#sorry but why would you offer that you evicted people like that's a good thing
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Dany antis:
We have to understand that Mirri was devastated over her town and the abuse she suffered. To empathize. She’s a “hero” therefore, for killing a BABY.
We do NOT have to understand that Daenerys was devastated over the loss of her husband and child. She does not deserve empathy despite her losses. She’s “evil” for killing a grown woman who killed a baby.
We have to understand the culture of wealthy grown educated men who have subjected human beings to slavery for hundreds of years.
Oh, but they weren’t alive for hundreds of years! We can’t hold that against them!
But we also can’t deny them the benefit of the excuse that they’ve done this for hundreds of years.
We do NOT have to understand the culture of a teenage girl who is a Khaleesi of the Dothraki, who kills the wine seller for trying to kill her and her baby.
Because she killed him painfully. We don’t care that Varys suggested killing her with the tears of Lys, and remember that the victim dies an agonizing death. We don’t think about the morals of a painful death when the intended victim is Daenerys.
The same applies to when she crucified the slavers. We’re going to insist she did it indiscriminately, even though we know she didn’t kill a single woman who would have had less power, or child who would be entirely innocent, nor did she kill random civilians, they were all nobles. All slavers. But there are innocent slavers! Innocent slavers are definitely a thing.
The people who make laws that are not up to modern standards, like Daenerys, are evil.
But the people who follow those laws, like Ned beheading a man for running away from the dead, or Jon who beheaded a man for refusing to follow an order, or Robb who threatened to hang a man if he didn’t join the war against the Lannisters, aren’t.
Daenerys may have warned the slavers she would show no mercy if they didn’t free the slaves and pay them reparations, but she should have given them a trial even though they own the system.
It’s true they were all slavers, but if she was punishing them for being slavers, she should have killed all of them. The fact she didn’t kill all of them shows it wasn’t about justice, so she’s evil.
But she was also wrong for wanting to kill all of them, and Jorah talked her out of it. The fact he had to talk her out of it shows she’s evil.
And then when Daario tried to talk her into slaughtering them Red Wedding style, and she refused, that’s also proof she’s evil because Daario represents her evil nature.
We can empathize with the slavers! Because we might have done the same thing! We all like to think we’d stand against slavery, but if it’s our culture we might not. And we might stand by while our friends torture 163 children to death to spite an abolitionist.
We say we empathize with the slaves, too, but it’s more we sympathize with them. We understand that they are victims. We don’t see ourselves in their place. We don’t empathize with the anger the parents of those children felt. They follow Dany blindly. They don’t understand choice. That’s why they follow her.
What we CANNOT empathize with (because we know we would NEVER) is a teenage girl who walked along a road lined with the corpses of children who were tortured to death to spite her. We know a GOOD ruler would be stalwart in the face of such horror and hold a trial. Because even though the slavers own all the systems in existence in that city, there’s no way a trial could have caused the death of lesser evil instead of greater. Trials are foolproof!
She should have killed them all or tried to have every one of them examined by witnesses who are profoundly biased. We cannot empathize with that.
Dany’s attachment to the Dothraki shows her savagery. The Dothraki are rapists and slavers and she lusted after her husband when he made that speech and so it doesn’t matter how she tried to fight rapists later. They are all terrible. The Khals are monsters and she loved one, so that shows she’s a monster.
Also, she’s evil for killing the Khals.
She was wrong for sacking Astapor and Yunkai but not staying to rule them. She made it worse because poverty is as bad as slavery and the freed slaves are not able to build their own society, and she should have known that. She was wrong for not staying and ruling them.
She was also wrong for staying in Meereen and ruling it because that makes her a colonizer.
She agrees to allow adults to sell themselves into temporary slavery, and that’s wrong, because voluntary indentured servitude is as bad as generational chattel slavery-except when it’s in Westeros! The rulers in Westeros are rightful, but Daenerys was trying to enslave them by having them bend the knee! She was using the privilege of her father’s name, and it’s different when the Starks do it.
Dragons are evil. They serve no good purpose and she’s evil because she has dragons.
Also, Jon should have a dragon.
When Arya met the Lannister soldiers, and Ed Sheeran, that was to show how she realized that they are not all bad. This shows that sometimes enemies are good. This will show that we should empathize with enemies. That Dany is bad because she doesn’t even though she agrees to help the Starks, whose father supported the man who murdered her brother, and was not disturbed by the murder of her niece and nephew. Who would have killed a baby, had he known Jon was her nephew. Who would have killed her.
This does not apply to Daenerys and her armies, of course. The North was one hundred percent right to treat her with hostility.
Daenerys considered killing Tyrion when she met him! This shows that she is willing to kill people just because they are related to enemies! She’s evil!
Even though she named Tyrion her Hand. Even though she agreed to aid the North with no strings attached once she saw the army of the dead. Even though she accepted Varys into her service when he’d tried to have her murdered. Varys being part of the plan to sell a teenage girl into sexual slavery was not evil because she turned that to her advantage.
Dany was wrong for even considering killing Tyrion despite the fact that she didn’t and ultimately named him her Hand.
She was wrong for killing the Tarlys even though they were oathbreakers who killed their own friends and attacked their liege’s home. Even though the punishment for oath breaking is death. Even though they refused to bend the knee in exchange for keeping their lives, lands and titles, which is standard procedure in Westeros. Even though they refused the Wall, where Tarly sent his eldest son.
She didn’t kill them for oathbreaking or murdering her allies. She killed them for not bending the knee! Even though she only attacked them after they did that, and she did not harm Jon when he refused to bend the knee, she allowed him to mine her dragonglass, and offered to provide men and resources to help.
Sam was not wrong for hating Daenerys for killing his father, even though he was an oathbreaker, an abuser, and threatened to kill Sam. Even though he said that nothing would give him more pleasure than telling Sam’s mother that her son died. Even though Sam knew of Dany’s great deeds from Aemon. It’s understandable that he would still mourn his father. Even if his father was a monster, we have to empathize with his anger.
YET Daenerys is dead wrong for calling out Jaime for murdering her father. Her father was a monster! How dare she feel anything about his murder! She had no right to object to Jaime’s presence at Winterfell, even though he tried to kill her on the battlefield and said straight out said he wasn’t sorry for all he’d done and would do it again to protect his family.
She was wrong for restoring the family name of the man who killed her brother and cheered the brutal murders of her niece and nephew. Because she only legitimized Gendry for personal gain, even though he could have done the opposite of joining her, and tried to take the throne himself.
She is wrong if she is good to the family of her enemies because she is self serving, and she is wrong if she’s not good to them because it’s not their fault.
The Starks are not wrong for judging Daenerys by her father’s actions even though she came to help save them. Sansa is not wrong for wanting to evict children from their homes because their families were traitors.
When the Starks are suspicious of the family members of those who’ve harmed them, it’s fair. They are being smart.
When Daenerys is suspicious of the family members of those who’ve harmed her, it’s proof of her being paranoid like her father.
When Sansa told Jon that the free folk should join their fight against Ramsay, that they owed it to him because he’d saved their lives, that was smart!
When she told Arya “you should be on your knees, thanking me,” she had every right to assert her accomplishments.
YET, Daenerys was very entitled to want the North to fight Cersei with her in exchange for her helping them defeat the army of the dead, even though Cersei was their enemy too, and she sent them a letter saying “come bend the knee or face the fate of all traitors.”
It was not wrong of Jon to tell the North he bent the knee to save them, even though she said she’d help before he bent the knee.
It’s Dany’s fault the Night King got a dragon even though the wight hunt was Tyrion’s idea and Daenerys did not like it. Even though Jon told her, “I don’t need your permission. I am a king.”
Dany held Jon prisoner even though he had to stay to mine the dragonglass and he stated that he did not need her permission to leave. That’s what being a prisoner means, right?
Daenerys went mad because her family was fraught with incest. This does not imply that Jon will go mad, because his mother was not a Targaryen (even though his mother’s parents were related). Generations of inbreeding unequivocally mean madness, but the ramifications of those generations are undone if one guy at the end of the line produces a child with a woman whose parents were also related. That’s how genetics work, right?
Daenerys is a colonizer. Even though she didn’t have any goal other than destroying the slave trade in Essos. She only did that for selfish reasons even though Yunkai trains bed slaves and neither Meereen nor Yunkai added to her military might. Even though she never forced her religion or language on them. Even though she renounced power over the cities when she left, so that the people could choose their own leaders.
The Starks were never colonizers! Even though the earliest Starks were First Men, who committed genocide against the Children of the Forest. The First Men called themselves the First Men, they did not acknowledge the humanity of the Children. Therefore, the Children were not human.
The First Men destroyed the Children. The Starks built a Wall to separate the dead from the living, but left thousands of living and Children of the Forest at the other side of it. The Starks destroyed the other families, established power over the area, established their religion and language as the official religion and language. The Starks became the Kings of Winter by bringing to heel, and sometimes extinguishing, other families. That’s fine because the Starks are good. That’s not colonizing! The Starks were always good! They killed the warg king and his sons and beasts and then married his daughters. That’s not rape, that’s marriage!
The Targaryens who adapted the Westerosi religion and language and did not in any way repress other religions or languages, were the oppressors.
Dany hardly did anything in the Long Night. Her armies and dragons did not thin out the dead army, making it possible for Arya to kill the Night King. Two dragons can only do so much against an army of 100k. Even though Dany’s army also was over 100K.
YET, she burned MILLIONS in KL (even though the population of KL is under a million and even though I just said she could not have possibly taken out much of the dead army.)
When Daenerys didn’t weep and wring her hands over her abusive brother’s death that was evidence of her turning “mad.” Even though he abused her, sold her, and pressed a sword to her belly and threatened to cut her baby out of her body.
When Sansa smiled as Ramsay screamed, being torn apart by dogs, that was not a sign of anything bad. He abused her!
When Daenerys crucified the slavers even though a trial would have yielded nothing, because they had owned the entire system, that was a sign of her being a villain.
But Varys wasn’t wrong for trying to poison her before she did anything wrong because he sensed what she would do! Instinct > Trials. Unless the “instinct” is Daenerys’. Then it’s paranoia, even when the people she suspects of plotting against her are plotting against her.
When Arya killed two men, baked them into a pie, fed them to their father, slit his throat, smiled faintly as he died, cut off his face, then killed every one of his bannermen, with no knowledge of whether those men had been there at the Red Wedding, or whether they’d spoken against it, that was not a sign of her being a villain. Because if it’s a Stark, we understand complicity.
Besides, Arya is not a ruler. Only rulers do harm. Not explorers! Explorers who believe “I’ll never know her, she’s not one of us”, have never done anything bad in all history. Happy Columbus Day, btw.
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morning flights to toronto - b. boeser
AN: I couldn’t give you too many Christmas fics without a splaaasshhhhhhhh of angst, that simply would not be true to my brand. Sorry fic Brock for how often I break you? But it’s okay because it’s just a character and not real hehe. Hope you enjoy this one, it’s a concept I really love.
Word Count: 2613
Warnings: Angst but a good ending I promise.
A month and a half ago, if someone would have asked you what you were doing for Christmas, you would have smiled at them and told them you’d be in Minnesota, likely cuddled up by the fireplace with snow heavily falling outside, your boyfriend asleep next to you and your dogs at your feet. You would have told them how excited you were to go back to the place you had started to realize felt like your second home, a place where you pictured yourself raising a family, transitioning to a stage in life that you were starting to feel ready for. A month and a half ago, you would have been happily in love, instead of mending a freshly shattered heart during your favorite time of the year.
You replayed the conversation in your head, circling over and over his words that echoed through your mind, wondering how you could have misinterpreted the signs for so long. You thought you and Brock were on the same page, you had moved in together, and had even adopted a second dog together, a husky mix named Milo. But it turns out, you weren’t on the same page at all you were two souls who had found yourself so consumed by the love story you thought you had that you ended up not realizing that Brock was still on book 1, while you had steadily moved to book 2.
“I just don’t know that I see all of that right now,” he sighed. His head was resting in his hands and his eyes were blurry from his own tears that had started to fall as he spoke to you, a conversation that to him was the hardest thing he ever had to do. He loved you, that was never the problem. But sometimes, love isn’t enough to build a life with someone, sometimes you need something more than a connection that the two of you had.
“Right now? Or ever?” You whispered, your own tears falling freely as you desperately wished for him to say anything but ever. You could give him space, you could give him time, but you couldn’t rationalize the idea that you had loved him in a way that he didn’t love you. You couldn’t accept that it had been one-sided, not when you were starting to build a life together. Brock ran a hand through his hair, his voice was scratchy from the dryness settling into his throat, the lump choking back his own tears as his voice pulled your heart out and tossed it on the ground.
“I think we need to not be together right now.”
That phrase struck you in a way that nothing else had before. It settled into your chest and pitched a tent there, a tenant that wasn’t paying rent who you couldn’t evict. You weren’t even sure it felt entirely real until you were sitting with him and having a serious conversation about moving out, and taking Milo with you.
You tried not to think about the reality of it all, losing a three year relationship seemingly in a matter of moments. It didn’t matter how long you and Brock spoke in circles that night, it didn’t matter what shape you tried to construct to fix everything and hang onto him, he was holding a box and you were holding broken pieces that didn’t fit.
You were doing your best at what you hoped looked like starting over. You were trying to navigate finding yourself again after being so tied into one person, but it was nearing Christmas and as you sat in your friend’s sublet apartment with boxed of things around you that you and Brock had bought together and Milo at your feet, you wanted to be anywhere other than Vancouver for the holiday.
It had taken you four days to call your parents. Four days of replaying everything in your mind and wondering if maybe he’d call and say it was all a mistake. Four days of cycling through the same routine of going from the bed to the couch on autopilot, tears springing to your eyes each time something reminded you of him. Four days of wondering if he even was hurting at all, a question that you weren’t sure you even wanted the answer to yet tortured yourself with anyways. But it only took five minutes for your mom to convince you to come home.
That’s how you ended up back in Toronto, tucked away in your childhood bedroom that had been converted to be a guest room looking out at the blanket of snow that was dumping into the city. You settled into a new routine, waking up each morning and watching Milo out back playing in the fresh snow. You tried not to think about if he was missing Coolie as much as you were. You also tried not to notice each time Brock’s photo popped up as a viewer on your story, knowing that losing Milo was probably killing him.
Brock spent the weeks following the breakup leading up to Christmas poorly attempting to convince himself that what he did was right. He agonized over it, constantly telling himself that you were two people who had been lost in each other for so long, that you needed to find yourselves again. He tried to convince himself that the codependency was the problem, that you weren’t growing together anymore, hell, he even tried to convince himself that he was the one holding you back from your dreams, feeling guilty for just how willing he knew you would have been to follow him if he were ever traded. But the thing about telling yourself something until it's true is that it doesn’t work, and that was a lesson that Brock was painstakingly learning the hard way. He couldn’t even pretend it was any easier when he was back home in Minnesota, because at each turn his dad asked him things about you and it broke his heart each time he had to remind him that you weren’t.
Brock watched your story of Milo in the snow for what felt like at least the tenth time that morning. He heard your laugh in the background and you calling for Milo softly. He knew you were back home in Toronto, probably at your parents house running through the traditions your family had at Christmas. He remembers when he got to experience all of those with you, the year before. As he heard your laugh one last time from your story, he thought back to that Christmas, his own heart twisting when he thought about how he was always the one who could make you laugh, stealing wine drunken kisses in the kitchen in the dim light.
It took Brock one hour after you left to know that it was a mistake breaking up with you, but it took him three weeks and a Christmas Eve without you to come to the understanding that maybe, just maybe he could fix it.
You groaned softly as you blindly reached for the source of the buzzing on your bedside table. You had half of a mind to turn over and curl up in your blanket and ignore it, the last month your phone had been filled with messages and calls, each person offering what felt like faux sympathy at your broken heart. It got to a point where you dreaded seeing a notification, just wishing that your friends would give you space to heal on your own. They could only express so much sympathy for a situation that they didn’t understand. But it was Christmas Eve, and as you adjusted your eyes to your phone screen, you thought about how whoever was calling this late must have been important. As soon as you picked up the screen and saw the photo on it, him with Coolie curled up against his chest, you felt your eyes water and your mind twist. You wondered if you were hallucinating, but your finger slid across the accept button anyway and you held your breath as you lifted the phone to your ear.
“Are you there?” His voice came through when you didn’t say anything. It was soft and strained, and you felt your heart clench at hearing it after trying to forget about how he sounded over the last month. You sniffled slightly, wiping your eyes and sitting up in bed as you nodded as if he could somehow see your movements through the phone. Milo shifted slightly at your movements, and your heart broke even more.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry it’s so late. Fuck, it’s like 2:30 there. I’m- god please don’t hang up.” He whispered. For a moment you felt like you could see him, probably pacing back and forth in his condo, hand running through his golden hair. You didn’t know why he was calling, and you didn’t know why you chose to answer, but you stayed on the line anyway, because what’s a broken heart at Christmas without the added pain of the one who shattered it waking you up at 2 am?
“I’m here.” You said, your voice shaky. You leaned down to scratch Milo’s ear, your heart-tugging a big at knowing the breakup had not only affected you and Brock but the dogs as well.
“Uhm, I..” Brock started, and you sighed softly into the phone.
“Brock, why are you calling?” There it was, the question he had expected. The question he had spent the last month preparing himself for, running through the lists and reasons in his mind constantly, and now that he was here, listening to you cry on the phone, he seemed to forget all of them. He felt like shit, not only for himself for ruining the best thing he ever had with you, but for calling you in the middle of the night on Christmas and making you cry all over again.
“Come home. Or I’ll come there, I was wrong. I was so beyond wrong and to be honest, I’ve spent the entire last month knowing that. We were so happy, you know? I was thinking about rings and starting this whole life with you and I just lost myself, I started doubting us when it got serious because I was insecure, I was afraid you’d wake up one day and realize you don’t want me or this life. And I was wrong. I was wrong to hurt you, I was wrong to not talk to you about how I was feeling and I was wrong to break up with you when really all I want to do is marry you and have kids and, fuck, I just want all of that with you. So come home, let’s try again.”
You curled into Milo, letting the tears fall down your cheeks as you took in the words he spoke. You knew Brock, and you knew he was telling the truth but was he worth risking everything for again. Could you realistically come back from this knowing that you could be sent packing up and back to Toronto at any time should he change his mind. It was a gamble, and you were never one to place bets when it came to your heart.
“I’ll come to Toronto, I’ll book a flight right now, just to see you, just to try to show you that I want to make this up to you. I love you, let me show you that again.” Brock begged.
“You’ll come to Toronto?” You squeaked, biting your lip in the darkness.
“I already looked at flights, I can be there by 10.” He said. You let out a sob at his words, glancing at the clock and counting down how many hours that would be until you would face him.
“I can’t lose you again. If we do this, I can’t.. Brock, I really can’t.” You whispered.
You opened the door to him standing there, a bag on his shoulders, and his hands nervously tucked in his pockets. You passed over his hair that was covered in a dark beanie, his eyes tired and lacking the brightness you once always saw in him, his beard longer than he usually kept it. Brock looked like a reflection of you, a broken person who was wandering around trying to piece back together their own heart. You stepped out onto the porch, not caring that it was freezing cold and the snow was heavy. You didn’t care that you were just in leggings and an old sweatshirt of Brock’s you didn’t want to admit that you had taken from him. You reached out for him, burying yourself into his chest and letting the tears fall as you held each other for the first time in over a month. His hand ran through your hair as he pressed a light kiss to the top of your head.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He spoke, tilting your chin up so that his eyes could look into yours.
“I missed you, and I love you, and please just-” Brock cut you off, pressing his lips against yours in a tender kiss. You felt yourself melt into him, the familiarity rushing back to you as he pulled you closer and deepened the kiss. You knew that the kiss couldn’t fix everything, that him coming to Toronto and back to you didn’t change what happened. But what you did know was that you had someone standing there who wanted you and had made a mistake, and maybe it was the holiday spirit talking, but you wanted to give him a second chance, and it was the only Christmas present that mattered.
You held onto him tightly, tears stinging your cheeks from the cold. You didn’t even notice your mom had opened the front door behind you, instead you pulled apart from Brock when Milo came running up to your feet, jumping all over Brock and whining at him.
“Milo, hi buddy, hi.” He cooed at the dog, squatting down and letting Milo jump all over him. It made you cry even more, realizing how hard the last few weeks without him had been. Brock looked up at you, a deep frown settling on his features because he knew all of your pain had been his fault. He stood up, letting Milo continue to jump on his legs as he grabbed your hands.
“There’s someone else who came with me.” He smiled softly. You furrowed your brow as he tangled his fingers with yours and led you down to where the car he must have rented was parked. You saw Coolie’s face in the window and you squeezed Brock’s hand tighter, your smile growing with each step closer to him you got. Brock opened the door, letting Coolie jump out and run all around you and him and Milo. His excitement coming out in loud whines. You watched as he and Milo started running around your yard together, standing close to Brock.
“It felt wrong without him.” You commented softly. Brock wrapped an arm around you and kissed your temple tenderly, a move that sent waves of calm through your body. You didn’t know what it would take to fix everything, but you had him here and he wanted to try. Maybe it would be rocky, maybe it would be hard, but losing each other even for just a few weeks only cemented in how sure you were about a life with him. So, even if it all crumpled later on, he still took an early morning flight to Toronto, and you weren’t going to send him away.
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Atlas: Venus
Previously on Atlas
I was a billion little pieces
’til you pulled me into focus
Astronomy in reverse
It was me who was discovered
In the highest tower, in the back, darkest lab, lit by only the few monitors of the wall of screens, the youngest Luthor sighed before digging her fingertips into the corners of her eyes and digging there, as if hoping to evict the sleepiness physically despite it being etched into the deepest parts of her bones and muscles. She leaned back in her chair and stretched her body only to find the cup of coffee that remained lukewarm and barely palatable.
Only the light of her phone getting a notification drew her attention from the disdain she had as she took another swig of the wretched drink.
She ignored that as best she could, hoping to hide away from the part of her life that always seemed to follow, and instead, shifted her gaze to the laptop with the CADMUS logo etched on the top of it. Her chair swiveled as she turned to face it, her fingers steepling in front of her lips as she clenched her jaw and felt the temptation to know lingering beneath the surface of her bones. Her whole body yearned.
But it was Pandora’s box, and Lena knew what waited on the other side, in the darkness, if she were to peak inside the lid.
But if she did open it, she would have answers.
But if she did, she’d hate herself.
But she already hated herself.
But she could hate herself even more, she was certain.
But if she didn’t, who would stop her mother?
Lena sighed again, her shoulders softening and her body giving into the defeat. The only thing that separated her from the sociopaths of her family was having a strict moral line of which she refused to cross. That was it. And it was a thin, thin, thin line. Terrifyingly slim, at the moment.
With a moment of weakness passed slowly, agonizingly slow, Lena pushed at the laptop and stood, craving fresh air and some physical distance from the temptation that nagged at her and tore apart her willpower. In a turn of events, she found herself relating to Eve more and more, and understood how easy it was to bite the apple.
But instead of looking again, Lena looked straight ahead and sought fresh air. She hoped to run into the darkness of the roof in the middle of the night, but as she pushed open the fire escape door, the grey sliver of sunrise began. She squinted against it and inhaled the dew and the stillness of a city waking.
There was a secret on the roof, that Lena never shared with anyone, and that was the pack of cigarettes she kept hidden behind the telephone box, and it was almost habit at this point for her to grab one as she made her way outside, twisting it a few times in her hands before flicking the lighter and disrupting the dark and instead becoming another flash of light in the twinkling city.
With a long first drag, she exhaled smoke into the clouds and leaned against the railing, surveying and seeing nothing, but enjoying the peace that came on top of the world and far removed from it all. It helped to step away from temptation. She had to, sometimes.
The city faded after that, until she was looking at nothing more than the outline of her hand as it held the cigarette. She watched the red end burn down to nothing, as she found a kind of peace in just the feeling of warmth and the dancing of smoke as it joined the sky.
“Shit,” she hissed after letting it burn too low, effectively burning her fingers before dropping the butt toward the city below.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No, it wasn’t--” Lena paused as she kissed her own finger, sucking on the pain of the burn as if it would fix it completely. “Hello, Supergirl.”
“Good evening, Ms. Luthor. Enjoying the fresh air?”
“As much as I can.”
Strong and firm, Supergirl stood there, allowing herself to land on the roof, still keeping herself at a distance from the CEO. She was close, but not too close, and that was enough. Lena just smiled softly to herself. She didn’t have much else to offer.
“I wanted to thank you for your help the other day. I needed a better perspective, and you were able to--”
“It was nothing,” Lena shook her head. “Please.”
“I don’t think we have to be on opposite sides anymore.”
“Were we ever?”
“I don’t know, maybe,” Sueprgirl offered weakly as she scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “I hoped not.”
Lena stared at her features, studying them, printing them into her memory so she could try to figure her out, as if that were an option. Sometimes, Lena was certain she’d be able to see the strong jaw anywhere and know it. She saw slivers of Supergirl everywhere. She saw her eyes on the street, she saw her lips at the restaurant across from her condo. She saw her hair in the park. But never at one time, and never all together, never in the perfect package that stood beside her presently.
“I trust you completely,” Supergirl finally offered.
It was becoming almost common, almost normal for them, Lena realized as she looked at the hero’s eyes. She was used to parts of her now, the parts that she didn’t see on TB, or in front of other people. For the first time, she wondered if their nightly rendezvous were completely accidental, or more ushered along by homemade chance.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
There came the scoff, the chuckle, the shucks and shake of a head as Supergirl took a deep breath and relaxed despite Lena’s latest proclamation. It was more honest than she wanted to be with the stranger who wasn’t nearly strange enough to be different.
“I’d like to think we knew each other better than that,” Supergirl chided, childish and taunting.
They stood closer than before, a feat accomplished over weeks and months and a grueling pace of millimeters.
“I don’t even know your name.”
It seemed to take her off guard, but Supergirl recovered swiftly, turning her gaze on Lena with something the CEO wasn’t entirely sure of experiencing before from the hero. Maybe she was debating the trust, realizing she really couldn’t do it. Lena shook her head and pushed herself up from leaning against the railing.
“Have a good night, Supergirl,” she offered
Lena made it three steps before she felt a gentle hand grab her wrist. She felt her heart flutter and furrowed at the feeling, though she refused to turn around.
“Kara.”
It was quiet, it was the truth, and Lena held her breath until Supergirl dropped her hand.
“Kara,” Lena repeated.
“Have a good night, Lena.”
In a breeze, she was gone again, and Lena was left with a name and perhaps a secret she was certain not many were entrusted to keep.
“Kara,” she repeated again, testing it out. There were just more questions left to be answered now, because now Supergirl was a person, with a name, and maybe that was what her brother was missing all along. Maybe that was enough to keep someone on the side of good-- to be known, and yet unknown. To act magnanimously.
XXXXXXXXXX
It was incredibly stupid, but Kara didn’t care. For the first time in her life, she really didn’t care that she’d taken a risk. It should have been something she considered, but she hadn’t. It just popped out.
She didn’t tell her sister. That would have been suicide. She didn’t even want to admit it to herself, but she thought about it the entire flight home. She thought about how reckless and how silly it had been, and how great of a risk she’d put herself and her family in.
But it didn’t matter.
There was just something about the way Lena looked, how sad she was sometimes, and how desperate she seemed to be to do good and feeling painfully inadequate. There was a savior part of Kara that just couldn’t shake it. There was also a part of her that couldn’t stand to see Lena not happy, and chasing the feeling of her laugh, as distant as it was. Kara wasn’t sure why that existed, that need to make hear that laugh or see that smile.
Kara sighed as she flopped onto her bed. Suddenly she was someone who was worried about a pretty girl and how to make her smile.
XXXXXXXXXX
It took about three days for Lena to discover Kara, and not Supergirl. She didn’t want to believe it, and yet, there was the same jaw and smile.
“I didn’t expect to run into the likes of you here.”
Lena held her breath because she knew the voice before she turned around in the barstool. She didn’t breathe. She twirled the ice around in her cup and pursed her lips before turning back into the woman on the balcony and not the sad sack washing away some misery at the first bar she came across after her most recent meeting.
“No I, you.”
“Are you going to turn around?”
“I don’t think I will,” Lena said as she finally took another sip of her drink. “I don’t know why, but I can’t.”
She was still and quiet in the middle of the bar. But Lena could still feel her presence, and she understood Lot’s wife a little, suddenly. That was the thought she had in her head, from all those years ago in private school chapel. It would change everything.
“Could I join you, Lena?”
That was the question.
When Lena tilted her head slightly she saw familiar hands rooted on the back of the stool back. She saw wrists. She saw the tiny scar near her palm that intrigued her infinitely. But she didn’t move to acknowledge the girl behind her, just to order them both drinks. Politely, ever with her manners and decorum, the hero waited patiently while Lena watched the drinks poured and only nodded after taking another drink.
“If I can buy you a drink, you may join me.”
Before it could be rescinded, a body slid into the seat, stretching her torso to squeeze close to Lena, to crawl in as quickly as possible. Lena inhaled a distinctly Supergirl smell and felt her heartbeat thumping belligerent in her chest. Slowly, she followed the wrist to an elbow, and a loosely rolled sleeve hanging there. From there she moved to shoulder, to jaw, to lips pressed against glass, to those eyes.
And he stared, unmoving, trying her hardest to comprehend it all.
Kara put down her drink after making a bit of a face and adjusted her glasses. She offered a small, faint smile.
“You look different at ground level.”
“So do you,” Kara chuckled. “Is that all I get?”
“I have a million questions, but I honestly don’t know where to start.”
“I trust you.”
“That might answer a third of them.”
Kara shook her head and adjusted slightly.
“I wanted to know the real you. To do that, I had to give you the real me.”
The answer made Lena fidget as she adjusted slightly, recrossing her legs. She blushed slightly to see Kara’s eyes move to the hem of her skirt and follow her thighs.
“But why?”
“Because I trust you,” Kara repeated adamantly. “And I think you might want to get to know the real me, too.”
“I will admit only to a minute fascination.”
“I can work with minute.”
“Infinitesimal,” Lena corrected.
“I’ve done more with less.”
Despite it all, Lena smiled to herself. She felt Kara shift closer and she suddenly found herself adjusting again and her cheeks bursting pink. She didn’t know that Kara could tell her heart was racing.
“I’m happy to run into you, for what it’s worth.”
“What brings you here?”
“Oh, I was here with some friends. It’s our normal bar. I live close by.”
“Hadn’t really considered you living anywhere.”
Kara chuckled and Lena found herself searching every inch of Kara’s face. She saw the cut of her jaw when she tilted her head back. She saw the arch of her eyebrow and the slope of her cheeks.
“Not as good of a view as your place, but I don’t mind. It’s home.”
There was something about the way her biceps looked in the old flannel that hung from a shoulder, hidden but still there. And the shading near her clavicle and the tenderness of her hands. She seemed more comfortable in he brown skin, less stoic and less rigid.
“I wouldn’t want to interrupt your time with friends,” Lena sighed, looking over Kara’s shoulder, wondering who she might have been there with, wondering if they knew, too.
“You’re not.”
“Are you certain--”
“Let’s get out of here,” Kara decided as she downed the rest of her glass. “I think you might need something to soak up your bad day.”
“Ok.”
XXXXXXXXXX
The way she liked ketchup on her fries, and how precise she was in opening every packet and squirting them into a big puddle. And there was the way she took a giant bit of her burger, careful to catch the tomato that tried to escape, carefully tucking it back in with the lettuce. Her face when she chewed and savored, relieved for all of the goodness that came with the greasy food.
Kara stared unabashedly.
She smiled faintly and ate another fry, careful to look away before Lena could accuse her of staring.
“I have a nutritionist, you know,” Lena proudly announced. “And a private trainer.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“You can’t tell?” she raised her eyebrows, challenging Kara, and earning a slight blush.
“I mean… you’re certainly…. Fit. It’s very, um, yeah-- noticeable-- that you, uh take care…” Kara shoved another fry in her mouth. She accidentally looked at Lena’s chest and blanched before burning alive.
“I’ve eaten at the best restaurants all over the world, and I have to say. This might be the best bite I’ve ever had.”
“That’s the whiskey talking,” Kara tried.
Lena did this thing, she was learning, where when confronted with a statement she didn’t particularly agree with, she waved it off. Kara liked the way her hair tucked behind her ear.
“Do you honestly believe that a few glasses is enough to take away my senses?”
“I wouldn’t imagine thinking anything like that. You’re far too impressive for such things.”
Kara smiled and took a sip of her drink as Lena took another large bite from her burger. There was something freeing in seeing Lena like this-- not drunk, not absent, but perhaps just uninhibited. It was late, suddenly, but they kept to their booth, enjoying their late night dinner. Kara didn’t even mind when Lena took one of her onion rings.
Even when their plates were taken and their conversation continued with the refills, Kara couldn’t stop staring. She didn’t really want to. She pulled her knee up and leaned against the wall of the diner while Lena explained the absolutely boring and unproductive meeting that took up her entire afternoon. Kara was hooked.
It was easy for Lena to switch the conversation to Kara because Kara liked the furrow Lena had when she asked questions, and she liked being honest, finally.
“What about this?” Lena murmured, leaning forward and turning over Kara’s palm. She traced the faint scar on her palm. “I thought you were impenetrable.”
Kara felt the hair on the back of her neck raise slightly. She gulped.
“Oh.. um, this was from when I was a kid.”
“Before you got here?”
“Yeah, I fell. I used to fall a lot. Clumsy kid and all. It was a trip to the mountains with my parents, and uh, we,” Kara furrowed and for the first time, looked away. “I just tripped, braced myself, got a pretty deep cut.”
Lena nodded and furrowed a little more as well, just as Kara shook the thoughts away and looked back toward her. Fingertips stopped gliding against her skin, and by the time she looked down at her expose palm and back up, Lena Luthor stood from her side of the booth.
“What happened?”
“You live around here, don’t you?”
“I-- yes?”
They made it outside of the diner and evening had put most of the city back to sleep for the night. The traffic was non-existent and those left guzzling burnt coffee were the nightwalkers, the ones who existed only on this schedule.
“It’s down this way,” Kara nodded her head as she shoved her hands in her pockets.
They went about three steps before Lena tugged Kara against the alleyway behind the dinner, gripped her shirt tightly in her fists, and kissed her.
“Oh,” Kara whispered, unable to open her eyes. It was rough at first until they caught their breath, and then there was a gentleness, a rush of words against her lips.
“Sorry--”
“No,” she shook her head.
When she opened her eyes, Kara just saw Lena Luthor staring back at her, worried she’d messed it up entirely. She wretched her hands from her pockets and smiled as she cupped Lena’s cheeks before leaning forward and kissing her back.
“Who is kissing me right now?” Lena whispered when she woke from the stupor. Her hands loosened slightly but still held there.
“Me.”
“Which is the real you?”
“This one. Right here. Right now.”
Kara watched as Lena flexed her jaw, clenching it and thinking it through. Their faces were so close they couldn’t see much else other than the other. Lena nodded.
Next
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@glassartpeasants I blame you for this.
Heartless, demon, cruel, cold, murder...
Those were honestly the kindest words you ever heard of him... yet your heart spoke the exact opposite.
The man could even commit arson right on your front and you couldn't just be... mad at him. Your thoughts about Chisaki never changed despite the attrocities he said and did on all those past few months.
Yet something truly did angered you. How he couldn't give a fuck about you.
After the boss entered on a coma for unknown reasons, Chisaki wasn't the same. Heck, now he demanded to be called by the name of his quirk, Overhaul. Is that or being a pool of blood and mutilated limbs on the ground.
Yet... you felt hope. You really felt hope that this man could change. Be the young man that you met and fell for. Just... notice something.
Notice your pain like he used to... or even show a tad bit of... care. That's all you wanted. Kai would always know when you were sad, on his own way try to comfort you. But now? He didn't even cared...
One tear of yours brushed past the cracks of your cheeks as you winced at only touching it... sighing a bit, you grabbed your mask and put it on. Ready to start the day.
Walking past the halls you saw the man himself standing on his foot. Your face brighten up a bit as you walked towards him.
"Ka-" you stopped immediately when he gaved you a harsh glare "Sorry... Overhaul. Good morning Overhaul." You mumbled.
He only scoffed, walking away from you and simply lifting his hand.
"I dont have time for this. Get to your work and don't bother me."
Each sentence like this one was like a stab on your chest... why would he answer a good morning of yours like that?
"A-Actually.." you tried to muster as he stopped with an annoyed sigh "Can we.. please talk?"
He narrowed his golden eyes at you, looking as if he had been staring at something hideous and that just fucking spitted on his face.
"Make it quick." He grunted, one of his hands resting on his hips as the other remained on one of his pockets.
"I-Is kinda silly ..." you poked your fingers together "I-I mean, we've know each other for more than years already and-"
"Spit it out." He hissed and your smiled dropped.
"... is just that... I felt like I needed to say it." You lifted up your head and stared at him without fear "I.. like you.. more than anything."
"... fine." He simply said like he was expecting something else as your body started to tremble.
".. fine? Is that.." you gulped the thick air on your throat "Is that all you have to say at someone who is confessing feelings for you?"
"Tch." He rolled his eyes before giving his back to you, only giving a side glance "That wasn't a surprise for me. You're like one of those loyal dogs. No matter how much they are kicked they come back crawling towards their owners."
You widened your eyes as you felt the crack on your cheek deepen.
"What?" You let out a gasp of disbelief as he blinked.
"For your information." He narrowed his golden orb at you harder "I dont like to repeat myself. You're just a toy and a obedient scum that is meant to follow my orders. Is only a matter of a lackey, in that case you, and the master." He started to walk as you stood dumbfounded.
Your hands formed into fists as your jaw clenched, finally a feeling you never thought you could feel towards this man appeared. Anger.
Without thinking you grabbed a vase and threw hard enough to almost hit his head, missing by a few inches as he widened his eyes at it.
He looked at the broken vase on the floor in shock before looking towards you, breathing in and out as you felt your skin cracking even more.
"If all I am to you is a loyal pet..." you breathed out, taking your mask off and eventually showing the cracks on your skin to him and the curious precepts coming to see the scene. "THEN YOU CAN TAKE THIS!" you threw the mask towards him that kicked on the floor and almost landed on his feet.
"You have some nerve now.." he growled, taking off his glove as a threat.
"DONT COME TO THIS SHIT TOWARDS ME NOW CHISAKI!" you shouted with a finger pointing at him as he felt his shoulders tense.
Never on your life with him you ever called him by his once surname.
"I was really the only one on this fucking house to truly respect you! Not by fear as almost everyone on here, but because I really am so stupid to fall in love with a bastard, selfish and arrogant man like yourself!" You walked towards him to be standing chest to chest with him as finger was aimed at his face.
"Quiet down." He growled before finally noticing the many cracks and pieces of your skin falling on the ground as you shouted "(Y/n) what-"
"SHUT THE HELL UP!" You shouted so loudly that even Rappa winced at the anger of your voice... every precept seing the scene as you breathed in and out "If you want to kill me do it now... would be a favor for yourself wouldn't it?" You glared at him as he blinked, still in shock at your actions.
"Not a word?" You commented as you winced at the cracks going to your neck already "For these past few years I wanted to see you happy, succeed... I fucking loved you..." you whispered in pain, dropping your head a bit, taking out a gift Chisaki had given to you a few years ago, a black and white bracelet you never once took off every since now.
".. I was stupid." You lift up your head with a frown and let the bracelet fall into the floor as you gave your back to him and almost ran out of the house.
He was in state of shock before he narrowed his eyes at the subbordinates and commanded them to get back to work... just when all of them left he crouched down to pick both your mask and the bracelet.
"... she will be back. It was just a tantrum." He sighed, taking the two of your once possesions to hsi office "But.. what on hell was that thing on her face?"
.
.
.
Five months... five months flew by since you exited the Shie Hassaikai for good. Going into the doctors to just search for a damn cure... but it was impossible.
"I'm sorry my dear, there is nothing we can do if..." your doctor of years tries to speak through the pain as you stood in the chair, your arms with cracks as part of your cheek was gone.
"I understand." You said, hollow as you always had been after leaving that house. "Thank you for your time... I will see you on the other side then." You managed a smile to the old man as he could only drop his head in shame when you left his office.
People you brushed through the streets looked at you with pity... and you hated.
You evicted the Shie Hassaikai like the plague himself. And one time you could feel Chrono following you.. it was the last straw when he followed you at the appartment you were living on the subborns.
"Go away Kurono." You muttered, feeling him watching you get your keys and open the door, and before you could close the door you groaned at sieng the black boot on the door, preventing you to close it.
"Can we at least talk? I'm not him." He said while taking off his mask, a wince escaping his lips as soon as he saw you on the state you were "What the-"
"Shattered heart disease... dont have a cure." You mumbled, eyes stuck on the floor as a piece of your ear cracked and fell.
"Holy fuck..." the man sighed shakily "Listen, maybe if you come back to the Hassaikai Overhaul can-"
"No." You grabbed the handle and forced the door "It was because of him I am on this state. And I know you came here by his others, and let me say one thing" let me die in peace." You slammed the door shut as Chrono groaned.
"Both of you are just so thick skull it gets on my nerves!" He kicked the door as you rolled your eyes, locking and going to the bed.
The man glared at the door before sighing, looking at his cellphone ringing and leaving the place.
"Forget it man. (Y/n) doesn't wanna see you or the Shie Hassaikai even if we offered her tons of gold."
"... fine. You did what I order so there is nothing that we cant do."
"Be honest Kai.. you do have feelings for her, for a long time." He ignored the disgusted "tch" on the other end of the call "And honestly? If I were on your shoes I would be almost killing myself to fix things." He spoke with a frown.
".. what are you talking about Chrono?"
"Well.." he looked over his shoulder at your apartment door "Ever heard of the Shattered heart disease..?"
"... you're joking with me, right?"
.
.
.
You clenched the side of your waist with a grunt as your other shattered arm support yourself on one of the walls of the apartment.
"No... please..." you whimpered as you gasped at part of your leg shattering as you felt on the ground, more cracks forming in your whole body as you stared in horror at your hand.
"Dammit..." you hissed before hearing a knock on your door.
"Open (Y/n)." You furrowed your eyebrows and gritted your teeth... the guy wouldn't leave you alone even on the freacking hour of your death..?
"Leave..." you sobbed, tears started to shed and unit with the many cracks on the floor where you were standing as you heard Chisaki overhauling the door.
It hurted tu see him... you still had feelings for the man whose caused you this... you didn't know whether or not if you wanted him to see you or not.
"I swear even when-" he stopped midsentence as soon as he saw the scene in front of him.
You could only lift your gaze up with a pained yet broken hollow look as he almost stuttered your name.
"Get out.." your lips cracked, and at this rate you knew you couldn't even move anymore or else it's you meeting death right away.
For the first time on his life his body seemed to move on his own as he kneeled with one knee on the ground beside you as he stared with wide eyes and shaky hands at the pieces of you on the ground.
"For crying out loud.." he muttered in horror as he brushed a hand on his hair before discarding hsi remaining glove in hopes he could put you back.
For the first time he saw you trying to slap his hand away, and your hand broke out of your wrist, shattering in pieces on the ground.
"(Y/n)!" He shouted in a mix of anger and desperation as he saw your face, one that would torment him at nights for the rest of his life surely.
"Don't.. touc..." you breathed out your last word as he widened his amber eyes in horror at seing you cracking even more "me..."
After this last word you saw black and the last thing you heard was Chisaki shouting.
Your body broke. Shattered in pieces right in front of him.
.
.
.
You breathed in harshly. Your lungs burned at the sensation of feeling air again inside them as you coughed...
Blinking, your vision focused a bit to see you were on your bedroom, everything seemed on order and even a tad bit cleaner than it was usually.
Groaning, you standing on your elbows and saw the bandages on your arms as you untangled them to see your skin back to normal... not even a single crack.
"What..?" You breathed out, standing in sitting with a groan as you looked at your surroundings.
You had the strenght again to move your legs and gasped at seing that the leg you saw shattering was still intact, not even a single scar or little crack on it. Standing up you like a newborn, you took a hesitant step only to smile in astonishment that you havent heard the sound of skin or bones cracking.
Walking towards the bathroom, you giggled in surprise and utter relief at sieng your face back to normal before you flinched at hearing something breaking.
"FUCK!" a thundering voice echoed in your apartment that made you flinch. Aa voice you knew it way too well to just forget it. You poked a bit if your head out of the bathroom and tip toes carefully towards the living room to see Chisaki, jacket discarded as well as his mask, back arched on the kitchen counter as he talked with someone on the phone with a gloved hand clenching one side if his head.
"I put all the pieces together already and it has been almost a month." He growled as you stepped inside the living room...
Different from your bedroom, this one was a disaster, papers tossed aside at everywhere, your own phone shattered in pieces near a wall and the couch was with a pillow and a blanket...
Was he..?
"Yes her skin healed but she doesn't appear to be breathing..." you looked at the man, his forearms were filled with hives and you could see by the reflection from the kitchen counter the huge eyebags that were underneath his eyes...
He looked so broken and... terrible.
".. just wait and see huh?" His voice spoke in venom as the hand gripping on his head lunched the counter "WHERE DID YOU ENROLL YOUR PIECE OF GARBAGE ?! NEXT TIME I WILL FUCKING CALL A LAB RAT IF I WANT A DECENT HELP!" and with that he overhauled the cellphone before literally breaking part of your kicthen counter.
"Dammit..." he whispered, a hand on the counter as he fixed back while the other was covering his face...
"Uh..." you mumbled ".. Chisaki?" He flinched at the name and slowly took his hand out of his face.
Ever so slowly his face turned to see you, his eyes tired and red from sleep deprivation but still just as wide as if he had seen a ghost.
".. (Y/n).." he whispered your name before straighting up his back, god, not even his shirt was folded, part of his button up shirt was unbuttoned leaving part of his chest at shown to you.
You could die happily now.
You both stared at each other for a bit, still in shock as you decided to see for real if your arms were still there and without any mark.
"Uh.. can you.. tell me what happened and what are you-" before you could finish you gasped at him suddenly moving to be mere inches away from you.
"Please tell me this is not another fucking hallucination... " he breathed out as you stood there awkwardly.
"Well, I would like to not be.. I literraly died the last time I remember and-" you stopped breathing and talking just when in one blink of an eye Chisaki kneeled on the ground and cradled your hands in his own as he breathed out shakily "C-Chisaki-"
"My god..." he exhaled as he supported his forehead on your two interviewed hands "Thank God... I thought.. I thought I lost you for real..."
You blinked, frowning while looking away from him.
"Wasn't I just a loyal pet as yourself named it?" You mumbled as he let out one of the most painfull chuckles you ever heard of.
"If you were... was I really going to pass each day picking your pieces together... live on this house because I trusted none to take care of you... ever time I woke up and in very five minutes I checked for your breathing and only lord could describe the amount of relief I had when I saw the cracks on your skin dissapearing... I didn't notice earlier how much I needed you in my life... until I fucked up..." he dropped his head again while getting up.
"... so you.. never leaved after that?"
"Didn't take one single step out of this place... I was never one to pray but god..." he brushed his gloved hand on his messy and greasy hair "I lost count on how many times I begged for whoever is up there to bring you back..."
"... why? I thought.."
"The thing is..." he breathed shakily before locking gazes with you "You only give value to the things you loved after you lose them... I learned that from the hard way..."
#overhaul x reader#chisaki kai x reader#chisaki kai#bnha characters#overhaul#bnha fanfiction#bnha fanfics#zuffer writings#bnha villains x reader
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You
Summary: After Tom breaks the longest relationship he’s ever had, both of them seem to handle the breakup in a completely different way.
Words: 12k
A/N: first part of a serie!
“You” chapter list
January 4th, 2020 - The night
For some reason tonight Tom couldn’t keep his hands still. It was the first time in years were he was actually nervous, he didn’t like that at all.
He has gone down a couple of drinks already, the night was still young, but time was running so slow he was starting to feel this exact moment in his life would life forever, and he was starting to grow anxious as never before.
When he turned his head to the right, the only thing he could see were the blinding lights going all around the room, accompanied by the loud music and gigantic crowd that naturally came with it. If he took a closer look it was easy for him to spot familiar faces, people that were dancing and having fun without him, people he loves but that might be about to start hating him. Because he hasn’t done a single thing and he already feels like a bad person.
Those bright green eyes he knows so well shined directly towards him, and he couldn’t not spot them as they turned to him, that was something that came with having a good eye sight. The face of his girlfriend was smiling to him, waving him to come join her, but he wasn’t in the mood, so he shook his head in denial.
He knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer, he knew her like the palm of his hands, she never gave up so easily.
It was only a matter of seconds - and couple blinks - to have her standing right in front of him, hands on his shoulders and the biggest smile on her face. She was happy tonight, he felt bad.
“There you are!” she yelled, even though he could perfectly hear her, but the euphoria was kicking her hard. “Why are you sitting down?! This is a party” she fake frowned, as she took a look at him up and down.
He did what he does best, act natural and mask shit out. After all, that’s all he could possibly do to avoid tension.
“It’s called a small break, genius” he rolled his eyes, letting out a sarcastic tone that came out playful.
“Right, sorry” she said, going in to take a sit right beside him.
Feeling her arms go around his waist made him even more nervous. When he turned his head to the side, her lips crashed messily into his, greeting him peck, and letting him know she was indeed having a very fun night, but not only that, she was silently telling him she cared and she hoped he was having a good night too.
I’m a bad person.
That thought wouldn’t stop going around his head as time went by, and as he opened his eyes and saw hers, she moved over and went to take the last sip of his drink, he felt even worse. She was unusually happy, and he was about to ruin it from all sudden.
Should he give some sort of hint before exploding the bomb?
Should he leave it out for another occasion?
Would it be better is he said it now?
None, none of those answers seemed like a good option. He was second guessing himself and that was even worse. It was going to be a disaster and there was no way to evict that.
Scratch that, I’m a terrible person.
A couple of big hands landed on his shoulders from all sudden, making him jump in place and sending shivers down his spine. She got scared too at the sudden move, but she smiled right after, once she saw the face behind the small prank, and the one that gave Tom the scare of his life.
“Baby!” Tuwaine’s voice busted in his ears out of the blue, and almost knock him out of his seat.
“Shit!” He exclaimed, doing his best to not fall over “Fuck! Don’t do that, shitface”
As he turned, he appreciated the face of one of his best mates and his girlfriend right beside him, both of them looking just as euphoric as his own girlfriend, and acting concerned for his lack of excitement tonight, which was good for a season like this. No work, free time, a night to remember… it was weird for Tom to be so serious, it was only on him to make it look as natural as it could be.
“Why are you sitting down?” Tuwaine asked.
“That is exactly what I said” (Y/n) argued, as he watched the pair taking a seat right in front of them.
“I don’t feel like dancing tonight, I enjoy watching you trying to get some moves right” Tom excused, directing an awkward grin to his best friend.
“I do a good job, compared to you, you just do alright” Tuwained mocked.
Allison, his girlfriend, laughed “Good one” she giggled, pinching his cheek and grabbing the drink she has been sipping from for the last half an hour.
They’ve been at this bar for a while already, Tom has lost count of how long it has been since they arrived, but for all he knows, he has done through a couple of drinks already, and he would keep going, but he can’t. He needs a clear mind tonight and he couldn't mess that up.
“Another round, gentlemen? Tequila, (Y/n)?” Allison offered, raising a hand for the waiter to come.
“I wouldn’t mind that” (Y/n) shrugged, showing a smile.
“I’ll have one more too” Tuwaine agreed, nodding to his girl as he leaned on the table.
He had to admit he was taking this situation better than he expected. He held his girl’s hand, kissed her on the cheek, caught up on a previous conversation with his best friend, took the liberty to take another beer, and before he knew it, the situation was looking more normal in his eyes.
It was the first time in months he’s been in a bar in London, he has been out for work and all over the world for so long, having some time to stay home made him feel calmed and better. After staying at his apartment, reflecting on life and hardly going out for almost a full week, it was the first time in a very long time he had a night out with his close ones and he was grateful for it.
… but still he was extremely sorry for this night to be the night.
With his head off elsewhere, he kept his girl close as he nodded at the words of his best friend, sipped on his beer and heard (Y/n) ask questions to keep the conversation alive. He didn’t comment or participated, he just listened, he didn’t want to take part in the mix and say anything stupid, he just needed to be present and act natural.
It was difficult to remain fairly sober when he had to face something like this, it was his third drink already, and without intending it, he was going through it faster than usual, maybe it was because he was barely speaking, but as the conversation went on, the bottle became empty as time passed, and he didn’t like that. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to gain himself an assisted ride home and slide words of his mouth that weren’t intended, he needed to get ahold of himself, unless he wanted to start creating wrong opinions from his closest friends.
The light shifted in the room, the DJ became inspired, and in the blink of an eye everyone in the crowd started cheering with excitement. It wasn’t weird at all, he knew why, those were 90’s songs, everyone loves those. The night was starting to come alive with every second and he could see his friends vibing with it, he could see it in how their faces changed and the mood lit up even more. For a second he felt jealous, very jealous. They were having a genuinely good time, and here he was, making a mess of his own mind by worrying about something that has been hammering him for weeks.
He couldn’t wait to get it out of his head. He couldn’t wait to feel himself again.
“Oof I love that song, that’s it” Allison cheered, grabbing (Y/n)‘s sleeve and jumping with excitement. “Bye, boys”
As usual, she just laughed at her friend’s reaction and jumped off her seat at that weird queue, looked back at Tom suggestively and nodded towards the dance floor.
He shifted uncomfortably.
“Go dance, we’ll stay here” Tom assured both of the girls, silently telling Tuwaine to make him company.
Surprisingly none of them fought him, like he was expecting them to. Allison just grabbed (Y/n)’s hand and took off to the dance floor, because she was already too drunk and she couldn’t wait, her body was in need of a bit of dancing. (Y/n) looked back on his direction, giving him an apologetic smile that he waved off without even thinking about it, because there was nothing to apologize for, she was always apologizing for everything.
She deserved to have a bit of fun alone with her friend. He knew she stressed a lot and needed a break, it was a good idea to just let her be, sing and dance until she could forget about whatever she was stressing about this time.
She is a hard working girl, that is why he loves her so much.
“You’re a bit off mate” Tuwaine mumbled to him. Moving on his seat to be closer.
His eyebrows raised, he almost choked with his beer, but he groaned it off, he didn’t want to come off as nervous, although it looked like he was failing. What was happening to him tonight, he didn’t know, but whatever he knew about acting was wearing off, because he was failing at it, and now all he could do was face reality.
“Really?” He asked, trying to seem surprised, but not too much.
“Yeah” Tuwaine said, like it was obvious. “you alright?” He asked, genuinely concerned, slowly turning serious.
Tom hesitated for a second. He didn’t wish to engage anyone into anything, this was something he has been thinking about and it was more of a personal fight, he didn’t want other people to get involved. However, Tuwaine has been his right hand for such a long time, he understood why it worried him to see him like this, because if it was his case, he would feel like that too. He couldn’t give him the benefit of the doubt, that would be mean, he trusted him, so he guessed it would be better to tell someone than to do this and have no one know about this beforehand. It would be like walking on it alone… right?.
“Yeah! Always” he assured, nervously fidgeting with the bottle in his hands.
He thought about it for a second, doubted himself and then… he just gave up.
“Actually, I don’t know” he let out, looking directly at him. “Can I tell you secret?” he mumbled.
Tuwaine shot him a weird look, raised his eyebrows and asked “Right here?” as he looked around the room and moved closer to his friend so he could hear him right.
“Yes” Tom nodded “Just act natural, it doesn’t have to be a big deal” he warned, looking to his from and forcing a small grin in direction of the two girls dancing not too far from them, who would turn and look at them every once in a while. He didn’t want them to notice the tension that started to build up.
“Okay” Tuwaine agreed, looking up front and mumbling “Whats up?”
Once again, he felt weird, but he needed to be an adult and be able to say this as it was, not with bad intentions, but still being real about what his thoughts were. It was his friend after all, he trusted him, nothing bad could come out from this… yet.
“I’ve been thinking about... stuff, a lot, lots of things going around and after having some serious reflections about this, I think... I don’t know” he started, not really finding the right words to introduce the situation, because there were no right words to say this. It was just complicated. “I think (Y/n) and I...” he tried to explain, but he really couldn’t.
He motioned with his fingers what he tried to say, finding that an easier way to explain the situation than to describe it with words. With both of his index fingers he touched them together and then moved them apart, as simple as that, there was no more to communicate. Tuwaine seemed to piece everything together way too quickly, and Tom was nervous what his reaction could be.
“Really?” he whispered in a very surprised toned, clearly being stunned by that new.
Tom nodded shyly. “Yes” he mumbled back.
Tuwaine blinked, clearly being confused and surprised by all this, like Tom expected.
He was aware that dropping this bomb would be anything but easy, and that there would always be a reaction from any of the parts. First of all, because he has been with the same girl for already four years, they love each other, they live together… it was a hard decision, but the hardest thing of it all, was that this was something that would have consequences in more than one aspect and they all knew that very well, it would be a chaos, he was absolutely terrified of it.
“Wow” Tuwaine said, letting out a big sigh as he asked “Is everything alright with you two?”
Tom pressed his lips together, now really getting nervous “It’s fine, it’s okay, it’s just...” he tried to explain. “Listen I’m going to sound like a real asshole right now but it is really the whole truth” he warned, because now it really could get worse from here. “I think I want to be with other people” he said shyly, looking for approval in his friend’s eyes as he said his truth.
Tuwaine looked anything but happy at that response, he looked deep into Tom’s eyes, took a second and nodded his way, giving him the chance to explain himself once.
“Go on” he said harshly, he jaw showing some tension that made him even more uncomfortable.
Tom nodded back, and prepared himself to make this one short and sweet.
“See, I’m only 23 and she is just 21, we’ve been on this relationship for around four years and I have had a good time but I just thought about it and I am not ready for commitment, mate, I am young, I need to explore a bit more and see other girls other than her, live new experiences, you know what I’m saying?” He asked, turning to look at him. “I love her, I really do, but really... I think I’m ready to move on and explore” he shrugged “it really had nothing to do with her, I’m just thinking, hey, I’m still young enough to see a little more aside from the first girl I ever started a real thing with, it’s not like we’re married, maybe it’s time both of us meet new people” he explained, trying to make it sound somehow better, but it was just the whole truth.
Tuwaine looked unsure and certainly surprised by his friends speech. Tom understood that Tuwaine was probably not expecting something like this to come up on a night like this, but the truth is that there was never going to be a right moment, and by this time there was a certain urge for Tom to let it out. He has been rounding this thought for a while, it wasn’t just something that popped out in his mind. It might be surprising, but it wasn’t random.
“I don’t know, are you sure about this?” Tuwaine doubted “I mean, look at her” he said, turning to look back at the girls “She looks very happy now that you’re here, and I mean, she is pretty, smart, she loves having you around, she helps you a lot, are you sure you want this?” He asked Tom, doing his best to make him reconsider his decision.
With this, Tom knew his friend was not agreeing with his argument. But it was natural, he was her friend too, and they were good friends. None of them would want to see her sad, but this is how things rolled now. He took a decision and he would stand by it.
“Yeah, I mean...” he mumbled, looking at her for a second “I don’t want her to just vanish out of my life, I figured we could always be friends and whatnot” he sighed, shaking his head at the thought of her just… going away.
Tom turned his head towards his friend. He was never seen him with such marked frown but still calmed look on his face, clearly trying to remain normal. He wasn’t feeling comfortable and Tom was already getting nervous, this is exactly what he wanted to evict.
“Don’t look at me like that” Tom begged in a mumble “Tuwaine, don’t judge me, please”
“I don’t! I don’t judge you, I swear” Tuwaine said, snapping out of it and holding up both of his hands “Hey, Listen, I think you’re making a mistake, alright? but if you thought about it and you’re sure, then go for it” he shrugged, trying to show some respect to him “But be careful, okay? That’s all I can say, if that’s what will make you happy, I support you, you know that” he assured him, nodding his way and trying to crack a smile.
Tom knew that was not the most honest answer from his part, that hurt, but he bought it. There really was not a better outcome for this moment. He knew no one was going to tell him it was the right decision, but he knew what he was about to do, even when it didn’t seem like so, he has thought this through.
“Thanks mate” He thanked him, leaning in to pat on his shoulder.
As time passed he grew more nervous, now that he has revealed his big secret to someone, not only that, now that he has revealed it and also was alone with the only person who knew his secret, he was feeling even worse than before. Good thing of having someone know of his secret was that he was passing onto him very good advice. He would tell him what she should say and what not to say, what he would do, his perspective, some past experiences that might help him… if anything, he was starting to feel this moment was starting to become a bonding moment for him and Tuwaine, sure it was not the best situation, but sharing this kind of information with him somehow felt special.
Tuwaine would speak a lot, and so did he, trying to explain a little bit how he was come to this decision while he could, as well as giving Tuwaine the chance (and privilege) of commenting on his master plan, that might as well go wrong, but it could be less bad if he fixed some aspects of it with the help of his friend.
Their conversation seemed cut off when suddenly the girls disappeared in the crowd of people, and barely making themselves noticeable, appeared behind them trying to make it seem like a surprised, and once again completing the group that just a couple of minutes ago was incomplete.
(Y/n) slid her arms around Tom, let him hold her hands as they laid on his chest and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. Typical move of her, she loved to have him like this, and he was not mad at it, at all. He felt warm, safe, home…
Focus, Tom, God dammit.
“Are we ready to go?” He asked, as he turned his head and let her leave a small peck on his lips.
A small frown appeared in her forehead, as she walked around him to face him directly and hugged his waist to keep him close. He could see she was missing having the opportunity to have him this close, after months apart, she was missing him a lot and it was showing. On his behalf, It was wrecking him from the inside out, but he was an actor and right now he needed to mask this one.
“What? You want to go already?!” AIlison exclaimed, sounding completely outraged by his question.
He shrugged, hugged his girl close and left a small kiss on her forehead. He needed an excuse to get out of here, this was the best chance he could find.
“Are you tired, bubs?” (Y/n) asked softly, looking up at him.
“A little bit, I’m going to lie” he nervously laughed, shrugging a little “Jet lag is a real bitch” he said, but he didn’t mean that.
Jet lagged has already passed. He has recovered his usual schedule for a couple of days now, he was fine. It was just the perfect excuse to get him out, he knew no one would fight him while playing this card.
“That’s true” (Y/n) agreed, leaving a kiss on his cheek and grabbing her purse on the table.
He made sure to turn back at Tuwaine with a suggesting look, so he understood it was time and he needed him and his girlfriend to vanish elsewhere. Right now he just needed to be alone with his girl and make every possible thing in his hand to not fuck anything up.
“We can go then too, I’ll call an Uber” Tuwaine announced, finishing his drink in one sitting, and getting up from his seat. Queue for everyone to do the same.
“Already? c��mon” Allison whined, showing a pout as she followed her boyfriend’s moves.
“Don’t worry babe, I have an idea” Tuwaine mumbles to her, trying to make this situation look just a bit better.
Making their way out of the bar was difficult, it was crowded, however, it is even more difficult to make it out of there when there are people around that knew Tom’s face, called his name, touched his shoulders and even stepped in the way to just wave his wave. Sometimes it could become very overwhelming. One way or another, and one step at a time, they made their way out of the place and into the cold and shiny streets of London at night.
Tonight was not the most busy night for London’s bar, in fact, for them it was the perfect night to go out for a drink, but it was still crowded enough to build up a proper party. There were a lot of people around, however, there were not enough, so they could easily be able to step out in the street without getting mobbed with people recognizing him and only occasionally see a couple people around that would either call his name or wave at him, those were the best kind of nights, they were the best because he could chill and fool around with his friends without having too much eyes on him. Somehow it made him feel like he was just another guy going out in London.
They stepped into the streets of the city, looking for their usual spot to call a taxi. Him having (Y/n)’s hand in his and guiding her through the small crowd in front of the bar and making sure she was with him at all times. It has just rained, he knew that, it was noticeable on how blingy everything looked now and it didn’t before, also on how this new fresh air ran through the air, he was not expecting the weather to change like this so suddenly.
He looked back at his girlfriend, just to make sure she was not feeling the same as him or even worst, checking if she was cold so he could lend him his jacket if needed; she was definitely the kind of girl who got cold easily. Instead, the moment he turned around, he found her grabbing onto his arm just a little tighter and fighting her feet as she walked and stumbled onto her side in a dumb move when she tried to step in.
“Hey” Tom chuckled, grabbing her arms as a reflect “Was that you stumbling?” He asked, holding her still.
Her lips opened, then closed and cracked into a smile. “No” she answered, standing up straight.
He looked at her with a suspicious look that she detected in less than a millisecond. She laughed, and before he could even notice her arms were all over him, wrapping him into a hug and clinging into him. He laughed, leaned into her and kissed her lips softly, hold her close and really took in this moment. He loved it, he loved this, but he would miss it, having her here and now was something he had thought about pretty often while he was gone, and now that it was happening, it was a shame that he was going to ruin it soon.
“What if we get lost?” He whispered over her lips, kissing her cheek, and pulling her more into him.
She smiled and nodded, making him understand that they were already going home, it was obvious. He nodded back, making her know, he was actually meaning something else.
“What?” She asked, now clearly being confused.
“We” he signaled “are getting lost” he announced, already assuming there was no way she would say no to this.
Even when she doubted… he was right. She looked at him in doubt for a second and by the look on her face, it was clear that she would go with the flow of whatever he had in mind, it was just perfect.
“Okay” she mumbled, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it lightly.
Tom smiled widely, everything was going well, now he just needed to calm down, he could already feel his nerves spiking up on his spine, waiting for the worst part to happen and be over. He was turning more anxious by the second.
Thank god he’s been trained to mask this kind of shit, it was really growing on him and the last thing he needed was making a show in the middle of a public place because he was incapable of ‘playing it cool’ when he needed to.
“Guys, we’re going to take a walk home” he announced to the couple in front of them, as he grabbed his girls hand and guided her with him.
Allison immediately turned up to then and frowned. When things came out a little different, she usually made a lot of questions, but this time Tuwaine had this covered, when he immediately stepped in and wrapped his arm around Allison’s shoulders he was saving his ass from panicking, big time.
“Are you sure? The Uber is almost here” Tuwaine asked, showing him the lit up screen on his phone.
Tom smile and nodded in response.
“Yeah, we can take the long way” he shrugged, slowly walking back and taking (Y/n) with him.
“It is a very long way, are you sure you don’t want a ride?” Allison asked, genuinely sounding concerned.
“It’s shorter than you think!” Tom exclaimed, slowly turning around and making his way out.
He could sense Allison just about to fight him into coming with them into the uber, but the situation was quickly diffused by her boyfriend, who immediately sensed, it was probably better they made their way out by themselves and not step into uncomfortable situations before anything could happen.
“Leave them, I have somewhere we can go” He heard Tuwaine mumble to her quietly, thing that relaxed her and made any possible questions fade out. “See you Monday!” he created Tom as he walked away.
“See you, mate!” he waved back, saying goodbye and finally getting what he wanted.
It might raise some sort of suspicion, but this is exactly what he was asking for, a walk with (Y/n), that was it…
Now he just needed to get it together.
As they walked under the cold streets of London, Tom held her hand tightly and swung it back and forth slightly as they walked and he heard her speak, telling him stories and putting him up to date with everything. They made their way around effortlessly, already knowing where to go and how to get into quitter places where they could really be alone, they knew this place like the back of their hands, getting lost was easy, but really getting lost, for them was both easy and a pleasure. London is a beautiful city, but it is even more beautiful when you know those spots where no one else went, and that is exactly what they went for, a bit of privacy and somewhere where they could walk peacefully.
With just a bit of patience and taking the right ways, in no time they were entering themselves into the best shortcuts of the city. Suddenly, everything so much calm than before, no one else was there staring, or speaking, or calling his name, it was just them on the quietness of the streets, walking hand in hand like dumb teenagers in love. For them everything was always like if they were dumb teenagers.
He had to admit that for a second he really thought she would never buy that poor excuse he gave her to get them out of that place. In fact, he really thought she would be mad for him making them walk instead of taking a cab, however, it happened to be the complete opposite. She was looking way overly excited for having this kind of moment with him, she would walk around the middle of the street in a slightly faster pace than him, almost giving small jumps of excitements as they walked and going on into a story that clearly excited her. On the other side, he wouldn’t speak, he would just listen, made small comments and let her go on; seeing her being so excited was adorable, but he was already starting to feel terrible and it was showing. On his mind, he was trying to find the way to turn this around and make this be as mild as it could possibly be.
“You are quiet tonight” She mentioned from all sudden, stopping her story and looking back at him with a comforting smile. Obviously trying to calm him down without saying much, like she would usually do at times.
Right now he really wished that would work the same.
“No, I’m not” he excused himself, shrugging it off as he turned to look back at her.
She chuckled at his dumb answer. “Yep” she answered back, squeezing his hand as she mumbled. “Yes, you are”
Maybe it was time for him to set the mood and get serious, get into something more than just an exciting story and tone it down, that way he thought it might be easier to introduce such a thing later. The last thing he wanted was to burst her bubble from happy to concerned from all sudden, it would be so much worst.
“Sorry” he apologized, directing to her a bit of a shy smile “I'm just a little...”
“Stressed?” she guessed, cutting him off and taking him completely off guard.
Words were struggling to come out of his mouth, he wasn’t expecting her to see him stressed, even though he was, he thought he was playing it off well, looking normal and relaxed, like he usually was. Now he sees he was wrong.
“I get it, tour week it’s coming and you barely get a proper break, it kind of sucks” she mentioned, shrugging a little as she looked up front.
I’m a way she was right. He was grateful mind reading wasn’t a thing, but in certain way, she had nailed the fact that there was something in him bothering him from that aspect. He loved his job, but sometimes he couldn’t help to keep thinking about what was coming next, even when he was on vacation. This is one of those situations, however, this time there was a plus.
“Yeah, That” he chuckled nervously, as he looked down “Im having re-shoots after that” he also mentioned, keeping the conversation up.
Her eyebrows raised. “Where?” She asked.
“Atlanta”
It was surprising he did not mentioned this to her before, being such an important fact about him leaving for work, again. He usually kept this to himself, although he wouldn’t keep a secret about him leaving, he just didn’t feel like mentioning everything he had to do; he thought it made everything seem a little overwhelming, taking things slow was a better option.
“Wow” she sighed. “you don’t ever get a break, do you?”
He chuckled slightly. “No” he said “I need to learn my lines” he also mentioned, almost as a reminder to himself.
Another responsibility he needed to get his hands on before things piled up.
“Can I take a look at them?” she asked in a happy tone, already looking excited about something like this.
He smiled shyly, acting as if he would think about it, but once he turned to see her, she already knew what he was going to say. “Sure” he let out, squeezing her hand a little bit as she jumped in excitement.
He couldn’t say he was surprised about this, she was always trying to check things out when it came to his scripts. Prompts of having her, she really enjoyed all of the world of screenwriting, she always looking for so much information that it came in handy when she had comments over scripts he had to do. It helped him a lot and at the same time he hoped it helped her as well, after all, this was something she enjoyed with her whole heart.
“I have exams in two weeks, you came right in time” she mentioned, changing the topic as she let go of his hand and went in to walk over the yellow line of the sidewalk. “Right before you leave, I’ll be starting my vacation, I might even grow a pair to see you in action, mister” she mentioned, making a funny face at him and winking his way.
He laughed at her silly moves. She was the kind of person that every time she had some sort of boost of energy, it would show, this was one of the situations. She would walk over that yellow line trying to maintain balance and (for sure) acting like a little girl, she was looking for something to do as they made their way home and that would keep her active. It was certainly adorable. It was hard for him to keep track of the conversation as he watched her, it was somehow entertaining how she moved so gracefully and at the same time rambled like crazy as she spoke.
“What do you mean ‘see me in action’, lady?” he answered, imitating her teasing tone “You’ll make it to the premier?” he asked, letting his eyebrow raise unconsciously.
“Yes, to the premier!” she exclaimed, jumping in place. “I already have it thought out and everything, it will be really fun” she mentioned, giving a small twirl on her feet as she walked, keeping her little game over that line, never for a second letting herself fall.
He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling the tension over power his body. She had so much in mind, he did too. It was going to be an impossible task to burst her bubble in a gentle way because she already had high hopes over the future. He was about to ruin everything.
He is a bad person.
“I’m sure it will” he mumbled, not being aware of how it came out but suddenly realizing, his nervousness was really starting to show up.
She turned to look at him, obviously noticing the sudden change in his mood. Her face showing a slight and concerned frown on her face. He tried to mask it with a neutral look, but it really was not working now. He just stepped into a weird zone and he didn’t know how to get out, there was not going back now.
“What?” she chuckled awkwardly, trying to read his look.
His eyebrows raised. “What? What?” he answered back.
They looked at each other intensely for a good couple of seconds. Her trying to read him and him trying to act like nothing was going on. He was failing, of course, because once she took her eyes out of him, it was clear that she sensed something was off, and once again, she’d be right.
“You’re acting weird” she mentioned, stepping out of the sidewalk and towards him. “are you nervous about it?” she asked.
For a second, he completely panicked. What did she mean by ‘it’? Did she already knew what he was about to do?.
It only took him a couple seconds to realize she was actually talking about the one movie he has been working on for the past years and that hasn’t come out yet, but it will and yes, he was nervous about that too. He was rarely nervous, but this was something that also had him at the edge of his seat. He was glad she could read into that too, because at the moment it was a good mask for his weird behaviour.
“It’s my first movie for a overly famous company, I’m shitting myself” he nervously chuckled as the words left his mouth “Marvel is one thing, but this... Oof” he sighed, not being able to explain it well.
The smile on her face was very comforting. “It’ll be great” she assured him, taking his hand in hers “we all love Pixar and you are great in voice acting”
He shrugged “I don’t know” he mumbled “I was really nervous in the shooting sessions, I don’t think it’s my best” he admitted sincerely.
A shy silence fell between them. He guessed that she didn’t have much to say, he didn’t know what to say either. The truth was there were a lot of things going on in his life that made him this nervous, those were things he still had a hard a hard time controlling and he knew that even when it killed her to see him like this, she didn’t know how to handle this either. Having him like this was fairly odd.
“Is that what got you like this?” She asked shyly. He didn’t answered, he thought it was better to not say anything. She took that in as an answer and smiled. “You know my cousin always says something really wise that I don’t know if you’ve heard before but it says something like: tu n'as pas besoin d’impressionner tout le monde, fais des choses avec amour et les personnes intéressées se manifesteront” she recited, as expected, he didn’t get it, he had no clue of French. “which essentially means... if you liked what you did and you worked for it, then people will love it, and if they don’t...” she shrugged “they don’t know what they’re talking about”
He smiled.
It was nice how no matter what the conflict was in his head that bothered him in the most minimal way, she always knew what to say and I’m one way or another, it made him feel a lot better. This it was not exactly what he was looking for, but he gave her that. Watching her use her wisdom on him was a gift, he enjoyed it, even when it was not the situation, he wanted to hear one of those thoughts one last time.
If it was the last time he would get to hear them…
“Merci” he thanked her, smiling at her shyly.
She smiled back, there was something her that told her that even when he didn’t say much, he would really think about what she just told him and just… relax. That was okay, that was all she wanted and needed.
As they kept walking through those lonely and quiet streets, it was easy for Tom to find a way to change routes without her asking questions. Good thing about knowing this place so well, no matter where they went, everything could be a shortcut one way or another; before they even noticed his plan was going to perfection, just like he had planned, they were entering that isolated park where sometimes they would hangout, walk the dog, have a drink… lots of things. It was a not a strange place for them and it was the the ideal place to just sit and have a serious talk. It was just the place where they needed to be.
As they passed in front of the place, he took the chance to step into the grass surface of the park and entering it without asking if she wanted to go there first, he just did, and almost automatically, he thought it would be a good idea to make his way to the swings. Pretty much the only sitting surface they had in the whole park.
She walked beside him quietly, watching him as he sat down in one of the swings and looked up at her, waiting for her to do that same. The face she made to him was quiet funny, he was being somehow unpredictable and that was really taking her by surprise. At first she showed to be unsure, but after seeing that he was not going to move from that place in a little while, she gave up and just sat down on the swing beside him.
The atmosphere had become quiet weird and now she was the one becoming nervous, mostly because how intrigued she was, but she didn’t let that show on her, she just went with the flow, she wouldn’t let a bad feeling let her make a fool of herself.
“Why are we here?” She asked, swinging herself back and forth softly as she looked his way.
“I just thought we could sit down for a while” he mentioned quietly “have a talk” he shrugged.
It was weird, she thought, but she let it pass.
“Okay” she mumbled, nodding a little bit and not asking anymore questions.
She looked around the place, admiring the quietness that surrounded them and the sounds of nature that made themselves noticeable at this time. This place was surrounded by a neighborhood, a very nice one, that happened to have very nice houses with very nice gardens that most of the times served as houses for little insects and frogs that helped create such a nice environment. One of those houses actually happened to be her aunt’s house, pretty much the only piece of close family she had in the entire city to count on while her family was at the other side of the world, so you could say this place was no strange to her, it was a familiar environment, it almost felt like home.
“Oh, would you look at that” she laughed, taking a look at the big white house on their front “Look who’s awake” she said, pointing out to the only window of the house that showed a turned on light.
He hummed and looked that way.
“Little Franky is messing around at three in the morning, busted” she chuckled to herself “I bet he’s - like - watching porn or working or reading, but he should be sleeping, that’s a fact, he has school or whatever” she mentioned.
If there was someone she loved in this world with her entire heart was her cousin, Frank. Some may say they are siblings from another mother and the same family, but for her, that guy is her freaking soulmate. There was no one in this world that understood her better than him, and the fact that he was also in London, at the same time at her, that was priceless. They were used to being apart all of the time, having him close was just like a blessing.
“Isn’t he driving you tomorrow?” he asked, in a poor attempt of being chatty.
She smiled. “Sure, but only in the afternoon, I’m not the one who has to wake up super early” she shrugged, thinking about it for a second, seeing how her cousin’s head peeked from the window and disappeared in matter of a second. “Oh, I know what it is! I think he has some new friends in Paris, I heard, he’s probably playing video games, lame” she mocked, rolling her eyes.
He laughed at her reaction, he sensed how much she would like to be there to tease him, but it was not the time. It was adorable anyway, their relationship was adorable.
“You’re a bully, have you heard?” he teased, bumping his knee to hers.
“Stop” she fake whined, now rolling her eyes at him and looking his direction. “I have to admit, I thought we would be going home right away, have some time alone for once” she shrugged, now being more serious. “Huh? you have been home for weeks and we’ve hardly had… you know, a night for us”
The chuckle that came out of his lips was the most awkward move that he has made in his entire life, and he has done plenty of stupid shit. At this point, it was impossible for him to mask anything, it was almost like his abilities to play it cool have worn out entirely. He needed to get serious and think this through.
He didn’t want to do this and mark a wrong impression, he wanted to make things right, but with his nerves playing him like this, he was afraid he would fuck things up in a heartbeat.
“Yeah, about that” he said softly “I kind of wanted to talk to you about something”
She was too smart. The second he said that in that tone was the second her face changed completely, she knew something wasn’t right and it was starting to concern her. He felt terrible for that, he didn’t like when she worried like this.
“Are you okay?” she asked in a serious tone “Seriously, Tom, I don’t understand what is happening, you’re acting really weird” she said, a nervous chuckle coming out of her lips, as she looked at him directly and gave him all her attention.
“I am fine, I really am” he said, immediately “and let me just say, you are too, there is nothing wrong with you, you are one of the nicest beings ever, beautiful, smart and there is absolutely nothing wrong with you, nothing”
He felt like he needed to point that out, he wanted her to know it was all him, not her, make it clear before she started to have second thoughts. Although it did sound like every breakup excuse, it was the truth, he needed to lay that out.
“Okay” she said awkwardly “Thanks...”
“I really mean it” he said quickly “there is absolutely nothing wrong with you”
“What?” she sighed, already growing even more nervous. “Listen, you are really creeping me out”
He nodded, he was already starting this with the wrong foot, he needed to fix this up before his nerves betrayed him entirely.
“Sorry” he apologized “I just thought it would be easier if we came here, somehow this place calms me down” he admitted, looking around and taking a short second to breath. The tension was building up quicker than he anticipated
“Because is the only place no one is eavesdropping?” she asked, her eyebrow raising in question.
“And because I know that every time I am here, you are always with me, no matter if you are actually here or in my mind, you just… make me company” he mumbled.
Somehow his hand managed to find hers, and he held her tight for a good second. Already refusing to let go, at least for now. He just needed to hold her one more time, even if it was the last time he would have the chance…
“Something is bothering you, something other than your job” she said, stating the situation without asking what was happening, again.
He nodded, her statements were right, just now in the way she thought.
“Take a break, let’s go home” she insisted, squeezing his hand and encouraging him to get up and go home.
Without her noticing, she was silently encouraging exactly what he has been struggling to say in weeks, and she had no idea. He has been rounding this for a long time, it was finally time to say it out loud and see what happened. Now is the time, it’s something he needed to do and now that they were at this point of the night and right where he planned to be, it was time.
He looked at her straight in the eyes, took a deep breathe and just said it. It was just as easy as that.
“I’ve been thinking about this a lot, I think it might be good for us if we took a break” he finally said to her, being careful with his words and keeping it simple.
It was not easy to let this out, but once he did, it felt like taking a weight off his shoulders. If it should feel like that or not… for him it felt great.
After he said that, she paused for a second. It was clear that she didn’t know what to say or how to react, it was too sudden and she wasn’t ready for something like this. Whatever she could do or say now, he didn’t know.
“A what?” she asked in confusion “When I- I didn’t mean you took a break like this, silly, I meant a break from work, what do you mean a break?” She mentioned nervously, struggling to really understand what was happening “Tom, what do you mean?” She asked again.
He noticed it was being difficult for her to process the bomb that he just dropped to her. She understood perfectly, but she could only hope that she misunderstood the situation and it was only a joke he was trying to play. It was not.
“I mean, maybe we should take some time to see other people, take a break from each other and maybe if we don’t feel comfortable and we’re both up to it...”
…go back, he implied, hoping he had made himself clear on what he tried to say.
I’m situations like this, it was very difficult to not look like the bad guy, but at the same time, it was even more difficult to handle the whole conversation without saying the wrong thing and make it as easy as he could. He didn’t want her to feel bad or cry, but that was impossible because it was already happening, the fact it was getting out of hand without him intending it was frustrating.
He wanted to take a hold of it. He didn’t want this to end up like in a wrong way, but it was failing quicker than he thought and it scared him.
“Did I do something?” She asked, her voice broken and eyes shining.
The atmosphere was slowly changing around her. Her breathing was heavier, she was quiet, her hands tried to stay still and the flow panic that flew out of her head without her noticing was impressing. He felt terrible. He was the one responsible for breaking her bubble, she was happy, and now she was not, she was crying. It was all on him.
“You didn’t do anything” he made clear once again. “I just think we should take some time for each other, we see each other all of the time when I’m out of work, we have lived together for two years, there is not a time ever were we aren’t alone, do you know what I mean?” he tried to explain, as best as he could “Baby, I love you more than you could ever imagine, but we are young and I need space… we need space”
At the mention of space, she sobbed. If there was something she was terrified of, was space. She never had a problem with leaving him be and let him do whatever he wanted, that applied to her as well, she liked to have liberty herself, but there was something inside of her, a big irrational fear of being alone without the ones she loved around her.
He knew very well how anxious this made her and how sensitive this topic was, he has heard stories and he knows she was completely terrified of people leaving her. This was not the case, he would never let this be the case, he would never leave her life just like so.
“Couples that take breaks never get back together” she mumbled.
“We could be the exception” he argued.
“How?!” she snapped, breaking the peace of the silence of the night and for once, showing this small contained anger she had inside.
More than anger, what she had was a lot of questions. It didn’t made sense in her head how he has decided to bring this up now and the fact that it was so sudden made her struggle. She was scared of what could possible happen next, she was too used to this… what is going to happen now?.
“You’re not making this any easier” he mumbled, getting even more nervous himself, now that she was having this reaction.
“So was this…?” she tried saying, but her breathing was too heavy, she could hardly speak. “Why? Why are you doing this? Where is this coming from?��� she rambled, not containing herself at all.
“Darling” he mumbled “Calm down first, lets just talk, the least thing I want to do is hurt you” he said softly.
“You’re hurting me now” she whispered back, breaking his heart slowly.
He made sure to hold her hand tight and run his finger on the back of it. He was hoping it would help calm down, it would usually work, but he guessed it wouldn’t be that easy this time.
This was really fucked up.
She was crying and he didn’t know what to do or say. Before he could even notice, he was actually on his knees in front of her, watching from another angle how she cried and poured her heart out. He held her hands tight and tried to keep it together.
He hated this so much, but it necessary, this was something they needed for the sake of both of their relationship. He didn’t pretend to be selfish, he just needed to state that it might be the time for them to separate for a little while, even if it hurt, it was time, sooner or later, this had to happen.
“We’ve been together for four years” he explained softly “I love you, you know that, but... don’t you ever wonder how it would be to be with someone else? have a moment for you? live with no attachments, at all?” he asked, trying to state his point.
“No” she said in a outraged tone.
He was not surprised, she was a very introverted person; once she got comfortable around something, she could spend her whole life around it and not be bothered at all, she liked routine and stability, it was just how she was. For him it was the complete opposite, he liked to shake things up every once in a while, so much of the same drove him crazy and sometimes he just needed to see different things. It wasn’t his fault, he was just like that.
“Well I do” he said, still in a calmed tone.“Call me insane, but I’m curious; and even when I wished I didn’t have to leave you, or something else, I figured, I want to be honest with you no matter what” he admitted, holding her hands close to him he whispered a soft “I love you” and kissed the back of them softly. “I just ask you for a couple of weeks, a month maybe, not even” he almost begged, still being very consistent with his proposal.
Her silence remained intact for a while, she seemed unable to speak or elaborate something appropriate for this moment, she just stared at him, on his knees in front of her and begging for her to understand what went to his mind. She wanted to, she really did, but there was something else inside of her that told her this was very wrong and it was not fair this was even happening.
“Correct me if I’m wrong but” she started saying, in an attempt to speak normally “Are you breaking up with me because you want to be with someone else? Are you bored of me?”
He didn’t know how to answer to that, it was difficult to answer that without sounding like an asshole and she was asking difficult questions.
“It’s not like that” he mumbled.
“Then, correct yourself, because it sounds like that” she argued, sniffing as tears left her eyes, demanding for a proper answer.
At this moment he decided, this was going to be a difficult conversation to get around, so if he wanted to make this clearer he needed to be transparent with her. Trying to make this friendlier to not hurt her was going to fail anyway, he needed to get this out of the way and be honest. He was already stepping on this, the only thing he had left was finishing it.
They could be here all night, but if he didn’t tell her the truth, they would never get to a solid point.
“I just want to have a moment for myself” he snapped, finally confessing what was in his mind “Not like a man who has a distance relationship, because god knows how many times we’ve been over that, I want to feel how it is to be single” he said “I know this terrible and you will probably hate me after this but the only thing I want is… be”
“And then what? Take me back? I’m not a toy, Holland, you can’t just leave me aside and then take me back whenever you feel like it” she argued, a big frown growing on her forehead as she spoke.
Her hands left his in an abrupt move, he could almost feel how she was drifting away from him slowly. He wanted to stop that, get her back. Things were getting out of hand too quickly and he was terrified.
“You’re not understanding my point” he said in a very serious tone. “I’m not doing this just for myself, I think this will be healthy for both of us” he whispered. “We’re young adults; with my job and the amount of compromise I have with so many people, I don’t feel like I’m on the right mindset for anything” he explained, still trying to make things clear. “I love being with you, don’t ever believe that I don’t, but I just want to feel what it is to be single and just...” he motioned “free of everything”
The feeling of the air feeling his lungs was too potent, this much explaining was too much for him, especially at this time of the night, when he was half drunk and tired to keep up with this.
“Is that supposed to mean that I am a responsibility for you?” she mumbled, her voice getting darker as she spoke.
“Babe, of course” he said, her mouth widened in surprise instantly; he said the wrong thing and he knew it well. “not in a bad way, obviously, you’re my girl, I don’t want to lose you, not now or ever, but maybe taking this break will help us... revive the flame”
As soon as he saw the chance, he grabbed both of her hands in his again and kissed the back of them softly. She didn’t resist it, but there was something in the air that told him she wasn’t comfortable.
He was a bad person.
Looking away from his face and into the dark sky of the night, she took a good breath and cried. She cried because it was the only thing she could do to drain her feelings without making this situation worst, even when he started it.
“I-I-I…” she stuttered, trying to say something “Since when have you wanted to…?” she asked, not being able to finish the phrase.
She didn’t need to, he knew perfectly what she meant. It was fair that she asked that, she had the right to know and he had the right to explain it all.
“Since the last time I left” he confessed, opening up to her “I know, I know what you’re thinking and I know it took me the longest time to tell you about this, but I just… I wanted to tell you in person” he said softly “I feel like we have been on a cycle since we started dating, understand me, I just need a breather, I feel like a need a change in my life to get back on track later” he shrugged “This has nothing to do with you, it’s all me, I promise; it hurts for both of us, I am just begging you, let’s give us some time, live our lives, take a break and see how we feel, for once” he begged her, hoping she would understand and know what was happening through his brain.
“But I don’t want to lose you” she mumbled.
“I don’t want to lose you either, and you won’t” he assured her, kissing the back of her hands “I just want to clear my mind, I want you to have you space, relax, let both of us have time for ourselves… not spend all of the time together” he explained one more time “honestly, I’m annoying, don’t you get sick of me?”
He wished this make her feel a lot better. A small smile came out of her lips but there was still sadness in her eyes. She didn’t want to let go and it was too difficult to process everything that was just happening, she was never ready for this, she didn’t even know if the right thing was to let it happen or to fight it. It was a situation she was completely unfamiliarized with.
Although there were a million thoughts running through her mind by the second. When he got back on his feet and leaded her to do the same, she was already thinking about his proposal and it seemed like she had no other option than to take it, because if he already had this decision made, it was impossible he would change his mind, things were already said, there was no going back. Whether she liked it or not, it is what it is and there was nothing she could do about it.
“We can still be friends, right?” she asked.
Tom tensed for a good second. “I think it would be better if we just kept distance”
One of the hardest part of taking this decision was accepting the right thing to do was to not only be apart from each other, but to really keep a distance so things could work the proper way. One of the two of them would break down if they kept contact, so it was better to keep it that way, just until the time was right, he thought, for the time being they just needed a good established break.
“Seriously?” she asked, almost whining at his answer.
He nodded “Just until we’re ready” he mumbled “It’ll just be a while, love, I promise”
He knew this was coming, it’s been happening for a while. When a cry came out of her lips he was the first to pull her into his arms and let her cry the pain away. His heart shrunk at the sight of her pain, but it was his fault and he needed to be empathetic and show support, even when he was hurt as well. He was responsible, but it would be good for them.
“I don’t want to be without you” she cried, holding onto him tightly.
She held him tight and cried on his chest. If it was for her, she would never let go, she didn’t want to let go.
“It’ll be good for us, I promise you, just a couple of weeks” he mumbled, his fingers running through her hair.
“And if you don’t come back? If you feel better without me?” she asked.
Until this moment, he never thought about that part.
What if it felt better to be alone?
“...then maybe, it’s a sign” he said, almost whispering “Of course that won’t happen; we’re a team, we should take this as a time for meditate and reflect on ourselves” he said, looking down at her and mumbling “It’ll be okay”
Part of her wanted to not believe that, there was always something in her that told her this was wrong and he was lying, but something in her heart felt that… deep down, really deep down, he had a reason for all this, and he was right. This had to be mutual, she had no other option than to agree, even when she didn’t want to let him go so easily, the decision was already taken.
She looked up at him, really wanting to look into his eyes, looking for answers. Something in his face showed empathy for her, but there was also something in him that looked serene and peaceful, he looked sure of what he was doing, and unlike her, completely calmed with this whole situation. She envied his capacity to remain so calm. On his lips he showed her a small smile, telling her it would all be okay and there was nothing to worry about, that they would get through this and it would be worth every second, a smile that told her he was more than sure of it.
She didn’t know if it was worth believing that. He didn’t know what would happen, neither did her. Him being so sure about all this made her nervous.
Suddenly the biggest fact of them all hit her.
“Distance…” she mumbled, once it all fell into place. “Where am I supposed to go then?”
Of course this was something she should have worried about sooner, he has and she did not notice about that in any second, her thoughts were too consumed on the fact her four-year boyfriend was leaving her.
He shyly smiled, telling her, he already had it thought out.
It was never a coincidence he decided to take this way home and come to this park in particular. It was never a coincidence they were sitting in front of her aunt’s house, because once they had this conversation, this would be her stop and he would go home, all alone. He already had it thought out and she never guessed what he planned, not even in the slightest bit.
The shock of the moment kept her quiet, she was physically unavailable to speak for a solid couple minutes. Given the time, he decided it was time for her to go where she needed to, so he walked her to the door, it was the least he could do. The fact she would probably get in trouble for knocking at his aunt’s door and ask to stay at this time, that was the least of their problems, he had it already talked out, so the hardest part of the night would be definitely saying goodbye. He wanted to make it as smooth as possible, but letting her go just like this was never going to be easy.
“You can send whoever you want to pick up your clothes and everything you need, even yourself if you want” he let her know as they stepped into the front door. “Just for a couple of weeks, or however you think it is necessary, my door is always open if you need anything” he let her know.
She nodded. “This the last time I will see you, then” she said, he nodded back.
“Just until the time is right” he let her know.
And if it wasn’t right… it would be the last time.
“Will you… call me or anything?” she asked innocently, fearing this would truly be the last time they would ever see each other.
Fearing this would only be the start of her worst nightmare.
“Like I said, I think it would be better if we kept distance” he said, a sad smile showing on his face “but please call me if something happens, anything, for you I will pick up in a second” he said, being sure of every single one of his words.
It was needless to say that he only meant this for necessary things. She knew she wouldn’t be able to make contact with him like before, what he meant right now was only referred to strictly necessary problems, not just any conversation. He would be there for her, but if it was just a casual thing, he wouldn’t be picking up the phone, she would have to look for someone else to talk to.
She never thought this would be happening to them.
“So this is a goodbye” she mumbled “I love you” she said, meaning every single one of her words “and I’m sorry”
His heart broke at the sound of her words. It was not fair that she said that, but he took it, she felt guilty even when she didn’t need to, he couldn’t blame her. This was too sudden, she couldn’t think straight.
“I love you so much” he said in clear words, walking up to her. “you don’t have to apologize for anything”
She smiled, already stating an answer, she knew that.
It was a bad habit, apologizing, it seemed to be something she just did as an instinct and he was always reminding her of that. The fact that he was even reminding her of this in such a moment was ironic.
Taking a step forward, Tom walked up to her and kissed her lips for one last time, not like it was a goodbye, rather than that, he wanted this to be a ‘see you soon’. He placed his lips over hers softly, and making them touch for only a couple seconds, to then slowly step back once it started to feel hard to get away, and before he could get attached, he kept his distance and decided to walk away, go home. Short and sweet, that was the plan.
He kept walking, trying his best to not look back as he left her behind and made his way out. He wanted this, he reminded himself, it was hard but it was something he had to do.
Of course, he wouldn’t just leave without making sure she would get inside, safe and sound; that’s why once he was out of sight, he stopped his pace and just waited, waited to hear that door open and her getting in that house, or at least something that told him there was no way something bad could happen to her while he was not looking. If any of that happen he would never forgive himself.
Part of him expected to hear her cry at the sight of him leaving, but instead, he was surprised when he heard her ring the doorbell straight up. She would get in trouble for that, for sure, but as long as she got in safely, it didn’t matter.
“Yes?” He heard a quiet masculine voice mutter through the intercom.
Frank, of course. The only person who could be up at that time and the only one she probably wanted to speak to at the moment.
“C’est moi (It’s me)” she mumbled through the intercom, speaking in French, only to assure him that it was her indeed.
Frank was no stranger to the language, he was born in France after all, he grew up with it and he was the one teaching her, after all. It was like their way of communicating, their special connection.
“It’s so late, are you drunk or something?” He said in a sort of annoyed tone, sounding tired and done with everything.
“Please Frankie, open up” she whined, holding the tears and barely able to speak.
“One sec”
The tension was building up quick, he felt so guilty. He guessed this is what it took to take such hard decisions.
He felt the impulse of leaving at that moment, once he knew she was finally getting in the house. However, he decided it was better to stay until it was just him in that street; something inside of him didn’t let him take another step while she was still there, he wanted to hear whatever was said, but specially, hear her voice one last time.
Only god knew how much he was going to miss her from now on.
The front door opened, she was finally with someone other than him. Someone familiar.
“Oh Chérie, what happened?” Frank said with worry, once he saw her “Est-ce que ça va? (Are you okay?)” He asked.
“No” she cried, breaking down in a million pieces “He broke up with me” she mumbled to him, with a broken voice “He left me”
Hearing her say that stroke him like he never thought it would. He never thought he wold hear those words coming out of her mouth. He left her, he really did and she really believed that. He left her, after all those years together, and he was very sorry.
The damage was done. He has done what he planned and there was no going back, as difficult as it was, he did what he needed to.
He got what he wanted.
Tom Holland was now a free man.
#tom holland#tom holland fanfic#tom holland imagines#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland blurb#tom holland x reader#tom holland imagine#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagines#tom holland smut#tom holland blurbs#tom holland x oc#tom holland x original character#tom holland x fem
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Taking the Easy Street
Fandom: Criminal Minds (Sugar Daddy AU)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader
Summary: You work at a cafe where the esteemed author Doctor Spencer Reid visits often. You two make small talk every once in a while which eventually leads to the discussion of finances. After learning about your financial struggles, Spencer gives you can offer you just can't seem to refuse.
You were on the verge of getting evicted because you’re two weeks behind for this month’s rent. You’re trying to finish your masters all the while trying to juggle two jobs. It was...hectic.
You solemnly sigh as you restock the pastry case, completely unaware of one of your regulars stepping in until he spoke up, “You okay, Y/N?”
You look up to see esteemed psychological thriller writer, Doctor Spencer Reid, leaning over the counter to look at you. You give him a polite smile and stand, “Um, honestly, not really. But I shouldn’t unload my problems onto you. Anyway, the usual?”
“Yes, please, and a raspberry danish.”
“Coming right up!” you place his order, taking his card and swiping through. After handing him the receipt, he pulls out a twenty dollar bill and slips it into the tip jar, like he always does.
You grab his danish and pour his coffee into a cup. You go to the pick up counter, sliding them to him, “Here ya go! See ya soon!”
He places his hand on yours before you could leave, “Wait,” you don’t say anything, so he continues, “Why don’t you take a break and we can chat?”
“Doctor Reid-”
“Please? I’ve noticed you’ve been really stressed out lately and, well, people say I’m a good listener.”
You softly smile at him and nod, “Okay, but will I get charged?” you asked jokingly.
He shakes his head with a chuckle, “Free of charge. I’ll be at that table,” he just points to an empty table by the window behind him and you nod.
You go to Penelope, your friend and manager, letting her know you’re going on break. To which she replies with a smile, “Of course, sweet stuff!” She was a great person and manager and you adored her.
Taking off your barista apron, you round the counter and head to the table Doctor Reid was at. You sat down with a sigh and he wipes his mouth with a napkin, quickly gulping down some coffee.
“Sorry.”
You shake your head with a snort, “It’s alright.”
He moves his pastry and drink to the side, resting his arms on the table, “So, like I said, I’ve noticed you’ve been kinda stressed lately. What’s been going on?”
So you unload everything on him. About your financial situation, juggling two jobs, your rent, etc. After letting all of that out, you felt a lightness on your shoulders.
Doctor Reid reached across the table to rest his hand on yours, “I can help.”
“Doctor Reid-”
“Y/N, just-may I speak, please?” you nod and he lets out a deep breath, “I’m pretty...comfortable. But I’m also very busy. Because of touring, writing, teaching, among other things. Anyway, I was thinking maybe we can make some sort of agreement?” he already saw the apprehension on your face and immediately doubled back, “Nothing bad or-or sexual, I promise! Um, people usually refer to it as a sugar daddy - sugar baby relationship.”
“Soooo...you want me to be your sugar baby?”
“Yes. Again, nothing sexual. You can just be a friend, accompany me to charity events or social events. Be there for me when I’m feeling a little overwhelmed with teaching or when I need to take a break from writer’s block.”
“So I do all that and you’ll, what, just pay me for being your friend?”
“Essentially, yeah. Like I said, I’m always super busy. I never have time to go on proper dates and be around women a lot. I’m-honestly, I’m a little lonely.”
“Have you done this before?”
“Yes, actually, with my now best friend, JJ. Everything was very amiable. I helped her get an apartment and pay off her student loans.”
You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest. Your brows creased in concentration and Doctor Reid found it to be quite adorable.
“Can I think about it?”
He gave you an understanding smile, “Of course,” he then looked at his watch and saw the time, “I have to get going to get ready for my lecture, but I’ll see you the usual time tomorrow. You don’t have to rush on the decision, by the way. I understand that it’s unconventional.” he stood up finishing the rest of his danish and coffee. He then took out his wallet, pulling out a couple of one hundred bills and slid them over to you, “For this months rent and then some.”
You shook your head immediately, “Doctor Reid-”
“Spencer, and, don’t worry about. I really would like to help you,” with another kind smile, he threw away his trash and headed out the door.
As soon as he left, Penelope came skittering over to you, “Okay, what was that about?”
You looked at the money in your hand, realizing he just gave you $500, “I think I just became a sugar baby.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds au#sugar daddy au
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Cinnamon and Sugar
Chapter Three
Warnings: language, fluff, mentions of a toxic relationship, small angst
Characters: Dean, Reader, Benny Lafitte (mentioned only)
Pairings: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Dean let you sit in his car until the rain let up a bit. "God, I hate the rain." He grumbled.
"I love it." You whisper, your eyes wandering the parking lot. "When I was younger, and there was a thunderstorm, me and my siblings would make a fort and huddle underneath it together. We loved it when the power would go out. We would light candles and grab flashlights and play board games in the dark. Sometimes Andrew would read to us. But uh - it would be scary stories," You smiled. "He would scare the ever living crap out of us. Lena and Josh would would cuddle into my side, no matter how much I hated it, they would still do it."
"You really love your siblings." Dean noted, swallowing hard, memories of Sam flooding his head.
"I do." You nodded. "They're all I have. Sure, I have my parents, but it's not the same, you know? Growing up, my siblings and I fought like dogs and cats, but we knew each other better than anyone, even our parents. Even when I go months without seeing them, when we all get together, it's like we're still little kids, ya know? We goof around, we argue, we joke. It's like none of us ever grew up."
Dean stayed silent for a moment, and you weren't sure if your message was getting across. "Look, I know we don't know each other very well, but what I'm trying to say is, call your brother. I don't know what happened between you two, but it's obvious that you love him. You shouldn't waste all your time worrying about whether you should contact him first or if he's angry with you. Time is a precious thing and people often waste it."
"Damn, you're wise." Dean gave a quiet chuckle. "But you're right. I will call him soon, I'm just not ready yet." And with that, the Impala was enveloped in silence again. That is, until Dean's stomach let out a loud rumble. "Sorry," He apologized with a sheepish grin.
"Don't worry about it." You shrugged. "It looks like the rains letting up. Do you want to come inside and I can fix you some food?"
"Oh, I don't want to impose." He shook his head.
"Nonsense. You gave me a ride home, this is the least I can do."
Dean silently debated whether or not he should take you up on the offer, but ultimately agreed, seeing as he was starving. By the time you were under cover, you were both soaked.
As soon as you opened the door to your apartment, you were met with a warm blast of heat. A pleasant shiver ran down your spine.
You began to click your tongue, calling out for your moody cat. "Storm, c'mere buddy." Your cat glared at you stubbornly from his place on the window seal. You rolled your eyes, slipping off your jacket and hanging it over the back of the chair.
"Sorry," You apologized to Dean. "My cat's being a little bitch." The man let out a laugh at your comment. "I gave him a bath and clipped his claws yesterday; now he's pissed at me."
"How in the hell do you cut a cat's nails?" He questioned, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Very carefully." You noticed that Dean was shivering. "Let me grab you a towel. I think I have some of my exes clothes. You're about the same size."
He was going to object when you silenced him with a look. You went to your room and began rummaging around in your draws, eventually finding a pair of black sweat pants and a grey hoodie.
"Try this," You said, handing Dean the clothes. "They should fit. You can change in the bathroom; it's the first door on the right."
While Dean went to change, you did the same. You exited your bedroom dressed in a pair of black leggings and a UK sweatshirt.
You noticed that Dean still wasn't out yet, so you went to start some food. You contemplated on what you should cook before ultimately deciding that mac and cheese would do. It was a comfort food, after all.
It would take a bit longer than usual, since you were making it from scratch, but Dean had said earlier that he had nowhere to be.
"Smells good in here." Dean noted when he walked out of the bathroom. Seeing him in Michael's clothes made your heart stop for a second, and not in a good way.
Dean and Michael had many similarities, the hair color, height, demeanor, etc. And you didn't want to be reminded of that man.
"Thanks," You said nonchalantly. "It's nothing special, but I thought you'd like it."
"So," Dean started, leaning against the counter. "This is a nice little set up you've got here."
"It's not much, but it's home." You shrugged as you stir the pot of noodles. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Storm sneaking around the corner of the kitchen, hoping for some food or a treat.
"How long have you lived here?" Dean asked.
"About five years." You informed him. "Ever since I turned eighteen I've been living on my own."
"How come?"
"You know the thing parents always say? 'As long as you live in my house, you follow my rules'? Well, I didn't like their rules so I got myself this apartment and I've lived here ever since."
Dean snorted. "Yeah, my old man was like that too. I actually did the same thing as you did. 'Cept I came back 'bout a week later." He laughed. "I was too dependent on my dad and brother. I have never lived alone before then; and to be honest, I hate living by myself. I still do."
"You never got roommates?"
"I had a few. There was Mick and Cas. Of course, I can't forget Benny." He grinned. "But they're all gone now."
"Benny?" You mumbled. "As in Benny Lafitte?"
"Yeah, why? You know him?"
"Do I?" You rolled your eyes. "That idiot's my cousin."
"Really?" Dean said excitedly. "I haven't heard from him in ages, how's he doing?"
"He's loving by the coast, and the last I heard, he met some girl named Andrea and he is head over heels in love."
"That's great." Dean smiled. "I really happy for him."
"Yeah, I expect to get an invitation to his wedding so enough. The way he talks about her, you would think he's known her his entire life."
"That's sweet. Benny seems like the guy that falls hard after one date."
"Oh yeah, he definitely is." You giggle. "He calls me after one date and says, 'Y/N, I think I'm in love. If I sent you a picture of a wedding ring, would you look at it and tell me what you think?'"
"No way!" Dean laughed.
"Yes! I had to talk him down from buying an engagement ring! I told him to wait for a year and a half, and then revisit the subject of marriage. Times almost up and he's still fawning over her. But I'm happy for him, he definitely deserves this."
You sprinkled bread crumbs on top of the Mac and cheese before popping it in the oven for a few minutes.
"You put break crumbs on your mac and cheese?" Dean questioned.
"You don't?"
"Never tried it." He shook his head.
"You caveman." You sighed. "I will just have to train you." Dean gave a harmonious laugh, which, in turn, made you laugh as well.
You grabbed a towel and pulled the mac and cheese out of the oven. You scooped some onto a plate and handed it to Dean. Both of you sat down at your small kitchen table and began to dig in.
"Oh my god." Dean said, his mouth full with food. "That is the best mac and cheese I've ever had."
"See? Told you it would be good."
"I'll never doubt you again." He mumbled as he shoveled more into his face.
You ate in a comfortable silence until there was a knock at your door. "I'll be right back." You told Dean as you opened the door.
"Mr. Pierce." You said nervously. "What can I help you with?" You knew what he wanted. And you sure as hell didn't have it.
"You're behind on rent, Y/N. I need the money, or I'll have no choice but to evict you." You felt your heart drop to your stomach.
"I-I don't have it right now. My hours have been cut and I-"
"I'm sorry, Y/N. You're a good girl, but I need someone who will lay rent on time every month. I really hate to do this, but I want you out in two weeks."
"I-It's okay, Mr. Pierce," You assured him shakily. "I understand." And with that, he was gone. You gave a shaky breath as you leaned on the door.
"Y/N?" Dean called, approaching the living room. "What's going on? Are you okay?"
"I will be." You nodded.
"What happened?" Dean questioned gently.
"I just got my eviction notice." You deadpanned. Dean's mouth popped open in shock. "I have to be out in two weeks."
"Crap, sweetheart. I'm sorry. What are you going to do?"
"Couch surf for a while, maybe? I know Jo will let me stay with her for a couple of days, but if her landlord catches me there, he'll throw her out too."
"What about your parents?"
You gave a cold laugh. "No, they'll never let me come home. I would stay with my older brother, but he's overseas right now. So honestly, I don't know what I'm going to do."
Dean stayed silent for a moment before speaking up. "You could come live with me." He suggested.
"Dean, I really appreciate the offer, but I can't impose on you like that."
"It's okay," He assured you. "I have an extra bedroom. And it's not imposing if I'm asking. Besides, like I said before, I hate living on my own."
"Dean, we barely know each other." You tried to reason.
"Hi, my name is Dean Winchester, I'm an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women." You let out a loud laugh. "There, now you know more about me."
"Dean-"
"Just think about it. If you can't find anywhere else to live, my door's always open. I have to go, but here's my number," He said, writing down his phone number on a sticky note. "If you need anything, call me." Dean gave you a small smile before he walked out the door.
You flopped on the couch, staring up at ceiling. Storm jumped up on your chest, purring loudly. You gently scratched his back. "What should I do, Storm?" You asked. "Would you want to live wYou flopped on the couch, staring up at ceiling. Storm jumped up on your chest, purring loudly. You gently scratched his back. "What should I do, Storm?" You asked. "Would you want to live with Dean? You seemed to like him." Storm gave a tiny meow, his eyes closing shut. "Real big help there, buddy."ith Dean? You seemed to like him." Storm gave a tiny meow, his eyes closing shut. "Real big help there, buddy."
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Tag List:
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#deanwinchtser#dean winchester imagine#dean x reader#dean winchester au#dean winchester x reader#Sam Winchester#sam winchester imagine#castiel imagine#benny lafitte#supernatural fluff#supernatural#supernatural au#dean winchester x yn#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x you#supernatural imagine#supernatural x reader#coffee shop au#jo harvelle#Kevin Tran#jack kline#castiel#ash#bobby singer
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Should’ve Known Better [GW]
After the Second Wizarding War, the wizarding world faces a great recession that puts you and George in financially and morally compromising situations.
Pairing: George Weasley x Reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: swearing and terrible use of tenses (im sorry for the grammar)
A/N: written for angst prompt #14 for @kalimagik‘s 1.3k writing challenge!! congrats on 1.3k again!! <3
You had always been good–exceptional, actually–at writing since your teenage years. Essays you’ve written for work assigned by Professor Flitwick managed you top marks. Hell, even Snape commended your writing from time to time (if he wasn’t too busy taking away points from Gryffindor.) Throughout your years at Hogwarts, you entered multiple wizarding writing competitions and won them all. It made sense to you to seek out a job at the Daily Prophet after graduating from Hogwarts to put those writing skills to good use.
Your first year at the Daily Prophet was difficult, to say the least. You were paid almost next to nothing and writing on an empty stomach while worrying if you had enough galleons to pay rent was terrible for your creative process. On top of that, it seems as though whatever piece you made never satisfied your boss, Angel Hornbeam, editor of the Tragedies and Mishaps section of the paper. Each piece you wrote was either sent back with red ink splattered across the parchment with scathing comments on how sophomoric & crass your writing was or outright discarded. You didn’t know what Angel hated more: you or your writing.
There you were walking down Diagon Alley after a grueling day at work. You made two pieces today–only two pieces–that were immediately thrown out to the rejection pile at the corner of Angel’s office. Roan Staghart, a colleague of yours, accidentally spilled pumpkin juice all over you which Angel pointed out and subsequently prompted her to give you a long-winded lecture on how unbecoming it was to sport such an unprofessional appearance in a place of work. You made your way down Diagon Alley with your path only being illuminated by the lights in the shops you passed. You were downtrodden and hungry and lonely and unmotivated and uninspired. You thought about the eviction notice plastered to your flat’s door that you received earlier that day before heading off to work. You thought about the empty pantry in said flat, which then reminded you of your empty wallet. Lost in thought and not looking directly straight ahead, you ram your head straight into the open door of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Your arse lands on the cobblestoned path and you’re clutching your bleeding nose with your right hand, while your left provides support.
“Merlin, I’m sorry!” says one of the Weasley twins as he hurriedly walks toward you.
“Georgie, go get her some ice.” says the twin to the other behind him, still clutching the door open.
“Fred, right? Sorry, I’m shite at telling you and your brother apart.” You say while letting out a humourless chuckle, wincing in pain as you clutch your nose. Fred crouches down to your level.
“S’alright, just know I’m the better looking one.” He pauses, “You’re [Y/N], you were in [Hogwarts House], correct? I remember you selling a pre-written essay to Lee in our fourth year. T’was the only he got an O for, if I recall.” says Fred with a joking grin. George runs back with ice wrapped in a handkerchief which he passes to Fred, which Fred passes to you.
“Had to make money to buy butterbeer at Hogsmeade somehow.” You answer him as you bring the wrapped ice to your nose. Both the brothers smile at you and you smile back.
“Fred and I were actually headed off to dinner at our flat, join us. I suppose it’s the least we could do after the damage we’ve inflicted onto your poor nose.” George proposes.
“I couldn’t impose–”
“Nonsense!” They say in unison. Fred offers you a hand, which you graciously take. He pulls you up and you walk with them to their flat.
You were now at the Weasley twins’ shared flat at the edge of Diagon Alley. It was the best meal you’ve had in weeks, not to mention the twins’ presence was a morale booster in itself. Dinner lasted an hour, but the conversations after lasted well into the night. You wondered why you weren’t friends with the twins during their school years. Perhaps if you detached your hand from your favorite quill and parchment, you would have been. Regardless, that night sparked a friendship.
You were stopping by the shop on your way home from work on the daily and the twins enjoyed your presence so much so they offered you a small, part-time job as a stock keeper as a means to keep yourself afloat while your work your way up the Daily Prophet ladder. They’d come to visit you in their spare time at your dinky flat on the border of Knockturn and Diagon alley. As hard as your first year at the Daily was, your newfound friendship with Fred and George made it all the worthwhile. While you and Fred remained friends, you and George had begun to engage in a shameless “flirtationship” as you coined–always dancing on the border of friends and being more than friends. Stealing kisses in the shop, holding hands underneath dinner tables, George reasoning out to Fred that you needed help at your flat only for him to spend the night, writing little notes for George before he left in the morning. Everyone around you knew you and George were it, as much as you and he tried to suppress it. One day, George decided to make it real and official.
Your personal life had improved immensely after your horrendous first year as a journalist. You were dating George Weasley, your pantry was always full now, and you didn’t have to worry about getting evicted anymore. Your work life wasn’t as terrible as before as Angel Hornbeam turned over a new leaf and was much more forgiving at work. You were finally given a small promotion–not a choice Angel made, but by a higher-up as you stayed loyal to the good of the wizarding world–which offered you enough stability to leave the shop.
The wizarding world at this point in time, however, was not improving. Death eaters infiltrated the ministry and your beloved Hogwarts. They started censoring pieces at the Daily Prophet, much to your chagrin. You couldn’t write or report about tragedies happening as the Death Eaters wanted the media to depict dark wizards as righteous and justify their actions. You moved over to making crossword puzzles for the paper as opposed to spewing lies about Lord Voldemort and his mission to take over the wizarding world. Fred and George had to close down shop for the time being as the Weasleys went into hiding.
Then the Battle of Hogwarts happened. You fought alongside Fred and George, casting spells and charms. Blasting death eaters left and right. You did everything you could to fight against the Death Eaters. But you couldn’t save Fred, nor could George. George was never the same after Fred’s death and neither were you. You were both deeply resigned to grieving and still continue to do so everyday. The sun still rose and set like it always did, but Fred was gone and the world just kept spinning. It left you and George no time to breathe.
The wizarding world slowly built itself back up after the war, with Kingsley Shacklebolt acting as the Minister for Magic. He’d done a bloody good job of it. He purged out the dark wizards from the ministry and from the Daily Prophet, effectively returning most things back to normal. You were back to writing in the Tragedies and Mishap department, but the wizarding world hit a great recession after the war. People were losing jobs left and right; you knew for a fact that your neck was next on the chopping board if you didn’t come up with a good piece soon. Though George was slowly reopening the shop, with the help of his family, it wasn’t enough to keep you and he afloat. Losing this job would bring your right back to where you were your first year out of Hogwarts and you were determined to avoid that.
--
It was 3 o’clock in the afternoon, two hours to the end of the work week. You haven’t written anything substantial in a while and your desk was evidence. The brown wood was stained with droplets of stray ink from your quill, but they weren’t as obvious because of the crumpled pieces of ripped parchment scattered across the desk. Your hand was ink-stained and your hair was in disarray. To say the least, you looked a mess.
“[Y/N], I need you in my office,” Angel called out to you, peering out of her office door.
You stood up, straightening out your top, trying to look as presentable as possible. Walking over to her office catches the attention of your many officemates. Your stomach begins to feel like a vacuum, sucking in all the air around you, ineffectively trying to get you to breathe. Were your fears getting realized? Was this it for your writing career? So many thoughts raced in your head as you walked–slogged, rather–the distance from your desk to Angel’s office. You reach the archway of her door and she instructs you to close it. You gulp heavily.
“Yes, Angel? Anything I could do for you?” You anxiously choke out. You feel like your guts are about to unceremoniously find its way out your mouth and onto her office floor.
Her office was decorated all in black, from her quills to her velvet wallpaper. Angel stood out in the gloomy decor of her office, sporting an all-white outfit. She says it’s a metaphor–tragedies are both light and dark, simultaneously and she wants to embody that. A little pretentious, but she’s right nonetheless.
“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not going to fire you, darling.” Darling, a term of endearment, but never when it came from Angel’s lips. “I’m close, but I won’t. I have a proposition”
You look at her intently, your eyes almost bulging.
“I want an editorial piece on grief and love. I want romance wrapped in despair, topped with angst.” Angel mused.
“I beg your pardon?” You muster out.
“Write about lost love, the war did just happen–it’ll be fresh, uncut,” Angel pauses for dramatic effect, “Absolutely raw.” She clenches her fist in such a theatrical manner, it's almost comical.
You stay silent, unsure of what to say or do. Your face must’ve looked bewildered, as she slouches and rolls her eyes.
“Godric, I want you to interview someone who lost the love of their life because of the war, so to speak. It’ll do wonders for readership. Have you read that muggle story–Romeo and Juliet? Love and tragedy create such a spicy little mix.” She says in response to your look.
“Wouldn’t that be exploitative, no? Everyone’s still grieving.” You question Angel.
“That’s journalism.” Angel’s brows are furrowed and you can tell she’s trying to control her temper. “I better have a damn well-written editorial on my desk come Monday morning. May I remind you, you are the last of your colleagues to have either been promoted up or let go. Do you want to be the latter?”
You gulp, she hasn’t threatened you since your first year at the office. You shakily let out a soft no. She returns with a softly-said good and points you to the direction of her door.
--
You were on your way home to you and George’s shared flat in Diagon Alley. Your mind was raking itself for who you could possibly call to satisfy Angel’s wants. The gears were grinding hard until you had the aha moment–Angelina. Her and Fred’s relationship was complicated to say the least. They weren’t friends but they weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but they didn’t want to see other people. You could no longer recall what they were and with Fred gone, the answer didn’t seem to matter anymore. The “almost” aspect of the relationship would provide the angst–unfinished business, if you will. Fred’s death and the love that could’ve been. You lit up at the ideas forming in your head, but you feel your conscience gnawing at you. However, you and George had to keep the lights on somehow.
George had beaten you home that night and was eating a packed dinner from Molly on your couch. You hang your bag on the rack next to the door, taking your coat off as well. You walk over to George, plotting your body next to him. Resting your head against his shoulder you say, “How was your day?”
You each share quips about your days at work, leaving out Angel’s request entirely. A silence ensues and you find this to be the most opportune moment to ask him.
“D’you mind having Angelina over tomorrow? A light catch-up? Haven’t seen her since, well, y’know when.” You ask George. His face stiffens.
“Alright, would be good to see an old friend, yeah?” He manages to say. He gets up to write an owl to Angelina. He sends the owl off and within the hour, Angelina’s response comes back. She agrees.
--
It’s the day of your interview-not-interview with Angelina. You are in the bathroom getting ready while George waits by the door for Angelina. Your self-writing quill for note taking and its accompanying notebook are hidden in a cupboard at the corner of the kitchen that could not be seen from the dining room, ready to start writing at your will.
“Love, Angelina’s here!” George says through the bathroom door. You quickly get out, rounding the corner to get to the living room and see Angelina sat on your sofa. You bring her in for a hug which she happily returns, you feel the guilt creep up again. You try and dismiss the feeling as hard as you can but it lingers like an unwanted guest. Trying to ease your nerves, you invite her to the dining room, where food you cooked in the morning lay waiting.
Angeline told stories about her life as a bigtime Quidditch match commentator and you entertained her with stories from the Sports department. You were both marveling at how much time has changed things since your graduation from Hogwarts to the war to life now. Now’s a good a time as any, your mind reasons out. You muster what little courage you had and shift the topic over to Fred.
“So, Angelina, how have you been holding up, since the battle?” You ask her. George looks at you strangely, as he notes the shift and tone in your voice.
“Uh, well I’m here. Coping. Grieving.” She responds.
“We’re here for you, tell us more.” You say, trying to probe more information out of her. A slimy feeling makes itself known in the insides of your stomach and you try your hardest to ignore it.
Angelina stays silent and then starts, “It’s been rough, Fred–” The winning ticket.
“What about Fred? It was a bit complicated before he died.” Cutting her off, you were siphoning as much information as you can.
“Yes, it was. You know that.” Angelina deflected, but she continued. “I wish there was more time. More time with him.” Her voice grew heavy, but you tried to turn up the pressure.
“Tell me, what would you have done with that time? Were there things you would’ve said? Done?”
Angelina takes an ugly pause.
“Well?” You don’t mean to say this in such a crass and impatient manner, but you do.
At this point, George stands up. He gets uncomfortable and goes to the cupboard to fetch himself a glass of water. As he inches to the cupboard, he hears scratching noises like a quill writing on parchment. He knows exactly what you’re doing now. Opening the cupboard he sees your quill and notebook scribbling away. On the pad is written, “‘A love lost, an almost,’ says Angelina as she begins to tell me about what could’ve been had Fred avoided his untimely death…” George stopped reading. It clicks in George’s head now. It explains the sudden decision to send an owl over to her last night. George’s jaw tenses up.
He grabs a glass, closing the cupboard, while leaving the quill and notebook in there. He heads to the front of the refrigerator where you’d be unable to see him. It gives him time to rethink his next move while calming down. He knew journalism would be gross, but he didn’t think you’d prey on your friends–especially since you knew how everyone was still mourning the loss of his twin brother.
Angelina begins to cry from the other room, but you continue to hound her with questions.
“What would you be doing now if Fred were still around? Do you still dream of a life with him? What else have you been doing to fill the space? Do you wish there was more you could’ve done?” The words were practically marathoning out your mouth. The guilt in you subsides and all you feel now is a desire to get the truth out of Angelina. It’s as though you were watching this unfold from the corner of the room; it wasn’t you shoving questions down Angelina’s throat, but an entirely different entity.
“Merlin, will you stop!” Angelina boomed. “I’m leaving. I missed you and George, I really did. But, how dare you. We’re all grieving and if this is your sick at attempt at therapy, I’ve damn near had it.”
You’re silent and you feel yourself float back to your body, sat in front of a tearful and red-faced Angelina. She angrily gets up, dropping her fork onto the table. She makes a beeline for the coat rack, grabbing her things, and leaves–making sure to slam the door.
“What the fuck was that, [Y/N]?” George shot at you, as he emerged from the kitchen. He was holding his glass of water with his fingers by the brim, both his arms by his side. The expression plastered on his face was a mixture between disappointed, frustration, and anger. You stay silent.
“Answer me, what was that?” George repeats again. You still stay silent, you don’t know how to answer him. “Were you trying to make a piece out of Angelina?”
You look down at your lap repentantly. “Angel said she’d fire me if I didn’t.”
George makes his way over to you, placing his glass on the dining room table. He doesn’t take a seat, instead he looks down at you in anger.
“She’s our friend. She’s grieving, mourning–like you and me fucking both.” George was fuming, “You were being a prick and I didn’t like it, obviously neither did Angelina. I could say more, but out of respect, I won’t.”
“George, we have to eat one way or another. I didn’t want to lose any more income than we already had!” You tried very hard to justify your reasons as to why.
“At expense of a good friend of ours? Merlin, [Y/N].” George rebutted. “I can’t even look at you right now. I know you love writing, I do. I love your writing, in fact. But, this is low. All for what? A few fucking galleons? Merlin.”
George turns his heel and stomps to the door, grabbing his coat and slamming the door shut in one swift motion. He presumably chases after Angelina to apologize on your behalf. You hang your head, trying to recollect yourself, and think about what to say to Angelina and George.
You decide right then and there that you were going to quit your job at the Daily Prophet–there was always a need for writers in the Wizarding World anyway and jobs of that sort were probably not as exploitative in nature. Deciding to write a Letter of Resignation later that night, you trudge your way to the door, grab your coat, and run after George.
--
masterlist here
#maggieswinterwritingchallenge#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter x reader#harry potter x y/n#george weasley x y/n#george weasley x reader#george weasley fanfiction#george weasley angst#george weasley#angelina johnson#fred weasley#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x y/n
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It’s Fine (It’s not fine)
@forduary week 1 is Hurt/Comfort. The one’s definitely more on the hurt side of things, but I promise there’s some comfort at the end!
Stanford Pines is six years old. He’s in his bedroom, reading quietly. He’s just getting to the climax of the adventure story he’s reading when his brother Stanley crashes into the room. It wouldn't normally be a problem, Ford is really good at tuning out the world around him while he reads, but Stan is complaining loudly.
“I’m booooooard!” The boy moans, grabbing onto the post of their bunk-bed and dangling off it dramatically.
“Whaddaya want me to do about it?” Ford asks in irritation, not looking up from his book.
“Let’s go play on the beach! Or go to the comic store! Or… or something!” Stan suggests. “Anything but just sit around here doin’ nothin’!”
It was a hot summer afternoon. Ford didn’t want to go down to the beach or the comic store when he knew for certain anywhere they went today was bound to be crowded with people. He just wanted to sit and read in his room and enjoy some time to himself.
“Can’t you go by yourself?”
“Are you kiddin’? Ma would throw a fit!”
Ford heaves a long-suffering sigh, places a bookmark to hold his place, and snaps his book shut before thumping it down on his bed.
“Well we don’t hafta go if ya don’t wanna.” Stan says lamely.
“It’s fine.” Ford assures him.
“Are you sure?”
“It’s fine.”
* * *
Stanford Pines is ten years old. He’s at recess, trying to lie low. Stan got held back for the whole half-hour because he’d been caught trying to sneak the class pet, a newt, into his backpack. This of course leaves Ford at the mercy of Crampelter and his thugs, who have little to no mercy on any given day.
“C’mon freak, fight back!” The towheaded bully taunts him, holding Ford back by the forehead as he tries to struggle past the blocking arm for his backpack, held just out of reach. “I know I seen you taking boxing lessons back at Mel’s Gym!”
“It’s ‘I saw’ or ‘I have seen’, and just b‘cuz I’m taking lessons doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to pick a fight I know I can’t win!” Ford protests.
“Pfft, you’re no fun.” Crampelter scoffs, before grabbing onto one of Ford’s hands while he continues to reach vainly for his backpack. “But y’know what does sound fun?”
“Let go of me!”
“Seeing how flexible your extra fingers are!” Crampelter starts to push Ford’s pinky finger back with his thumb, stretching it to its limit.
“Stop it! That hurts!”
But Crampelter just keeps pushing and pushing until Ford is sure some tendons are going to pop, when a shrill whistle echoes across the playground.
“Hey! Crampelter! Drop the freak!” The teacher on recess watch commands.
The bully finally lets go, and Ford stumbles to the ground, holding his injured hand close to his body.
“Here, lemme look at that.” the teacher pulls Ford’s hand away to check it. “Eh, ‘snot bleeding or broken, you’re fine.”
As they walk back from school that afternoon, Stan rants over and over that Crampelter Will Not Get Away With This, plotting various methods of revenge, most of them too fanciful to ever come to fruition.
Ford is silent the whole time, his gaze turned towards his shoes.
“Hey.” Stan suddenly stops his ranting and places a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help.”
“It’s fine.” Ford mumbles.
“I promise I’ll try not to get held in for recess again.”
“I said it’s fine.” Ford assures him, knowing that hoping Stan won’t get held back from recess again is like hoping it won’t snow in January. Technically possible, but highly unlikely.
* * *
Stanford Pines is fourteen years old. He’s a freshman in highschool, and he and his brother are in detention after he was caught letting Stan look off his algebra test.
It’s not that Ford has anything against sharing his answers with his brother. It’s not like he has any sort of moral high-ground here. It’s just that Stan is always so carelessly obvious about it!
“I said I was sorry, alright!” Stan hisses at him, trying not to draw the teacher’s attention.
“We’re not in middle school anymore, these things actually go on our record now!” Ford hisses back. “You have to be more careful!”
“Well maybe if you would actually slip me your paper instead of making me crane my neck over your desk! Nobody’s gonna notice if you hand your test in two minutes before everyone else instead of five!”
“That’d be even more obvious! Maybe if you wore your glasses for once!”
“Maybe I would, if you could hold your own in a fight!”
“What does that even have to do with anything!?”
“You don’t wear glasses in a fight, genius! That’s just asking for them to get broken! And I know I’m always having to step in and save your skin, so why would I even bother wearing them in the first place?”
“Hey!” The teacher overseeing detention snaps at them. “No talking!”
The boys shut their yapps and go back to studying, or at least pretending to study.
“I’m sorry.” Stan murmurs, once he’s sure the teacher is no longer paying attention to them.
“It’s fine.” Ford grunts back.
* * *
Stanford Pines is 17 years old. He is begrudgingly walking down to the beach with his brother.
“C’mon Ford, it’s October, there’s only a few more days of weather nice enough to work on her left! And the dumb science fair isn’t until April!”
“I still have so much research to do before I can even start!” Ford complains. “Not to mention procuring parts, testing different models--”
“That all sounds like stuff you can do once it gets cold.”
“I should be in the building phase by then!”
“Alright, look,” Stan jabs a finger in his brother’s direction. “If you wanna spend the last few warm days of the year cooped up in the library, that’s your problem. But I’m gonna enjoy the sunshine and the beach, and finish fixin’ up the Stan’o’war. We’re so close, I can practically taste the treasure and babes!”
“...Fine.” Ford grumbles.
“No, no. You go do your nerd thing. I’ll put the finishing touches on this thing we’ve been working on together since we were pipsqueaks.”
“I said it’s fine.”
* * *
Stanford Pines is 17 years old. He’s just come back from the most humiliating moment of his life (thus far). He confronts his brother, the offending evidence crinkling in his clenched fist. Stan tries to play it off like it’s not a big deal. Like he expects his brother to say It’s Fine.
It is most definitely not fine.
* * *
Stanford Pines is 20 years old. He’s showing his new roommate around their humble apartment.
“I really ‘preciate this, Stanford.” Fiddleford McGucket tells him for the sixth time that day. “Most folks wouldn’t offer to put their TA up in their apartment, ‘specially not when you’re lucky ‘nough to get yer own place!”
“Well, I’ll be starting the Doctorate program myself, next year! That makes us equals, in my mind.” Ford says proudly. “And I’m happy for the company! The only reason I have the apartment to myself is because my last roommate and I parted over… differences.”
“Heh, you too, eh?” McGucket chuckles. “Least you weren’t kicked out, like I was!”
“Why were you kicked out?”
“Oh, several reasons. I think the robot in the kitchen was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
Ford laughs. “Well, I for one would love to have a robot that does our dishes and cleans the counters.”
McGucket grins and leans against the table.. “See, I knew we’d make great roommates!”
Unfortunately, McGucket’s leaning is more than the wobbly table can take, and it tips over on its side, scattering textbooks and papers everywhere. The two friends begin cleaning up the mess, McGucket apologizing profusely.
They’ve almost finished putting everything back onto the table when Fiddleford picks up an old photo of two little boys standing before a derelict little boat.
“Well bless my soul! Is this you, Ford?”
Ford’s heart skips a beat. He hadn’t realized he left that photo lying on the table!
“Ah, yes, that’s me. That was the day I decided I wanted to be a researcher--”
“And lookit this little fellah next to ya!” Fiddleford interrupts Ford’s soliloquy. “He looks just like you! I can’t believe I’ve known you for three years, and you never told me you had a twin!”
“Er… it just-- it never came up.”
“How in tarnation does yer own twin brother never come up?” Fiddleford asks incredulously. “So, what’s his name?”
“Stanley and I are not on speaking terms.” Ford says stiffly. “I haven’t spoken to him since I was a teenager.”
A multitude of expressions dance across Fiddleford’s face before Ford can hope to interpret any of them. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He finally says.
“It’s fine.” Ford says tersely, snatching the photo back.
* * *
Stanford Pines is 21 years old. He’s trying to get a good night sleep before his first dissertation tomorrow.
Trying being the operative word.
The past year rooming with Fiddleford McGucket has been great, for the most part. Ford loves spending time with an intellectual equal. McGucket accepts all of Ford’s idiosyncrasies, and Ford accepts all those of his friend.
Well, almost all of them.
It didn’t take long after they started rooming together for Ford to realize one of the several reasons McGucket had been evicted from his last apartment had nothing to do with his penchant for robotics, and everything to do with his penchant for late-night banjo playing. As much as it cut into Ford’s sleep schedule, he didn’t have the heart to complain to his roommate about it. He knew he had plenty of his own bad habits that were difficult to deal with, like his coffee addiction, his antisocial behavior, his tendency to start a project and just leave it laying wherever he was around the apartment, and his few dozen subscriptions to cryptozoological newsletters.
The digital clock on Ford’s bedside table reads 2:20 AM when the music finally, thankfully stops. He sighs and turns over in his bed, hoping to finally fall asleep.
When he wakes in the morning, groggy as a hung-over sailor, Fiddleford at least has the decency to look apologetic.
“Sorry, did I keep ya up last night? I kinda got lost in the music an’ lost track of time.”
“It’s fine.” Ford mutters as he pours himself a large mug of the strongest coffee he can brew. This is the first roommate he’s gotten along with since… since he started college. He can put up with this.
“Well, if’n ya need me to, I can start headin’ up to the practice rooms in the assembly hall fer my jam sessions--”
“It’s fine.”
* * *
Stanford Pines is 31 years old. He’s spreading thick globs of slimy aloe vera on his hands. He’s been letting his muse take control of his body while he sleeps for about a week now. Bill says he’s not used to the limits of a physical human body. He’s injured Ford’s body just about every night so far, but last night, when he picked up the hot coffee pot by the pot instead of by the handle, was the worst by far.
“This keeps on happening, Bill. You need to be more careful.” He gently chides his muse.
“WELL HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT’D HAPPEN? WHY DIDN’T THE IDIOT WHO DESIGNED THAT THING INSULATE THE WHOLE CONTAINER INSTEAD OF JUST THE HANDLE? YOU COULD DESIGN A COFFEE POT WAY MORE EFFICIENT THAN THAT!”
Ford smiles, blushing. “Perhaps I’ll get around to modifying it someday. But for now, as I was saying, could you please be more careful with my body at night?”
“HEY, YOU’RE ACTUALLY LUCKY THIS HAPPENED. IF I HADN’T DROPPED THAT POT, I WOULD’VE TRIED DRINKING IT THE SAME WAY I DO IN MY NORMAL FORM, AND THEN YOU’D PROBABLY BE BLIND. SO WHEN YOU THINK ABOUT IT, YOU SHOULD BE THANKING ME!”
Ford pales. “Er, perhaps I should help you practice using my body first, just to decrease the risk of that sort of thing.”
“OH, I’M SORRY! DO YOU NOT WANT MY HELP? DO YOU NOT WANT TO ACHIEVE GREATNESS AS SOON AS POSSIBLE?”
“No! No of course not! That’s not what I meant!”
“DON’T FORGET, I’M DOING THIS FOR YOU, SIXER! I’M AN AGELESS BEING OF PURE ENERGY! THE ONLY REASON I’M HELPING YOU SPEED UP THE PROCESS ON BUILDING THE PORTAL IS BECAUSE I KNOW HOW PATHETICALLY SHORT YOUR MORTAL LIFE IS. YOU’RE JUST GONNA HAVE TO TRUST ME. OR ARE A FEW BUMPS AND BRUISES TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO HANDLE?”
“Of course not! It’s fine! I’m fine!” Ford insists, finishing bandaging his burns.
* * *
Stanford Pines is… probably 45? He’s not quite sure. He’s lost track of time after traveling the multiverse for so long, especially after the Do-Over Dimension.
He’s making his way through a crowded alien market, hoping to find something he’ll be able to use in his Quantum Destabilizer, and also hoping not to be recognized by any bounty hunters. It’s annoying, having to wear a hood and goggles and mask everywhere he goes, but that’s just the way it has to be now.
It’s fine.
It’s only until he can complete the Quantum Destabilizer. After that… it didn’t matter what happened after that.
It’s fine.
* * *
Stanford Pines is 62 years old. He’s sitting in a hospital bed. Despite what that may suggest, his life has finally taken a turn for the better. Bill is gone, Weirdmaggeddon is over, and, miraculously, no one died. Stanley was going to be ok. The kids didn’t hate him. He’s achieved his goal of destroying Bill Cipher, and survived! He’s fine. They’re all incredibly, wonderfully, fine.
The doctor is giving his vitals one last check before officially discharging him from the hospital. It’s obvious that under normal circumstances, Ford would not be leaving the hospital any time soon, but thanks to the incredibly persistent insistence of his family, and the fact that the hospital is already absolutely filled to the brim with people who were injured during Weirdmageddon, and the fact that Stanford was instrumental in stopping Bill, they’re making an exception.
“Alright, you’re free to go!” The doctor finally says, handing his clipboard over to Ford to sign.
“Hooray!” Mabel cheers as her uncle signs his exit papers. “Now you’ll be able to help us set up for our birthday party!” She slings an arm around his neck to hug him, completely forgetting about the thin layer of bandages around his neck. Ford can’t suppress a yelp of pain.
Mabel reels back, hands flying to her mouth. “Ohmigosh, I’m so sorry!”
“It’s fine.” Ford forces a smile.
“I wasn’t thinking!”
“Mabel, really, it’s fine.”
“Ford.” Stan says firmly. Ford recognizes the expression on his face from the last few days. It’s the look he gets on his face when he’s remembering something painful. “You gotta stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” He asks, confused.
“Saying ‘It’s fine’ when it’s not.”
Ford raises an eyebrow. “Stanley, it was just an accident. It really is fine.”
“Oh, yeah, of course this was…” Stan stammers, apparently coming back to the moment. “Mabel’s not-- this was just an honest mistake. But you say… uh, or at least, you used to say that a lot. Even when I could tell it wasn’t really fine. You gotta stop that.”
Ford shifted in his bed uncomfortably. “I’m just being polite.”
“There are ways to say things aren’t fine while still being polite.” Dipper points out.
Ford can feel himself flush. “I’m not good at that. I always come off as rude… or angry.” Saying it’s fine is just easier. He can just move on and forget about it. Control his emotions. Remove them from the equation for the time being, process them later when he’s alone, so nobody gets hurt.
Stan takes a deep breath before he speaks again. “You just gotta trust us, that we’re not gonna leave you just ‘cuz you get angry sometimes.”
Is that really what he’s been afraid of this whole time? That certainly seems to be a part of it, but not the whole. All the same, he does at least feel that he can trust his family. And he can try to be more honest with them when something is bothering him.
“I think I can do that.” he says as he gets up from the hospital bed, ready to go home.
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Fire, Fur & Mistletoe Chapter 5
Pairing- Eventual Dean x Female Reader.
Word Count- 2,497
Warning- Mentions of car accidents, fires, and alcohol. Possible swearing. Fluff.
Summary- A rewrite of the Nine Lives of Christmas, Hallmark movie. AU, Dean is a firefighter who doesn’t do commitment, the Holiday’s don’t mean much to him. Coming home after a shift he finds a dog in trouble. The reader is a veterinary student who works in a coffee shop trying to make it to graduation, until someone causes problems there for her. She isn’t interested in finding anyone other than her own dog until after she finishes school. Do their four legged friends have other plans?
A/N- This series is written for @spnchristmasbingo. The square filled for this chapter is the free space, Christmas cookies. The first two chapters will stay closer to the movie than the rest will. This has its own tag list and it is open. That way I am not tagging anyone who doesn’t want to be tagged in Christmas stories. This story is unbeta’d.
Header by the amazing @winchest09
Divider from freepngimg.com
Series Masterlist
Dean went in for a shift the next day taking Miracle with him and you went back out job and apartment hunting. Still no luck on either front. Heading home to Dakota you got out a few more Christmas decorations you had in boxes and added some in the kitchen, and up the wood staircase, being careful none of Dean's hard work got scratched.
You were heading upstairs to your apartment when the front door opened. Turning around quickly you saw a blond woman walking in who seemed almost as surprised to see you as you were to see her. Maybe Dean had found another girl to go out with and was keeping it a secret.
“Hello.” You greeted her.
“I thought Sam was joking, if I had known he wasn't I would have knocked instead of using the emergency key.”
Not entirely sure what was going on you kept quiet.
"I'm sorry I didn't catch what Sam said your name was. Like I said, I thought he was joking about Dean's girlfriend moving in."
That got your mouth semi working. "Not Dean's girlfriend, just friend. Just sleeping together. No, not sleeping, living, I mean staying. I’m staying in the apartment. I'm Y/N."
"Nice to meet you Dean's not girlfriend, I'm Jess."
"Oh your Sam's girlfriend."
"Yeah, actual girlfriend. We live and sleep together too." She says with a teasing smile.
"It's nice to meet you, Dean's told me a little about you." You told her about your eviction and Dean offering you a place to stay and the brothers moving you out.
She was extremely nice and had a very bubbly personality. She was someone who would be friends with everyone.
"I came over to look at something for Dean's Christmas present, but I don’t want to bother you.”
“No, your fine. I just put a few more Christmas decorations out, I was going back to the apartment. Do you need any help?”
“Do you know where Dean’s tools are? He was telling Sam he broke something and we were going to get him a new part for Christmas. I just need the model number.”
“Yeah, I can show you.” As you led her past the living room she froze looking inside.
“I can’t believe there is an actual tree in here, with presents underneath. In the years I’ve known Dean he doesn’t do much for Christmas at all.”
“I asked if we could, I’ve always enjoyed having a Christmas tree.”
She looks over at you. “You’re good for him, girlfriend or not I think he really needs someone like you in his life.”
You weren’t sure how to respond so you just smiled and led her down the hall.
The first half of Dean’s shift kept the guys moving. One small restaurant fire, then car accident to a residential oven fire. When things finally calmed down and it seemed like they might get a few minutes peace Dean headed to the bunks to try and get a some sleep with Miracle following along behind him. After Dean layed down he was soon joined by his faithful companion. The boys managed to get a few hours before the alarm went off again. Coming back this time they headed to the kitchen to find some food. Bobby would sneak Miracle some scraps when no one else was looking. Sitting around the table Sam turns to Dean.
“Get all your Christmas shopping done?”
“Yep, done and wrapped.”
Cas looks between the brothers, “I think I missed something, Dean went shopping?”
“Yep, Y/N got him to go to the mall with her.”
“Does this mean no gift cards this year?” Cas wanted to know.
“They sell gift cards at the mall.”
“I would laugh at that, but knowing you that’s exactly what you bought,” Sam stared at his brother.
“Have to find out when you open it.”
“Oh yeah, that’s definitely what he did.” Benny injected.
“Alright you idjits” Bobby starts talking as he walks back in. “Don’t forget the fundraiser party is in a few days. Winchesters, you both are on deserts, aka Christmas cookies. Benny and Cas have drinks, preferably not alcohol.”
“Hey Chief, why am I on desserts this year?” Sam wanted to know.
“Do you remember last year's party?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you remember last year’s egg nog at the party?”
Sam’s smile gets bigger, “Yeah.”
“That’s why. Most of these people are driving home, we don’t need them buzzed before they finish their first drink. The list the other shifts are bringing is on the bulletin board by my office.” He starts to walk away, “Oh and Dean.”
“Yes Bobby.”
“An edible dessert would be nice this year.”
“Hey, at least they looked good last year!”
Bobby left the room muttering about being surrounded by idjits on his way out.
Dean arrives home to find you going through the cupboard, “Hey, how’s it going?”
“Alright, I was just making a grocery list. Is there anything you need?”
“Yeah I actually need to pick something up, I’ll come with you.”
Getting the dogs settled the two of you are off to the grocery store. Going through the bakery section Dean stops and looks at the premade desserts. “
Holding up a package of frosted sugar cookies and one of cupcakes he turns to you.
“Do you think either of these are edible?”
“I would hope so since that is what the store is selling them for.”
“Well do you think they are any good, that they taste alright.”
“Probably, yeah. If you want one, just get it. I thought you were more of a pie lover though?”
“Oh I am, these aren’t for me. We have a fundraiser party for the station and I’m on desserts. I’m supposed to bring Christmas cookies.”
“And you want to take those with you.”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
He looks down at the cookies with such disappointment. “Okay then one of those packs instead.”
“Dean, you aren’t going to buy a pack of cookies to pass off as Christmas cookies. You need to make those.”
“Not a hundred percent sure they would be edible then. Bobby said they had to be edible this year.”
“I’ll help you don’t worry. It’s another Christmas activity for you.”
“I really think buying those on the table would be easier.”
Finishing the rest of the shopping you take Dean down the baking aisle. “So what kind of Christmas cookies were you thinking.”
“I don’t know, I was thinking whatever kind I could buy in the store.”
“Alright. How about Sugar cookies to start with. How many do you need?”
“There is usually a good number of people there. Both Sam and I are bringing them. Probably need a hundred each, maybe a few more.”
“What is this for exactly?”
“It’s a fundraiser we have down at the station. People donate toys, and other needed items. Santa is there for the kids.”
“Okay a big group of people take peanut butter out, don’t want to risk an allergy.” You thought through your mental list of Christmas goodies. “You could do the cranberry bliss bars I used to make at work, those are always a hit, and I have a recipe for white chocolate ginger cookie that’s really good. If any of those interest you?”
“You would really help me bake all that?”
“Yeah, I like baking and I have nothing else to do. Plus you are still letting me stay with you and won’t take my money when I try to pay you.”
“I’ll accept your payment in cookies.”
“Great.”
The two of you grab what you need from the aisle before heading to the checkout.
After arriving home the groceries you don’t need right now are put away. The Cranberry bar is made first, so that it can cook while you roll out the sugar cookies. He was chopping the dried cranberries into little pieces for the cake, and having way too much fun with the knife. Miracle and Dakota joined you in the kitchen hoping to catch anything that fell.
“I think the cranberries are small enough Dean.”
“Are you sure?”
“Um, yeah. Any smaller and they are just going to be red dots.”
Your plan was to keep it simple and just do round sugar cookies, but someone had other ideas.
“Where are the shape thingies?”
“What thingies?”
“You know the things that make snowmen, Santa and stockings.” Dean’s hand was going up and down in the air, almost miming cutting out cookies.
“You mean cookie cutters? I can go see if I can find mine.” Heading to the apartment you looked through the boxes to see if you could find any. Luck was on your side, finding a bag of cookie cutters and a rolling pin you made your way back to the kitchen.
He rolled it out the first time and got it so thin you swore the cookies would have burnt the moment you put them in the oven. Getting it all back in a pile you showed him how thick he wanted it to be before you started cutting out cookies. He went through the bag of cookie cutters finding the ones he wanted to use. Grabbing out a stocking, snowman, tree, and a dog bone. To his disappointment you didn’t have Santa.
“Guess, I’ll have to get one for next year.”
You watched him do a few, “Okay I have to ask, what is with the dog bone cookies, how are they Christmassy?”
“Those are in honor of Miracle. We can decorate them red and green.”
“Okay.”
When the bliss bar came out of the oven Dean came and looked it over. “Do you think it’s edible?”
“Do you mean right this minute, because it needs to cool first then it gets frosting.”
“I mean in general.”
“Yes, it’s edible. I made these at the coffee shop all the time. Why do you keep asking if things are going to be edible?”
“Bobby, the Chief, told me I needed an edible dessert this year.”
You looked at him a moment, “Okay I have to ask, what did you take before for a desert that wasn’t edible?”
“Last year I went to the store and saw this container with what looked like cutout sugar cookies. Some had frosting, some were decorated with just sprinkles. They looked really nice.”
“Uh huh. How did they taste?”
“Like bitter disappointment mixed with the tears of children.”
“Oh my.”
“They were so hard you couldn’t even bite into them and if you managed to break off a piece to eat, it had a sour taste to it. Guess that’s why they were on the sale rack.”
“That sounds,” You were trying to control your laughter. “Sounds very delightful. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to try them.”
“Yeah yeah, laugh all you want. They looked good at least.”
“You are trusted with cookies again this year? Aren’t they afraid of a repeat?”
“Apparently not as much as they were with Sam and the eggnog. He dumped a whole bottle of rum in it last year. He was moved to cookies this year.”
“Getting the guests drunk to be able to eat the food, sounds like the Winchester brothers put together an interesting Christmas party.”
Dean just laughs “Yeah we can get a little crazy now and then.”
“What do your Christmas plans usually include?”
“It’s just my sister, her husband and I. Donna is the under sheriff and some years she has to work part of the day. This year she works in the morning, and I’m volunteering at a pet adoption day in the park. Then we are having dinner at their house.
While the sugar cookies were in the oven the two of you worked on the batter for the ginger cookies.
“I’ll be honest,” Dean started to say. “I don’t like gingerbread cookies.”
“Me neither.”
“Then why are we making them?”
“We aren’t. These are ginger cookies, slightly different. I promise they are good. They will also be edible.”
Dean gave you a hard look before going back to the mixing bowl grumbling. “They smell like gingerbread cookies.”
“They smell like ginger. But if you don’t like them, you don’t have to eat them.”
While the last of the cookies were in the oven you started on the frosting for the cranberry bar. Dean kept trying to stick a finger in the bowl.
“Stop it, what are you five? You can have the bowl when the bar is done.”
“This doesn’t take like regular frosting what’s in it, cream cheese, butter, vanilla, powdered sugar, orange juice, and white chocolate. It’s the last two that make it a little different.”
“It’s actually really good.” You glared at him. “Not that I was doubting your baking abilities at all. Mine 100% doubtable, but you’re great.”
Finishing that you two moved on to the sugar cookie frosting Dean poured a little too much powdered sugar in to mix and ended up with it all over the counter and on the dogs laying at his feet. He snuck them each a cookie to make up for it. Adding some red and green food coloring to two bowls then getting sprinkles out the two of you went to town.
The last job of the night was dipping the ginger cookies in white chocolate. When one had hardened up you gave it to Dean to try.
“I’m not sure I want that, I would rather have pie.”
“Just a bite, if you don’t like it you don’t have to eat it.”
“Fine.” Taking a bite he chews for a minute. “Actually they aren’t bad, the chocolate tames some of the flavor.”
As the two of you worked together to clean up the kitchen, Dean suggested ordering dinner so you wouldn't have to clean up another mess tonight.
“Sure, that’s fine with me.”
While he was gone to grab dinner you took out a few other items you bought at the store. Quickly whipping up a pie crust you grabbed the cans of filling. Just not enough time tonight to make some. Putting some crumble topping on, the pie was in the oven before Dean made it back.
When he walked in a short time later he came in the kitchen with his nose in the air.
“The cookies make it smell really good in here, I didn’t notice that earlier.”
“That’s not all the cookies, I may have a cherry pie in the oven for you.”
Oh his eyes go so big. “Really?”
“Yeah, you’ve been talking about one lately.”
“Man, you are amazing.”
Finishing dinner you took the pie out to cool. That lasted about five minutes before Dean cut himself a giant slice.
Trying to get some work on the house done the two of worked together painting one of the spare bedrooms before the four of you headed to the living room to watch tv.
Thank you for reading!
Chapter 6
Tags- @winchest09 @waywardbeanie @whatareyousearchingfordean @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @jensengirl83 @abuavnee @lunarmoon8 @amyzombie1013 @akshi8278 @that-one-gay-girl @mandalou29 @igotmadskills @440mxs-wife @paryl @supernatural-love14 @krazykelly @anotherspnfanfic @bobbie3939 @deanwinchestersnightmoves @winchestergirl2 @thoughts-and-funnies
#fire fur & mistletoe#dean winchester#spnchristmasbingo#dean x female!reader#dean x reader#firefighter dean winchester#supernatural
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Qui Totum Vult Toum Perdit (d.s.) - 7
A/N Guilty or generous
Warnings: This story is centered around a murder so there will be graphic descriptions of blood, death/manslaughter, dealing with corpses, possible domestic abuse (physical/verbal), crime/covering up a crime, shock/grief, and other possibly heavy or triggering topics. Please read at your own discretion.
One thing my parents always taught us while we were growing up was, when traveling, to never stay at the cheapest hotel. By no means should we break the bank to stay at a five-star resort but there was usually nothing good that came out of the cheapest option. I could see what they meant as Jonah and I climbed the metal stairs of the Lincoln Motel, the white paint peeling from the handrails and the steps creaking with each footfall. Once having been on the cover of Forbes, I no longer really needed to follow that guidance that my parents engrained in us since I could afford all the five-star hotels and resorts I so desired to stay at.
I mean, to be brutally fair, dear reader, my parents also taught us not to murder our spouses; so who knew how many lessons of theirs I had ignored in my lifetime.
I triple checked that my car was locked as we reached the top of the flight of stairs and headed down the carpeted outdoor hallway. Anyone who uses carpet outside should honestly not be trusted. This place already left a bad feeling in my stomach. Would saying it gave me murder house Psycho vibes be in poor taste? Possibly? Then please disregard that statement.
Number nineteen was right in the middle of the hallway. The brass number nine was set slightly crooked on the door. I caught myself tilting my head with its direction as if I were trying to stall. I swear if the person on the other side of the door slept with my wife I…I didn’t know what I would do but the thought of it made me sick.
“Are you going to knock?” Jonah tore me from my thoughts.
I swallowed thickly, “Yeah.”
I raised my fist to the orange painted door and rapped a quick knock before taking a little step back. I habitually glanced over the railing to make sure no one was getting too close to my car.
The sound of the door creaking open had me turning back quickly to see who was on the other side. I expected a man and that’s who I was met with, simply the first glance of him making my jaw clench protectively.
He was short. Brown hair. Brown eyes. His patterned button up was undone halfway. Arms and neck littered in random tattoos. I eyed him up for a moment.
“Can I help you?” he asked, an obvious confused edge to his voice.
“Yeah, do you know an Avalon Seavey?” I pushed back at him strongly. I couldn’t help but straighten up around him just to have those few inches above him.
“Avalon? Yeah, I know her enough. Why?” he looked between Jonah and me.
I took off my sunglasses and tucked them in the collar of my shirt to see him better in the shadow of the motel balcony.
“I’m her husband.”
“Daniel.” he breathed with realization, his eyebrows raising as he stared at me.
“Yeah. Daniel. Who are you?” I asked sharply.
Jonah didn’t intervene through my anger, in fact, he looked just as concerned as I felt. I appreciated his willingness to let me have my moment to interrogate this guy.
“I’m Jack. How did you find me here?”
“I found your address in her phone.” I added.
“Oh, what a nice non-toxic relationship you have.” Jack mumbled.
“Excuse me?” I took a quick step towards him but Jonah grabbed my arm and yanked me back.
“I was not sleeping with your wife if that’s what you’re here getting all macho protective douche-bag about.” Jack assured me coolly. “We had nothing more than a professional relationship.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, staring at Jack’s unimpressed flat expression. He didn’t seem to be one to be phased by anything.
“Professional over what?” I pressed.
“Does Avalon know you’re here?” he ignored my question while he peeked around me as if to see her down the hallway or in the parking lot below.
I didn’t flinch as he looked around me. Little did he know that she was in fact right there with us.
“She’s dead.” Jonah answered.
I hadn’t realized I hadn’t replied to him for a few too many seconds but Jonah’s blunt response certainly brought be back to reality. I snapped my head towards him. Since when did we agree we were going to be telling people that?
“Oh.” Jack said flatly. “That sucks. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah…well…I wanted to see who you were…so…” I stumbled out ungracefully, rubbing the back of my neck anxiously with one hand. I dropped it with a sigh to my side again, “We’ll be going.”
“Hang on. Come in for a second.” Jack offered, stepping to the side and pushed the door open wider to let us on. “I gotta show you something.”
Jonah and I glanced at each other briefly before silently deciding to follow him into the motel room. I peeked over my shoulder to my car down in the lot once more before stepping over the threshold.
Jack seemed to sense my hesitation as he closed the door behind us, “I won’t keep you long. A nice car like that won’t last long around here unsupervised.”
I swallowed thickly, watching him walk across the messy motel room to the closet. Jonah and I stood just inside the door and the first thing I noticed was the bright teal wallpaper that even covered the ceiling, so bright and neon it was nearly blinding and it did not match the dark red floral print carpet at all. The bed had red bedsheets and a dark mahogany headboard that was more 1960s mirror panel than wood and beside it sat a single small round table with a fold out chair and a rotary phone on top. The bathroom sink and light oak vanity was outside of the bathroom in the main room which right away was another turn off to this already run-down place. I was no decorator, dear reader, but the sight of this motel room was nearly nauseating. And that’s said by someone who had a dead body stashed in their car trunk.
As Jack shuffled through the bi-fold closet for whatever he was looking for, I took a moment to take in my surroundings for more than just the initial shock of colour and pattern vomit that filled the place. The neon 80s themed picture above the bed was of the New York skyline which was strange since we were in Los Angeles, and the fact that there were two more mahogany framed mirrors along the other walls was unsettling. I tried not to meet my own reflection.
Jack had a suitcase laid out beside the mahogany dresser and it was tossed open and clothes were haphazardly thrown about it but the suitcase wasn’t the only spot for fabrics as every other available surface – including the small table in the corner – housed various piles of fabric scraps and scissors and pins and needles. The worst of it was the few bare mannequins laying under the window adjacent to the door.
“So…” I started slowly, turning back to Jack whose back was still turned to us, “How did you know my wife?”
“My business.” Jack answered. He pulled a jacket on a hanger from the back of the closet and dropped it on the table right on top of all the scraps and pins and mess. He grabbed one of the many pairs of scissors that were scattered around and snipped a few things that I couldn’t see from where we stood.
His dry answers to our questions had Jonah and I more suspicious as the time went past but we waited to give the guy the benefit of the doubt.
Jack finally turned around with a small smile and picked up the hanger to turn and face the black denim jacket towards us, “I’m a bit of a fashion designer I guess you can say and Avalon found my page on Instagram a few months back and she got in touch with me about making you a custom jacket.”
I didn’t know what to say. In all the words I could use, perfect was the only one that came to my mind as I stared at the jacket in his hand. Someone might see it as a mess of things but it was just my taste; chaos enough to pass as designer even. It housed red x’s painted over the right shoulder and a single white stripe down the left side that matched my surname on the bottom right front panel. He made sure to show each of the denim sleeves, cuffed at the bottom in black and red plaid and the left wrist had ‘honey’ printed in small white font – the nickname I always called her. The other sleeve had matching vertical white font spelling out ‘Only the Beginning’ which was the name of Jonah and my very own record company; the company that always caused the most hostility between Avalon and me. Jack finally turned the jacket around to show the back, the shoulder section sewn over with a lace that looked a hell of a lot like Avalon’s wedding dress and I found myself stunned into shocked silence. It was incredible.
I walked into that motel with no hopes of any sort but what I seemed to find amidst those disgusting teal walls was better than I ever could have expected.
I took a step forward to take the jacket from him, grazing the sleeve ever so gently with my fingers as if it were going to break under my touch. Jack passed it over and helped me slide it on to make sure it fit. He brushed his hands over my shoulders and down my back to smooth it out and directed me to one of the many mirrors that were glued to the motel wall.
“That jacket is fresh.” Jonah said.
“It’s…gorgeous.” I agreed softly, turning slightly to see the back in the mirror.
Jack spoke next as he watched me admire his work, “She worked me into the ground for this one. I kept having to restart because she kept saying it wasn’t perfect enough…I lost a fuck ton of materials and money through that…ended up getting evicted from my place because I wasn’t earning money to pay rent which is why I’m living in this shithole now but…she was adamant. Said it had to be perfect for you. We were going to meet up one last time once you two got back from your trip but…” he faded out with a sigh.
I turned to him, “You were evicted?”
“Oh,” Jack shrugged as if it was no big deal and sat down on the end of the bed, “Yeah. She said she couldn’t pay me right away and I assured her it was no big deal but then when money got tight I felt badly to ask for an advance. She was my only client, ya know? She worked me hard enough anyway to pass as my only customer but…with no pay…landlord ended up kicking me out and this was the cheapest place in the whole county. It’s such an absolute fucking dump here that my daughter isn’t allowed to come visit me until I get back on my feet…court said something about unfit living situations or some bullshit. Not like my ex needs anymore reasons to talk shit.”
“Shit…bro…I’m sorry.” I breathed.
“What can ya do?” Jack shrugged, sucking his teeth with a shake of his head. He stood up from the end of the bed, offering a dry, “She’s dead now anyway so…”
I turned to Jonah who gave me a look as if to just get out of there but I looked back in the mirror at the jacket I wore.
Goddammit.
I spoke to Jack through the mirror, “Do you take PayPal?”
Detective Team: @jonahlovescoffee @randomlimelightxxx @stuffofseaveyy @hopinglimelight @tempus-ut-luceant @br4nd1s @xkelsev @hiya-its-amber @sexyseavey15
#🔪#daniel seavey#why dont we#jonah marais#jack avery#zach herron#daniel seavey fanfic#why dont we fanfic
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Let’s Marvin Gaye and Get These Lizards Out || Rosalyn & Luce
Timing: Backdated to April 21st, 2021
Tagging: @truecolorcollector & @divineluce
Location: Rosalyn’s Apartment
Description: Rosalyn needs help evicting some unexpected roommates, Luce offers a hand. Chaos ensues.
Was Luce the most in touch with nature? Not really. Not in the conventional sense, at least. She hiked, she’d lived in the woods, she felt more comfortable out in her cabin surrounded by the sounds of the forest than she did other places. But she wasn’t a tree hugging hippy or deluded enough into thinking that nature was all sunshine and rainbows. She’d been chased down by too many monsters in the woods to think that. Either way, it didn’t really matter if she was some nature girl or not-- she knew fire salamanders. And more importantly, she was still fireproof. Her flames might have left her, but at least she still had that. Grabbing the hamster cage from her passenger seat, Luce made her way to the apartment building and texted the number to let the woman know she was here. As the door swung open, Luce held up the cage and nodded, “Someone looking for lizard removal?”
Rosalyn had been eating lunch at her small dining room table when she saw something skitter across the floor out of the corner of her eye, nearly making her choke on her sandwich. Her first instinct was to grab her glass of water to chuck it at the creature. Luckily for it, it managed to quickly scramble under a large cardboard box and Rosalyn stopped herself before she could dump water all over her stuff. Then the text came in, as if on queue, and Rosalyn rushed downstairs
“Perfect timing!” Rosalyn said slightly frazzled from running to get the door. “And I’m not being hyperbolic. I actually managed to see where one of them went.” With that, she motioned for Luce to follow and made her way up the steps to her apartment.
The apartment was nice, if a bit cluttered, a good portion of the large living area taken up by an L-shaped work desk and large shelves packed with boxes and other containers. Not to mention several moving boxes still strewn about.
“Sorry, that wasn’t really a proper greeting.” Even as Rosalyn spoke she was scanning the room for signs of any other lizards. “Rosalyn Holt. And you’re Luce?���
A blonde woman who Luce didn’t recognize opened the door and ushered her in quickly. “Oh hey, lucky me.” Luce said as she looked around the apartment, taking in the moving boxes and slight disarray of the space. No wonder she didn’t look familiar-- this lady must have just moved into town. And already her place was infested with fire salamanders? Christ, that sucked. Not everyone had fireproof houses like she did. Looking around, Luce could already spot a few places that Iggy would love if he was here. A bunch of crumpled up packing paper, perfect kindling for a nice warm fire. Some flattened cardboard boxes that would be excellent material to chew on. Setting down the cage, Luce held out a hand, “Yep. Luce Vural, unofficial sa-- specialty lizard wrangler.” She said with a nod. “Seems like White Crest is giving you a nice warm welcome with these guys.”
Surveying the area, she asked, “Do you have a fireplace? Lizards. They like warmth-- starting a fire could draw them out.” Yeah, it’d sure as hell draw them out, they’d want to get it on in the coals. _
As Roslyn shook the woman’s hand she tried not to get distracted by the mirage-like purple shimmer rising off of Luce like heat off of blacktop. In her rush upstairs she hadn’t even noticed until, not until they were standing in the living room with Luce looking around. So this woman was a spellcaster? That was promising.
“Go figure the landlord wouldn’t mention the springtime roommates I’d be getting. And I’ve got-” Rosalyn looked towards her kitchen with a sigh. “An oven. And matches. Not sure if that works for whatever you're planning but I’m not exactly eager to set my fire alarms off if we can avoid it.”
As she finished speaking a rustling sound came from near one of the shelves, close to where she saw the lizard duck under the box. She pointed. “Oh right. Lucky me, one of them decided to get into my supplies. Anything else that draws them out? Food? What do those things even eat?” The rustling grew louder and Rosalyn furrowed her brow. They better not have a taste for jewelry supplies and werewolf fur, otherwise this was about to turn into a much more expensive problem.
“If it makes you feel better, this sorta thing doesn’t happen often. It’s like cicadas. Some springs they’re super active and other times no dice. Guess you just happened to move in during a bad year.” Luce said, not entirely sure if what she was saying was true or not. Iggy was being a little more antsy than normal, trying to get free from his terrarium more than he usually did. But, Bea’s house had wards around it that made the bracelet around her wrist ping when people came or left, so she’d always been able to scoop him back up when he’d scuttled off the property line. “Hm. In the interest of not blowing both our ears out, I think I’ll try something different.” She said, rummaging around in the cage for the paper bag she’d shoved in there.
“I’ve got something that might work. It could lure them out.” Luce said. Iggy, like most growing fire salamanders, shed his scales. And Luce didn’t know much about animals, but hey. Maybe the smell of a fire salamander in the prime of his life would lure out some of the lady salamanders? Who the fuck knew. Worst came to worst, she’d just shake the boxes and try to grab them. But, as luck would have it, before she even had a chance to shake some of the scales out into the cage, Rosalyn had pointed out a rustle of movement. Setting the cage down, Luce began to poke around the boxes, eyes focused on any kind of movement. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tell-tale glimmer of scales and she darted forward, hand closing around a squirming, scaly body. “Gotcha! Hey! Knock it off!” She gasped as the fire salamander’s scales glowed the color of coals. If she was a normal human, it would have burnt her skin, but all she felt was a light warmth. The fire salamander stared at her as though it was startled she wasn’t hopping up and down in pain. “I’ve got one. Can you grab the cage for me?”
“So just something that I’ll keep having to deal with every couple of years, that sounds lovely.” Rosalyn's tone was joking but she certainly hoped that one lizard extraction was all she would need. As Luce pulled out a paper bag she quirked up an eyebrow, curious. “What’s in there?”
But before she could find out there was more rustling and Luce was off to search the area. The sight of her grabbing the glowing creature in her hands made Rosalyn flinch before she realized that Luce wasn’t smoking or shouting in pain. “So they really are fiery...” I mean, there were clearly signs that they weren’t some normal pest before this, but seeing the unnatural glow up close made it clear. Rosalyn watched the squirming creature curiously. It was rare that she got to see supernatural animals up close.
“Is that thing not as hot as it seems, or do you just have some tricks up your sleeve?” Rosalyn shot Luce a knowing look as she brought the cage over. Well that was one down. Hopefully just one more to go. She didn’t want to think about the idea of any more than two hidden around her place.
“Only if you’re unlucky. These guys don’t usually hang out in this part of town.” Luce said as she kept her hand clamped around the squirming salamander in her hand. She could tell that they weren’t exactly to have their time interrupted. She couldn’t blame the salamander-- she wouldn’t exactly be thrilled if someone barged into her room when she was trying to get it on. But, this was better than Rosalyn accidentally murdering two horny salamanders with a hose. “Fiery? Nah… Just, uh,” Luce looked again at the angry glow of the salamander’s body, the red and orange pulsing like the coals of a fire. “Trick of the light.” She said before gently sticking the salamander into the cage.
Opening up the bag of shed scales, Luce dumped some into her palm before scattering them on the ground. “Scales, from the same kind of lizard. They release a kind of pheromone when they’re trying to hook up, so I figure this might lure the other one out.” She said before glancing over at the other woman and holding up her hands, arms bare in her tank top. “No sleeves and no tricks either.” She said with a neutral tone. “I’m just good with lizards.”
“Do tricks of the light normally smell like burning?” Rosalyn asked with a quirked eyebrow. At least she could trust it wasn’t that hot, or the cage Luce was holding would be having a much worse time. Then again, she knew little about what this creature was capable of, or Luce for that matter.
“So you’ve had your own infestation before?” Rosalyn asked before grimacing as the scales fell against her hardwood floors. She hoped Luce didn’t expect her to pick that up herself. Then again... “Are these creatures rare? Or their scales at least? Just asking since you seem to know a lot about them.” Right now they seemed just like little black specks, but she wondered how easy it would be to get them to glow like the angry one in Luce’s hand had been. But if they were worth something Rosalyn couldn’t imagine a spellcaster just scattering them around for bait.
Well, Rosalyn had a point there. Luce shrugged, knowing when she was caught in a lie. No point trying to pretend like shit wasn’t magical as hell when this lady didn’t seem all that bothered by it. “Touché.” She said as she looked around the house, waiting to see where the next salamander might pop out from. “Nope, never dealt with an infestation before, I have one myself.” Luce said as she nudged some cardboard boxes aside, looking around for the other salamander. At the question of rarity, Luce cocked an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?” They weren’t rare at all-- the salamanders, or their scales, but it was a weird question all the same. All signs were pointing to the fact that this lady was in the know with the supernatural. Which, cool. Good for her. Luce just couldn’t help but wonder what brand of strange she was. She looked human, but pretty much everyone did under the right circumstances.
Out of the corner of her eye, Luce caught sight of some of the boxes rustling and she grinned. Nice, looked like the scales had worked. “Come here little guy,” She said, shifting the boxes out of the way. As she pulled the last one back, Luce blinked as she was face to face with a spitting, sparking salamander, the frill around its throat puffed out and a deep scarlet color, “Ah shit…” She muttered as the salamander burnt a hole straight through the cardboard boxes and began to skitter across the floor in a trail of sparks and sputtering flames.
“So...as a pet?” Rosalyn didn’t like to judge (okay she did sometimes) but a flaming lizard seemed like a less than ideal pet. She was about to answer Luce’s question to her when nearby rustling distracted both of them. While Luce pushed around the boxes Rosalyn picked up a bit of scale from the floor and looked it over. But she barely had time to inspect it before she heard cursing and smelled smoke.
Rosalyn's first instinct was to rush toward the now on fire boxes. Or try to at least. But before she could even move a streak of black and orange rushed across the floor towards her feet. Rosalyn shrieked as she stumbled back, nearly falling as the creature hissed and charged towards the nearby kitchen.
A slew of curses came out of Rosalyn’s mouth as she watched the thing leave singe marks in its wake. But her attention quickly turned back towards the boxes. In any other moment Rosalyn would have been fully aware of how dumb it was to try to kick out the flames. But the moment she smelt burning hair she knew the fire was spreading to the bottom shelf and panic took over. “Fire extinguisher! Under the sink!” She shouted to Luce. Rosalyn would grab it herself if she wasn’t too busy pulling boxes from the shelf before they could catch and stomping on embers. A few burns were worth not losing her entire stock.
As much as Luce would have liked to correct Rosalyn on the fact that no, it wasn’t like a pet at all, she was a bit preoccupied. The fire salamander was hissing and spitting,hell bent on tearing up the apartment as it ran along the floors. Sparks filled the air as the lizard made a break for the kitchen. Staring at the boxes that had caught on fire, Luce’s eyes widened. Shit. She was pretty fireproof, but with her magic being what it was… she didn’t want to risk trying to smother the flames with her hands. Taking a deep breath in, she tried to pull the fire to her will, tried to focus on the magic within her. But, the magical flames lay dormant, unmoving. Cold. Fuck.
“Fire extinguisher, okay!” Luce called out, following the salamander into the kitchen. The creature had climbed up onto the countertop via a dish towel that had been hanging from the oven. The fabric was already in flames and Luce let out a startled yelp as the fire leaped to a nearby roll of paper towels. Jesus fucking christ, was this what normal people dealt with? Shit just bursting into flames? Running to the sink, Luce grabbed the fire extinguisher from underneath. She pulled the pin from the neck and aimed the nozzle at the ball of flaming paper towels before tossing the dish towel on the ground and stomping it out with her foot. The salamander, seeing the flames going out, let out a frightened shriek and its frills shrank back into its neck. “I’m not trying to hurt you! Get back--” Luce said as the salamander made a bee-line back to the living room, towards Rosalyn. Even from here, Luce could smell the acrid scent of burning hair filling the room. Jesus, why the fuck did this lady have hair in the boxes?
Pulling what she could from the lower levels of the shelf was only going to help Rosalyn so much if the fire kept spreading. She turned to shout at Luce to hurry, but as she looked towards the kitchen she could see the woman shooting the fire extinguisher at even more flames. Not even a few weeks into moving to White Crest and was she already going to have her entire apartment burn down?
It was at this point that the fire alarm started blaring above them. Rosalyn wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or curse that this apartment didn’t have built in sprinklers. She kicked the still burning boxes across the floor, away from where all her creature parts and craft items were being stored. As she did she could hear Luce attempting to reason with the creature, and then moments later Rosalyn was again being charged by the fiery monster.
No way in hell she was grabbing that thing the way that Luce had. In panic Rosalyn grabbed one of the shoebox sized plastic containers she kept jewelry pliers and other small tools in and flipped it over onto the creature. She crouched on the floor, putting her weight on the plastic box as she heard the creature hiss and felt it ram itself against the plastic sides. The plastic was partially opaque, but she could still see the glowing orange of the creature inside. And feel the box start to heat up as whiffs of melting plastic started to hit her nose.
“Can’t you just dump water on it!”
A fire witch using a fucking fire extinguisher, Jesus. And, even as she was putting out the last of the flaming dish rag, Luce could hear the fire alarms begin to blare in her ears. Great, more chaos. Looking around the kitchen, Luce saw a glass pitcher of water resting on counter as Rosalyn shouted at her. “Water kills them! I’m not killing him for wanting to get it on!” Luce shouted back at the woman. But… the pitcher. Hm. Grabbing the pitcher, she dumped the water down the sink and raced back into the other room. It looked even more like a disaster zone, with tools flung over the place and boxes still burning. But, she needed to focus on the source of the fire, where was-- her eyes fell on the woman struggling on top of a rapidly melting plastic tub.
“Here,” Luce set the fire extinguisher next to the woman, “For the boxes. Take the tub off him and back up. Don’t. Spray. The salamander. I’m going to stick him in this.” She said, holding up the glass pitcher. “They have a hard time climbing out of glass and it’s not that easy to melt through it. Just let him out and I’ll grab him.”
“He is burning my apartment down!” Yes, Rosalyn would shame this stupid lizard for being horny if it meant her entire livelihood was set ablaze because of it. Not to mention the danger her and Luce were in if this got more out of hand. Luckily Luce seemed to have a plan. For a moment Rosalyn glanced between the pitcher and the plastic container under her, debating whether she trusted Luce to scoop it up in time before the creature ran off to another part of her home to cause chaos. But with a quick nod to Luce she pulled the tub off of the lizard and grabbed the extinguisher instead.
As soon as she did Rosalyn started spraying the boxes, and the bottom shelf for good measure. Did fire extinguisher foam mess with the magic properties of werewolf and bugbear fur? Who fucking knew but it didn’t matter at this point. As the flames were put out Rosalyn glanced back towards the other woman, praying she wouldn’t see her chasing the thing around again.
Rosalyn had a point there. God, was this what being a normal human in White Crest was like? Having to worry about shit like fires burning down your home? But, Luce didn’t have much time to dwell on that because the tub had been pulled off the salamander and suddenly she was face to face with an angry salamander, frills puffed out and a vibrant red. Before he could run away, Luce grabbed the squirming creature in her hand and shoved it into the bottom of the pitcher. Fingers smoking slightly, Luce shook out her hand as she watched the salamander scrabble against the side of the pitcher. But, just like she’d guessed-- because it really was a fucking guess, she wasn’t an expert-- he was unable to get any traction. Exhausted, the salamander slumped in the bottom of the glass, leftover droplets of water sizzling against his scales as he stared angrily at her with beedy, orange eyes.
Letting out a sigh, Luce held up the pitcher. “Got him! Sorry about,” She glanced around at the smoke filled apartment, the fire alarms still blaring, extinguisher foam coating at least a quarter of this woman’s apartment. “All of that. You’re okay though, right?”
Rosalyn let out a sigh of relief when she heard Luce shout that she got him. Placing the used up extinguisher on the ground (great, now she would need to buy a new one) she ran her hands down her face, giving herself a moment to just breathe and not look at the utter mess in front of her.
“I’m fine. I think I might have burned my hands a little but-” Rosalyn could see a few blisters forming along her palm and fingertips. Nothing that wouldn’t heal with time but something that would make picking up everything and crafting a pain in the ass for a while. “I’m fine. But you wouldn’t happen to have-” Healing magic. She wanted to ask about healing magic but she tried to be careful about outing people’s powers on the spot. Then again, they were both past the point of dealing with anything a normal person should be handling.
“Magic. Do you have anything that can heal? Your hands seemed pretty protected and,” Rosalyn waved vaguely at the shimmering purple around Luce that only she could see. “I can tell. Don’t worry, I’m used to spellcasters.”
The salamander continued to skitter up the side of the pitcher, but the sloping sides were too steep and he eventually gave up and curled into glowing ball of orange and red in the bottom of the glass. Luce lowered the pitcher carefully, watching to see how the female salamander in the cage might react. The creature blinked at her with interest, but didn’t show any of the aggression the male had. Good. Turning to Rosalyn, Luce grimaced at the sight of the woman’s hands. “Ouch. Sorry about that.” She said with a shrug as she picked up the cage in her free hand. “Aloe might help. Burn cream too.” That was what people said, right?
But, at the mention of magic, Luce nearly dropped the cage. “Siktir,” She swore quietly, catching the cage before the salamander could break free. “Uh. No. I don’t. And that’s not me pretending that I’m not a witch.” She said, shrugging. “You saw me pick them up. But, no, I don’t have anything that can heal burns.” All her life, her mother had been the one to patch her up, to fix her scrapes and bruises. But she didn’t have that card in her back pocket anymore. At least… She didn’t. This lady, if she knew about spellcasters, she’d probably be alright. Right? And she’d gotten hurt because Luce hadn’t been careful enough. “I know someone who would be able to help you, though. Her name’s Nisa Vural. You might have seen ads about her acupuncture clinic. She does magical healing stuff too. Tell her a friend in silver sent you. And,” Luce said, her voice taking on a more serious tone, “Don’t, don’t tell her that I sent you.
“Mhhm.” If she wanted to lie to Rosalyn about having magic she certainly could. Maybe people in White Crest were a bit more cagey than she was used to back home. Not that the spellcasters she met in the city weren’t, but most wouldn’t try to hide what they were if they were willing to do magical stuff in the same room as her.
“Nisa Vural, a friend in silver, got it.” Rosalyn smiled. “Don’t worry, I'm good with discretion.” Maybe not the best statement to make after calling out the woman’s aura but it was true. She wasn’t one to go around telling others things they didn’t need to know. Not unless there was a good reason for it. If anyone asked, Luce was a normal person who had definitely not told her about possible healing magic.
Rosalyn glanced around at the destruction but quickly stopped herself. If she took stock now she was going to want to pull her hair out and Luce didn’t need to see her freaking out over the state of the apartment. “Thanks for the help. Do you have a plan for what to do with them?” she asked, motioning toward the cage.
“Appreciate it. A little bit of discretion goes a long way in this town.” Luce said with a firm nod. It was true. As often as weird shit happened here, they all had to just go along pretending like White Crest was just a quirky little town. “But yeah. She’ll be able to get you fixed up no problem.” She repeated, though the words made her ache. It had been over six months since she and her sisters had been excommunicated, banished from their coven and blotted out from their own family. And even though she’d seen her mother, had tested the bond of mother and child over duty and oaths to the coven… Luce didn’t want to push it. The less Nisa knew about what was going on in her life, the better.
Seeing how Rosalyn was looking around the apartment, Luce winced. Her place looked like… well, it looked like shit. Burnt boxes, dissolving foam leaving smears of chalky white against the floor, and the alarms still screeching overhead. “I’m going to release them in the woods, I know a place that should be safe for them.” A gully at the end of a creek that ran through the outskirts, a nice damp spot that would be perfect for the lovebugs.
“I’d offer to stick around and help clean up, but I get the feeling you want these guys outta here right now.” She said and shrugged. “Let me know if you ever need help again. I know a thing or two about stuff here, I can lend a hand if you need it.” With that, Luce headed out the door of the apartment, fire salamanders in tow. She couldn’t help but wonder how the woman had clocked her as a witch, but… it didn’t matter right now. The cage in her hand rattled as the female salamander sent a wave of sparks in the air. “If you light my Jeep on fire, you’ll wish I let that lady dump water on you guys.” She warned before sticking the salamanders in her car and speeding off.
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Hey there, loves.
I debated posting this over and over and over for about a week or so simply because I feel guilty for asking for help because there are so many other people in the world who need it more than I do. I've always absolutely hated asking for help, and I've always been the type of person to literally suffer in silence rather than bother someone by asking for their help, even if it’s offered. That’s just who I am. I also just know that there are so many people suffering right now, and it seems unfair of me to ask for help when I’m so much more privileged than a lot of people out there. It’s embarrassing and it makes me feel guilty but honestly if anyone out there is willing to help it would mean the world.
I, like just about everyone else in the world, am struggling a ton with this pandemic! Things are really scary right now, and my usually happy, positive, optimistic self has been a bit.... under the weather because of it. The stress of wondering if we’re going to lose our jobs, on top of the world feeling like it’s falling apart, along with our ‘leaders’ refusing to actually lead and keep our world safe for all who inhabit it, along with the fact that we just found out that my mother needs heart surgery, is really just a lot to take in and cope with.
We’re might have to sell our second car to be able to keep ourselves afloat, but after that we don’t know where we’ll be financially. We don’t know if we’ll be evicted, we don’t know if we’ll be able to pay the bills, we don’t even know if in a month's time we’ll be able to feed ourselves. Now, I am a natural worrier and overall someone who has high functioning anxiety, but I usually will keep my head up and remember that everything happens for the reason. I can’t help but think what is the reason for this? It feels like my heart is breaking for this world, for the humans that inhabit it, for the animals that inhabit it, for the plants and oceans and mountains and everything else that are and will be affected by this. I’m wishing there was something I could do but I’m just one person who’s struggling myself. On top of the pandemic, my anxiety and depression have really plummeted, my severe asthma has started acting up, and on top of that my mom needs heart surgery of all things. She has a 2 ½ inch cyst on her heart that needs to be removed as soon as possible.
There are a ton a ton a ton of other things that you could be putting your mind and money towards, but if you’ve got anything to spare, I would be so incredibly thankful. I’m so sorry that the world is the way it is, I’m sorry that I’m having to do this, I know we’ll get past this but as for right now it’s just really difficult to see the light.
At times like these when it quite literally feels like the world is crumbling beneath our very feet, something that I always try to remember is, and this is so nerdy, Samwise Gamgees speech in the Lord of the Rings. Here is that same speech that always reminds me that things are going to be okay.
“FRODO: I can’t do this, Sam.
SAM: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy. How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something. Even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t. Because they were holding on to something.
FRODO: What are we holding on to, Sam?
SAM: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.”
I know, I know, nerd alert. But hey, lord of the rings is my comfort series, kay? Something game of thrones wish it was. Anyways! I know that we’ll get past this, I know a new day will come, I know that this darkness will pass. While the darkness has really really really been beating me down recently, I know that we’ll be okay. I just need a little help right now.
Once again, if you can’t donate anything, please please do not feel guilty. We’re all here in the same boat trying to stay above the surface. If you can, anything helps, and I’m telling you right now that I will seriously forever be in your debt.
Here is my PayPal!
Anyways, thank you so much for taking the time to read this and share this. 🥺💖
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Sexual Perv - Revenge is Sweeter When They Don't Know It's You
So this is a story about a guy I considered a friend. To this day, he has absolutely no idea that I am the main person who exposed him and I hope to keep it that way.
The main characters in this story are Myself, Badass Pilot, Girlfriend1, Girlfriend2 and Girlfriend3, Young Female Pilot, and a bunch of other randos needed to fill out the story. I witnessed most of this myself, but I also included details from other people who witnessed things when I was not there. I fully trust the sources of the reports.
So Badass Pilot is a pilot, as the name suggests, but he doesn't work for an airline. He started teaching at a flight school in his 20s but decided to strike out on his own because, as he told everyone else, he could do it better. He spends the next few years trying to destroy the reputation of his first employer. Badass Pilot is a very likeable guy and lots of people think he's awesome and believe him. I am one of them.
Now when he starts out, he drives a super shitty car, doesn't have an office, gets evicted from his apartment for not paying rent, and so on. But people like him and they help him set up a school and help fix it up, and generally give him a hand. Every once in a while people get pissed off at him because he does shitty things to other people, but his circle of friends defend him and just think he's great. He tells these pretty whopping tales, he's funny, and people naturally like to be with him. A lot of his stories have made-up details designed to put other people down, but he tells them in a highly entertaining way. His behavior is a bit crazy, and some of the reason people hang out with him is that he will do crazy stuff that is not normal, plus now he throws good parties.
He also has this cute girlfriend, Girlfriend1, and they end up living together. To be clear, she is pretty cool, definitely not a raging B, is fun, throws him a huge party for his 30th birthday, and so on. Now, while he's with Girlfriend1, he is still coming on to other women when she's not looking. A couple of times I have seen him totally love bomb a hot girl, usually someone in a vulnerable position like if he knows she's going through a bad breakup. He showers them with attention, gets them totally interested in him, says Girlfriend1 cheated on him, they're on a break, or some other such story that isn't true. He sleeps with them, and then he ghosts them and says they're crazy, and does anything else he can to get rid of them so Girlfriend1 doesn't get suspicious. As an example, after he cheated on Girlfriend1 with one girl, she tried to get in touch with him after he ghosted her, which is a actually a reasonable thing to do. Instead of talking to her himself, Badass Pilot lied and told everyone she was crazy and was stalking him, reported her to his friends at the police department, and had the police call her and tell her to shove off. On top of that, he also starts telling these crazy stories about Girlfriend1, totally criticizing her behind her back, telling everyone what a loser she is, and generally not appreciating having a relationship that most people would love to have. So you get the idea on how he treats women.
When Badass Pilot and Girlfriend1 finally break up, he told everyone that SHE was cheating on HIM when it was the other way around. His excuse for tanking an interview for his dream job was that he discovered Girlfriend1 was cheating the night before, he was an emotional wreck and that's why he flubbed the interview. There were a bunch of inconsistencies with his timeline and I knew it wasn't true but he told the story to anyone within earshot and people just accepted his version of events. And so he made everyone hate the ex and feel sorry for him, which is a common theme.
So anyhow, he and Girlfriend1 break up, he is drinking heavily, partying all the time, and a bunch of us get a front row seat as he comes close to destroying his life, parties hard, acts like a sleaze, hits on women constantly, and works his way through any woman who will sleep with him setting some new low records.
A few months later he hooks up with one of his students, let's call her Girlfriend2, and pretty much immediately moves into her house. This seems to stabilize him and help him get his life on track. Over the next few years he gets a cush offer flying corporate charters. He's a likeable guy, which helps him get a sweet contract as a private pilot for a billionaire, which he brags about nonstop to everyone. They also pay for him to get trained to fly jets. He gets a new car that doesn't look like a piece of shit, and he lives in a nice house. His flight school is no longer a frat house and it's more of a family friendly environment. Girlfriend2 helps him out at the flight school and life is pretty good for Badass Pilot.
To put the icing on the cake, the FAA is looking for new blood to fill a highly prestigious job of pilot examiner. These are people who are pilots with a lot of experience, well respected members of the local community with good judgment and a lot of power over student pilots and other flight schools. They also tend to make tons of money because they can charge any price people will pay to get their license and there isn't a lot of competition. Badass Pilot has friends at the FAA who like him, and he gets the job. He brags to people that it's like printing money tax free since students have to pay in cash (sounds weird, I know, but it's true) and he says the IRS doesn't need to know about it. So Badass Pilot is now in his 30's at the pinnacle of his career, earning tons of money, and has lots of power over people in the industry. And the success really goes to Badass Pilot's head.
Now, as you might have guessed, Badass Pilot is still the same person he was before, just with a lot more money, power, and success.
Badass Pilot still likes to brag loudly that he is the best instructor around and he has the best flight school. He still tells people how bad other flight schools in the area are, even though he shouldn't be saying anything due to his job as an examiner. He talks about his friends and his students and tells embarrassing stories about them, but I don't think much of it because they're funny and they're not about me. It doesn't really register with me at the time, but he is really good at getting other people to pile on and hate the people he hates and really good at destroying peoples reputations behind their back with things that turn out to be total lies. I start to hear him put down Girlfriend2 and say things about her that I know aren't true. I still don't pay attention to it because there are lots of loud guys in aviation who like to brag and make up stories. I continue to think of him as a friend and have even confided in him about something that I am sensitive about and looked to him for advice.
So one day when I'm in town I was hanging out with him and a bunch of people at the Badass Pilot flight school shooting the breeze. After I left I realized I forgot something, so came in the back way through the mechanic shop next door. I heard him talking in his very loud voice so everyone could hear, and that's when I realized he was talking about me. Not only was he talking about me, but he was totally lying about my embarrassing situation, made it totally different and a thousand times worse than what it was, and turned it into something that could potentially end my career. I thought he respected me and was my friend, but he was destroying my reputation and tearing me down behind my back.
Luckily nobody saw me and I slinked out the way I came in. I spent weeks feeling humiliated and betrayed. I reflected on the way I had seen him treat people and started to see things in a different light.
Now, I knew that he had tanked some careers. He has a lot of contacts in the industry, and he has bragged about calling companies that are hiring and telling them not to hire certain people. One of his favorite sayings is that aviation is a small world and you shouldn't burn any bridges because it will come back to bite you in the ass. He bragged several times about bringing people down a peg and making someone he disliked lose a job they had applied for by calling the company owner. Usually he did it because he wanted to take revenge for something he thought they did to him, but he was also jealous of people who graduated college (he didn't) and people who came from stable families (he didn't). He would always talk about how bad his home life was as a child and really try to get people to feel sorry for him. Keep in mind he's an adult in his late 30s.
I also knew that despite becoming more stable with GF2, he had not changed his ways with women. He acted like he respected women in front of GF2. But every time he was off on a trip, and even at his own airport, he could get pretty aggressive with women would push them hard to see how far he could take things.
As an example, he flirted aggressively with the receptionist at the building next door from his flight school. The receptionist was young and relatively new and had no idea Girlfriend2 existed. She (F18 or 19) called the Badass Pilot flight school and left a flirty message for Badass Pilot (M35), totally in line with how Badass Pilot was interacting with her. I was not there, but a witness said GF2 played the message on the machine and made Badass Pilot listen to it. He sheepishly said he had no idea why she would leave such a message, and Girlfriend2 told him in no uncertain terms that he was obviously leading her on, exploiting a young woman, and he needed to stop. Then, instead of taking responsibility for his own actions, Badass Pilot took revenge on the young girl. He immediately complained to the airport manager and got her fired. She ended up packing her stuff in a box and leaving that same day. So, while Badass Pilot is fun to be around as long as you're on his good side, he will F** you up if he thinks you are against him. I knew I had to be careful.
I wasn't sure yet what I was going to do, but I decided I needed to be close in order to get more information. So I sucked it up, pretended I wasn't humiliated and had never heard him talking about me, and spent more days at the flight school when I had time off. Everyone at the flight school was in and out all the time, so sometimes I'd be the only person there and I could easily sit down behind Badass Pilot's desk and start scrolling through his files.
That's when I hit the jackpot.
Badass Pilot was logged into all the same accounts on his desktop that he was on his phone, email, messaging, everything. And boy did he like to text. Now one of the things some of his students complained about was that Badass Pilot would not stop texting, even when he was supposed to be instructing people in the plane. He even lost a few students who were so annoyed by him texting during a lesson that they went somewhere else for lessons. And now I knew why.
Badass Pilot was a sex addict.
That's the only way I can describe it. Some people might describe him as a serial sexual harasser. His entire messaging history was full of cybersex, photos, videos, you name it, it was right there on his computer. I copied everything. I played the videos and recorded them on my phone, I took the snapshots, I took pictures of the texts. I must have spent an hour trying to copy this stuff and I ran out of time because someone came back, so I minimized the tabs and casually left the office.
I enlisted the help of another aviator that Badass Pilot had screwed over and we went through the treasure trove with a fine tooth comb. We had to research the phone numbers to find out who these people were and we classified them into "known aviation" and other. We even found that he was doing the nasty with a couple of people there at the flight school...not quite the family friendly environment everyone thought it was.
It became clear that his cybersex activity made him totally ineligible to be an FAA examiner. Plenty of the texts were just plain sexual harassment from a guy with a lot of power in the aviation industry, flirting with and pressuring young women who were hoping to become pilots for everything from sexy photos to sexual acts, sometimes pretending it was all just a big joke. He had no problems sending dick pics to women. That in and of itself made him unqualified to be an examiner. However, he went even further and had sexual contact with at least one person he tested. This is extremely dangerous because it compromises his ability to evaluate if someone is able to pilot a plane safely. If he is threatened with a lawsuit or criminal charge and has to test one of these women, or even someone they know, he might be coerced to pass an unsafe pilot, which could result in death.
August 2017
My pilot friend and I decide the best thing to do is send the information to the FAA, but we know we have to do it anonymously because our careers could be on the line. So we carefully packaged up a bunch of evidence, sent it in to the FAA office that he reported to, and waited for the fallout.
AND. NOTHING. HAPPENED.
The FAA literally ignored evidence that they had a sexual predator as a pilot examiner. This is a pretty old boys club environment, so maybe not too surprising.
For our next attempt we approached a Young Female Pilot we identified from the evidence who seemed like she tried to stop Badass Pilot when he got out of hand with her. We approached her to see if she would be willing to come forward and tell the FAA about her experience. She basically said all it would do was get her slut-shamed and blacklisted, especially after she heard that the FAA did nothing with our anonymous package we sent in. She said Badass Pilot would most likely ruin her career and nobody would hire her and he would make sure her reputation was destroyed. I had to agree.
Fast forward to 2018: I Make Him Homeless
I thought maybe I should just tell Girlfriend2 about what I had found, but I kept chickening out. I also didn't want to be exposed myself, as I have to protect my career and I was certain Badass Pilot would try to destroy me if he found out. One morning I was sitting in the school playing with the ipad while Girlfriend2 was behind the desk. Wouldn't you know it, she is texting Badass Pilot, who is flying, and Badass Pilot is logged into the flight school ipad I'm using! I can see her messages to him, and I can also see that he had cybersex with someone the night before and that he sent a video of himself masturbating to a student before that! I take photos for evidence, as usual.
Girlfriend2 is reading and not looking up at me so I just mumble something and hand her the ipad with the sexting open full screen as I walk out the door. I wait in the parking lot in my car, and about 10 minutes later, Girlfriend2 leaves the school with the ipad in hand and drives home.
I made sure to be scarce the rest of that day as I didn't want to raise any suspicions about my own involvement. Apparently Girlfriend2 owns the property where they live, so she immediately moved his stuff out and permanently banned Badass Pilot, who started sleeping at the flight school. From what I pieced together that week, Girlfriend2 was so alarmed by the evidence that she demanded that Badass Pilot see a therapist or she would report him to the authorities and he could potentially be arrested. One thing I should mention is that Girlfriend2 has a child, which is important. Badass Pilot was using her child to set up booty calls for himself (set up playdate with another child, have sex with child's mother while kids are paying video games).
Badass Pilot slept on a cot in the flight school, stayed drunk, and looked like a homeless person for a couple of months before he ended up getting his own place.
We also let Badass Pilot's billionaire employer know that he was a sexual predator, as well as a few other people anonymously. I wanted to make sure Girlfriend2 knew all the gory details of Badass Pilot's sexual activities in case she was even considering getting back together with him after he did therapy, so I kept sending her more information anonymously too.
Young Female Pilot kept in contact and apparently had some conversation with other female pilots. Nobody was willing to go on record but they all started sending anonymous letters to the FAA hoping they would at least investigate him.
The next thing I hear is that Badass Pilot is telling everyone that he broke up with Girlfriend2, that she is crazy and trying to destroy his reputation, and that she's sending false anonymous letters to the FAA because she's jealous. From what we could tell, the FAA interviewed Badass Pilot, but nothing happened because he blamed Girlfriend2 for sending the letters. True to form, Badass Pilot also made sure everyone at the flight school hated her and felt sorry that that he was being victimized by her. He also called the police and told them she was harassing him and told them he was banning her from his flight school.
Nothing else happens. This all starts to die down and Badass Pilot is still an examiner. He still works for his billionaire boss as well as a very wealthy owner of a car dealership who also races cars, and he still runs a flight school with plenty of students. Again, he starts sleeping with another student at the school, who will now be named Girlfriend3. Badass Pilot continues to complain to everyone that he has been victimized by Girlfriend2. Badass Pilot gets Girlfriend3 (who has never met Girlfriend2) so wound up about her that she is spitting tacks every time she is mentioned. This is important later.
Fast forward to 2019: WTF?!
Not only has Badass Pilot not been punished by the FAA, but the FAA has INCREASED his responsibilities so that now he can also conduct instrument flight exams for students!
Young Female Pilot stays in touch and we talk periodically, sworn to secrecy, of course. We have a couple of male pilots who are also sworn to secrecy to protect our own jobs. When the FAA promoted Badass Pilot to instrument examiner despite all of the complaints they had received, Young Female Pilot and her friends get really pissed off. They are still unwilling to risk their own jobs, however. (Reader, please don't judge me or Young Female Pilot for this...it is very expensive to become a pilot, easy to get blacklisted by someone at the FAA or someone like Badass Pilot, and then you have no way to make a living or to pay back a huge amount of student loans if you're in debt.)
So we hatch a plan to have her call Girlfriend2 and tell her about the frustrations of the other female pilots in hopes that she will think of something to do. A detail I should mention, Girlfriend2 does not fly for a career, and she has her own business not related to aviation. So Young Femail Pilot calls Girlfriend2 on someone else's phone. Girlfriend2 doesn't know Young Female Pilot and we don't think she would betray her, but the situation is still very risky for Young Female Pilot She discusses how frustrating it is that a serial sexual harasser gets promoted by the FAA with no consequences when the FAA knows about his harassment, and Girlfriend2 agrees that she will try to make information public to protect other women. She agrees to post a review on Yelp and maybe some other platforms.
I do my best to be at the Badass Pilot flight school when this goes down. True to her word, Girlfriend2 posts a very straightforward and factual Yelp review and heads EXPLODE at the flight school! People are forwarding the review on and it spreads like wildfire all over the aviation industry. Think "owner sends messages of himself masturbating to female students." Yikes! And totally true!
Other people have posted unfavorable reviews before, but Badass Pilot has been able to have them taken down, falsely claiming that the review is a fake account or from a competing flight school. But there has been nothing like this that I know of. Badass Pilot and Girlfriend3 (who now appears to be a co-owner of the flight school and who has posted a positive review of the school on Yelp) go into damage control mode. Badass Pilot tries to get Girlfriend2 arrested or at least harassed by his friends at the local police department. He's frantically trying to get the review shut down with Yelp. His brain is literally exploding and I, along with everyone else at the school, am agreeing with him that Girlfriend2 is a total lying, crazy, conniving, vindictive B, and that she needs to be punished.
All while laughing on the inside.
Badass Pilot next engages one of his instructors, who was friends with Girlfriend2, to meet with her and ask her to take down the review, but she does not. Badass Pilot is finally successful in getting Yelp to remove the review a day or two later. The same process also happens with another platform that shall remain nameless.
Badass Pilot gets everyone to bombard Girlfriend2 with hate mail, which makes me glad I am still anonymous. Badass Pilot also tells the instructors at his school that they are not allowed to be friends with Girlfriend2 and they will be fired if they are.
Fast forward to August 2019: Mission Accomplished!
What happened to Badass Pilot:
We later found out that the FAA ended up doing an investigation on Badass Pilot. Finally. Badass Pilot totally lost all of his examiner privileges. On top of that, his flight school had an FAA written testing center, which was also permanently closed. And even beyond that, Badass Pilot can't have any affiliation with the FAA in any way, shape, or form. He can't even host an educational seminar or continuing credits class for the FAA.
While some up and coming pilots and people outside the industry might never hear about Badass Pilot being totally humiliated and losing his examiner status, believe me when I tell you that everyone in the profession knows what happened. And it has got to BURN!
What happened to me:
I am pretty much back to enjoying my time at the airport like I used to. There are still parties and flyouts, and ultimately some people don't care that Badass Pilot sexually harasses women or destroys peoples careers. But he has definitely been taken down a peg, as he likes to say. I just don't trust anything Badass Pilot says and I don't heap on other people he's trying to destroy. I still feel a little twinge of delight whenever I hear Badass Pilot tell new students that he used to be an examiner, but the liability insurance was too high so he quit.
Another thing that I get a chuckle out of is that Badass Pilot has started talking behind Girlfriend3's back. I tried to warn her and even sent her (anonymously, of course) information about Badass Pilot. But so far Girlfriend3 is standing by her man, and I'm just sitting here eating popcorn watching the story unfold again!
TL/DR Friend who is a badass pilot screws me over, I find out he's a sexual perv and get him fired from his job.
(source) story by (/u/flyingmonkey737)
#prorevenge#by /u/flyingmonkey737#pro revenge#revenge stories#pro revenge stories#pro#revenge#last10
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Unsinkable
My other fic for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange! An analogical titanic fic for @strugglingispointless. And a huge thankyou to @missfay49 for betaing this!!
Rating- teen again! content warnings are in the notes of each chapter
WC- 10873 (I got... very carried away lmao. hope you enjoy!)
Ships- Romantic analogical, backgroundish moceit, and all the sides are in it and interact at one point or another.
AO3
Logan has been the perfect child all of his life. Perfect manners, perfect poise, perfect brain. All that's left is being the perfect husband- marry someone with good status for the family. And he didn't even have to secure his own match, his parents had found one for him.
By all accounts, this should be easy.
Logan learns very, very quickly how wrong that is.
-
There’s no way in hell I’m posting the whole thing here, but the first chapter is under the cut!
Logan didn’t believe anything was ‘perfect’- there was always space for improvement, no matter how miniscule, and settling for anything less with the claim it was already as good as it could be just seemed, as far as he was concerned, lazy.
He pointed this out every time he heard the word, yet it didn’t stop his parents from using it to describe him. The perfect son. Booksmart, eloquent, impeccable manners. But there was always more to learn, and though ‘perfection’ was in itself subjective his social skills could certainly use some work. He, like everything else, wasn’t perfect. His parents didn’t especially appreciate the observation.
The frustrating thing about being ‘perfect’ was you didn’t make mistakes. You couldn’t. Expectations were high and, for the people who put a roof over his head and clothes on his back, Logan refused to disappoint them. So he spent his days studying, learning as much as he could to live up to an expectation he, realistically, knew was unachievable.
It was only natural he spent most of his time in their library, surrounded by dead peoples words. He didn’t mind that much- people were difficult to understand, but books told you exactly what they meant. They weren’t perfect, either, but they were ideal for learning, curling up in an armchair and forgetting about everything and everyone until you’re torn back to reality.
“Logan!” A shrill voice cried, doing just that. He gently shut his book and set it aside.
“Yes, father?”
“Oh, there you are- so small, that’s hardly a gentlemanly way to sit’ now, is it? I could barely see you. Sit up’ now, sit up- there’s my boy!” He doted, Logan’s back instinctively straightening at the command.
“Now… Your mother and I have something to talk to you about.”
Logan scanned over his shoulder, a small frown setting onto his face.
“I don’t see her.”
“Oh, darling- That’s because I’m doing the talking!” His father exclaimed with a chuckle, seeming to have thought that was a joke. The laugh felt a little patronising, if you asked Logan, and he had no idea why he’d say it’d be a conversation involving someone who wasn’t present, but he nodded like he understood anyway. Experience showed that was easiest.
“Well, we’ve got you a match!”
Logan blinked. His father looked at him expectantly. His frown returned.
“What would I do with a match...? I’ve told you tobacco makes my lungs feel constricted, and it’s generally Amy's job to light the fireplaces-”
“Oh, Logan!” He laughed again like he’d said something ridiculous.
“A romantic match, silly. A fiancé!”
“Ah.” Logan’s eyes flicked back to his book. He’d been reading about constellations before, and though learning of their origins was somewhat less academic than his other studies, it was a passion of his. “Will that be all?”
“You… don’t want to know about him?” His father prodded in that way that signalled he had been meant to ask for details. Logan shook his head anyway.
“I know I’m around that age, and I trust you to choose an adequate match- so long as I live with a library, I cannot foresee any issues.”
There was a beat of silence, for a minute, before his father seemed to come to terms with his answer. He let out a delayed squeal, squishing Logan’s face uncomfortably between his hands and pressing a kiss he had to fight not to move back from to his forehead.
“There’s our boy!”
Logan offered him a smile, hand already reaching back for his book.
-
Virgil groaned loudly, tearing a page from his sketchbook and crumpling it up in his fist. He threw the balled up paper at the bin... and watched it bounce off the lid, onto the floor with all his other attempts. He slumped and hit his head on the table. Nothing he drew was good enough. Seemed to be a pretty consistent theme in his life, actua--
“I’m home!” He heard his brother yell, almost like the self deprecation had summoned him. That happened a surprising amount, and Virgil was beginning to wonder if he had some kind of sixth sense for wallowing.
“What’re all these?”
Virgil peered up to see Patton scoop up some of his discarded paper and huffed.
“Shit.”
“Hey, language!” Patton scolded, unfolding one. Virgil knew better than to protest because, either way, there was nothing he could do to stop the incoming onslaught of validation. Pretty rude of his brother, if you asked him, breaking in like this and ruining his lamenting.
“Kiddo, this is amazing!”
“Kinda loses its meaning when you say that about everything, Patt.” Virgil grumbled, pulling his hood up.
“It’s covered in mistakes- I kept having to rub them out but it happened so much the paper just looks messy and flaky, but I kept fu- screwing up and-”
“There’s no such thing as a mistake.” Patton scolded lightly, not wanting to let him fix onto something so negative. “Just-”
“If you say ‘happy accidents’ I’m setting the apartment on fire.” Virgil warned, hiding a small smile.
“You know me too well.” Patton replied with a deep sigh, slipping into the chair opposite him and not quite meeting his eyes.
“In other news, though... I’ve got news. Oh! I said ‘news’ twice.” He giggled, and Virgil rolled his eyes- before he registered what ‘news’ meant. It meant something new, which meant change and, yeah, they didn’t exactly have the money to keep going as they were in this shitty expensive flat without any work but where else would they go? Were they homeless now? Was the news that they were being kicked out? He knew they were overdue but they had time, still, surely--
“Kiddo! Kiddo, I’m sorry, I should’ve been clearer.” Patton gently pulled him back to reality, the guilty look on his face enough to make Virgil feel terrible for spiralling. He didn’t admit that, though, because it’d make Patton feel worse, and then they’d just be in their own spiral of upsetting one by upsetting the other and he did not have the emotional stability to deal with that.
“I have a job!”
Virgil was pretty much a master in nerves, and he could spot them a mile away- especially in his brother. The wringing of hands and avoidance of eye contact wasn’t exactly subtle. Why he’d be nervous about getting work when they needed it so desperately, though, didn’t seem right. Was he a criminal? Were they going to get arrested?
“That’s… good?” He offered, before he could jump to any more awful conclusions.
“It is!” Patton nodded eagerly, latching onto it. “Just…”
“Just...?”
“It’s on a boat.”
Virgil's throat went dry.
“We can’t swim.”
“I know, but most of the crew can’t, it’s really safe, and we’ll have our own room and it’ll be warm and-”
Virgil shook his head quickly.
“We’ll be surrounded by miles and miles of sea and we can’t keep afloat by ourselves and if it sinks we’re fucked and-”
“We… don’t have much of a choice.” Patton reminded him softly, and they both involuntarily looked over at the red envelopes shoved under the door. Their eviction notices.
“Anyway, cheer up kiddo- they say it’s unsinkable!”
#virgil sanders#ts virgil#logan sanders#ts logan#logan logic sanders#virgil anxiety sanders#analogical#moceit#titanic#patton sanders#ts patton#ts deceit#ts janus#janus deceit sanders#remus sanders#ts remus#dark creativity sanders#roman sanders#ts roman#roman creativity sanders#mads' writing
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discord thread with @rebeccakoval
Some of the people whose names were on the letters weren't familiar to Teak, so it took a little doing to hunt out who they were. Fortunately in that respect, the current confuddle and confusion on dear old Mystery-Ass Island worked to his advantage; people were too busy trying to deal with dark and snow and their own securing shelter and warmth and food, that they didn't have the bandwidth to be suspicious when he asked them questions.
And that was how he managed to find out who Rebecca was, and that she lived in some cave. Teak was surprised people chose to live in caves, and when he caught sight of Rebecca, he said as much: "Aren't there bats in there? Aren't you like, grossed out by the guana? Iguana? Wait, what's it called, the special name for bat poop? Isn't it highly toxic to breathe in the spores? I'm Teak, by the way. We haven't met."
He announced this last part with assuredness and a bright grin, certain he was correct. Well, certain enough.
Becca had seen him somewhat in the distance, climbing over the rockier terrain of the Western Cove, stealing glances here and there as she tried to collect her limited laundry pile into a net to drag down to the river for cleaning. Rebecca stood, frowning slightly when the stranger walked to the mouth of the cave, chatting like they were thick as thieves.
She really had to start thinking about making a door for more privacy.
Becca blinked, she didn’t know the answer to what bat poop was officially called. It never seemed that important, but now her focus was back on the cave walls which were cool and clean from what she could see. And maybe if she had been given just a moment of warning she would have been ruffled at the inference her living quarters might be inherently dirty – but Rebecca was taken so off guard by the company and rapid fire observation the most she could do was gape and stare.
“Well…I know an iguana is a lizard. So it’s not that.” She offered quietly, pursing her lips to ask the man just how they knew one another when he clarified that too. They really were strangers. Well, that made Becca feel a little better. “I didn’t think so. I’m Rebecca. Can I help you with something?”
"Right! Iguana lizard. They don't get along with bats, I don't think. But I could be wrong. And this island is weird anyhow so who knows what laws of the animal kingdom got messed up here." Teak shook his head direly at the thought. "Oh, but wait -- you grew up here, right? You were born here or something? Rebecca?"
He shook his head at her inquiry about if she could help him with anything, saying, "Actually, it's sorta the other way around. I, potentially, might be helping you with something. Not to do with your bat poop." Teak looked apologetic. "Sorry, didn't mean to get your hopes up in that respect, but if you choose a cave I figure you're down with bat business."
He gave a thoughtful nod, then shook himself back into the topic at hand. "But! What I'm here for is something else. I think I have something that's meant for you. Did you go out to the yacht that was here?"
“I did.” Becca confirmed, giving a slight nod for further emphasis. Well, even if they technically never met, it was obvious Teak had gone out of his way for something. She couldn’t exactly imagine lizards and bats interacting all that much, but he made a good point – given how weird the rest of the island was, who really knew for sure?
She scoffed, placing a hand on her hip as he brought up the bat poop again. Although he clearly had other things to get to, she couldn’t let the mention slide so easily. “I don’t need help with that. The cave is clean, was uninhabited practically till I walked up.” Her brow furrowed, puzzled when the yacht was brought into conversation. Becca glanced behind herself over to her makeshift mattress, above she’d manage to scavenge a nail, and the locket hung there.
“Yeah I swam out. There was something else, that you got saddled with? How weird. Well, the whole thing was weird, no surprise there or anything…” She trailed off before looking on expectantly at Teak, “Can I have it?”
"You found a clean, uninhabited cave?" Teak regarded Becca for a few long moments. "You sure that's what happened? You just happened to luckily find yourself a clean cave with nobody already living in it for you to have it all to yourself?" He snorted. "Ohhhhhh-kay. I believe you. I'm sure you didn't get somebody to throw out whoever was currently living in that cave so you could move in."
It wasn't really of much importance to Teak except that he kept it in mind for the future: Becca living alone in her apparently vermin-free cave, ripe for the eviction. It didn't matter at the moment.
"Why don't we trade?" Teak said. "Whatever it is you found on the yacht for whatever I found for you on the yacht." He'd noticed the way she glanced into her cave and added, "Don't try to tell me you didn't find anything on the boat. We all did."
“I didn’t need anybody to throw the previous inhabitant out.” Becca scoffed. If Teak wanted to be haughty about it, she could easily follow. “If you really want to know, I killed and buried them back out in the jungle.” A pretty bold face lie, but Rebecca’s expression remained placid and unbothered none the less. Maybe Teak would believe her, and maybe he wouldn’t, and even if he ran to tell, what did it really matter?
She laughed at his suggestion of a trade, picking up one of her torn garments and attempting to mend it with one of the less perfected, handmade bamboo needles she had managed to barter off one of the other islanders. “Sure, I found something, but it’s not for trade. Especially if you aren’t even going to tell me what you have of mine in the first place. Is that how you usually trade for things? I can’t imagine it works very well.”
Becca's claim to have murdered somebody and disposed of the corpse was entertaining, at least, so Teak just laughed and snapped and pointed at her with a wink. "Good one," he said cheerfully. "As if somebody like you is capable of murder. Or burying somebody. I mean unless you're an earthbender? In which case you probably could bury somebody without too much fuss."
She started to return to some task and Teak stepped closer, peering curiously at Becca's sewing venture. "Are you mending clothes? Maybe I could get you to do that for me. Hire you, I suppose. Unless that's what you do for the island, like your ... job, or whatever. How some people have jobs. Like all those stuck-up humps at the farm." Teak rolled his eyes at the thought. Not a single person on that farm (so far as he knew) was bearable.
He patted the pocket where he was keeping the letters. "I've got a few words for you from your dear old dad," Teak announced. "But then it doesn't sound like he really knew you, so I dunno how much dear is involved in it." He bobbed his chin. "Interested?"
Becca shrugged, “Whatever you think then.” She squinted fumbling with the needle and fabric for a moment before tightening one of the stitches. When she glanced up, she hadn’t expected Teak to be closer and blinked in surprise. “Ah no…I don’t do it for the island. I think it’s a bit too haphazard for that.” She held out the clothing so Teak could see the imperfection. “Don’t know if you want that but it works for me.” She cleared her throat, smirking at the corner of her mouth, “What would you barter?”
Rebecca stopped for a moment, finding something to tie her hair up with, “Well, I have another confession – I work on the farm occasionally. Don’t know if I’ve ever been called a stuck-up hump before.” She snorted at the slight insult, not taking it seriously for herself or anyone else who spent time there. Teak could have his opinions, the farm was making the roughness of the island just a bit more bearable at the very least.
She was disappointed to hear what Teak had for her in his pocket. It was like a punch to the gut, Becca sat with the feeling for a moment and then shook her head, “No, actually. Thank you.” She didn’t need some apology, excuse ridden letter. Or anything sappy or anything…mean. She didn’t need anything from the person that had simply dumped her at the jungle’s (and eventually Libby’s) mercy. He had a choice, and he made it. What good would any revisiting do now? “I don’t want anything from him.” Becca’s shoulders heaved with a heavy sigh she made, “So keep it, use it as kindling. I don’t care.”
"It's not like people here can go to a real tailor and get real alterations done so I suppose that's the best available," Teak said, looking at Rebecca's work with a critical eye. "They seem big on mending here. You'd think by now somebody would've invented cloth. Seems like a prett-tty big thing to work on instead of some of the people doing useless things." Teak didn't actually have anybody in mind but he was certain if given a moment he'd be able to list some of those things; he just didn't care at the moment.
He rocked back on his heels, saying "ohhh" when Becca said she was one of the farm workers. "You don't find them all stuck-up? Madi and Emre are soooooo full of themselves. Madi thinks if you don't work on the farm then you're not doing anything at all for people on the island. And Emre's just a dickhead."
When he told Becca what it was he had for her, the disappointment was palpable, and Teak felt himself responding in kind. She just said no, she didn't want it, she didn't care, and he rubbed a hand across his chest as he considered this reply. "Alright," Teak said eventually. If she didn't care, she didn't care, and that was pretty much his entire purpose in talking to her. "See you around."
Becca shrugged, “I mean, you can work on inventing a clever way to manufacture cloth on the island if you think it’d be more successful.” Maybe one day they’d get to that point, but keeping people fed and covered with what they did have was just a tad more important. It sounded like Teak didn’t have much to do though so maybe he’d be inspired.
Her lips thinned in growing irritation as he continued on about how stuck up and annoying Emre and Madi were. It seemed unwarranted, and Becca had hardly welcomed the criticism. “I suppose it takes one dickhead to know another.”
She watched Teak silently take in her refusal of the letter he’d found. Becca wasn’t entirely sure what he had wanted or had been expecting for the personal piece of paper, but he clearly hadn’t gotten a reaction he’d been waiting for. No trades, no tears, Becca’s lip curled into a faint sneer as the realization of Teak’s personal gain angle came clear to her. She gave a slight wave in dismissal, “Bye then.”
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