#you may be saying to yourself surely this grown man has something better to do on a friday night than make a wekky meme

[pacific-coast-hockey]

sharks reaction image 4 you

[pix-writes]

Do you think Stan and Ford care for appearances? And do you think they have a certain type or is something they don't think much? Love your writing btw 🥹

A/N: thank you! I'm glad you like it 😊

Well, thinking about the pines twins they have certainly had rough lives and been thrust into environments/situations where taking care of themselves and their appearances aren't top priority, so I think especially at their current age, they're not likely to be judgemental on appearances when it comes to a prospective partner (plus ford and stan canonically have tattoos/scars they're embarrassed or insecure about!)

Stanford I think especially so, in the sense that appearance to him is less of an issue to him than the contents of your brain, any quirks of yours filed away as fascinating eccentricities of a person of remark. He knows full well what it's like for people to judge you based on the surface, since many will freak out over his six fingers and whilst curious about you, will also be sensitive to insecurities you may have 🥹

I think Ford would want someone who is at least a little orderly like he is, his environment can be quite scattered with papers and experiments, sure, but he has had to take care of himself and his appearance jumping dimensions, so he believes you can do it if he does :) (says the man who lights his face on fire instead of shaving cause it's 'faster' 😅 and eats nutrition pills instead of lunch - you can teach him a thing or two as well!)

Stanley on the other hand does often jokes around about lots of things to do with general appearances, including ribbing dipper and mabel, though he's very quick to notice when someone is feeling upset/insecure or potentially angry to not take it as a joke or might find it cutting (it's just that most of the people he does this to are people he wants to anger on purpose lol 😂 thinking of the dunk tank). But you're not a person to scam, so I feel he'd be sensitive to that, underneath the exterior he's fairly sensitive himself and as we've seen with dipper, he wants him to be tough, not just physically but to have a thick skin when it comes to being judged by others, you can't stop doing things in life just cause others wanna bring you down! That's why he does tease sometimes and it can seem mean from the outside, but he simply wants you to be stronger than you already are.

Stanley has some pretty 'trashy' tastes we could say, but takes care of his appearance as mr mystery, so I think he'd enjoy being with someone who also likes to dress up a bit to go out, but if you stay at home all day and don't put on a pair of pants, it'd be incredibly hypocritical for him to judge. And you can be gross together which is way better than being gross alone (questionable).

I hc that they'd both be interested in someone curvy/plus sized cause I like that idea in particular 1) bc I'm fat 2) bc in the eras they grew up in 'skinny' was all the rage, so I like to think of them of going against the grain and liking a more classic figure/not caring about toxic beauty standards. But I also think that they truly have no particular preference! Both of the twins like vintage styles, having grown up in the 50/60s and young adults in the 70/80s.

But yes, in summary TL;DR, the pines twins don't give many fucks to appearances, as long as you're taking care of yourself to the best of your ability, it's actions and personality that attract them more 💕

[hayakawalove]

Second Chance

Summary: After a battle with you, Suguru finds himself back at Jujutsu High with a major head injury. He doesn't remember any of the events that occurred over the past couple of years, including his defection. Will you be able to give him a second chance, or is it already too late?

A/N: Big shout out to @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for discussing this with me. They are wonderful and their work is phenomenal, please check them out. I hope you all enjoy! The idea just seemed so interesting to me. How would reader act if they saw Suguru again, and he didn't remember anything? I'm sorry for the ending. I hope you'll forgive me! Comments are appreciated!

CW: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Amnesia, Flashbacks, Death, Friends to Lovers

W/C: 4,791

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

Silky hair and chapped lips. 

You’ve seen this man before, but never like this. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here, hours you think. Shoko has come in with food twice, but you’ve turned her down both times. It’s hard to have an appetite like this. There’s an endless pit in your stomach, the anxiety clawing at your insides like a demon. 

He’s changed. His hair is a bit longer, muscles a bit bigger. You can’t see his eyes, but you think they’re probably more cynical than they were several years ago. You deduce by the lines on his face that he still smiles the same. That angers you. 

You feel like the clock in the room is too loud. When you look around, you notice there isn't a clock. It’s just your heartbeat in your ears. It hurts how loud it is. 

You were a bit surprised Suguru showed his face. He avoided everyone, and everyone avoided him. For a while you thought maybe that would make it hurt less. You’ve grown to learn there’s nothing you can do to make it hurt less. 

Suguru was hurt. More hurt than you’ve seen him in a while. It was weird seeing him injured, it was even more weird knowing you were the one who caused it. Suguru was stronger than you. He always has been. Because of this fact, you can’t help but think that maybe he let you win. 

It was a laughable assumption. You knew there wasn’t a world in which he would give up that easily to you. But you couldn’t shake the idea no matter how much you tried. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

When Suguru fell to his knees you had a split second to make a decision. You could finish it all. Kill him. It was exactly what he deserved. There was a small voice in the back of your brain though, telling you you couldn’t kill him. You didn’t know if that was true. You suppose it was, because you dragged his body back to the school despite everything in your body telling you not to. 

It took a lot of convincing to find a room fit enough to hold Suguru. The higher ups were afraid he may do something drastic, but you knew better. After everything he’s done, he’s never gone after other sorcerers. “Just for now.” They told you. He can stay here until they figure out what to do with him.

A finger twitch. 

Any exhaustion that you may have felt was eradicated instantly. You stare at his fingers, praying to yourself it was fake, praying to yourself it was real. 

Lashes flutter and you’re met with caramel eyes. 

Words get caught in your throat, so all you do is stare. He was awake. He was awake and looking at you. Suguru. Memories flash through your brain of the childhood you once shared, happiness and youth flowing through your veins. You may have seen him earlier during your fight, but you didn’t see him, not really anyway. Not like this. Not up close where you could see your own reflection in his eyes.

He stares back, widening his eyes to wake himself up even more. 

Who was going to speak first? 

What would you say? 

Would he-

“Jellybean.”

There’s no ticking anymore. You think your heart has stopped, the sound no longer driving your thoughts. 

That was the nickname he had for you before he left. You aren’t even sure how he came up with it, you don't even remember when he came up with it. The only thing you could remember was how it sounded when it flowed through his lips. Just like that. It sounded just like that. 

Your mouth is glued shut as you look at him. Something is different. Something is wrong. The air around him feels different compared to hours ago. It’s not as heavy. His eyes flick around, taking in all the details of the room. 

“Geto.” You murmur. 

You use his family name out of spite, deciding that he doesn’t deserve to hear you speak his given name. 

Suguru’s brows furrow for a moment, as if surprised to hear you call him that. His gaze trails down to the handcuffs binding him. You know he wants to ask why, but he doesn’t. 

“What happened?” 

He couldn’t remember? It was hard to believe. Memories from your fight were replaying in your mind for hours. 

“You’re joking, right?” You ask. 

“Why would I be joking?”

Fine. You may as well go along with it.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” 

Suguru attempts to sit up but he doesn’t get very far. Pain is etched in his face as he moves. 

“I remember watching the stars.” 

It was something the two of you did together. 

You hadn’t done it in years. 

The last time you star gazed together was a couple of weeks before he left. 

“What do you mean?” You press. 

“I’m guessing more time has passed, you don’t look the same.” He has a thoughtful expression on his face as he takes in your features. 

He’s right. You don’t look the same. You don’t feel the same, either. Where he had smile lines, you now had worry lines. Your lips were set in a permanent frown. 

“You would be correct.” 

“How much time has passed?” 

You don’t really know how to respond to him. You can’t tell him it’s been years. You’re sure that would hurt him. You don’t know why you care about his feelings, when he showed you he didn’t care about yours. 

“A while.” You try to reign in the edge of your voice, but it’s hard.

Emotions you hadn’t thought about in years were beginning to stir inside you. 

“Why am I bound?”

“Safety precaution.”

He thinks on your response before resting his head back. If he doesn’t remember the past several years, that means he doesn’t remember what he did. 

Was that even possible? Forgetting years of memories sounded far fetched. You wanted to believe he was lying, perhaps playing some cruel joke on you. But as you look at him, your heart tugs. He looks like the old Suguru. He feels like the old Suguru. 

“What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? He didn’t get to ask that. Not when he’s the one who put you in this mess. Not when you were unsure of what was even right. 

“You don’t get to ask that.” You bite back. 

He has the audacity to look hurt by the tone of your voice. 

The room grows quiet at your reply. He was done asking questions. Good, you think. You weren’t sure how much more of it you could take.

You call Shoko to assess him. When she arrives, she doesn’t tell you much more than you already know. He’s lost his memory, probably due to a head injury sustained in the fight. How he lost so many years, she couldn’t tell you. Shoko is stiff as she examines Suguru, even more quiet than she usually is. It’s hard to watch. It doesn’t go past Suguru, but then again nothing ever goes past him.

She waits for you outside the room, tired eyes following your figure as you close the door behind you. 

“Should I tell the higher ups?” She asks. 

“Probably. It’s not a secret that he’s here anyway.”

“And Gojo?” 

The mention of his name cuts you like a blade. You hadn’t even thought of him. Did that make you selfish? 

If anyone in the world should know about Suguru, it’s his other half. Gojo knows he’s here, but he doesn’t know the full extent of it. He doesn’t know that Suguru forgot everything. 

“Yeah- you should,” you downcast your gaze. “You should tell him.” 

What would his reaction be? You weren’t really sure. The man had become so detached from the events that had happened all those years ago. He never spoke about Suguru anymore, and would shut down the conversation anytime you tried to talk about it. 

“Alright, but” Shoko says your name and steps closer. “Keep an eye on him.” 

The way she says it sounds like a warning. Not like advice from one caring friend to another. 

“Why? You don’t believe him?” 

“I don’t know. It’s certainly possible. There’s also a chance his memory could come back. Who knows what would happen if that was the case. Just be careful.” 

You have to fight to swallow the rocks in your throat. She was right. Anything could happen. You should be scared. You know that. But there’s a deep part of you that had wanted this to occur. You wanted to have him back, no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

He betrayed you. He hurt you. He was the villain in your story. 

Even still. Even still. 

He was your friend. Your best friend. 

You wave Shoko off before leaning against the door. You release a long sigh, trying to collect yourself before going back into the room. You were going to have to get through this one way or another. You just hoped it would be as painless as possible. 

~~~

“What’s wrong?” He asks once more. 

It’s been a week, and he’s been acting the same way the whole time. In the beginning, you almost thought it would be a ruse. Now, you were certain it wasn’t. 

No one could keep up this ignorant act for that long. Not even Suguru. 

“Nothing.” Your reply is curt. 

You were less angry now. Still hurt, but you were confused more than anything. There were two parts of you, playing tug of war with your heart. Your past and present, fighting for a chance to control you. Your past self wanted to pretend everything was okay, but your present self was screaming at the top of their lungs trying to warn you not to get too close.

Suguru’s lip twitches. It always used to do that. You hate that you remember all of his quirks still like the back of your hand. You tried to forget them, but it was a fruitless endeavor. 

They were a part of you, tattooed on your soul.

“Come on. You know you can’t lie to me.” 

He was right. As much as you were acquainted with his quirks, he was acquainted with yours. If you were being completely honest with yourself, he probably knew you better than you knew him. You never wanted to believe that, but you learned that it was the truth the hard way. 

“No, but I can try real hard.” 

You didn’t know what to tell him even if you wanted to. Where would you even begin? Suguru had turned into the very thing he had been fighting against for years. If you spoke the words into existence, they would become real. Suguru was a monster.

How could you possibly tell him that?

Suguru cracks a grin and you feel like you’re free falling. It was the same smile you grew up with. 

He always graced you with that grin when offering you a cold soda. When you begged him to hold your phone so you could run through the sprinklers. When you stayed up way past your bedtime just so you could talk a little bit longer. 

You hate it. You hate it. You hate it. 

You hate that he’s having this effect on you. Making you melt in his hands as if he hadn’t ripped your heart out. As if the last couple of years didn’t happen at all.

As you repeat the words to yourself you realize it’s a farce. It didn’t matter how much you told yourself you hated him and never wanted to see him again, it simply wasn’t true.

“I suppose so.” He sighs, resting against his hands.

You’re glad he’s dropped the matter. You were unsure how much longer of this you could take. Being in the room with him was suffocating, made even worse when he tried to prod at you. 

You quickly realized leaving his side was just as, if not more awful than being with him. You were constantly wondering how he was, if his memories had come back. It was terrible. 

~~~

Suguru was nearly all healed up. His memories still hadn’t come back, which put the Jujutsu society in shambles. The higher ups wanted to execute him. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t remember what he’d done. But there were others who wanted him to become a sorcerer once more. 

If he didn’t have any past memories, they could mold him into a hero again. 

You think part of that pressure was a factor in why he left. A man gifted with powers that were out of this world. Neither him or Gojo had much of a say in how they operated before, being used like puppets in a game. Their entire high school career was like that, at least until Suguru forced open a new path.

You hated that the sorcerers thought that, that they wanted to use him like that. But you understood it. 

Suguru was an asset, you would have to be blind not to acknowledge that. 

Then there was Gojo. He didn’t have much of an opinion. Maybe he did, but he never said anything. Never spoke his mind one way or the other. On the outside it almost seemed he was impartial to the decision, but you knew that couldn’t be true. 

It must hurt for him just like it hurts for you. 

Although he has the added responsibility of being the executioner, the ax that will swing down if Suguru is decided to be irredeemable. 

You stride by Suguru, the two of you deciding to go on a walk this morning. His steps are small, walking slowly in order to remain at your pace. When you were in school he did the same thing. Never too fast, never too slow. 

The two of you weren’t even supposed to be out of the room he was placed in. Who knows what would happen if the higher ups found out you had been taking him on excursions? 

But you just couldn’t not bring him outside. The room he was being kept in was so small and suffocating. Everytime you mentioned doing something outside of it, you would catch a glint in his eye. He was envious. Of course he never said anything. That wasn’t in his nature. He would smile and nod, listen to your stories while pushing down his own desires to explore. 

You felt for him. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like to be confined to a bed, awaiting your sentencing for a crime you didn’t even remember committing. So what if you snuck him out? It was only for a day. Nobody had to know.

The school grounds were relatively quiet, giving you the perfect opportunity to walk around. For how mad you initially were, you sure were crumbling fast. It was hard to maintain your disposition. Suguru was back, and that’s what you had wanted for years. 

“You hurt a lot of people.” You say, figuring you should finally clue him in.

The words taste bitter on your tongue. It feels like the understatement of the century. 

“How many?” He responds. 

You don’t say anything. You don’t say anything because you aren’t sure what to say. You had no idea how many people Suguru killed. And even if you did, you aren’t sure you would be able to tell him. 

Suguru picks up on your expression. 

“That many?” He murmurs.

You look away as if you’ve been caught in a lie. The clock (your heart) is back, and it won’t stop ticking. It’s hard to breathe under the heat of his gaze, under the pressure of reality. 

“That many.” 

You could tell that it was hard to believe for him. It was hard for you to believe, too. You wonder what’s going through his mind. The Suguru you once knew would never dream of hurting anyone.

“They want to kill you.” You go on. May as well lay it all on the table right now.

You assumed he probably already knew. You wanted to say the words anyway, to dispel any assumption that things would go back to normal once he was released. Then again, you weren’t really sure what normal meant anymore. 

“I see.” 

Suguru doesn’t argue back. He never does. Not like Gojo, who could argue until his face was red. Suguru doesn’t try to plead his case because he isn’t able to. What’s done was done. Even if he doesn’t remember it.

An unassuming man on death row. 

You tell yourself it wouldn’t hurt if he was being killed if he maintained his memories. That wasn’t the case, though. The man who was being put on trial for execution was your Suguru. 

The Suguru you grew up with. The Suguru who would fight for you. The Suguru you loved more than anything. The Suguru before he broke your heart. 

(You tell yourself they’re two different people, two different Suguru’s, the before and after. But you know that’s not true. Whether you liked it or not, it was the same man.)

“You didn’t like nonsorcerers.” You say. The wind brushes his hair from his face. “What do you think about them now? How do you feel about helping them?” 

His eyes flicker over the school. You wonder what he’s thinking. Is he remembering your childhood? For you, it had been years, but to him it felt like yesterday. You also were struck with memories of your childhood when you looked at the school, but they turned your stomach sour. 

“It makes me angry. I want to help them, they need it. But it hurts to see our friends die.” It was more than he had ever told you before. “What about you?” 

“I don’t mind.” You didn’t mind helping them in the same sense that you didn’t mind doing laundry. 

The task never ended. It was monotonous.

You had walked a full circle around the school, finally coming to a stop underneath a tree. It was the same tree you and Suguru had relaxed under many times before. It only made sense that your feet would carry you here. 

The two of you don’t share any more words, instead opting for a moment of silence. It was nice. Being under this tree with him. You needed it. As the wind kisses your skin you feel hopeful. Maybe he could be fixed. He just told you he wants to help. Maybe you could convince the higher ups he wasn’t a lost cause. Maybe you could save him. 

A form of repentance for your ignorance all those years ago.

~~~

The only sound coming from your room was the quiet lull of the TV. You had been up for hours, but you still weren’t tired.

Suguru was with you. He was clad in a large shirt with baggy pajama pants.

His presence was calming. Every night he made his way to your room to lay with you. 

It didn’t matter that neither of you slept for hours after he visited. You felt safe, and that was the important part. 

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” You ask, looking up at Suguru. 

You were laying on your bed, Suguru sitting at your side. He’s flicking through your TV, uninterested in everything that was playing at this hour. 

“Yeah, shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll have Satoru with me.” 

Both boys were assigned on a top secret mission tomorrow. The only issue was that “top secret” hardly meant anything to Gojo. He blabbed about it the second he was excused from Yaga’s office. The two had to escort the star plasma vessel. An extremely vital task, an honor that wouldn’t have been bestowed upon just anybody. Of course the two special grades were assigned to do it. 

“And you’ll be there as well. You’re just as strong as him.” 

“For now.” 

You pout your lip out as you look at him. Suguru was always humble, but his humbleness was turning into self doubt these days. Of course it was hard to compare yourself to Gojo. He was almost a prophet. 

It didn’t help that all of the adults compared the two boys. Suguru was trying his hardest, wasn’t that all that mattered? 

“You’re stronger than me, if it’s any consolation.” You reply. 

It’s hard to know how to comfort him. He wasn’t wrong in thinking Gojo would surpass him, but you didn’t want him believing that meant he was less than. 

Suguru looks at you and grins, pinching your cheek. He chuckles softly at the way you cry, pushing his hand away. The TV was set on some childhood cartoon, a show you knew Suguru didn’t watch. Gojo did, though. You imagine it brought comfort to Suguru. He leaves it on in the background as he lays beside you. 

His body heat brings about more warmth than any blanket could conjure up. You use all of your willpower to not snuggle up to him. 

“Do you wanna do anything when I get back?” He questions.

The proposition almost sounds like a date. It could be one, you think. The feelings you share for each other is no secret, it’s as blatant as can be. Neither of you acted on them, though. It was almost like a game, it was fun. 

You thought you had all the time in the world. 

(Oh how wrong you were.)

One of you would make the first move, but for now you tiptoed the line between just being friends and something more.

“What would you want to do?” You close your eyes as you strain your ears to pick up on his voice. 

You don’t see it, but his gaze is set on you. Picking out the details on your face. 

“Anything.” 

You grin, your body beginning to feel weightless. It was always easier to sleep with him around. You begin to think about the adventures you could go on tomorrow, the options were limitless. He was right. You guys really could do anything. It didn’t matter, as long as he was by your side everything would be okay. 

Everything would be okay.

~~~

The higher ups had made their decision. Suguru was not going to live to see another day.

It stings when you hear the news. You don’t remember who told you, all you can remember is the way it made you feel. Like you’re drowning. 

Were you so naive as to think you could change the outcome of anything? 

That you could even save him?

The sun is shining when the day comes to execute Suguru. Birds are chirping, the temperature isn’t too hot and your world is falling apart once more. 

You thought you didn’t care about him anymore. 

Silly you. 

Maybe you would never stop caring for him. He was too intertwined with your soul. 

“You have one hour.” The news is delivered to you. 

Suguru hasn’t spoken a word to you all day. It’s not because he’s angry, no, he’s quite at peace with what's happening. 

He doesn't know everything he did, but he understands that this is what needs to happen. There can be no Suguru Geto, for the betterment of society. 

Regardless of what’s better for you.

It’s sick how depressed you feel. 

Your head is pounding and your stomach has been flipped upside down all morning. You don’t know why it’s such a shock to you. You knew this was coming. Deep down, you knew the odds of him making it out alive were slim. 

Maybe a part of you thought they would change their minds, and that you and Suguru could run into the sunset. 

What a fucking joke. 

“It’ll be okay.” Suguru murmurs in an effort to help you. 

He’s comforting you? He’s the one on death row yet he’s worried about your feelings? 

That was so like Suguru. 

Your Suguru. 

His wording is funny, too. He says “it will be okay” instead of “you will be okay”. He would never tell you how you’re going to feel, but he does know everything else would be okay. 

The world will keep spinning and the sun will keep shining once he’s dead and gone. No matter how much you wish it wouldn't. 

The world didn’t need Suguru, but you did. God, you did. 

You’ve survived this long without him, but at what cost? Your sanity? Your youth? You were a husk of a person since he left, but you at least knew he was out there somewhere. You wouldn't have such comfort anymore. 

“I don’t want it to be okay.” You reply. 

And you really didn’t. You wanted the world to crumble in his absence, just like you had. 

He smoothes his hand over yours, heat spreading throughout you. 

“I have to atone for my sins.” Suguru says your name like a prayer, watching as you shiver beside his bed. 

Suguru was right. You knew he was right. 

“What if you didn’t have to? What if I,” you begin. “What if we leave?” 

You snap your head up to look at him through bleary vision. There’s a small smile on his face as he watches you, like a parent placating a child. 

“And went where?” 

“Anywhere!” 

“No.” His response is curt. 

He reaches a hand up to cup your face. The tears have poured over your lash line now, and they won’t stop. 

It was happening all over again. He was leaving you again. 

“How can you do this to me?” You cry.

Suguru’s hand drops and his lips pull down a little. It must have stung when you said that. You don’t care that it hurts him. You’re hurting, and he could stop the pain if only he fought back. 

He scoots to the side of the bed to create room for you. He doesn't even have to tell you to get in before you’re hopping up, sliding down into his side. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You don’t want his sorry’s. You want him. 

Your hands curl up in the fabric of his shirt, tugging it as you cry beside him. There’s an hour left and you aren’t sure you’ll be able to compose yourself before then. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to compose yourself. 

Suguru’s hand runs through your hair as you release all of the pent up emotions. To mourn someone before they’re even dead is a difficult feat, and you’ve managed to do it twice for him. 

Will it be fast? Will it hurt? 

“You have to go, they’ll be here soon.” 

“I’m not- I’m not going anywhere.” You pull him closer. 

You would have to be dragged away. You were seeing this through to the end. He needed someone before he died. He needed someone now because he never had anyone before. 

Suguru releases a shaky breath and holds you against his frame. You memorize the way he feels beside you, the smell of his skin against yours. You never really forgot, but you wanted to indulge one last time. 

There’s foot fall outside the door and you bury your face in his chest, pleading for the universe to be kinder to you. 

“I love you, you know that right?” His voice cracks. 

“I love you, I love you Suguru, please don't let them take you,” 

You can hear his heart shatter, but it could just be a reflection of your own.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” He’s kissing your cheek, licking the salty remnants from his lips. 

Was he kidding? You wouldn't be able to take care of yourself, not like he could. Not like he did. 

The door creaks open and you slam your eyes shut. Not yet. You weren’t finished. You needed more time. 

Without taking a peek, you already know it’s Gojo who’s standing in the doorway. You don’t catch the somber gaze he shares with Suguru. 

At least it was going to be Gojo who did it. He would make it as painless as possible. 

You force Gojo to work around you. You intended to keep your promise. You weren’t going to leave Suguru, not until you had to. 

“I’ll be waiting.” Suguru murmurs in your ear. 

It’s over quicker than you were expecting. Suguru goes still in your arms, heavy hands loosening from your body.

You stay with him until he’s become stiff. Only leaving once you’re forcefully removed. 

There’s static in your ears as you’re dragged back to your room. It was finally over. The last page to a macabre book. 

You knew it hurt to lose him, you’ve done that before. 

But to really lose him? 

It’s a pain you will never get over.

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[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 4)

Cregan x reader

A/N: new character alert

word count: 1,202 words

Series Masterlist

“Ser Steffon won’t accompany me to Winterfell?” You ask your mother. It feels like another strike in the gut. Steffon Darklyn has guarded you since you were a child. Apart from your family, he is your closest friend.

“He is a part of my Queensguard. He must be with me or…” You know why she trails off. Her or her heir are the words she is looking for.

“Jacaerys.” You finish the thought for her and you hate the undertone of jealousy in your voice.

“You may take as many of your handmaidens as you like and we will find more than suitable guards for you. I would never allow you to be not well accompanied.” She is trying to be reassuring but it is to no avail.

“Then I shall have nobody to care for me in the North?” You regret the words as soon as you say them because you know what her response will be.

“Your husband will care for you.” It doesn’t make you feel better. You don’t want the demeaning care from a forced spouse. You desire care from the man who has been like a second father to you.

“I want Ser Steffon.” You say, your tone almost desperate.

“It wouldn’t be proper.”

Improper or a waste of resources? You wonder to yourself.

“You will be protected.” She reassures.

“It isn’t about that.” It’s about everything that is being torn away from you.

“Help me to understand, sweet girl.” She sounds just as desperate.

“Why did you have to send me so far away, far enough to isolate me?” You ask softly.

“I promise I thought your match through. Cregan gives you control. Putting you in the North gives you a role, not to be a tool to create an alliance, but to be a Targaryen presence so far from the throne. You will be in a position of great influence if you can gain your husband’s trust.” She seems serious but you aren’t sure if she is just trying to make you feel important when you aren’t. Though, it works. “If you wanted to stay close, we would have likely had to betroth you to Aemond.” You cringe at that. You were close to Aemond when the two of you were younger but there is such strife between you now. You’re sure he hates you. “He wouldn’t allow you the same level of freedom.”

“I know that.” You sigh. “I require a moment to collect myself, your Grace.” You give her a nod of respect before leaving, Ser Steffon trails after you. He knows what the topic of discussion was.

You let the tension stew in silence between the two of you before you decide to speak up. “What am I supposed to do without you?”

“You are a woman grown, princess. I know you will excel in Winterfell.” He says and you turn to face him.

“But i’ll miss you.”

“I am flattered deeply and truthfully, I will miss you also.” He says tenderly.

“Well then perhaps if you told the Queen you wished to accompany me…” You trail off, knowing your suggestion is silly.

“Princess…” He says in a certain way and you can sense the pity. “There is something that may make you feel better, though.”

“And that would be?”

“My nephew, Robert, has just recently been knighted. He is by no means a seasoned knight but I had a great influence in raising him when he was younger. He is a good man and a fearsome warrior. Mayhaps having him as a guard could bring you some sense of comfort?” Steffon suggests.

“That is a splendid idea. I should like to meet him. Now.” You reply, feeling almost happy at the prospect.

“Now? Of course, princess. I believe he is training in the courtyard.” He tells you and you immediately begin to make your way there.

When you arrive at the courtyard, you notice that there’s more than a few men training, Aemond and Criston included, who you ignore.

“Point him out.”

Steffon describes Robert and where he is but when your eyes fall upon him, the description doesn’t do justice. Robert is handsome, lean and strong with hair as black as tar and piercing green eyes. He fights with ease and elegance, not relying on brutish strength. You decide that he will be more than fun to have around. When Robert wins his fight, you clap for him. He notices the sound because he didn’t expect eyes to be on him when the dragon prince is fighting.

“Princess.” He bows as you walk over, his competitor stumbling into a bow as well.

“Your highness, I introduce you to my nephew, Ser Robert Darklyn.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ser Robert.” You say with a little smirk.

“The pleasure is, of course, all mine.” He is clearly trying to stay confident but you can detect a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“You are a very skilled fighter.” You haven’t seen much but you’ve already decided what you want. You trust Steffon’s judgement. “And I am in need of a new guard.”

“Thank you, princess. I appreciate the recognition.” He manages to stay cool and calm. He has an easy way about his demeanour.

“Have you ever been to Winterfell?” You ask him.

“I haven’t been anywhere.” He replies, a man in need of something to free him from the monotony of being a second son.

“Perhaps you would like to come with me to Winterfell then, as my personal guard?” You ask him bluntly.

“I am honoured by your offer, your highness. I would like nothing more than to protect you in your new home.” He can’t seem to stop himself from smiling. For a man who seemed to be so stoic, the smile suits him.

“Good because we leave in three days. I apologize for the short notice but I wasn’t given much time to prepare for this change of plans.” You give Ser Steffon a pointed look.

Robert Darklyn has little time to respond before you turn on your heel, wanting to make sure you have everything you need for your travels. As you walk back to your chambers, you strike up conversation with Steffon again.

“I expect you to write to me. Perhaps once a week. Just to be filled in on how my brothers fair of course.” You say to him but you both know that all you want is to hear from him as much as possible.

“I think twice a week would be more appropriate. Your brothers do get up to lots of mischief and whatnot.” He says with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“I think that would be for the best as well.” You speak, a small smile on your face as you arrive at your chamber’s door. He holds it open for you. “Oh and one more thing, Ser… If I die in Robert’s care, I’ll kill you.” He smirks at that.

“He’s a much better knight than I was at his age. I promise the two of you will get along well.”

“Hmm.” You say, thinking about Ser Robert… very handsome Ser Robert. “I think we indeed will.”

Taglist(comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy

Lord husband: @feyres-fireheart @possiblyafangirl @hb8301 @marihoneywk @youn-jo @velvet-spider @janelongxox @ninastyless @nyctophilic0vitnir r @m-a-s-h-k-a @delicious-xx @weepingfashionwritingplaid @happinessinthebeing @betelrus @joliettes @black-swan-blog27 @mxtokko @valeridarkness @karolalolla @satan-s-ass @synindoodles

[irisintheafterglow]

HAND ONE - HIGH CARD

summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas. in this hand, a duel is fought.

wc: 1.7k

cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader, first meeting, touya's sass need its own warning

note: SURPRISE !! bet iris starting another series wasn't on your 2024 bingo (it wasn't on mine) but here we are! this whole series is based on this little idea from a few months back and will include swordfighting! fake dating! mutual pining! angst! balls! (the royal kind, not,,, yk) oh and many poker metaphors lol. hope you enjoy this first little exposition chapter :))

likes, reblogs, and replies are greatly appreciated <3

You would admire the spectacle of it all, had it not been for the aching pain in your feet. 

The hand-me-down heels from your estranged stepmother made it hard to focus on anything but your breathing as you tried to steady yourself against a nearby column in the palace garden. You could practically hear her shrill screaming in your ears for not doing enough to network among the other young nobles, for failing to present yourself as fit for bearing children you didn’t want. As the people you’d grown up with since birth milled about carefully-tended roses and large-bloomed peonies, you couldn’t imagine how they weren’t sweating all their caked-on makeup off in the stifling June heat. Fishing the lacy hand fan from your clutch, you relocate to a shadier side of the column under the stone walkway lining the garden. An aggressive snap echoes off nearby walls when you flick it open and sigh when the air hits your face. 

“You stole my spot,” comes a smooth male voice from the other side of the column. You don’t think the person is talking to you, but then you hear an amused snicker and a small thank you to who you assume is a passing servant. It’s awkwardly silent except for faraway conversations and the breeze blown from your fan until the man clears his throat. “I’m holding out a water to you, if you would kindly look over your shoulder.” Slightly irritated by the condescending tone in his voice, you look and, sure enough, there was a cold glass of water in the stranger’s white-gloved hand. You couldn’t see his face, nor the rest of his body, but something in your gut told you that it was safe. And, if it did happen to be poisoned, at least it got you out of another season. Carefully taking the glass from his long fingers, most of the tension in your body leaves after the first few sips slide down your throat. “Refreshing?”

“Very,” you answer cordially, in that airy tone your stepmother taught you. She said it was a fine way to attract suitors, which made you want to drop your voice several octaves whenever a potential husband drew near. “Thank you. That was very kind of you, Mister…?”

“My identity is irrelevant,” he says quickly and you turn your head in his direction, as if to hear him better. “Nor will I ask of yours, so consider this conversation akin to speaking to a wall.”

“From my perspective, I am speaking to a wall,” you point out and the stranger chuckles under his breath. “May I ask why you aren’t socializing with the others?”

“I could ask the same of you, considering that you’re cowering behind a column.” The jab was evident. Your mouth drops in indignancy and, had it not been for heat exhaustion and your nice spot in the shade, you would have decked whoever was on the other side of this conversation. 

“I am not cowering,” you huff, taking another sip and willing the temperature to decrease just a few degrees. “I am merely…taking a break.”

“Taking a break where no one else can find you? For ten minutes?”

“A woman values her privacy,” you argue. “And as far as I’m aware, you were able to find me quite easily. Perhaps you were the one trying to hide, and I was the one who stole your spot.”

“So, you do acknowledge that you are stealing from me.”

“Space in this garden is not something to be claimed unless you are of the royal family, dear stranger.” You hope he can hear the smirk in your tone. 

“And yet, here you are, stealing what is rightfully mine.” 

“And yet, here you are, stealing what is rightfully mine,” you echo in a nasally, mocking voice that would have placed you in major trouble if your parents knew how you were addressing others. “Cease your bratty ramblings as if you own this palace.” The man barks out a laugh, a reaction you didn’t anticipate. It makes your heart race a little faster, in spite of your will to stay casual. 

“Have suitors ever told you that you’re quite the firecracker?”

“Bold of you to assume they get as far as to speak with me,” you correct without hesitation. Presentations were one of the stupidest parts of your present society, along with those tiny sandwiches and that tea that tastes like boiled shoes. “If they decide to pursue me, that’s their first mistake.” The stranger hums in a low tone. 

“Maybe you haven’t found the right suitor, then,” he muses and, before you can answer, the royal bugles announce the beginning of the duels. Excited cheers and the clicking sound of heels on pavement take over any remaining conversations. You whirl around to the other side of the column, anxious to see the mysterious man you were conversing with, but find the other side as vacant as when you first passed it. Slightly disappointed, you find your place along the perimeter of the circular stone courtyard and wait for the king’s advisor to speak. 

“Today is a day of celebration,” he begins, and you mutter the rest of his speech that you’d heard for the past four years under your breath. The hair stands up on the back of your neck and instinct tells you that someone was watching you, but you can’t find who it is among the hundreds of people present. You think you’ve found the culprit when you lock your gaze with a pair of strikingly blue eyes, but they disappear before you can identify the rest of the person. “And, as you are most likely already aware, this year we welcome His Highness Prince Touya Todoroki to the presentation ceremonies. Though he is of a royal family, those that wish to court or be courted by His Highness may present themselves as suitors as they ordinarily would.”

“And will the Prince grace us with his esteemed presence, or is he preoccupied with his ordinarily outlandish activities?” Sneers and snide remarks ripple through the crowd and the advisor struggles to regain their attention. That is, until that same loud barking laugh that you heard from the other side of the column cuts through the murmurs and mutters.

The voice that follows makes your blood run cold in your veins. 

“How bold to assume any of you are worthy of breathing in my presence.” 

“Your Highness–” 

“Shut up,” he spits, shivers spreading over your skin as the crowd splits to reveal an unruly mass of spiked white hair. His eyes are paralyzingly bright, cold and narrow while they scan the vermin before him. The rumors that circulated of his intimidating nature paled in comparison to the man before you, tall and lean and radiating the most dangerous aura you’d ever come across. All the previously gloating eyes became that of rabbits hunted by a wolf when they came under his gaze…except for yours. By some odd stroke of Fate, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d seen the Prince before, even though that was physically impossible. Maybe you’d passed another white-haired asshole in the market. “Well? Are we starting or shall you keep gawking until I staple your jaw shut?” The advisor stumbles, shrinking away like a mouse in a lion’s den. 

“Yes, Your Highness. May the first Lady to be courted please step forward!”

As the gowns start to swoop and the swords begin to swing, you’re again reminded of just how unnecessary the spectacle of presentation season always was. One by one, daughters of nobility presented themselves to the suitors, who would then step forward and duel one another for the opportunity to court the Lady. The fights were never to the death, of course, but the shame that came with losing more than one duel was close to it; nothing was more embarrassing, however, than having no suitors step forward when a Lady presented herself. It was your worst fear every season, one that you seemingly didn’t need to worry about this time around.

Still, you were met with the same pasty-faced suitor that had been attempting to win your hand for the past several seasons. He’d accumulated significantly more muscle mass since the previous season, but his hot-headed temper and objectifying tendencies were enough of a turn off to send him packing by the end of the first meeting. 

“You have rejected me time and time again, but that only makes you more enticing,” he declares, offering his hand to you while you roll your eyes behind your fan. Ladies who already received their matches swoon at his show of masculinity, but it only makes your stomach turn. “I will win you. That is my promise. And, if not this season, then the next, and I will persevere until the only eyes you look for in a room are mine.” 

“The only thing I would be looking for in a room with you is an exit,” you mutter. He doesn’t answer, eyeing you like you were a wise investment. Gross. 

“You’d do well to accept me.” Your attention darts upward and you meet his stare, irritated at your lack of a response. The volume of his voice drops so that only you two can hear it as he comes to stand inches away from your face. “It’s not like you have the privilege of other options. Marry me or life as a spinster is your only future.” 

“I wouldn’t marry you if the entire kingdom was at stake,” you hiss and his mouth turns up in a snarl, ready to bite out a response when the shing! of a sword being pulled from its sheath echoes through the courtyard. A quiet verbal commotion sets into the crowd, but you’re unable to see anything beyond the asshole before you. 

"Your business is with me, not her," warns a dangerously familiar voice and the man in front of you stiffens. "Let's get this over with."

“The…ahem…duel will begin once both suitors are in first positions,” the advisor relays with great hesitation. You’d never experienced a duel for your hand, yet it seemed that another man had been dealt into the game. With his face drained of its remaining color, Pasty-face draws his blade like an inexperienced marionette, clunky and jagged, as he takes his place in the circle, allowing you to catch the eye of his opponent, molten blue eyes that make your knees turn gelatinous. The prince was dueling for your hand. 

Prince Touya of the Todoroki family was dueling for your hand. 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[cherryskyies]

Changes

Bo Sinclair x reader

Word count: 600

This is probably shitty ngl not proofread or nuffin but it’s all i got this writers block is out of control.

Masterlist || Navigation || Ao3

Your eyes glance over the familiar scenery, nothing has changed on the outside, but you’re sure their wax collection has grown.

The whole drive to Ambrose you were worried they may have left, more specifically he had left, but one look around told you the three of them were still here — the fresh tire tracks leading to Bo’s old truck giving it away.

It’s an odd feeling you notice, standing so uncomfortably in the place you once called home so confidently.

His voice comes out of nowhere, direct and full of shock. “What are you doin’ here?” he asks, standing a foot behind you with a look of desiderium — not that you notice when you turn to face him. “You swore you’d never come back.” he reminds, sounding more stern.

You feel foolish in your response as regret begins to pool in your chest. “Came to see old friends.”

It sounds silly now that you’ve said it out loud and you can’t help but to step back in response to Bo’s rapid strides. “You didn’t bring the police on over with ya? If you did I swear“ he threatens, finger pointed in your face as his eyes bore into your own. “Tell me right now woman!”

You stumble over your words, this isn’t the Bo you know; or should say knew, reminding yourself you don’t know him anymore. “I didn’t — I swear I’d never do something like that.” you respond, hands shaking. But you can see he is still on edge, seemingly no trust in you or your words.

Bo steps back with a grunt, his voice much rougher when he speaks. “Guess time will tell.” but the look of pure hate doesn’t leave his eyes and it makes you uncomfortable; all of this anger was once love and the man standing before you is a stranger you knew so well.

“Would it be better if I left?” you ask, wondering why you showed up at all. “I didn’t think this through.”

He sighs, running his hands through his hair. “You never really do,” he responds, voice calmer as he watches your face heat up. “I’m sure Lester and Vincent would love to see you.” he adds, gesturing to you to follow him towards the house.

The house has remained a picture perfect copy of the last time you saw it which you found cute but unsurprising. None of the boys liked change. “They wouldn’t admit it to me, but I know they’ve missed you.” and in a way it feels as though he is admitting he missed you too and he curses himself for being so open with you. “It’s been quiet.”

You smile, moving from the entry towards the worn couch. “Not much has changed” you note, eyes landing on a polaroid picture sitting on the coffee table. The four of you were standing in it smiling, your arms around Bo’s waist. “I shouldn’t have come” you mutter apologetically, eyes tearing away from the photo and to the man in front of you.

But he’s glad to see you and he knows the others would be as well; he’d never admit that though. “You’re right,” he agrees, words betraying thoughts. “But you can leave tomorrow, you can’t drive in the dark.”

Bo remembers the two times he ever let you drive at night and neither ended well — one truck later he swore to never let you drive in the dark again.

You’re hesitant to accept his offer, nervous for what it would mean. “I’ll be fine, I’ve gotten better y’know.” It’s a lie and he doesn’t need to know that, but somehow he sees right through you and snorts at the slim possibility.

“Like I said,” he begins, eyes locking on to your own, “You can leave tomorrow.” and you nod.

[meguwumibear]

A Night Out Dancing

Tomorrow your party will reach JuLai. Tonight Wolfwood wants to dance.

thank you @/firein-thesky for commissioning this piece for the @ficsforgaza collaboration

The sky above No Man’s Land is inky and starless. The air stale and still. Despite the hour, the world around you is oppressively warm and dry. Nights in the desert are usually bitterly cold. You’re not sure what’s gotten into the weather today.

Vash at least doesn’t seem plagued by strange temperature, but then Vash can sleep through anything, including Meryl’s jerky driving, so the comparison isn’t fair. Meryl’s fast asleep too, tucked neatly into the driver’s seat. You watch her toss and turn for a while, wondering what she dreams of. Someplace nice, hopefully. Somewhere lush and flourishing and green.

Even Roberto seems to have found sleep, albeit at the bottom of a bottle. He’s snoring gently in the passenger seat, mouth wide open, empty liquor bottle still clutched tightly in his hands.

Seems everyone’s immune to the hot desert night but you.

There’s a chance it isn’t the heat keeping you up. It’s possible you’re making excuses, blaming the external world around you for your insomnia so you don’t have to turn inward, so you don’t have to confront your building anxieties about what the future holds for your little traveling party. It’s going to crack and splinter apart, isn’t it? Like that land mass you once read about in a book that spoke of some far away planet called Earth. Pangaea. A supercontinent forced apart by shifting tectonic plates.

Tomorrow, you’ll reach JuLai, and everyone will drift away from you. You’ll spend the rest of your life trying to remember what it felt like to be whole.

Fuck it. If you’re not gonna get some shut eye, you may as well make yourself useful.

Wolfwood is perched on a sand dune, resting against his cross shaped gun, lit cigarette in hand, nearly burnt down to the filter. He takes one final drag of it as he sees you approach, then snubs the thing out in the sand.

“I’ll take over the watch,” you tell him, eyes drawn to the little ‘o’ shape his mouth makes as he lazily releases the final dregs of smoke.

“Not your turn yet, sweetheart,” he replies. “Go back to sleep.”

If only you could.

“Haven’t been able to. Too much shit on my mind. No sense in my staring at the back of my eyelids when I could be doing this instead.”

Wolfwood stares at you through tinted shades he hasn’t bothered to remove despite the darkness of the night. The glasses are a part of his costume, of his carefully crafted mask that even after months of travelling together he’s still hiding behind. He told you he’s an undertaker, but he dresses like a priest. On a runaway Sandsteamer, you learn he is an orphan. You’ve learned nothing since.

“You should take better care of yourself,” he says, as if caring for yourself is easy.

“You’re one to talk,” you reply, eyes giving him a quick once over. It’s been a few days since you’ve spent the night somewhere with a working bathroom. Without a mirror or razor, the stubble on his chin has grown more and more pronounced. The hairs suit him, you think. Your fingers itch to run along his jaw.

“You’re staring,” he observes, mouth crooking into a smug grin because the undertaker or priest or whatever the fuck he is knows how handsome he is.

“Am I?”

Wolfwood stands slowly, brushing beads of sand off him as he does so. You try to keep your eyes on his face, on the slope of his nose, the dimples on his cheeks, but they wander anyway, along his broad shoulders, down his tiny waist. You’ll miss him when this is over, you decide.

“Wanna dance?” he asks suddenly. The question throws you off kilter. How long has it been since you’ve done something so mundane? Will you even remember how? Is it appropriate to dance given what tomorrow may bring?

“What about-”

“Needle-noggin and the lot are out like a light. No one will notice if we steal a few minutes for ourselves.”

He closes the gap between the two of you and links his right hand with yours, fingers interlocking. His hands are large and calloused from lugging around that heavy gun of his. Briefly, you wonder just how strong the guy really is.

 “But there isn’t any music,” you protest weakly. Wolfwood is frustratingly good at sapping away your resolve.

“Don’t need any. We’ll make our own,” he insists, slipping an arm around the small of your back and pressing you close, closer, and closer still.

This close to him, you can see deep into his eyes. There’s fear in them. Sadness too. He’s trying and failing to mask the emotions with a smile, with this dance. It must be so exhausting, you think, always having to pretend.

“One dance,” you surrender, relaxing into his embrace. He smells sharply of tobacco and nicotine, though you note hints of something a bit earthier underneath. Sweat, probably. It’s been a while since any of you have showered. “Then bed. Unlike you and Vash, some of us need our beauty sleep.”

A lopsided grin swims across his handsome face.

 “Aw, think I’m beautiful, sweetheart? That’s nice.”

There’s a biting remark on the tip of your tongue that never fully forms. Yeah, actually, you do think he’s beautiful. You’ve thought so ever since Meryl slammed the news van into him all those months ago. The impact should have killed him—it would’ve killed you—but Wolfwood simply rose up from the sand as if rising from an interrupted slumber. Beautiful, even with rivulets of blood trickling down his face.

“Shut up,” you hiss, cheeks heating as you think a bit too intensely about his sturdy body which is now pressed flush against your own. Has Wolfwood always been this tall? This large? His giant frame engulfs you as the two of you sway together, in tandem with Wolfwood’s quiet humming.

You rest your head against his sternum, listening to the sound of his heart beating quick and urgent like the wings of a bird. His chest vibrates as he hums his tune. You can’t seem to place the song. Likely, he’s making it up as he goes, the tempo slow and somber like a dirge.

“Where’d you learn to dance?” you ask him, conscious of the way your two left feet have nearly tripped him up twice. Lucky for you both he’s not just a hulking lump of muscle. He’s got a great center of balance too.

You chalk your awkwardness up to the loose, shifting sands and not to the odd sensation forming in the pit of your stomach. More unfamiliar than unpleasant. You swallow a few times in an attempt to settle it.

Wolfwood shrugs, spinning the two of you round and round in circles. “It’s not all that different than fighting.”

There’s truth to that, you suppose, remembering the fight on the Sandsteamer. Wolfwood refused to talk about the stranger you all watched disappear into the open maw of the sand ocean, but it was obvious the man once meant something to him.

“You’re thinking too much,” he says. “Just follow my lead.”

So you do. You let him whirl you around the desert dunes for what feels like hours, grinning up at him through thick lashes when you manage to step on his toes. Again. He laughs, a little too loudly, and you have to remind him that if he’s not careful he’ll wake your sleeping companions.

“What are you going to do if everything goes well tomorrow?”

For the first time all night, it’s Wolfwood who stumbles. The misstep is small, slight, if you weren’t so entangled, you may have missed it, but you are entangled so you feel everything. You feel his feet stall as the question leaves your lips. You feel the rise and fall of his belly as he takes a deep steadying breath.   

His hand travels up the length of your spine, coming to rest at the nape of your neck. He thumbs across your vertebrae and you recognize the ministration for what it is: a silent plea for you to let the topic drop and just enjoy this moment the two of you managed to carve out for yourselves amidst all the chaos of the world.

You let your head drop once more, tucking it beneath his collarbone, right above his heart, still rabbiting in his chest. He isn’t humming anymore. There’s nothing to help the two of you keep time as you continue to sway together, now gliding across the sand like worms.

Around you, the clouds begin to clear and bright, twinkling stars start to peek out from behind them. A soft breeze kicks up around you, and the sand particles scatter with it. Wolfwood—Nicholas—keeps you pressed against him as the temperature mercifully begins to drop.

Your mind still wanders from time to time, curious what tomorrow may bring.

Who cares, you decide. It doesn’t matter.

Tonight, you’re content to dance.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Helping Hand 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of divorce, manipulation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Jonathan Pine, 40s reader

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The dull hues speckle in your vision. You've grown used to the haze and when it fades, you long for it. The pain melts way enough for comfort but not enough to be forgot. Always there, always aware of your own futility. 

It isn't the pain that rouses you that night but a sensation just as pertinent. At first, you're not sure what it is. Gentle waves on your skins, spirals that raise bumps, caresses that make you shiver.

You bring your hand up to meet another. Your touch lingers on Jonathan's wrist as your lashes flutter open. His silhouette is limned by the lamp behind him. The shadows set his features in a sinister way.

You murmur but don't speak. He hushes you, trading the strap of the sling that binds your arm. You groan at the ripple of pain underlined by something more. Something unbidden.

“All I want, dear, is for you to feel better,” he says as he pets your cheek, “do you know that? It's all I've ever wanted.”

You blink. You have no strength to argue. To point out the obvious. He's the one who has you at your worst.

“That day in the bookshop, when we met,” he turns onto his shoulder and lays on his side, “you looked lost and I felt as if I'd found you.”

You shake your head and squint. His words confuse you. He weaves such sweet soliloquys yet what he's done cannot be painted with pretty lies.

“You put that man above you for how long? And even after he abandoned you, you still could not put yourself first,” he cradles your face, “darling, can't you see that's all I'm doing.”

“No…” you whisper and close your eyes. 

You whimper and try to turn your face away. He catches your chin and tuts, keeping you in place as he lifts himself again. He surprises you as his lips meet yours. He kisses you softly, as if he means every word he says. A new sort of pain sparks in you.

He lets his fingers dance to your hairline. He moans into your mouth as his tongue delves inside. You squeeze your eyes tight, unable to resist. As much as you could blame the drugs, you know it's as much your own weakness. Just like those days you laid on your back and fulfilled your vows.

His fingertips graze your temple and cheek, down tour neck and along the crook of your collarbone. Further and further, feeling you through the light layer of fabric. That too big tee shirt that serves as your only shield.

He grips your hip as he leans over you, the slight pressure of his weight makes you squirm. You break away from his lips and gasp, grabbing him with your free hand, the sling keeping you trapped below him. 

“Please, Jonathan,” you beg.

“Darling, darling,” he kissed along your chin, “I only want to take care you, hm? Just because he never did, doesn't mean no one will.”

“No, stop,” your voice crackles, “please…”

“Sorry, darling, sorry,” he rasps between nibbles along your neck, “I won't mention him. It's best…” he kisses your shoulder, “if we both forgot that pesky ex.”

“N-no,” you squirm, “please…”

“I won't…” he let's the sentence dangle, “no, I only want a little.”

You wriggle, groaning at the agony it nails into your bones. You still to quiet the pangs, whining as he lifts himself over you. His hand wanders up and down your side as his lips descend your body.

He pushes up the bottom of the tee and bares your stomach. You babble and hide beneath your eyelids. He rolls the fabric above your chest as his lips tickle the tender flesh there. You quiver as he nips and pecks at you.

For a moment, you think it might be delirium. That the painkillers have skewed your mind. You want to believe it but it's all too real.

Just as real as that flamed stoked in your core. That glimmer of desire that lights your horror. You shouldn't like it. You shouldn't want it. It's that desire that comes from neglect. Of desperation.

His hand roves over your body, admiring you, worshipping you. No, consuming you, controlling you, violating you. You shudder as he teethes and kisses along your chest, toying with your sensitive buds and your overwrought nerves.

“It feels nice, doesn't it darling?” He speaks into your flesh, “I can tell, the way you tremble…”

You let out a moan, tortured but easily mistaken for delight. His hand brushes along your hip and down your thigh. He cloying drags his fingers back and forth, circling nearer and nearer your vee. 

You bite your lip as he nudges you lightly, shifting his legs between yours. He hovers over you, smothering your lips once more. He kisses you hungrily as his fingers trail along your pelvis. He delves between your folds as he swallows your groan.

He rubs you, slow but firm, curious but certain. His touch awakens your body even as your mind stays foggy. He draws pleasure from you easily. Expertly. 

As before, you are defenseless. You have no way to resist him. He is above you in every way. More than physically. 

He rolls your bud beneath his fingertips. He kisses you ravenously, puffing and panting, moving his hips in time with his hand. He slides his fingers down and dips them inside you, pressing the heel if his hand against you.

He rocks his hand, electricity shooting down to your toes and up to the crown of your head. You tense as the unyielding pain mingles with your stolen delight. You whine and turn your head away, his lips smearing across your cheek.

He breathes in your ear, growling as he tilts his hand, adding to the pulsing pressure in your core. You can feel how wet you are. You can hear it. You bite back another moan.

This isn't fair. It isn't. But life has never been very fair to you. Nor have the men in it.

[serenefreakgeekao3]

Ambivalent Days

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Michael, this is not a funny joke-”

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

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

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

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

“But-”

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

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

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

“Pam-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s really going on here Michael?”

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

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

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

“What is really going on here, Michael?”

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

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

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

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

“My thunder Pam!”

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

“Jim, that’s unnecessary.”

“I feel it was completely necessary, Pam.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because I lied for attention.”

“And?”

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

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

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

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

“Can I do it after I change?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep.”

“Did they have questions?”

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

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

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

“I suddenly don’t want to know.”

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

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

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

“Oh, I’m sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Haven’t I told you enough-”

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

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

“Ok, so if he still wanted breasts-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Actually, it’s kinda itchy-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gay.

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

“No, it’s fine. I like it back here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, what?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, nothing really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean…?”

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

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

“You seem excited about this.”

“Absolutely! I’ve been waiting forever!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, no, of course not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s ridiculous-”

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course it is, Jim.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag List: @ltnoscara @zombieboyevan @cursedashes

[romance-rambles]

qixi clarence | one residence household

Having grown tired of being neighbors, you ask Clarence to move in with you.

1.8k, post-canon, domestic fluff + slight humor, reader is mc, series: none

THERE COMES A TIME IN every couple's relationship when they must consider the benefits of moving in together—and marriage, though one generally implies the other.

To you, it becomes evident rather quickly that your current way of life is no longer enough to satisfy you. Your days are often some variation on seeing the man you love, either requiring you to wait or to traverse the water with his blessing. And that, for a time, was enough.

But the first thing you see when you wake up is always the empty space next to you, where you wish there would be a man instead.

And when you sit down for breakfast, as a human might, there is always enough food for two. Clarence comes in from the front door, still a guest in a home that may as well be half his. Though he has a key of his own, you have to let him in. Exactly three knocks, evenly spaced, or he'll worry and let himself in.

When it's the other way around, you stroll into his home like you own it.

On days he doesn't come, for whatever reason—you didn't realize it was possible for water dragons to get sick, for one—your longing is enough to conjure an apparition to sit in his place. You've been told it's pathetic, and though it comes from that nuisance of a fox, you can't really deny it.

However, in a bolt of brilliance, you managed to blurt out a particularly witty response the last time you were told so:

Only if I don't do anything about it!

So, here you are, a week after that conversation, with a hint of scarlet on your lips and cheeks—and a table full of Clarence's favorite foods.

You've developed a hobby of writing such things down, though never on paper at first. Not until you find yourself in the quiet of your room, amongst the abandoned love letters you hope he'll never read. The memories attached to them make it too difficult for you to burn them in some remote place, far enough from your home that Clarence does not take notice of the smoke.

And as for the extra fanfare—

You've never heard of a man who doesn't go weak for his lover in red. Or so the books you've managed to get your hand on in the mortal world say. Just a little bit of insurance, not quite a full seduction tactic.

If he says no, you have no choice but to accept that answer.

For now.

But there's nothing that says you can't tip the playing field in your favor before that.

As per your expectations, Clarence reveals his presence by knocking on the door. You open the door immediately. Much like a pet waiting loyally for the return of its owner, you make sure to sit by the door these days, a bowl of noodles in hand.

Because one of the earliest moments in your romance that this house witnessed was you tripping over yourself to open the door—and subsequently getting sauce all over your outfit. Your lover has not let it go. You don't imagine he'll ever let it go.

Your children will know, and their children will know, and you can hardly get mad at a face so beautiful. Being teased by him like this is a much better future than not having him at all.

"Is something on my face?" you ask, the very picture of innocence.

He blinks. Rather stupidly, if you have to add anything else. You take this as assurance of your victory—perhaps tomorrow, at this time, you might be late for breakfast, the novelty of sharing your bed with someone else overpowering your eternally empty stomach.

"…you look lovely," Clarence says eventually.

The tips of his horns redden. You stifle a giggle and allow him in.

BREAKFAST STARTS AS IT NORMALLY does, if the pigment on your lips and cheeks is to be ignored. And Clarence does an awful job at it, so much so that the snarky voice in his head can't stop pointing it out.

It sounds surprisingly like that fox friend of yours.

His name is Stellan, and for all that bluster, he seems to care for you deeply. If Clarence ever says anything on the matter, he knows you'd agree. When it comes to the reverse proposition—that you, as well, seem to care for him—he thinks you might deny it to your dying breath.

Part of it, the dragon suspects, might be that you don't want him getting any wrong ideas. The other part might just be stubbornness.

"Is there something you want to say?" asks Clarence, the moment he finishes eating the food you prepared.

He tends to be a fan of taking it slow, carefully chewing everything as much as he can. You inhale your food—it's there one minute, and gone the next. This tends to leave you with much time to stare at him, often with a dreamy expression.

Clarence is not yet privy to those thoughts, but he thinks he can make a few educated guesses.

This time, there's an intensity to your gaze that often appears when you have something to ask of him. Whether it's his thoughts on the food, or if he's interested in going out on a date in the nearby town, he's learned how to speed up the process.

A little nudge, with all the subtlety of a rock.

Resting your chin atop your intertwined hands, you tilt your head cutely. Batting your eyelashes is unnecessary, but it does serve affirm that Stellan's words are correct. He chose to use the word desperate; Clarence, however, prefers the word determined.

"Don't you think getting up every morning to come here is a bit exhausting?" You lean in close. "I was just thinking, isn't that a waste?"

A faint smile tugs at his lips. "How can that be? Especially when I get to see you every morning."

Your lovely eyes shine with affection. In the time he's spent with you, Clarence has come to realize that you're surprisingly easy to read. As they say, the eyes are the window to the soul—and you've never bothered to grab a curtain for those windows.

"But what if you could get to breakfast faster?" you propose, with all the energy of a merchant desperately trying to sell her wares. "What if there was a way to cut that time down to nothing? And—and! You could be spending that time doing more important things."

He pretends to think it over. "It would be nice to spend more time with you."

"Right?" Your hands curl into fists, your excitement leaving them vibrating in the air. "What if you moved in with me? Wouldn't that be—"

"Alright," Clarence agrees.

You blink at him. Multiple times. He waits patiently for you to process his words, passing the time by collecting the dishes and putting them away. When you start sputtering, he takes that to mean you're half way there.

"Just like that?" you finally manage to ask.

"Is that not what you want?" Tilting his head, Clarence pretends to be confused. "If you're not comfortab—"

"No!" You shoot up from your spot by the table immediately. Your stretched hand hangs frozen in the air, hoping to grab something on the other side of the room. "I mean, why don't we do it two…three days from now."

Awkwardness gives way to an endearing sort of confidence. Nodding your head, you cross your arms, as naturally as you can. As if you meant to do so all along. Stifling a laugh, he turns his back to you, distracting himself with the view outside your kitchen window.

"That sounds like a reasonable amount," he agrees.

Truthfully, he could move in today. It wouldn't be particularly difficult. But he elects to leave that for a later time, letting you enjoy your victory in peace.

"Great! I'll go prepare…" You pause. "Stuff. I'll go do that."

Five minutes later, he hears the sound of someone hitting the wall in her unending excitement.

STELLAN DOES NOT FANCY HIMSELF a meddler or a matchmaker, usually. He's content to watch idiots unwittingly walk to their doom—or, even better, their misery. Neither a conscience, nor any of moral qualification tend to have any say in what kind of entertainment he consumes.

Then, enter the idiot in front of him now.

You sit across from him, unaffected by the half-empty bowl of spicy noodles sitting in front of you. Its scent is enough to make him gag, but he's never been a quitter. He shoves a dumpling into his mouth and waits for you to drop your elegant façade.

That's not a word he ever expected to apply to an idiot like you, but bigger miracles have happened in the past couple of months. Namely, that you managed to rope a dragon on the verge of achieving the ultimate power into staying by your side in the mortal realm.

"Well, then," you start, clasping your hands together. "I guess it's time to talk business."

In attempting to fight back a sneer, he grimaces. "Well, out with it, Rat. I don't have all day."

You raise an eyebrow at him. Whatever retort you have for him, however, dies in your throat, as you go through the inane process of opening and shutting your mouth. Eventually, you decide that you have better things to do.

"Well, if you must know," you say proudly, "I'm getting married."

"Great," he answers blandly. "What does that have to do with me?"

Technically, it's plausible that he played a part in getting you to this point. He did, against his better judgement, seek out that dragon of yours and warn him of your plotting. It is something he hopes never to do again—one idiot is enough for him, especially when she's stupid enough to spend her years waiting for another idiot.

He was not worried about you.

The truth is, it's not satisfying to throw snark at you when you're half a person, wandering around the festivities like the dead. Coughing into his hand, he chases away those thoughts. Your smile widens, for some reason.

"What do you mean?" you inquire innocently. "I wouldn't have gotten this far without you!"

His grimace deepens. Oh boy, here it comes. You'll get the wrong idea and then you'll look at him with that annoyingly earnest look in your eyes and—

"I had to prove you wrong." Your grin grows smug. The words are enough to stop Stellan from cursing your dragon out. "You can't call me desperate anymore."

A snort escapes him.

"Yeah, yeah." The fox waves you off. "You're not desperate—you're unhinged. Make sure the food's good at the wedding."

He takes great glee in the way your lips twist into a scowl. All is right in the world.

— happy birthday, elisa! it's almost the end of your birthday, but i hope you enjoyed it!

[luffyvace]

Luffy x male reader hcs ☆

Cuz yeaaaaa I never see this?? I’m sure there’s some male luffy simps out there somewhere !!

come get your food I know you exist!! <3

Now luffy’s not gentle with anyone

but if your a guy he assumes you can handle yourself, weak or not

Why? Because your a man! And men have to do what a man has to do

Luffy has mentioned multiple times to protect nami

because she’s a young girl! (Not a grown woman—she’s eight-TEEN)

robin is strong and has a devil fruit so she’s different!

nami has average feats besides some decent durability

but yeah so he’s not gentle at all

you may get treated like zoro and usopp

you two probably seem more like best friends than a couple

luffy drags you EVERYWHERE on your adventures!

like literally you don’t remember a time where you two are separated

which leads me to believe one of his love languages are quality time

playing together, fishing together, fighting side by side, exploring together

did you notice how many times I said together??

yes!! Because your never apart!!!

so, what’s the other love language??

why physical touch of course!

luffy has no concept of personal space

as we know

so he’s always slingshotting onto you, hopping on you back (even if your smaller), dragging you around, whatever!

he does this subconsciously of course

The crew gets this as well but with as touchy as he is with you, you can tell you two are the couple of the group

don’t bother with dates unless you want to have a eating competition

that’s a date he’ll gladly take on without RUINING

In fact he wins!

every time-

no matter what type of competition it is luffy will never hold back

not even to make you feel better 🤷‍♀️

if you’re just as hyper as him you two are the chaotic duo

nami is always scolding and punching you both

not that you learn your lesson or anything

you guys are always doing stupid stuff like challenges and pranks

and bothering your fellow straw hats when you get bored

🤪

With a more rational boyfriend

luffy doesn’t calm down at all

nor does he listen to you any better than nami

he drags you around on his silly adventures whether you want to or not

in fact that may be how you joined in the first place!

(you remind me of law—platonically)

Luffy always laughs and says “come on m/n it’ll be fun!” Whenever you express you don’t wanna do something

yeah he’s not a great listener

but he is good at picking up on feelings!

so if your genuinely sad he can tell straight away you aren’t your normal self, even if your the world’s best actor

m/n being more sentimental/emotional actually kinda goes hand in hand with luffy since he can pick up on those if nothing else

although you’ll be going through a roller coaster of said emotions-

at least he listens to your demands a little more

Unlike zoro for example as to where he doesn’t get to finish his sentences 🤦‍♀️😬

if luffy ever gifts you something it’ll either be so perfectly accurate (you probably think someone helped him but he did it by himself and didn’t think much of it)

or 😬😬😟

“gee..thanks luffy..”

”no problem m/n!” 😊👍

LOL

if your weak luffy won’t train with you-

you either train with zoro or get stronger with time

it’s not that he doesn’t want to

it just doesn’t cross his mind

he spent 10 years training, he thinks he’s pretty good

All he needs now is experience and adventure!

but if you ask him? Sure!

(im warning you this is training and he doesn’t hold back, especially since your a guy)

idk why luffy thinks guys can handle everything??

like dang you could be a lil gentle..?

anyway yeah

if your strong? Great!

now you can fight along side him :)

random

luffy tells you about everything and anything

Even stuff you don’t wanna know..

”OIII M/N COME LOOK A FISH POOPED IN THE OCEAN!! USOPP WASN’T LYING!”

what??

YUP I’m ending it there 😜

Hopefully my male readers enjoyed this!~ more op content coming soon💗

[differenteagletragedy]

Hi, if you're willing, could I request some clingy Cove headcanons? Thanks

Clingy Cove is the best! Love him to bits.

-- When it comes to you, the boy just does not need personal space. It's not a requirement. Totally unnecessary.

-- If you do need it, that's fine! He'll absolutely give you as much as you need with zero complaints! Being clingy often has a negative connotation, but that's not what it is with Cove. He fully supports you doing whatever you need to do emotionally, having friends, being with your family, all of that OBVIOUSLY.

-- But if it was entirely up to him, he'd just rather be with you always. You are home to him, you have been for almost his whole life. With you he feels safe and comfortable, he feels like himself. He feels seen and accepted and loved, and it's the best feeling in the whole world.

-- So if you need some time to yourself, just tell him, ok? Because otherwise he's going to want to be right there.

-- You don't actually have to DO everything together, parallel play is wonderful! If you work from home, he'd just want to hang out in the same room if he's home too. If you're cooking dinner, then he can help, or at least sit on the counter looking pretty. If you need a nap and he's not sleepy, maybe he'll lie down with you anyway and read. And when he's older and more settled, why take two showers when you can just share one?

-- For real on that last one though especially, he's in ORCA, he's going to be about water conservation. Baths/showers together are very very important quality time.

-- It's like he just sort of doesn't understand the appeal of being alone if he could be with you. Again, if you do, that's great, he's more than willing to work with it.

-- I am going to be lazy and copy and paste something from another ask because it fits here too and I was thinking about this one when I wrote it lol

-- The whole thing about Cove is that to him, you are the best person in the world. And that's not just something to say, he literally thinks you are the best person in the entire world. He doesn't know most of the other people, sure, but he doesn't have to because how could anyone else be better than you? Remember, when he was little he thought you were actually made for him, and even though he's grown up and he's realized that's not how people work, the general belief is still there. You are the only person for him, and in that way, you were made for each other.

-- When you live together, if you like to sleep in or if you just sleep a little later than he does, every day is going to start with him trying to figure out if he should get his day started or just cuddle you for longer.

-- Sometimes if he really needs to get something done and decides to get up while you're still sleeping, he'll feel bad and try to sneak back in bed without waking you up. This, or if he really is just too busy, you have to get in bed earlier to make up for the lost time.

Cove: Come on, it's bedtime!

You: It's 8:30.

Cove: Yeah, and there's a cuddle deficit that we need to address.

-- He knows the exact math on this, don't try to argue with him.

-- I could genuinely do this all day.

-- What if after Step 3 you move away? Man is that gonna be hard.

-- I don't generally like the idea of taking Cove away from the beach, but I think if it's between the beach and you, he's going to pick you every single time.

-- So it may take him a little bit if plans are made more last minute, or if you don't confess right away, but if he knows you're going to college for FOUR YEARS far away, or if you get a job in another state? He's going to have a hard time just letting that be that.

-- When you are apart, he will text all the time. He's not expecting a conversation every time, he's fully aware of how clingy he is, but if he sees something that reminds him of you, he'll send you a photo, stuff like that.

You: *checking your phone on your lunch break to see several texts from Cove*

Cove: Do you remember when that bird stole dad's sandwich lol *sends video of bird*

Cove: I wish we were at the beach

Cove: Can we make fudge tonight

Cove: I miss you

-- This is obviously cannon, but when he gets settled he doesn't care that everyone knows how clingy he is.

-- Why would he? He is SO PROUD to be yours!

[icycoldninja]

Can you write the DMC boys with a reader who has jealousy issues, like she can’t help it but the more she’s around someone in all types of relationship, she always find a reason to be jealous of a certain aspect of them

For example:

- She admires Lady’s bravery but is also jealous of her because of it

- She like Trish’s luscious locks but is also jealous of her for not having it

-She admires Vergil’s determination but it reminds her of her lack of determination and ambition so she became jealous of him

She did not mean to get jealous of them, it’s just smth she subconsciously do if she’s around that certain person a lot and it affects how she might perceive them and how their relationship can go. Because of her jealousy, she can’t help but force herself to achieve something if that means to be on the same league as them or (maybe) better than them

Which means she regularly withdraw herself around those she loved to invest time to work her bones off to be even comparable to them, one part due to her ego another part due to being compared with her peers when she was younger by her family members

Oh man, is it bad that I kinda relate to this?

Sparda boys + V x Reader jealousy issues headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante wasn't really aware of your jealousy as you put up a great cover and hid it from him extraordinarily well.

-Things continued as normal, though whenever Dante praised you, there was a part of you that just didn't accept what he said, that was convinced you weren't good enough, causing you to become jealous of everyone around you.

-You were jealous of Lady's bravery, Trish's beauty, Vergil's motivation, and more. Eventually, you began to reveal your true thoughts through your actions, which led Dante to ask you if anything was wrong after watching you have one particularly cold conversation with the others.

-You were extremely reluctant to admit you had issues, but once he heard, Dante scooped you up into his arms and assured you that he thought you were the best.

-He does his best to uplift you and make sure you remember how precious and amazing you are to him. There's no need for you to be jealous of others when you have everything they do, at least in Dante's eyes.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil noticed you were always on edge and pouty-faced whenever others were around.

-He didn't know why, so he kept silent. Little did he know that you were secretly jealous of everyone because you thought they had something you didn't, be it beauty, brains, or even more power. You just couldn't be happy with yourself, always wanting what others had.

-He observed you for several months, taking in every detail of your behavior as you talked to the others.

-After a while, he concluded that you seemed to be displaying jealousy, though you were trying your best to hide it. He immediately confronted you about it, but instead of trying to appease you by saying good things, he encouraged you to improve yourself.

-His logic is sound, and pretty much the same as yours. If you're want something someone else has, then why don't you work hard for it instead of sitting around being envious? He cheers you on in everything you do, giving you MOTIVATION. Of course, he does remind you to take breaks and relax every now and then.

□ Nero □

-Nero noticed you looked uncomfortable around the Devil May Cry staff but brushed it off as social anxiety or something like that.

-Then you started withdrawing from society, practically ghosting him as you worked yourself nearly to death trying to attain that same level of affection.

-Nero didn't want you to die of overexertion, so he lowkey kidnapped you so he could talk to you about your issues.

-Though you resisted at first, you warmed up to him eventually and explained how you wanted to be the best due to both your ego and having grown up being compared to your peers.

-Nero was sympathetic to this and from that point on, did his best to ensure you got to rest in between bouts of vigorous self improvement.

● V ●

-V knew there was something wrong the day you decided to ignore all his phone calls, something you never did before.

-He'd tried visiting you, but your doors were locked, windows closed, and shades all drawn. He feared you were sick, or injured, and so used his familiar to break in.

-He found you fast asleep in front of the computer, having apparently been working your ass off all night, but for what? Once you'd woken up, he made sure to ask you just that, and when he heard the truth about why you were like this--that you had jealousy issues and were extremely competitive--something changed inside him.

-It was like a switch had been flipped and now V was in a mode he never knew existed: mom mode. He comes by your house so often he might as well move in, making sure you're eating well and taking breaks in between whatever it is you're doing.

-He just wants what's best for you because if you're left to your own devices, you might work yourself to death.

[youremyheaven]

this is gunna sound so weird... men make my skin crawl. Like im attracted to men but everytime i see a man, my rbf awakens and i become hyper aware of my surroundings 😭

it doesn't help that im attending an all girls college now... any advice on how to ease up pls around them? I find it hard to even want to talk to them 😭 ik all men aren't bad and i may always not be in danger (imagine that in all caps and red) but i just wanna be able behave and think like a normal person around them ( this is so much that i even can't stand strangers)

Loads of luv to you ❤

honestly i hope u meet better men!!! there are some disgusting nasty perverted pieces of shit out there who dont deserve to be around women and i completely get why u would feel repulsed by them.

i wonder if u have malefic influence, they usually struggle the most with the opposite gender

tips on how to ease up around men:

think in terms of energy. dont project anger or hatred because thats what you will see in return. i know this is very triggering and difficult for many people but you HAVE to believe in good to SEE good. despite absolutely everything that ive gone thru, i still believe that people are inherently good, kind and helpful and i see proof of it everyday.

ive had men treat me with dignity, respect and kindness in the shadiest of circumstances and ive had men be nasty to me out in the open, so it just comes down to character. just think of men as people honestly and not as hound dogs about to attack u.

2. imagine them as little boys

sometimes when men are soft or boyish with me, it reminds me of how they mustve been as kids and it warms me. i have two little boy cousins who are 12 and 6 respectively and they both adooooreeee me and want to marry me when they grow up🥺🥺🥺theyre the sweetest kids on the planet and i could never ever feel otherwise, theyre my babies. idk if this is something u can relate to but think of a little boy you're close to, how innocent and silly he is and how you could never see him as a threat or hate him and understand that grown men can be like that too.

3. how we treat people has a lot to do with how people treat us

if you have a rbf and generally act standoffish and cold/distant, then you're probably perceived as being bitchy 😬😬and nevermind men, even women probably find u intimidating or hard to approach. im only saying this because learning how to navigate social situations is 90% of adulthood and the key to personal and professional success.

learn to smile more. i know women hate being told to smile but honestly we should alllll smile more. force yourself to do it until it becomes a habit. be that person who smiles at strangers. dont u feel happy when someone smiles at you??? so in turn, be that person to others!!! <33

learn to get out of your head. most people think too much. i hate spending time with people who talk about everything from a victim pov. like yes sure u/we women, are in a position of disadvantage in many ways, historically speaking but ???? this attitude?? wont get u anywhere. (I'm speaking generally and not about you particularly)

i would say the key is to turn inward and work on yourself. read all those cliche self help books about "how to influence people" yada yada,, learn social etiquette and watch all those youtube gurus who teach soft skills. forget about men and hating them for a second and just focus on self improvement. as you change, youll see the world change with u.

just think of men as people basically. also idk if youre familiar with carl jung but i feel like you have a wounded animus. many women who grew up with an absent (emotionally or otherwise) father grow up to project all that onto men. and in turn have damaging relationships with men!!

im not a man defender and im in no way saying all men are good but i genuinely dont think its healthy to hate, thats all!!

idk if any of this is helpful sikeee but lmk if u have any updates

also lots of love to u too angel!!<3

[sonicfanthenightfury5099]

Werewolf! Michael myers RZ Halloween NSFW Alphabet

Note: I wanted to do an NSFW Alphabet for the Werewolf Tall Mickey for a while now. This gif is giving me them Tall Myers vibes.

18+ Minors DNI

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex?)

Panting like crazy, he's been through so much fucking he's panting like a dog who ran a long way. He starts to clean himself like a dog licking your juices off his balls, which leads him to clean your back, which you don't mind. He then asks if you want food, which you replied with a yes to that. Eating in bed with making sure you're doing well after the fucking he did to your body, He'll lift you up to take a hot shower before bed.

B = Bodypart (Their Favorite Bodypart of their body and also their Partner's)

The giant is a Werewolf. His arms had a lot of strength to them to decapitated a victim, and the jaws he has, he would be breaking bones and crushing wind pipes with his large fangs.

You and your small frame to him perfect to him. He loves your soft lips that are so comfortable against his. He melts when you try to reach his face to cress it

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He has a breeding kink, and he's staying in deep till he fills you up real good.

D =Dirty secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to see you in loose lingerie, which he will try carefully to take it off in a creative way every time. A way of teasing you till be gets down to the night of breeding sex

E = Experience (How experienced are they?)

He had none if you lived in a Sanatorium for 15 years, and you mostly did art in your room. You can only imagine it was when he got out he had seen Victims doing it, especially in his old abandoned house. He may have seen some videos online when you were at work.

F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)

Missionary, easy position to learn, and to see your face scrunched up in the amount of pleasure you're in. Cowgirl, you can ride and bounce on top while he watches you ride on his beast and play with yourself. Doggie Style, do I have to say why he loves this position? He'll put you into this position for a little rough fucking from behind. Mating Press, his breeding kink kicks in when he's ready to release his load into your warm womb. He'll stay in that position as a plug to keep his semen inside you.

G = Goofy (Are they more Serious in the moment, or are they humorous, ect?)

This time means I want to make you feel amazing in the moment, so he doesn't want the mode spoiled by something goofy during the act he'll become grouchy which will take forever to get him back in the mood.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the Carpet match the Drapes, ect?)

On top he has lovely long locks, he had grown out when he was in Smith's Grove with some stuble on his face, down below, it's a little forest, but a quick trim down there it looks better. When he goes wolf, looking a bit like an Old English SheepDog due to his long hair, and his abdomen is completely covered by his long wolf hair.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect..)

He's definitely wanting to give you a lot of kisses while praising your body during what he calls sometimes, "Breeding time," which is every time when you both have sex. Having him holding you in his arm in between rounds, he's careful not to be laying his whole body on you. Definitely saying sweet nothings in your ears during the round.

J = Jack/Jill off (Masturbation headcannon)

He doesn't do it often, but if that urge creeps on him, he's going to take care of it. He can turn you on by how he would show how he strokes, starts at the base of his shaft stopping halfway, then strokes fast at his tip. Making a wet sound from it, he will do that when he fingers you.

K = Kinks (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding, praising of any kind, Cockwarming, and size differents kink

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do )

This man wants to rut in the bedroom cause it's more comfortable for sexy time.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going?)

A touched starving man gets turned on by suggested touches on his body. He would be thinking about you with a heavy pregnant belly with swollen breasts for you and his pups that makes him go into breeding mode.

N = No (Something that they wouldn't do, turns offs)

Definitely, no mentioning Smith's Grove or Sister

Won't turn you into a Werewolf if you ask him. He loves you this way.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skills ect)

Definitely giving you some oral, eating you out like a straving beast. Michael definitely enjoys a good oral treatment on his disco stick (He'll pound you real good as a Thank you.)

69 is his favorite. He's eating you out while you're giving him head.

P = Pace (Are they Fast and Rough? Slow and Sensual? Ect.)

Does start slow before picking up the pace and going to pound town. He doesn't want to go too rough on you, but he can't help it. He loves you so much. He'll go soft the next round

Q = Quickies (Their opinions on Quickies rather than proper sex, how often, ect)

Depending on how he feels, he would not be interested one day. The next, he's got you bending over the couch or counter and give you one. He'll be giving you more when he is done hunting.

R = Risks (Are they game to experiment, do they take any risks, ect

Out of curiosity or just getting horny when out in the woods, he would want to go down on you in the woods. Like a wolf in the wild, he will do the dirty with you on a blanket (so your back isn't pricked by branches just so you're comfortable while in pleasure Town) He might want to fuck you when he's in his Werewolf forme, his huge dick on you looks like it can't fit in and would tear your holes into one big hole (and a trip to the ER)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)

Will go all night if he's back home early or he's having a day off, around 10 or 12 rounds, depending on how much energy he has that day. Morning sex is a big Yes for him.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

You probably have a vibrator you have in your dresser that you would use before you met Michael. You take it out to use it when he's not home and needy of him. He finds it useless cause why would you use it if he can give you endless hours of pleasure from him.

U = Unfair (how much do they like to tease)

His form of teasing is showing you is the for mentioned of stroking his cock, and fingering while stroking his tip making a luded sound from it. Cockwarming is another form of teasing from him he'll be in you for a while till he's ready.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make?)

Loud Panting, grunts, and moans in his gruff voice, Hella hot.

W = Wildcard (Random Head cannons)

When you first met, Michael wasn't comfortable with you on seeing his face. He would wear his wore out mask or his Jack o lantern one. When is he ready for you to see his face he'll let you do the honor of taking off his mask.

Michael would, on occasion, pick wild flowers when he's out for you. He would come home with a big boutique of wild flowers he found in the woods.

He would make you a mask as another form of his love for you.

Michael may not look like it, but he deep down he wants to hear the sounds of little feet on the floor one day. He would wonder when the day will come you tell him that you want a baby.

X = X-ray (What's going on in their pants?)

Human: A good size, 7 inches with good girth

Werewolf: Hidden underneath his shaggy fur is a near 10 inches cock with big girth and knot (he won't put all of it in but started half before going in fully when you get used to his size)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive depends on his mood. He would be cranky one day the next day he's horny and uses his look when he wants to rut.

Z = Zzzz.. (..how quickly they fall asleep afterwards?)

After a shower and some leftovers, you cuddle up with your man clean clothes and dried you'll drift off to sleep. He'll follow suit when you're asleep and you're doing good after the pounding you got from him.

[joesalw]

Ok, that's gonna be long one.

One jet is around $50 million. She has two. And now she had the ig tracking account taken down claiming that's an invasion of privacy. Very interesting considering the account existed for a few years and she didn't have any problems with it and now suddenly she gets called out for abusing the environment it's become invasive. The lady is shady. And the fact that her answer about not going to therapy is 'i feel very sane'. Oof. She's republican raised for sure. Those people think that any mental health issue equals clinical insanity and if you're seeing a therapist there must be something wrong with you.

She's jumping from one relationship to another and doesn't even know who she is. She just molds into whatever her man wants or what looks best for the image. She doesn't know how to exist on her own. For someone who presents herself as a 'girlboss' she sure doesn't have a sense of self-worth and always has to have a man next to her. No matter how bigoted he may be. She's not getting any younger so she's getting desperate and that's probably why she's unleashing on Joe. If she wants a kid, she doesn't have much time left so she latches on to every man throwing themselves at her in hopes of a happily ever after. It doesn't work like that. Fix yourself first then move on to look for someone to build a life and future with. There's no way any sane grown man would want a self-sabotaging, fight-picking, obsessive overgrown teenager with no sense of boundaries to even marry let alone have a child with. She doesn't know where her public life ends and private one begins.

I'm sure Joe saw all of that and dipped. It's not good to bring a child in that environment. And if they'd ever had one, she'd go on with her life and he'd be a house husband. I've never seen TS as maternal, nurturing or even mature enough to have a child because she seems not to have the capacity to take care of herself. In 2016 Joe was the one who took care of her and 'saved her'. It wasn't her own doing. And when he left, she started spiraling again. She portrayed herself as a mature grown woman in her 2020 albums and that turned out to be a farce. She's still that same insecure 16 year-old but richer, more influential and famous. Her recent interviews are a solid proof of that.

Her music is also nothing special. Some generic pop with repetitive and recycled melodies. She's not a vocalist, not a dancer, doesn't have a superb instrument skill, there's barely any emotion in every song she sings. Her lyrical topics are the same and don't hold any though provoking themes. She uses nonsensical metaphors and uncommonly used words to make her lyrics look better and herself seem smarter. It doesn't change the point of the song though. Argumentative antithetical dream girl is just a glamorous way of saying manic. Machiavellian is a way of saying manipulative, being morally indifferent and self-serving, lacking empathy. Sure does sound nice, huh? "I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian (manipulative, selfish, deceptive, cunning. call it whatever you want) 'cause I care". Machiavellianism in psychology is described as one of the traits in the Dark triad model. Right along narcissism and psychopathy. Mastermind is masterminding out in the open and no one bats an eye. The psychologists that named the trait after Niccolo Machiavelli said that one of the core features is lack of concern for conventional morality (they aren't concerned about the morality of lying and cheating). If you're into psychology Richard Christie and Florence L. Geis (the ones that named the trait) have a book "Studies in Machiavellianism" which is a pretty good and insightful read.

(just my assumption) I'm sure Joe dropped that word on her and she was like 'ooh, sounds nice and Machiavelli was like very political, a bit controversial and cool and people refer to him a lot, I'll definitely be using that in a song'. lmao. little did she know. I think she thought he meant it in a political sense and not a psychological one. Which are totally different things. And I'm sure he was like 'lol, she thought'.

There're a ton of celebrities bringing her up on talk-shows as well. At least once a week there's a bit on some show about a certain celeb's interaction with her. As someone who enjoys learning english trough media that's quite disturbing. I see her everywhere, TV shows, news articles, social media outlets. She's becoming inescapable. And that makes me wonder about the proportion of celebrities and journalists who genuinely like her and the ones who bring her up to get more attention. God forbid you say anything negative about her. Her Karen army will immediately send death threats your way, make fun of every aspect of your life or even dox you. And with her silence she's enabling this behaviour because she's a self-proclaimed Machiavellian (whether she chose a psychological meaning for the song or not) and doesn't care what her minions do as long as she doesn't get called out for it.

She only allows non-critical journalists to interview her. I mean, what kind of self-suck is that? An interview should be a form of discussion and not an ass kissing session. Any negative article about her will have your whole outlet blacklisted from interacting with her and her team. She needs to be in full control of the narrative all the damn time because she knows that once she lets go of the rein all of the skeletons in her closet will fall out on their own.

She's digging her own grave and I'm here for it. Last time she could make Kim and Kanye the villains and this time she'll have no one to blame but herself. Her narcissistic flat ass would make Tree the scapegoat if there's no one else she could point her finger to. It's always someone else's fault but hers. A chronic victim of this cruel patriarchal world.

I have studied psychology briefly and have learned about the dark triad and machiavellianism. What's surprising to me is that high mach people can gain advantage in the short run but ultimately lose their power in the long run because people start seeing through their surface level acting, which is what we're seeing through her behaviour right now. She acts to be an activist only when it benefits her. But swifties have so much obsession with her that even if they find it disturbing, they will try to justify it. Also idk how Taylor flexes about her machiavellianism, like to me that's not something to be proud of, the ends do not justify the means when you hurt so many people in the process. The fact that she's accepting she's cunning, manipulative, deceptive and lies to get things according to her own interest tells a lot about who she is as a person! no wonder why Joe didn’t want to marry her. Her machiavellianism trait only benefitted her in the short run