breaths. "Fuckin- Halpert!" You yell out, smacking his arm before slumping against the counter behind you. Taking a few more breaths as Jim bends over laughing, you call out, "Unfair!"

"Oh? Unfair?" Jim replies, grinning toward you, "This is just payback for that email!"

"Hey, I sent that yesterday!"

"And I just opened it today." Jim grinned, not at all sorry, as you remember the jumpscare chain email you had forwarded to him, hoping to see his reaction.

"Well, that's unfortunate. I wanted to see you jump, I must've missed it." You pouted slightly and Jim's face did a small change, becoming softer and crinkling slightly at the eyes. You don’t seem to notice as you turn toward your food once the microwave beeps.

"Yeah, you were being harried by Michael, something about new shoes?" At which you groan loudly, holding up a finger with an eye roll.

"Don't even get me started on that." You thought back to that same morning when Michael came in with muddy shoes, whining about how he had just bought them even though you could’ve sworn you had seen Michael wearing them for the last half a year. How exactly did time pass in Michael's world, you wondered? And how had they gotten muddied? It wasn’t even raining outside!

"If you need to talk about it, I'm here," Jim said, sounding oddly sincere, but then continued quickly, "Although if the opposite is true I'm also very willing to go into detail about the newest book I just finished of my series."

"Oh? You mean your nerdy novels about swords and dragons?" You reply, raising your eyebrows and smirking at Jim as you stirred your lunch. “Aren’t you supposed to be a jock or something?”

"Don't pretend like you don't love the series, you listen to me ramble about it every week," Jim replied, never losing his smile and never looking away from you. His focus felt like fire on you, and there was nothing you could do to put it out. You weren’t even sure you wanted to. “And it is possible for someone to like sports and reading at the same time.”

"Hmm." You hum, pretending to think about it. It really wasn't a hard choice- while the stories sounded interesting enough by themselves, it was Jim telling them to you that made the whole week worth it. Listening to Jim become so passionate about something he found interesting was almost infectious, you practically waited for these days just to gain inspiration for your own writing. And if you happen to write fanfiction about the stories you've never actually read- well, Jim didn't need to know about that. "Alright, fine, if you insist. So what's new with Salamander and Patterson?"

"It's Sally and Parker," Jim began in disbelief, rolling his eyes fondly as you pick up your lunch, the both of you moving to the break room. You had known that, of course, but watching Jim try to explain for the seventh time why Sally is absolutely not a salamander and is, in fact, more like a snake than anything else just brings a smile to your face and a warm feeling to fill your chest.

You sat down at a chair, thankful for the empty break room as Jim wandered over to the vending machines. He put in some money and roughly pushed a few buttons, complaining all the while about his book characters. He ends up chuckling and shaking his head as he states that he needed to 'start from the beginning.'

A packet of double chocolate chip cookies lands in front of you, and you grin brightly while reaching for the gift. "My favourite, how did you know?" You look up to see Jim looking quickly away, not noticing the red starting to stain his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

"You eat it every week," Jim replies quietly as if that explains it, fetching his own lunch. "Anyway so then Parker-"

It was later in the day, and you sat bored at your desk, a word document pulled up on your computer that was half written with a personal story. Though you weren't actively typing it, instead spinning a pen in your hand as you stare in the direction of the sales associates.

"I honestly don't know what I'm looking for here," Jim speaks lowly, chuckling as he held Pam's hand in both of his, her palm facing upward. He looks up into her eyes as she giggles, shaking her head.

"No, look closer, here," Pam takes one of his hands, taking a finger and tracing a line on her palm as if this would help him read it, "This is the life line. Or- wait, maybe it's the heart line?" Pam giggles again, though misses Jim's almost yearning gaze as he holds her hand a little tighter.

"I don't know what either of those mean, Beesly," Jim replied, his voice low, and Pam finally looked up. Their eyes met and you finally had to look away, the pain in your chest becoming almost too much to bear.

And, almost as if on cue, Roy pushes in the door to the office, walking forward with his hand holding a leather jacket over his shoulder. You glance up quickly, about to start your usual introduction before realizing who it is and clearing your throat loudly, throwing a worried glance toward Jim. He glances over in time, thankfully, yanking his hands back as if burned when spotting Roy turning the corner. It seemed as though Roy hadn't noticed, smiling at his fiance as he approached before leaning down and kissing her forehead.

You watched the pained expression cross Jim's face for just a moment before he managed to school his features into a poker face. You felt for him, honestly. You knew how it felt when the person you liked, well, liked someone else. You just wanted him to be happy above all else, and you knew pining after Pam was not it. If only Pam wouldn't egg it on constantly, maybe he'd have a chance to get over her.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, let me just pack my things and print out one more file, I'll meet you down there," Pam replied to her fiance, smiling blindingly bright at him before they kiss once more. Roy turned around, passing the reception desk before grabbing a few pieces of candy that you kept out on the top of the desk. He popped one in his mouth before choking dramatically, turning around and coughing a few times before looking directly at you.

"M&Ms? Really? I liked it better when it was Skittles."

"I've never put out Skittles, I like chocolate."

"It doesn't matter what you like, it's for the guests, isn't it? Pam used to put out Skittles and no one complained." He tossed the remaining few pieces onto the floor beside him before walking out of the office. Pam ran up quickly, a worried look on her face.

"I'm so sorry, he must've had a bad day-"

"It's fine, Pam, really." You paste on a smile, annoyed not just at Roy but at Pam for earlier. Pam nodded slowly, her smile regretful as if knowing how you felt before turning around and pressing the last few clicks on her computer to shut it down. She gathered her things in silence, sliding her newly printed paper into a file on her desk. Meanwhile, you stared at your computer screen, not really reading what was there.

"Bye Jim. Bye Y/N, see you tomorrow!" Pam called out, and you replied with a little wave before pressing save on your word document, downloading it to your flash drive. The door to the office hadn't even closed before a new presence was at your desk, leaning over to try and spy on their computer. You looked up to see Jim smirking, looking directly into your eyes.

"Did you close that document just 'cause I came over? Hiding something from me, Y/L/N?" His teasing tone had you smiling against your better judgement, leaning back and crossing your arms.

"Well, I wouldn't want you discovering my master plan. It's a secret for a reason, you know." Jim laughed at your joke, leaning back and taking a handful of M&Ms to pop into his mouth. Watching this, you felt their face deflate just slightly before you hear Jim’s whispers.

"You know, I think I prefer the M&Ms over Skittles any day." He winks, then dumps more from his handful into his mouth, walking back to his desk to finish up his day. You once again couldn't help the small smile that adorned your face in response.

[ ֎” ]

"I've always had a thing for chocolate," You said, shrugging, "I'm the one who sits there all day anyway." You bite your lip for a moment, trying to suppress a smile. "Besides, who cares what Roy thinks? Other people in the office like them, that's all that matters."

[ ֎” ]

"What kind of person do I like?" Jim makes a baffled face, blinking a few times before resituating in his seat. "I don't know why that's relevant, but if I had to choose..." He trails off, his eyes taking on a far-off look, "Someone sweet, smart- someone who laughs at my jokes while also making me laugh. Someone who will help me with my pranks and listen to my ramblings." He looks back up to the camera with a small smile, "Someone with a sweet tooth that I could spoil."

"You coming, Y/L/N?" Jim calls out, the office dark. You're the last two in the building now, it seems, and you glance up from your desk where you're standing to smile at him.

"Oh, I just have a few more papers to print, you go on ahead."

"Don't work too hard, Y/L/N. The effort isn't worth it." You laugh in response, waving him off. You both exchange a quiet goodbye before you wander over to the copier, which was printing multiple copies of what looked like Dwight's face on the 'Scranton Strangler' wanted poster. The camera swings between the pages and back to you, where you only shrug and smirk.

"It'll be funny," Is your only excuse as you take the pages and start hanging them on the pillars of the building around the office, sliding an extra copy into Jim's desk as a memento.