#I've had several thoughts running through my head while writing
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Bull hybrid cowboy x chubby fem reader. He runs a little ranch all by himself no one for miles and her car just so happens to break down near his road. He offers her a ride into town but ends up kidnapping her. Would love it if he ties her up and shows her all the reasons why she should stay with him.
Hmm... Now do I write another hucow scene or don't I? Only kidding, you all know where this is going.
Kabr0z Writes Episode 34: Free Range
Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!
CWs: kidnap; dubcon; noncon; lactation; impregnation;
A/N: Thanks again for the steady stream of requests, you lot! Remember if you want to see something, want me to revisit a kink or scenario I've done before, or have a totally new idea, let me know and it'll probably happen!
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You loved that little shitbox of a car, mid 2000's spec, old enough to drink and still going strong. Up until about 5 miles back. You were on a tiny country road in the middle of the night, cruising at 60, when you heard an almighty bang followed by a jangling noise. Your revs went through the roof for a moment before you started to coast. By the time you stopped and inspected the damage you'd already figured out what happened. The jaunty angle of the gearstick and the lack of any resistance on it meant your gears were probably strewn across several hundred metres of road. At least your engine still worked so you had light, heat, and BBC 2.
You didn't, however have any phone signal.
So you sat in the layby in your car, idling the engine to keep the battery running and listening to the 80s. Sleeping in a running car seems like something that's probably illegal, but you figured if the police found you, they could probably give you a tow to go with the fine. Hopefully you'd make it to morning and then walk however far the nearest town is to call your insurance.
A horn behind you shocked you out of your thoughts. You looked around as a rugged 4x4 pulled level with you. A window rolled down and the driver motioned for you to do the same.
He was a bull hybrid, horns wreathing his head, a thick gold ring adorning his nose. "Need a tow?"
"Yeah, I think my gearbox is fucked" you smiled at him
"That'll do it for you, I can get you to town if you want, climb in"
You got out of your car and into his, grateful for the save. He hooked a rope from his car to yours and pulled away, your stricken vehicle in tow.
You didn't think anything of the route he took, country lanes are far too narrow to turn around in, especially in a big vehicle like this one, but you'd been travelling for a while. It's not like he wasn't charming, softly spoken with just a hint of an accent, apparently he had a herd of dairy cattle that he pastured around the area, and you were being regaled about the trade. The radio in the car gently playing some tiny local station or other, predominantly focusing on spinning old records and talking about the weather.
Suspicion set in when you turned off the road, he was taking you up a gravel track in the pitch-dark. He seemed to know the area pretty well but you figured that to get to civilization, you should probably be following the asphalt rather than abandoning it.
He pulled up at a house and turned off the engine, shoving the keys into his pocket "Come on, let's get inside"
You got out and bolted away from the house. You're not stupid enough to follow him in, you'd only just met!
He was faster than you. You'd barely made it twenty yards when you were tackled to the ground. The bull huffed as he tied your ankles together and hefted you over his shoulder. You hit and struggled against him, but he only chuckled at your assault. "Spirited, aren't you?" He opened his door and carried you over the threshold "You'll do fine here"
He put you down onto a plush sofa and sat in a chair opposite to you. Minutes passed in silence, you sullenly staring at him, him eyeing you up like a cut of meat.
"What will you do with me?" You spat at him
"Honestly, I'm not sure. You seemed like a soft townie when I picked you up. I'd thought maybe let you call for a tow, give you a coffee, and maybe a roll in the hay." He was still staring at you
"But?" You felt like there was a but coming
"But, you're not badly built, and you're not such a pushover. Now I'm deciding if I want a wife or not"
You recoiled at his comment "If you think I'm marrying you, you can fuck off!"
He shrugged and got up "Plan B then. With hips and tits like those you'll be a good fit"
He lifted you into a seated position and tore off your top, baring your chest and the rolls of your tummy. He grabbed one of your tits and hefted it "Natural, very good"
If looks could kill, you would've atomised him. As it was he merely met your gaze as he roughly inspected you.
"I was right, you'll do excellently" He picked you up again and swung you over his shoulder before carrying you outside. He crossed a field, not caring about your yelling and screaming for help. He knew nobody was around for miles, even if someone heard you they wouldn't be able to help you. He pushed open a barn door and carried you in, putting you down on a pile of straw "I'll see you tomorrow"
He left you there. The ropes were tied tightly around your ankles. You struggled against them until your fingers went numb to no avail. The other occupants of the barn stirred with your struggling. Your eyes were adjusting to the gloom, you could just about make them out.
They were other women. Some cow hybrids, some not. All of them plump, many pregnant. They looked at you with big doe eyes, curiosity on their faces as they regarded you.
The first one put her arms around you in a hug, then another and another until you were smothered in a dozen round women, their full breasts pressing against you as they started to doze off on you. Stuck there in the centre of the cuddle pile, you couldn't help your eyelids getting heavy, your head cushioned against a plush belly as sleep claimed you too.
You woke with the dawn. The other women mooing eagerly and dispersing around the barn. The bull man from last night opened the door and stepped in. He looked over at you before settling to work. One by one he attached milking cups to the other women, who each settled down contentedly as the machines pumped them, the milk being drawn into tanks at one end of the barn.
Finally he got to you.
"Enjoy your night?"
You spat at him. He laughed.
"Damn, I wish you'd reconsider being my wife. As it is, I can still put a calf in you." He lifted you and carried you to a fence, tying your arms to it before cutting your ankles free.
Your tits swung below you as he pulled your hips up and hiked your skirt up. He tore a hole in your tights, revealing your pussy. You screamed as he started to lick you, his thick tongue penetrating you already as he fingered your clit. You felt your skin flush as your body responded to him, getting wet and ready for him. His licking and stroking was drawing you in, until you quivered with a tearful orgasm.
You felt him straighten up behind you. He lay his cock on your back and you shivered with the length of it before he pulled back and started to ease the tip in, crooning as he went "You're doing great, girl, just a little more, a little more"
The sound of his voice was making you wetter than his tongue did. You whimpered from the fullness from his cock pushing slowly into you, stretching you out. Your hips were pushing back against him, sending waves of motion up your body. He started to push harder, move faster. Your whimpers turned to blissful sobs and whines as you sped towards your next orgasm, the length and girth of him getting you off all by itself. When he squeezed your hips it was too much. Your body tried to push back, but it didn't need to. He could feel your impending orgasm and hilted himself in you, tiny thrusts slapping his balls against your clit and driving you over the edge. He started to throb and pulse in you as your cunt clenched around him. His thrusts were fast and deep, he was close and wasn't going to cum anywhere but inside you. His pounding on your cervix was getting to you, as was his gripping your waist and your hips, and the jolting swaying of your tits. He pushed a hand between your legs and circled his fingers over your clit. You came again. This time he joined in. Your moans and grunts mingled as the other women watched you, still mooing in euphoria from being attached to the pumps.
He stayed inside you, his cock still giving occasional pumps of cum. His huge hands tracing patterns on your back and rubbing your aching muscles. Then he pulled out, and you heard a spatter of his cum fall out of you and onto the straw below. He cut your arms free and helped you off the railings, laying you on the straw.
"I treat my ladies well, you'll see"
A month has passed since you joined the herd. You spend your mornings hooked up to the milking machines, your afternoons lounging in the fields munching clover and enjoying the company of your new friends, then in the evenings Aaron, as you leaned his name, would often visit you and put another load in you. You're already late on your period, you just haven't told him yet.
Yeah, you're giving up some freedoms, and you're pretty sure you're getting dumber
But it sure beats your old job
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Postscript: A bit of an experiment in trying to split the difference between "awful human farm" and not being overly horrible to the POV character. Hopefully it hits the mark nicely. Who knows, I may do a continuation or a "what if" where it goes into fluffy marital sex between Aaron and Fem!Reader...
At any rate, this is your periodic reminder that my ask box and DMs are always open, and to not hold back on your requests! I'm not in the habit of airing anyone's dirty laundry so if you do cross some unforeseen line the worst you'll get is a no
#kabr0z writes#textposts#original content#fem!reader#monster smut#monster fucker#monster fuqqer#monster x fem!reader#huc0w#hucow fantasy#hucow training#fat hucow#huccow#monster x human#monster x reader#monster#monster x you#bull hybrid#minotaur x reader#minotaur x human#minotaur smut#minotaur#plotless smut#plot what plot#send asks#cr3ampie#send me asks#send me dms#send anons#send requests
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Dragon Age the Veilguard: My Thoughts
I have played through all of the latest Dragon Age installation (except for two side quests in Rivain, and one blighted dragon that I was locked out of for the entire game due to what I believe was a bug) and I have things to say.
After finishing it I had so many conflicting thoughts and feelings, and those internal conflicts have only grown after letting the experience marinate.
I want to start with saying that I am writing what I'm going to say as a nonbinary, queer, bi, pan, poly, “leftist” progressive feminist vegetarian working at an NGO LGBTQI-organization, so you can safely assume that I am not coming from a grifter or alt-right point of view.
To give you an idea of where I am coming from:
I grew up reading folktales, mythologies and fantasy literature by Pratchett, Tolkien and Eddings; playing the Swedish version of Dungeons & Dragons, making role-playing games, and programming text based fantasy adventures in DOS as a kid. That's how I ended up in this whole fandom in the first place.
I am an original Dragon Age fan. I've followed and absolutely loved the series since before the release of Origins. As I watched my friends play Baldur's Gate 1 and 2, but never had a good enough computer at home to play those games myself at that time, I was elated when I got to hear talk of a game universe that was the “spiritual successor to Baldur's Gate”, and I followed all info on the development and marketing, until the game was released. And boy did they deliver, Dragon Age: Origins converted me into a gamer and cemented my love for cRPGs as well as my love for BioWare.
I did many playthroughs of Origins; every origin, good runs, evil runs, canon runs. All the DLC. Several runs of Awakening. When the demo for DAII was released I was apprehensive due to the really weird look so it took me a while to play it, but when I eventually did it was amazing. The companions and the story were stellar, and it didn't really matter that they reused the dungeons, I just wish they had updated the maps so it wasn't as obvious. Several playthroughs later with both siblings, all romances and different allied endings I was ready for the next installation.
I pre-ordered Dragon Age Inquisition as soon as it was possible, the collector's edition, so I ended up learning tarot to use the deck that came with it. I bought all the art books for all the games. I kind of wanted to stop playing Inquisition at the 1337 hour mark but now I have over 2000 hours in the game, with all the DLC completed, and I've played every race and class, explored all the different ways the character can be portrayed as devout Andrastian, carefree selfish asshole, elven supremacist or goodie-two shoes hero, and I’ve even written a guide to how to get the best DAI experience here on tumblr (tldr; get out of the Hinterlands, talk to companions, skip the shards 😅).
And then I waited for ten years. Played Mass Effect 1-4, Fallout 3-4, Skyrim, Witcher 3, Baldur's Gate 1-3, Horizon Zero Dawn and Forbidden West, Elder Scrolls Online, Star Wars: The Old Republic, Divinity: Original Sin 2, The Outer Worlds, Cyberpunk 2077 and Starfield to bide my time. Followed Ghil Dirthalen's YouTube channel religiously. Read most of the Dragon Age Wiki, even contributed to it. Made my own mad person mind maps over the lore and timeline of the universe; the Maker, the titans, the spirits, the elves, the veil, humans, Tevinter, qunari, the blight, Andraste and the Chantry.
I love the darkness and depth of the Dragon Age universe. How it consciously turns fantasy tropes on their head in its own way. I have memories of the writers of Origins explaining that when they created the setting they wanted to contemplate how the existence of magic, elves and dwarves actually would play out in a gritty realistic world filled with bigoted and narrow minded people, and then followed through with those conclusions. How the plight of the elves had clear connotations to the holocaust and the Jewish gettos of Europe. It was a curious series not afraid to follow their own trains of thought, making you nauseated, flabbergasted and upset on the way.
I followed the twists and turns of the development at BioWare. Through development being halted due to teams being moved to Andromeda and Anthem, the pivot to and from multi-player live service, mass leavings and layoffs, teaser trailers, Kotaku articles and whatnot. It was a roller-coaster pendulum swing between being afraid and hopeful, oftentimes at the same time. I refused to completely give up hope, I never did, and I was immensely excited for the release of Dragon Age Dreadwolf.
Eventually it came! Name changed to Veilguard. A quite weird League of Legends-esque companions trailer. A spoiler filled gameplay video. Marketing team spoiling endgame scenes with official trailers. Rumors of amazing character creation and a shocking reveal that only three choices would carry over from the past three games. We already knew the Keep wouldn't be used, but only three? Nevertheless I pre-ordered and then it came.
And I played it.
I loved it so much, but at the same time I had so many deep grievances that threatened to take over the whole playthrough unless I somehow managed them. I had to create a document that stayed open at all times on my second screen just so I could write down things that I just could not let go otherwise, that made me able to keep focusing on the game and not the hard to swallow moments I was getting stuck on. I have never experienced anything like this before, but on the other hand I have never loved and been invested in any game fantasy universe like this.
This was the result of all my reactions to Dragon Age the Veilguard:
THE LOVE
Things I really loved
the lighthouse <3
the look and graphics of every place, the game is absolutely stunning, and the visual people have outdone themselves, the level designs, the environmental storytelling is amazing and beyond
the cities, the markets, I LOVE LOVE LOVE them, and they give so much cyberpunk 2077 vibes in a good way
dock town gives awesome low town vibes from da2 ❤️
the main story
the new lore drops, omg the lore, yum yum
buskers playing the old tavern songs, just love it
the blight, visually, oh god I loved it, it was really a throwback to the fleshyness of the Deep Roads in Origins
the new look of the demons, I actually loved it eventually as I was first sceptical, even though the pride demons were abit too much floaty neon
so many new iterations of enemies, in such fun ways
the faction systems and factions stores
the companion gear systems
the gear system, upgrade systems
the short letters ❤️
the leveling up systems, really funny, great to be able to refund at any time
the world maps and fast travel systems
the cards where you chose your companions, stunning
the scene in front of the lighthouse eluvian, awestriking
the companion conversation system where you could see on the map of the lighthouse if they had anything new, or a quest or where they were if you wanted to eavesdrop - it was very refreshing after talking to everyone in camp in bg3 every night to see if there is any new reaction to something you did, now I could just talk to them if they had something and not compulsively all the time
the quest formats of walking along with your companions in areas you otherwise can end up in battle in, loved that so much, a calm way to experience these absolutely stunning environments
the combat system on explorer mode, when at highest level the animations that played out were mad cool XD that was fun!
that you can walk into and climb ladders at the same time as companions and that they teleport to you or enemies in battle, lovely
squeezing through narrow passages, sliding down, walking on thin planks
the no fall damage jumping
opening doors like in dark souls games
that lucanis had a contract on a bronto once XD
elgar’nan has an amaaazing voice actor giving weight to his menace
loved the format of the ending in the style of mass effect 2, so well executed! one of the best endings of all times
the varric twist OMG!! I cried ❤️
I have cried and have had goosebumps so many time during this game ❤️ I love so much of it so much ❤️
the hype for what the "devouring storm", "the adversary" and "it's eye" is, and a potential next game
the joining chalice T_T
THE MEH
Things that were meh
that the romance was super PG13 T_T I guess I am spoiled after bg3 but to get a peck and then a lying hug on a couch and an "I love you" was of course wonderful, but NOT ENOUGH XD I absolutely loved the Lucanis romance otherwise, very spicy in it's way, but I really wanted the scenes of origins, da2 or dai - we honestly didn't get that here
wasn't a fan of the cartoony vibes for the characters but I still grew into almost immediately, I really wish that they had done something to not make all important characters look so extremely young, some people who should be in at least their 30s look like teenagers.. they should have used more rugged face textures
that there was no real way to make your inquisitor look like your original inquisitor like in they did with hawke in Inquisition, kinda broke immersion and emotional connection
the controls (ok remappable so it was fine in the end)
the lol dota fortnite overwatch type of ui vibe
whats up with all this drowning all the time XD
that you have to destroy stuff to loot it - very dark souls (they have clearly been elden ring inspired in this game) - very unimmersive as you trash the markets in all major cities…😅 but in the end it was fun, but still insane XD
repetetive puzzles in especially arlathan forest, wish they made more meaningful quests there instead to slow the pace
wish I never watched the game trailers they released, they spoiled too much of the
would have loved to be able to zoom in a bit more
too many cats XD 😉
the music was more like starfield or a scifi game than dragon age - there was a lot of modern music instead of the classical brass orchestra or choirs, I missed that
I missed the chantry, and the chant of light
personal quests starts like in the shadow of mordor games, interesting, a bit weird 😛
THE 😬
Things that I did not like
that I could not recreate a body that is similar to mine (and I have a completely normal female body that is just kinda curvaceous) because they put an unrealistic cap on boob and butt size, it makes me really sad because it feels like there is something wrong with existing like me, especially since women like me are the only ones not allowed to be included and represented in a game that otherwise prides itself at inclusion and representation
the stressed opening throwing us into the main action of the game far too quickly with far too little buildup as to who your character is, how they were drafted by Varric, what they have been doing, why they have been split up, what their relationships are like and why you should care about your own character
the gold exploding everywhere when looting or opening chests, it is really immersion breaking and unnecessary, I really hope someone can mod that out
the new look of the darkspawn: I like that there are so many different types and the amazing idea that the blight has changed, but they obviously went for comedic effect instead of horror here which makes me so sad, it feels like it ties in with other choices that make the game more juvenile that are hard to reckon with, especially since the game is marketed as “mature”
the new combat system on anything other than explorer, a huge nope for me, unfortunately, but I can only congratulate all those that seem to love it
that we, true to american culture and despite healing magic existing in this world, get death scenes of people just sitting and watching someone die crying for dramatic effect instead of trying to help them… it irks me every time it happens in any media
that you cannot sort your inventory by any values or show only light or medium armor or anything, a missed opportunity
THE 😭
These last grievances are the hardest ones to put into words and the things that have stayed with me since I played the game. They have given rise to so many questions as to why these choices were made, because these things are so obviously choices that it becomes really hard to understand why they would chose to go this route.
But here they are, the three major grievances I have with this game:
1) the lore breaking or retconning
2) the writing regarding companions, NPCs and its ideas of "teambuilding" and preaching
3) that there is so little real choice
The lore breaking or retconning
That there is much lore that is missing, and many choices or things from the previous games that are not referenced, felt a lot more okay than the instances where actual lore and world building was retconned in a way that was not explained in any capacity, but where you were just supposed to live with the fact that this is the new reality of the world.
I am not fully sure why this happened, and it felt really disrespectful to the game itself, its previous creators and all those who love this universe. It feels like they did it for two main reasons: one was that they wanted to remove things that could be somehow perceived as “uncomfortable” or “problematic” to the player, and the other was in instances where I think that the writers did not have enough knowledge or interest in the world lore, or experience with playing the previous games, and thus missed important pieces of lore where they had taken part of just some of previous codex entries and just kind of gotten it wrong. I really don’t know.
They seem to have retconned and thrown out the window all previous elf lore regarding dalish and city elves, that dalish elves are very hateful towards shemlen, and that humans are generally racist against elves, and that city elves are oppressed, and that they are often andrastian, and that not all elves even speak elvish…
Playing an elf mage warden was a rollercoaster of people talking about "my people" when I most likely grew up in a mage circle and was drafted to the wardens and should most likely not speak old elven? All elves just talked about "our people" and "our culture" like if that was a thing constantly, but it is so much more complex in this universe. And it seemed all elves just suddenly knew elvish, which was not a thing in the older games, that was like a cryptic language people didn't know much about.
The weirdest scene in the whole game that had me rubbing my eyes to make sure I was seeing and hearing correctly was the one where you meet the Veil Jumpers for the first time and the two leaders of the faction for some unknown reasons had knowledge of Solas being Fen'harel and most importantly that the old elven gods were power hungry evil mages. Like, that should not at all be any kind of common knowledge, that just felt absolutely insane. No explanation given as to how they could have pertained that bit of info.
And there was something really off with Arlathan, where the whereabouts of the ancient elven capital was like the biggest mystery of the previous games; no one knew where it had vanished, it had just been buried according to legend, and suddenly there is just a large crater in the middle of Arlathan forest and loads of city parts kind of left? Just, really strange.
And all this talk about the Tevinter blood magic destroying the elves while walking in that forest - where we literally just learned in the last game that it was not Tevinter that destroyed the elves, but the elves themselves and that when Tevinter came they were long gone, which makes those throwaway conversations just like this huge retcon of the last games. Kind of like someone reading the early lore and being like, aha, this is what happened, without also taking part of the events that showed that as being a false belief…
And it feels like this was done because it fits in with this whole new idea of “elves good” and “man bad” vibe of the story, where elves had been turned into some kind of indigenous population that were fighting the evil colonialist Tevinter? Which is not at all the original lore; in the original lore pretty much everyone’s an asshole in different ways (even if Tevinter are more assholes than most).
They have also removed a lot of the difference between surface dwarves and thaigh dwarves with their quite oppressive cast systems and racism towards the surface dwarves and peoples.
And they made the chantry into the catholic church in Antiva, is that really lore friendly? The chantry run or other mage circles aren’t really referenced anymore, even with several new organisations around that forming after Inquisition no matter what choices you made, and mages aren’t really treated any special, and people don’t seem to be afraid of them or revere them as they would in the rest of the world or Tevinter, and magic has been turned into some kind of scifi magical tech instead of what it used to be.
And apparently dragons have treasures now, but they never used to have that, so that's another thing where it feels like the writers did not write for the Thedas but for like generic fantasy.
And the Crows of Antiva are only a friendly family instead of an unscrupulous child buying assassin’s league (I hear that has kind of been explained in some written media by a war between the different crow factions, but they could have somehow then explained that...), and the pirates lead by Isabela - one of the worst perpetrator of cultural theft known from Dragon Age 2 where she stole the Tome of Koslun, with so little care as to return it to the point that a war with the Qunari broke out in Kirkwall - are not pirates but culturally sensitive treasure hunters, but of course without explanation as to how this could come to pass.
I have seen many people complain about things and references that are missing but that actually ARE in the game, and that is why I am not as upset about the missing lore because I know that there are probably a lot of that lying around in codexes and scenes and little NPC conversations and such that I have missed, just as many others have missed a lot of things. But those things that ARE there, that break the earlier lore without any given plausible explanation, that is what hurts.
The writing regarding companions, NPCs, "teambuilding" and preaching tone
Generally people are just too happy and cheery almost all the time.
I've heard "you've got this" WAY too many times - the disconnect between the dark lore and world and the NPCs who are so unphased almost all of the time, except for when emotion is needed for a scene, is too large. There is way much more cynicism needed here to reflect the evil in the world and the actual goings on around. This constant cheeriness was present in both companion dialogue and NPC interaction.
This game is obviously themed around building "a team" - that's the main premise, but the idea the writers have about how you do that doesn't feel based in reality. It feels like the power fantasy of nerdy queer computer developers on how they want people to feel or operate. Rook is made out to be a good leader because the question "are you ok" is used in any and all (not always reasonable) situations. Romantic questions are blunt in a way that not everyone would be comfortable with, but all companions are still happy with that in-the-real-world not very successful flirting style, and it feels like that is a power fantasy of writers who just wish the world would function like this.
You as Rook feels like your companion's mom and therapist, and their struggles are so juvenile and safe that they are about that they cannot sleep, forget to eat, that their mom told them to do something, that grandma might not approve of them, or that they do not like vegetables… And you tell them how to live their lives; they should eat, and sleep, and lots of other cliches, but the game also tells you as the player through companion dialogue that it is also good to do breathing exercises, drink less coffee, eat more flax-seed because it's good for your stomach, and how often you should shower. I as Rook even gave the mega ancient goddess Mythal modern style RELATIONSHIP advice, I wanted to sink through the floor…
This game feels preachy in a way that I have never ever felt in a game, it is like there are some writers there who just discovered that mindfulness, flax-seed and personal hygiene are good for you and now have to tell that to the WORLD. If kind of feels like they were envisioning us players some young vulnerable gamers that they needed to save with their hard earned life wisdom. I feel like the writers behind a lot of the companion interactions were not suited to write the kind of deep meaningful content that you expect from this kind of game.
The amount of times I have heard "Thank you" and "I am sorry" in this game is insane. The characters thank each others and apologize constantly like there is no tomorrow, and they resolve their differences within two sentences like - "I hate your whole way of life" - "Oh, I'm sorry I wish you said something sooner" - "Oh, no, I am sorry, I should never have called you assbag." It's just… so much bad writing, I don't know what to call it, it's shallow and flat and I just wish it was so different.
A whole lot of the preaching style could have been remedied if there had been more “show, don’t tell” in this game. It feels like the writers have forgotten that when you want to convey a moral, cultural, artistic or political message through a piece of art, like games are, you need to do it through the power of allegory and not just by having characters outright saying what is right or wrong.
For example, if the message that you want to get across is that cultural piracy is bad, you should not have a character posture for an organisation just telling you how good they are for returning treasure to cultures they come from; you should write a quest where you dig up a piece of treasure that gives you some kind of power, but where you later find out this is an important cultural relic of some lost tribe that really wants it back, and where you as the player have to grapple with the weight of that moral choice. Even players who would then choose to keep the relic for selfish and power-grabbing reasons would still feel kind of morally bad, and they would still get the message you are trying to convey. This kind of mechanic in storytelling is something that is missing throughout the whole game when it comes to different moral, social or cultural messages.
Also, in the character Bellara the retcon or writing for a different universe and strange companion writing converges. She namely talks about herself as autodidact - that she has learnt not by studying but by poking around and figuring out what goes boom - but at the same time she has many discussions with professor Emmerich about academic stuff and she uses all the fancy words, words that are also out of lore-words, about frequencies and things that come rather from Elder Scrolls and sci-fi universes, whereas in Dragon Age magical power relates to blood (titan blood, human blood, blighted blood and so on) or the fade and spirits. A person who is self taught by only learning and doing would not at all talk like that "you need to huperflux the enchantment-condesator", they would say "you know that feeling you get when it's about to go boom, that's when you do like this show and hold your breath" or something.
That there is so little real choice, you have only one personality and morality
You get very little choice in this game, so little that it almost no longer really feels like an RPG. Especially around who your Rook is and how they act, oftentimes they will just continue talking and say things about their life and background that you had no idea about and had never chosen. You are getting to know your character at the same speed as the NPCs of the game.
For a while while playing this game I honestly thought I had lost my ability to read and understand the English language, and was making plans to try to regain my language skills, because I had never before experienced such a disconnect between what you choose as a player and what Rook actually says. I realized later that this disconnect was not only felt by me but by others as well, and that there is a large disconnect between the options and what is said.
I don’t need to be “evil” like you could be in Origins or can be in the Baldur’s Gate games, but at least I thought you could be a kind of paragon or renegade version of Rook, or at least that you could form your personality like Hawke and be kind, funny or harsh - but not even that. Rook is more pre cooked than Geralt in the Witcher games, this is more of an interactive movie in many places, so many that I wish they were more honest about that and made those conversations more into quicktime events where you would just experience the scenes like in Detroit Become Human or games like those. The illusion that there are RPG choices where you have less choice in dialogue than you had in Fallout 4 is just hurting the experience, and especially hurting any immersion and connection you can have with your player character.
You are only allowed to be heroic, and just one type of heroic; not the one that is ready to sacrifice things for the greater good or to get things done, but only the goodie two-shoes hero (that for sure oftentimes is what I play, but which feels meaningless unless there is an option to go another route).
The most glaring example of this forced morality that pretty much breaks the fourth wall was when Rook goes by a scene in a blighted city where several people have been hung and says very dramatically that “this shouldn’t happen anywhere” and then proceeds to murder 20 Venatori agents with zero thought as to who their mothers, children or pets are. That comment did not feel like a legitimate comment that would be said by a Rook as created by genuine interest in the character or their connection to the world, but much more as a clear “social posturing” or “virtue signaling” for the player behind the computer screen that this is a good person, and that they are good according to the only specific moral view the hero is allowed to have (no chaotic good allowed).
It was also very present in Rook's interactions with Solas' memories in the crossroads. When confronted with a memory of the blight being created and threatening to spread to the whole world and how Solas sacrificed ONE of his agents to guarantee that the blight would not spread to the world the only way to react to that was the Solas was a horrible callous and evil person for not saving this one person and possibly condemning the world. I think they somehow meant for Rook and Solas to be moral opposites, where Rook would always protect the little people against oppression and Solas would sacrifice the little people for his missions, but it really feels so off to not have any say in your RPG characters moral values, even within the tropes of heroes.
This kind of virtue signaling is also present in many other parts of the game, used not to deepen the characters but to position them as the "good guys", and my best example here is how they handle Emmerichs vegetarianism. It could have been a really interesting trait that could have resulted in interesting conversations about morality, mortality, spirits of animals and flesh - but instead this trait is mainly used to position the other companions as good because they have (wow, time to get impressed) remembered to cook vegetarian food for Emmerich, several times even (naaw, that is so nice and inclusive of them, uwu). This cheapens the whole thing and makes it instead feel preachy (which it is at this point) and it's such a wasted potential.
And when it comes to the choices in the main game there is only one big choice before the suicide mission ending that is major and creates some replayability, but it doesn’t have a particularly large emotional effect because you have not come to know the places enough to care about them properly. The choices you make in the companion quests are, with the exception of Emmerich’s quest, so shallow and just affect their gear instead of their stories in any meaningful way, that I just wish they didn’t have any choices at the end of the quest lines.
SUMMARY
In conclusion: a lot of people have tried to explain these choices of retconning the factions and the lore, and the strange “teambuilding” discourse, as stemming from an idea of Rook as a heroic hero and their team “The Veilguard” as some kind of Avengers. And that for this purpose everything they do has to be good, they have to have only one type of personality, with one type of morality, have only one type of interaction with the world and their companions, the companions have to lack any type of “problematic” (or god forbid interesting) or morally ambiguous character flaw, and all factions you collaborate with have to be morally unambiguously good and the bad guys have to be unequivocally evil preferably without grayscale.
This way of thinking, if this is true, makes these choices that they have made for the game kind of make sense, but it is still such a weird choice to make, to take a complex dark fantasy story that is Dragon Age - and a cRPG franchise known for morally difficult and emotional choices and complex morally grey factions and cultures - and turn it into this hero-fiction, with clear cut morals and cartoony vibe aimed at younger audiences.
This could have been such an amazing game (which is in many parts still is), but something went really wrong in the direction for the writers and I ache so bad for all those developers that I am sure really tried their best and probably suffered under insane creative direction. I don’t know how else to explain this.
It feels like, when playing through the game, like the teams that made the environments, the main story and the companions were three different teams where the first two got all the time and resources, and no micromanagement, whereas the last team didn't have any contact with the others and got the short end of the stick.
I am still waiting for the Kotaku article where they talk to 19 people who have worked on this keeping them anonymous and telling us the real story about the experience of making this game.
Thank you for reading this far, I seriously hope you loved this game no matter its strange choices at time, and I would STILL say after all of this that it is worth playing for all Dragon Age fans out there.
Dareth shiral.
#dragon age#dragon age the veilguard#bioware#rook#solas#thedas#design#review#thoughts#veilguard#dragon age veilguard#veilguard spoilers#da veilguard
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"Would you like to ask your question now?"
"Yes...Why- I mean Would the world be considered a good, nice, and fulfilling place by everyone if I were to wish for peace and cooperativeness.."
"I would think so, child.."
"That wasn't a correct answer...It's a yes or no."
"I have told you my answer."
"I have asked you my question."
...
"Child, what you want is for everyone to be happy. For everyone to be happy is simply not possible. Humans seek the possible and impossible. I have seen they have yearned to kill, hurt, or be hurt. Would you truly want everyone to be happy? Because no matter what, no one will feel as fulfilled as I."
I looked down in thought, "I, I'll tell you my question tomorrow night."
"Be careful, child."
I felt as if I had gotten a bad premonition, but I could no longer ask god. I had woken up. Tonight's the last night to choose my wish. I've asked my question already.
'What should I wish for?' My friends told me to wish to become rich or popular. Some of them even asked me to wish for them to live a good life...My mom told me to wish for money so she could get a car.
I've seen people look at me on the street as if they had saw me from somewhere. The News showed my face for all to see. Random strangers walking up to me and asking what I would do.
Twice, I have nearly been killed twice. The envious and greedy looks sent my way as I walk down the street. Dogs barked at me within their fences.
'Maybe I'll ask to get away from everyone. I could become some sort of animagus from Harry Potter.'
I nearly fell on my back if I hadn't steadied myself. A rock had been thrown at the previous spot I had been standing in.
'Who was that?'
I looked to the left and I saw no one. No cars and no where to hide behind.
"That was weird."
"You could say that again."
"Huh- what!?"
I turn around to face someone, "Who are you?"
But there was no one there...
"I am what you humans would call, a ghost. Though, I once was human as well. Maybe around 4000 years again? Maybe less, maybe more. I don't keep up with the calendar."
"Where are you?!"
"I just said I'm a ghost..."
I let out a breath in disbelief, "Okay...so why are you here?? Talking to me??"
"I suppose I just wanted to tell you that I was the human chosen before you."
I was still unsure, "Okayy...and?"
They sighed, "I've just come to warn you not to wish for eternal life because look what happened to me. Apparently this god has a completely separate definition of life from us. I've just come to tell you that they are tricky and will turn your words into his own and throw them back at you."
I became annoyed at the thought, "I know, I asked him a question and he didn't respond properly."
"Don't worry, you're not alone on that."
"Okay then..Thank you? Bye..?"
"Bye and remember be careful."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
...
"Hello?!?"
'Did that ghost just leave me?'
I shrugged it off. It could be my mind playing tricks on me.. I didn't really know. I just wanted to get some sleep. It's so dark already. Was it always this dark? Did I even eat today? What did I do? I talked with a ghost, but what else? What am I forgetting? Was it important?
I should get home, but I never did.
By time I came to back sense of it all, I was in the room with that god again.
"So what is your wish?"
"..."
"Have you not made up your mind? Do you wish to not wish at all?"
"I want for us to change bodies and abilities completely. We keep the same mindset, but we change places."
"Child...Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Then I will do as you wish."
God appears in your dream and tells you that every 2000 years a person is selected to ask one question and have one wish granted on behalf of all of humanity. You have been selected. You have one week to give your wish and ask your question. The rest of the world knows you were selected.
#I've had several thoughts running through my head while writing#like i wanted to type that the narrator would relive that day for the rest of his life when he asked what they were forgetting#was gonna do a child throwing a rock but i chose a ghost instead#was gonna make it be like the god is under pressure and everything so he was glad to switch places#oof i got bored and undecisive so imma end it on a cliffhanger#it could also be that the ghost couldve been the real god after a ghost was selected after 2000 years and the ghost asked to switch places#said they couldnt wish for more wishes or wish for someone to be alive again (etc etc#they have a whole rulebook for these things)#minksyn#minksyn writing#writers#writers on tumblr#writing prompts#writing inspiration#writeblr#ehhhh i prolly coulda wrote more but ehhhhh thats not on me..#i got some shots today and a pack of candy#it was lightning before the thunder THUNDER THUNDER BRING THE LIGHTNING AND THE THUNDER#its stormed like last night and i had woke up in the middle of the night with the walls shaking#i couldve had the whole world hunt him down#matter fact#I WISH FOR UNLIMITED WISHES TO BE POSSIBLE SO I COULD WISH FOR UNLIMITED WISHES :3333
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Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself
#nearly bought a digital typewriter today. actually i DID buy a digital typewriter today. officially yes i have bought a digital typewriter.#the money for the digital typewriter has left my account but i have emailed them to cancel the order because i can't in good faith buy#a digital typewriter when i don't fucking WRITE#i thought it might help me get back into it. distraction free and while allowing me to not judge my own writing#and be continuously editing while i write and going 'i'm crap i'm crap i'm crap no one will ever read this and if they do they will think#that i'm garbage and that i should feel bad etc etc etc'#but it's too expensive and i have the feeling i wouldn't even like or use the thing once i got it#because the IDEAS! the ideas aren't coming to me. or rather they are but none of them seem to stick#i feel underconfident in writing any of them#and then i have old projects that i've always wanted to get back to like the tennis romance thing but SO much has changed since i first#started drafting it. like i don't even know if i like the main couple anymore. i kind of want to put both of them with different OCs of min#but it'd switch up the WHOLE story if i had a different cast#in fact most of the problem lies in the fact that i have this long-running bedtime story i tell myself every night with lore#and a massive cast of characters that i switch out depending on who i'm most interested in right now and every so often i incorporate new#themes and ideas and motifs and plot points sometimes based on media i've been watching because it's MY bedtime story and it doesn't matter#if i plagiarise in my own brain. but then obviously i can't plagiarise in real life#and none of my bedtime stories are GOING anywhere. sometimes i only get through a scene or two before i fall asleep#all of which means my bedtime story is not so much a sweeping epic novel but a sitcom with way too many characters#most of which are werewolves to be honest and sometimes for my own wish fulfilment one of them will walk out of my head#and take care of my problems for me by lending me £1million or murdering my best friend's ex. in my mind obviously#so it's like. it's a case of getting in there and annexing off the stuff i think i can use#it's like yeah i've definitely written several romance novels in my head in the process of this but does it matter if they're IN my HEAD#to be honest i feel like my main strength is in creating characters. like i have this one family of werewolves i've been slowly but surely#adding members to since i was like 16. maybe younger? no yeah i think i made the first one when i was 12#they're compelling to ME anyway. i care about them. it's just PLOTS. i can't plot#if a book could just be a lot of dialogue and sex scenes and silly moments and character studies i'd be alright#i also can't describe settings. don't ask me to because i can't#and now i'm just annoyed with myself because i sat down at my laptop to try to write and instead i'm here complaining about how i don't wri#and if i had the digital typewriter... i mean i'd probably still be doing this i'd just no longer have £300#i don't have the £300 anyway. i hope to christ they refund my card i'm a fucking idiot
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Independent
~10.6k words
From me: I know it's a long one, but it's a one-shot.
Warnings: angst, fluff. I've got about a thousand tropes in this one. Coworker Harry, Roommate Harry, love at first sight, he falls first and harder, one bed if you squint.
Summary: “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.
“Because of the cookies?”
“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”
She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”
Harry was tall, with soft brown locks that begged to have fingers run through them, and cool green eyes that reminded her of the sage green bridesmaid’s dress she wore to one of her friends’ weddings the year before. He wore a dark purple button down with sleeves rolled up revealing a bunch of tattoos on his left arm but only a few on the right. His voice was melodic. Smooth, like he was going to sing her a lullaby and warm like it could toast a marshmallow.
Her group chat with a couple of her office friends had been buzzing the moment Harry took residence at the desk across the aisle and one row ahead of her.
Holy fuck. Val texted. Office eye candy 😍
Do you hear that thundering sound? That’s my heart 😍 Rachel continued.
She smirked at the desks, shaking her head.
Don’t shake your head. Say something! At least you’re single, you have a chance! Val sent the messages in quick succession, making her desk partner, Hunter, look at her curiously each time it vibrated.
“Do you have an emergency?” He asked her.
She shook her head. “Nope,” she smiled. “Not at all.”
*
Harry met her and asked her out on the very first day he started his new job. They both worked in an office. Their desks only a short distance apart while they worked together. He assumed there were no rules against dating as there were several married couples within the office as he quickly found out from the shared last names and wedding photos of his coworkers lining one another’s desks.
It seemed, as long as it didn’t interfere with their work, there was no issue.
Which was fine by Harry.
He was happy to ogle her all day long and he would spoil her rotten outside of work. “Hi, m’Harry,” Harry took his opportunity to introduce himself when everyone else left for their lunch hour and she was finishing something up. Leaving them alone in the office. Harry analyzed her desk as quickly as he could.
Their office was wide open with desks back-to-back nearly identical on either side with a long aisle leading to the office of their boss at the back of the room. Her desk faced the front of the room while Harry’s faced his boss’ office. He was on the opposite side of the room, and he had a great view all day long to watch her profile as she worked. Her hair was half up, her beautiful eyes hidden behind glasses, and her mouth set in concentration as she focused on her tasks. He couldn’t see her whole body, but he watched her pull her sandy colored cardigan around her white shirt multiple times that morning, like she was chilled by the air conditioner. His eyes were drawn to her. Like she was a lighthouse, and he was out at sea. All he wanted to do was watch her, keep an eye on her, and admire how stunning she was.
She had a little plant near her window—a bunch of red poppies wrapped up in a burlap vase, tied with a red bow. He couldn’t tell if it was fake or not, but he suspected it was. There was a picture of a large group of friends right by her monitor where she was off to the side in it, one of her girlfriends had an arm around her. Her stationery was cool tones of blues, greens, and purples. Her handwriting was scribbled on a calendar in front of her and he thought the way she curved her L’s was loopy and pretty beyond belief and he wished he had one in his name just to see how it looked. But it made him want to know how she would write his name anyway. There was a date at the end of September that was marked with a heart and he wondered why. Was it an anniversary? A birthday? Or the day her favorite movie came out?
A book sat on the windowsill, and he wondered when she had the time to read it during the day or maybe it was a security blanket kind of thing. There were two paper trays stacked on top of one another to organize her work and sticky notes all over her monitor and desk with ideas, reminders, and even a couple that said things like, “we love you” and “you’re so sweet.”
“Hi, Harry,” she smiled up at him to introduce herself. “Welcome to the team, are you having a good first day?”
He nodded, smiled a little brighter and dove right in. “I think m’in love with you,” she released a laugh that was so unbelievably beautiful Harry thought it sealed the deal. “I wouldn’t laugh, kitten. M’serious,” he frowned with faux sadness. He knew he was being a tad bit ridiculous. Maybe it wasn’t right to say it while they were alone, but he didn’t want to say it in front of everyone either. Hopefully he could convince her he was harmless, even if what he said was true.
Her cheeks reddened and she smiled. “That’s... very forward,” she reminded him. “And you don’t know me.”
“I know,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I was going t’hold off on saying it until tomorrow, but m’unable t’contain it. You’re very beautiful and everyone seems t’go t’you when they need help, so I imagine you’re a lovely person,” he pointed at the sticky note that said we love you once more. She snickered again and looked away covering one cheek with her hand. “M’going t’go t’lunch before I embarrass myself further, but I jus’ wanted to tell you,” he shrugged, stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned toward the exit.
“Nice meeting you Harry,” she called after him a smile on her lips.
He grinned and turned briefly to wave before he exited. “Don’t forget t’eat, kitten,” he called.
*
But now that Harry admitted he was in love with her, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched while she worked. Her eyes darted to his side of the room often trying to see if he was staring at her. He wasn’t each time which only made her feel guilty and worse. Maybe her standoffish disposition deterred him rapidly. It was probably for the best, anyway. For a lot of reasons.
Was it disappointment she was feeling from his lack of attention? That didn’t seem right.
“Harry!” Val called from behind her. “Are you enjoying your first day?”
“Immensely,” did his eyes drift over to her and her desk? She stared at her screen pretending to work while she listened.
“Did you just move to town?” Rachel was much further towards the front of the room. He turned to give her his full attention. It made her heart skip a beat with how kind it was. His politeness was a massive turn on.
Even if she wasn’t going to let herself admire Harry from across the way just because they worked together.
“I did, m’actually looking for a place t’live if y’know of any places. M’at a hotel until m’on m’feet.”
Her heart started beating about two hundred times a minute because she knew what was going to happen before it did. She could feel the bubbling excitement from her friends on either end of the room. “Mary Poppins has a room!” Rachel shouted.
Her cheeks turned bright red.
“Her roommate just moved in with her boyfriend like last week! How perfect is that, Mary? You were all worried about finding a normal roommate. I even did his background check, so I know he’s good to go!”
Harry chuckled. “Um... who’s Mary Poppins?”
The whole office giggled. “Miss Poppins, did you not introduce yourself?” Someone else called. Hunter snickered across from her and she glared at him.
This was mortifying. Wasn’t this supposed to be a mortifying day for Harry? His first day and all? How come she was being teased? She took a deep breath and turned from her monitor to make direct eye contact with Harry who was already looking at her. Like he knew exactly who Mary Poppins was without his coworkers needing to tell him. “It’s a two-bedroom apartment. One bath. There’s a nice kitchen, all new appliances.”
Harry’s jaw dropped as she spoke. Like he was surprised it really was her. “Val looks like she’s going to bounce out of her seat,” Hunter smirked as he whispered under his breath to her while she tried not to panic at the thought of living with someone so unbelievably attractive and just admitted he was in love with her.
“Tell him about your living room!” Val sounded like she was bouncing.
“Water’s included.”
“She’s the cutest interior designer. It’s so homey it feels like a warm hug when you walk in. Like living with a rom-com character,” Rachel continued.
“Rent would be about twelve hundred,” she ignored her so-called friends.
“She bakes something once a week too, so it always smells like sugar and Christmas. It’s seriously the coziest place I’ve ever been,” Val kept going.
“In-unit washer and dryer.”
“Then she brings whatever she makes for all of us here to devour. It’s incredible,” Rachel’s sentiment was answered with a hum of agreement from the rest of her coworkers. She even heard someone say remember her apple turnover pastries?
“You get your own parking spot,” she tilted her head and looked at the ceiling to see if there was anything else she had forgotten. “I think that’s it,” she met Harry’s eyes once more, holding his gaze briefly before she turned back to her monitor.
“Harry you should totally move in, you will fall in love with the place.”
“M’sure I would,” he chuckled. “Could I see it sometime?” He asked. His attention never strayed from her face. She could sense his gaze on the side of her cheek the whole time her friends embarrassed the crap out of her. “Whenever you’re free. Doesn’t have t’be today.”
“Today’s fine!” Rachel assured him. “She doesn’t do anything on Mondays.”
She rolled her eyes. “Today is fine,” she repeated and smiled sweetly. She scribbled on a sticky note and headed to his desk to drop the address off with him. Then she made her way toward the restroom because she needed to get out of the room. Needed away from everyone teasing her good-naturedly.
But mostly so she could keep herself from telling Harry that she was quite, very possibly, in love with him as well.
*
True to her friends’ words, the place was cozy as hell. There was a basket of throw blankets next to a sofa that looked like it was comfier than his bed currently in his storage unit. Artwork dotted the walls, board games stowed below her TV, and curtains pulled back from the windows letting in the afternoon sunlight. It felt like a home.
There were three boxes in the middle of the living room between the coffee table and the TV, but it was otherwise spotless. “You’re very clean.”
She nodded. “I know, I’m sorry.”
He chuckled. “Y’don’t need t’apologize,” he put his hands in his pockets, so he didn’t do something crazy like hold her hand.
“I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, is all. You can be... messy... I won’t have a freak out or anything. Unless you leave food in the sink then we get bugs. Then I’ll be kind of freaked out.”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. I like t’think m’pretty clean myself,” he assured her. “I also...” he took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head. “Y’friends kinda put y’on the spot. I know what I admitted at lunch was kinda out of... out of the blue,” he bit his lip. “Y’don’t have t’feel obligated t’house me.”
“I don’t,” she promised. “I need a roommate and like Val said,” she shrugged. “She did your background check so I assume you won’t kill me, probably. At least not because you’re a serial killer. Maybe because I’m too clean.”
He shook his head with a smile on his lips making the most adorable dimple dent his cheek. She wanted to stick her tongue in it. “Thank you, m’really appreciative.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome, Harry. Sorry we’ll be around each other a lot.”
That didn’t seem like a bad thing at all. “I think it’ll be okay. We didn’t really talk much today,” he shrugged. “If y’get sick of me, m’sure I can find another place t’live,” he winked.
She rolled her eyes. “Won’t be necessary. But okay,” she sighed. “You can move in whenever,” she grabbed her keys from the breakfast bar where she ate most of her meals and pulled a key off the ring and handed it to him. “I have a second job some nights, but if you give me a heads up, I can help you move your stuff.”
“S’very kind of you, kitten, but y’don’t need t’do that. M’not going t’have all that much stuff. M’friend Louis lives not too far from here. He’ll come help me.”
“Offer stands,” she assured him.
Harry’s eyes scanned the room again and landed on the three boxes once more. “Are those your old roommate’s boxes?” He asked.
She nodded. “Two of them. I’m supposed to bring them to her, but they’re super heavy so I’m like... working up my mental and physical strength to bring them to my car. It’s going to be two trips and I’m just being a little lazy about it.”
“I can bring them down,” he grabbed one. It was definitely heavy. It was evident Harry had defined biceps and triceps practically outlined by the pretty purple button down, but it was manageable for him while a struggle for her. “Still probably two trips,” he nodded.
“Oh, I can take—”
“No, no,” he shook his head. “Don’t want you t’hurt yourself. Let me,” he offered and snagged her car keys off the counter.
“Oh, thank you that’s... thank you,” she swallowed, feeling grateful.
“Not a problem,” he assured her and left immediately.
When he returned after putting the second box in her car to return her keys, she had opened the third box and begun laying out a bunch of fall items to decorate their place. “Do you mind decorations?”
“Of course not,” he smiled. “Can I help?”
She blinked at him and tilted her head. “Um... I can handle it. If you need to pack or go... get dinner or something.”
“M’fine,” he smiled, setting her keys on the counter and glanced around the room. He noted there were hooks screwed into the wall at various points. “Can I hang something for you? M’good for height.”
Harry wasn’t that much taller than her, she was definitely taller than the average woman, but it still meant she needed to drag out a stepstool when she wanted to put up her art and decorations. “That would be awesome,” she nodded. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem, kitten,” he smiled.
*
Harry had a dreamy smile on his face as they talked and got to know one another. He hadn’t brought up that he was in love with her. Nor did he make her feel the least bit uncomfortable. Like it had never happened.
Why did it feel like she was disappointed about the prospect of that?
Maybe he wasn’t in love with her. Maybe the initial reaction of seeing someone roughly the same age as him at work made his senses a bit wild for a moment.
No. She wasn’t disappointed. Everything about Harry being in love with her would be a recipe for disaster and it was for the best that he didn’t fall in love with her.
It was just something a little bit out of the blue to say to the only person who was single in the office. Everyone had a significant other they had met within the office or elsewhere. She was the last single person. The same was true with her friend group as well. Everyone in her life had been paired off except for her.
He was her coworker. He was going to be her roommate.
But right as he left, he sent her heart into a frenzy. They were by the door. She wanted to make sure he got to his car safely even though it was a safe neighborhood. It was just the way she was. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asked.
She stared at him in shock, her lips parting like she was mid-sentence, and he had interrupted. “Seriously?” She giggled reflexively, but her cheeks felt hot. They had a lovely evening together getting to know each other. Harry helped with all the decorations and yes, in its own way it was a bit intimate. But he couldn’t possibly think that it was a good idea to date his roommate.
“Yes,” he nodded.
“Harry, I can’t date my roommate.”
“Pretty sure s’how most rom-coms start,” he smiled. “S’okay. I’ll ask again later. Have a nice night,” he grinned with a wave and walked toward his car. Leaving her jaw slack, as she watched her roommate head off into the night.
*
Harry moved in later that week. He asked her to come with him to his storage unit to see if there was anything she would want in the apartment, but she had pretty much everything. It seemed silly to bring a double of everything when she owned all of it already.
But Harry would forever be grateful and indebted to his sister for her kindness as he watched her examine some of his belongings. One in particular caught her eye making him think that he had won the lottery with how excited she was.
She couldn’t believe Harry had a stand mixer and she was nearly in awe of all the attachments to help bake and cook easier. “I’ve always wanted one of these. They’re so expensive,” she blinked. “How do you have one?”
“M'sister got one when she got married,” he explained. “But she doesn’t bake and said it was taking up space in her kitchen.”
“Can we bring it to the apartment? Do you mind?”
The way her eyes lit up at the sight of it? Pure joy and happiness? Yeah. It was going to the apartment. If he ever moved out, he would probably leave it with her too just so she could always look that happy. “Course. Anything else?”
She looked around the organized storage room sifting through the items in different bins while Harry searched for some of his own trinkets that he thought he would want after his initial move. His room and bathroom items had already been moved in with the help of Louis. “This is stunning,” her voice full of awe once more, grabbing a print from behind a shelf. Harry wasn’t sure where it was from. He thought his mum purchased it to make his old place feel like home. “This would look amazing in the living room.”
“Bring it,” he smiled. She tucked it under her arm and continued searching. Harry grabbed a few more odds and ends and she plucked out a few more things she thought would work with the apartment’s décor and mainly helpful kitchen tools.
“It’s your place too, Harry,” she reminded him. “Is there anything you want there?”
He smiled, shook his head. “Y’seem t’have everything, kitten. M’not picky.”
“I don’t want you to feel like a guest,” she pouted. “Like you should bring these,” she gestured to pictures of his friends and family in a bin. “I can move some of mine to my room so you can put them up.”
He grinned. “Sure,” he shrugged. “If y’think s’what I should do.”
“Alright, could we come back in a few weeks and see if there’s anything else you want once you’re settled a bit?”
“Course.”
They gathered as much as they could, Harry would have to come back for the stand mixer. Harry closed the trunk and moved to open the passenger door for her before her hand fully pulled it out of the way. He waited until she was tucked into the seat safely and he handed her the car keys. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here,” she smiled.
“Hey kitten,” he said leaning against the door before he left. “Will y’go on a date with me?”
“Harry,” she laughed the same way she did the last time he asked her. The same way she laughed when he told her he was in love with her. “You can’t be serious!”
“Deadly,” he smiled at the delight on her face. The pretty pink color rising to her cheeks. “Will you?”
“I can’t go on a date with you, Harry,” she looked at him with a bit of sympathetic pity. Like he was ridiculous for asking. Again. Which he was.
“Then I’ll ask again another time,” he shrugged, closed her car door, and headed to get the stand mixer that made her happy.
*
“Hey Poppy, did y’want t’go get lunch with me?” Her eyes didn’t move from her screen. “Poppy,” he repeated. “Poppy,” he sang. She glanced around and realized she was the only one in the room.
“Me?”
He chuckled. “Yes, you.”
Her eyebrows pinched together. “Why did you call me Poppy?”
“Well, m’assuming s’your favorite flower,” it was a safe bet since there was a small bouquet right beside her. “Also, everyone else calls y’Mary, Poppins, or Miss Poppins. Which I still don’t know why, but I wanted t’be different. Want you t’know s’me when y’hear me talking t’you.”
Her heart raced. Harry was utterly adorable. “I see. Sorry,” she smirked.
“Anyway,” he came over to stand by her desk. “Do y’want t’get lunch?”
“Harry, I told you I don’t date.”
“M’not asking as a date. M’asking as your coworker who has never seen y’eat a bite of food while you’re at work. M’asking as your concerned roommate who worries y’don’t eat until y’get home for dinner. And I don’t even want t’think ‘bout how long y’go without eating when you’re at your second job.”
She smiled at his thoughtfulness. “I don’t go out to lunch with everyone,” she explained. “I don’t know if you noticed, but people always seem to need me while I’m here,” she gestured to her desk. “Lunch is the only time I get a minute to myself. And I can get caught up a bit before the afternoon and everyone comes back.”
“Well do you bring lunch?” He asked, his frown deepening still worried she wasn’t eating.
“I do, it’s in the breakroom. I’ll get it in a minute,” she promises. “Go, you’re wasting your lunch hour.”
“Okay,” he sighed. He stopped in the doorway of the entrance to the office. “Hey Poppy,” he smiled.
“Yeah?” She asked without looking up from her screen.
“Now that y’mention it though, will y’go out with me?”
*
At home, Harry took the trash out because he said it was a boy-job and she shouldn’t be out in the dark by a dumpster. It made his skin crawl just to think about it. He made her promise that she wouldn’t take out the trash and he didn’t mind if he had to go out twice in one day. She thought it was ridiculous. But she agreed.
He cleaned up after himself checking with her to see if it was up to her standard. Even though she assured him he didn’t have to meet her standard. His cologne overtook their bathroom, and it was so comforting she took long hot showers at night just to amplify the scent filling her nose. Harry stretched across the sofa and scrolled through various show options but often didn’t find something that piqued his interest. Instead, he would put on some background noise and read on an eReader. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration.
Harry bought groceries and didn’t ask for any money from them. “M’sure you’ll buy stuff too,” he shrugged. Plus, she already had all the cleaning supplies, laundry detergent, dishwasher pods, and the like. Harry hardly had anything useful so buying groceries was the least he could do.
Except the stand mixer. People moaned about her cookies. Harry got to see her make them firsthand and the very scene with an apron around her body, her smile bright as she tested various stages of the dough, it did wonders for Harry. Some kind of nearly pornographic idea that only Harry would think was pornographic. “Will you try one?” She asked, hope in her voice.
Was he supposed to say no to her? Absolutely not. So, he tried one. “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.
“Because of the cookies?”
“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”
She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”
He frowned, faking his disappointment (although he was the slightest bit disappointed). “I’ll try again,” he shrugged and took three more cookies from her cooling rack before returning to the sofa to read.
*
“Mary!” Val sang. “Do you have the stain stick?” She called from behind. She opened a drawer, eyes unmoving from her screen and held it out behind her for it to be passed back by her other coworkers. Harry chuckled.
It killed her that she knew his chuckle without looking. “S’impressive,” he murmured quietly. But she could hear it from across the way.
“That’s nothing,” Rachel said from the other end of the room. “Miss Poppins,” she smiled delightedly. “I have a missing button,” she told her.
That was the other drawer, a small little sewing kit to fix a button.
“Hair tie!” Someone called from the other side of the room.
“Lint roller!”
They all called out items and she had every single one.
“Do you have anything stronger to put in this coffee?” Their boss was walking up the aisle and paused at her desk. She smirked, opened the bottom drawer and placed a mini bottle of liquid on the edge of the desk. The whole office laughed as he snatched it and headed to his office. “You’re getting a raise, Poppins,” he called.
Hunter turned to look at Harry. “I gave her the nickname,” he explained.
“I get it,” he chuckled.
“If you need it, chances are she has it.”
“If she doesn’t, she adds it,” Val explained.
Her smile was soft. Harry thought it was sweet how her coworkers adored her. It was clear she was loved by them. Her thoughtfulness was admirable. Harry wondered how he was supposed to top that. No wonder she didn’t want to go out with him. Why would she want to go out with anyone when she was ten times sweeter than anyone she knew?
*
Her best friend Josephine (Joey) was helping her in the bathroom when Harry got home from the gym one Friday evening. “Holy hell you said he was cute, not hot,” she gaped.
“Aw, y’think m’cute, Poppy?” He asked winking at her. Her cheeks flushed red, making it so she didn’t need any of the blush she was putting on her cheeks. He leaned against the doorframe; arms crossed over his chest. He was sweaty and really wanted to get in the shower, but he didn't mind a bit of time to stare at his sweet roommate.
“I should have known. Only a man that uses such high-end cologne would be this hot.”
“Didn’t you buy Matt high-end cologne?”
“Hence why I think he’s so hot,” Joey beamed. Her friend laughed quietly, shaking her head as she finished with her makeup.
“Sorry Harry, we’ll be out of the way in a minute.”
“Take y’time. M’not in a rush.”
“Oh, you should come out!” Joey squealed. “Harry, please! She’s always by herself keeping an eye on us it would be nice to have someone keep her company!”
“Thanks, Mom. I don’t need a babysitter,” she rolled her eyes. “No offense, Harry.”
“S’okay,” he chuckled. “I don’t want t’impose. Plus m’in need of a shower.”
“Don’t let us stop you,” Joey smiled widely gesturing to the shower.
“Can you not?” She rolled her eyes and looked at Harry with apologetic eyes.
He laughed again and shook his head. “Y’can call if y’need something,” he assured her.
“Harry, please come out! You can meet us there!” Joey said again.
She looked at him with a soft smile. A look in her eyes said he wasn’t going to get out of it. Not if he didn’t have a really good reason. But truthfully? He didn’t need a reason to get out of it. Spending time with her outside of work, outside of the apartment, and errands like the grocery store and running to the post office had him excited to see her in another frame of light. Did she let loose? He would love to dance with her. Even if it was only as friends, roommates, fuck as coworkers even. How did she act around her friends versus her coworkers? God, he was obsessed.
“I can wait for you,” she suggested, her voice soft. Harry smiled.
“Thanks, Poppy.”
*
Her eyes scanned for her friends as she sat on a stool at a high top beside Harry. It was like watching a teacher on a field trip counting heads to make sure everyone was still present. The table was littered with drinks all of which she minded just as intently.
Harry just gazed at her as he sipped his drink. He helped as needed pushing drinks toward her friends as they came back from dancing. “Y’don’t dance?”
“Oh...maybe later. I’m not very good,” she admitted. “I like dancing with Joey because she’s worse than me.”
She caught the eye of one of her friends, Hailey, approaching and she reached into her purse strapped around the front of her for something. Harry watched as Hailey made it to her. “Thanks Mary,” she gushed taking the bandage from her and made her way for the bathroom. It was pretty wild she could anticipate whatever her friends needed. It was like at work. Harry was a bit awestruck and looked at her with a surprised expression. She shrugged and continued sipping her drink.
Jaylen was next. Joey’s twin brother; they had the same facial expressions--mainly the smile that Joey had on her face when she suggested Harry shower in front of her and his favorite person.
The same smile appeared on his face and told Harry he was going to say something just as delightful as Joey had said of Harry. Sure enough, Jaylen draped an arm around her and leaned into her ear to whisper something over the sound of the music. She rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. His face turned serious and he whispered something again.
She frowned. Then reached into her purse again. Out came a tampon which he slid discreetly into his pocket and then she glanced at his outfit twisting her lips to the side in disappointment.
After a brief thought, she pulled her purse over her body and laid it on the table. The long cardigan she wore came off next, leaving her in a black tank top that tucked into her jeans. It hugged her curves like a glove making Harry’s mouth water and he glanced away worried he would look like a creep. He finished his beer before Jaylen grinned and thanked her profusely and walked away. She took a deep breath and put her purse back into position before wrapping one arm in front of he protectively, gripping the front of her shoulder.
“Are y’cold?” He asked.
She shook her head.
But Harry was sitting beside her. He could see the goosebumps on her skin. She selflessly gave her sweater to her friend for whatever reason (Harry wasn’t totally sure, but he suspected it was menstrual related). But she was going to pretend like she wasn’t cold? Harry was definitely in love. In case it wasn’t obvious by the moment he met her. Boldly, Harry reached below her bar stool and tugged it toward him. She jostled a bit but he maintained her balance. Then he draped his arm around her body pulling her toward him further and he couldn’t help but notice she didn’t pull away. She didn’t make a sound and her facial expression didn’t change.
But Harry felt her body relax into his side, her head dipping ever so slightly toward his shoulder. He smiled softly and brought his lips closer to her ear so she could hear. “Y’don’t have t’lie t’me, Poppy. M’your roommate and all. I know y’like the apartment a toasty temperature.”
She smirked and tilted her head up. Their eyes connected, their mouths only two inches apart. “Thank you,” she said kindly.
Harry really enjoyed holding her.
*
At the end of the night, she rounded up her friends ensuring those who said they could drive actually could and if they couldn’t she called for Ubers until everyone was safely on their way home. Jaylen’s girlfriend, Maya, had her green sweater wrapped around her white pants. She thanked her profusely, drunkenly.
Joey and Matt waved goodbye. “Bye Hot Roommate,” Joey called waving to Harry specifically.
“Jesus, Joey,” Matt rolled his eyes. “Nice meeting you Harry,” he called.
Once everyone was gone, she rubbed her hands on her arms to keep the blood flowing and warming her skin. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders again and tucked her into his side as they headed for her parked car a couple blocks away. “Go on a date with me," he spoke straight forward. Hoping if he didn't look, it wouldn't seem like as a massive deal--almost like he would trick her into a date.
She elbowed him. “I can’t go out with a coworker, Harry. Or my roommate for that matter.”
He shrugged. “I’ll ask later,” he boldly kissed the top of her head. Fortunately, she didn't seem to mind. Harry was sure to keep that in his head for future reference. He would most definitely be kissing her again. “You’re an extremely sweet girl, Poppy. Selfless, lovely, kind,” he listed. “Whoever y’end up with, m’going t’be very jealous,” he assured her.
She snorted and laughed quietly under her breath. “Thank you, Harry.”
*
For months it continued with similar routines, feelings, and questions. They grew closer as friends. At work he admired her from his desk from across the office. When she didn’t go to lunch, he reminded her to eat and not work too hard. At home, he grumbled that her loophole of taking the trash out in the daytime was not the point of his promise. He still bought groceries each week trying to figure out all the things she enjoyed eating.
He helped her clean the apartment and when it was getting cooler outside, she asked to join him at the gym. Her outfits were cute and made guys stare at her as she worked out, unbeknownst to her. She asked for help from Harry which made him feel like he won an Olympic medal. His face was smug as the men in the gym finally stopped looking at her. Thinking Harry was lucky enough to be hers.
It made him happy to help her figure out new machines and with her sets of weightlifting (even though she didn’t like it).
Everywhere they went, people ogled her. She was so kind. Little kids would smile at her in grocery store lines and wave like it was a game of peekaboo. Dogs tugged on their leashes hoping to get a pet from her around the loop she ran in the neighborhood. Their elderly next door neighbor tried telling her a hundred times that she had a grandson her age and he would love to date her (that one drove Harry the most crazy).
She had her head leaning in her palm as she watched the stand mixer beat the brownie ingredients like it was the most interesting thing in the world. But Harry was watching her; so he was, in fact, watching the most interesting thing in the world.
He leaned against the wall just beside the kitchen entrance. “Poppy?” He asked. She looked up at him. “Go on a date with me, please," his expression soft.
She was finally getting used to it. She gave herself a lot of credit. It was pretty crazy she hadn’t caved yet. Harry was so lovely. Not to mention attractive. At the gym, his muscles rippled and glistened with sweat. The outline of every abdominal muscle was sinful. It was a miracle she didn’t drop her own weights or fall on the treadmill when she caught sight of him. It drove her crazy that the women there gazed at him longingly; like he was something to eat. But was she really any better?
She smiled, the blush on her cheeks still prominent, but not as deep. She was used to her heart skipping a beat, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach each time he asked. “That's very sweet, Harry. But I don’t date.”
It was six months since he met her when he finally asked. “Why not?”
She shrugged. He thought she wasn’t going to say anything more, so he frowned, sighed, and headed for the living room to get back to his book. “I just don’t date, Harry. I like being friends,” she told him.
He grumbled something about still being friends even if they dated but she either didn’t hear or pretended not to hear. Either way, it was quiet for a few beats. “If I hadn’t told you I was in love with you that first day, would that have changed your answer?”
She giggled and shook her head. “No.”
“Okay,” he shrugged. Ever determined. He smiled widely at her. “I’ll keep asking then.”
*
When she got dressed up for a family wedding and clicked down the hall in heels and a dress that flowed over her like she was the bride (only wearing green of course, not white). Her hair was curled and pinned so prettily Harry thought he was seeing a real angel in the flesh. “Oh, come on, Poppy,” he groaned and covered his eyes with his hand dramatically. “S’not fighting fair,” he frowned.
She grinned, her cheeks warming more than they had in a while. “I look okay?”
“Stunning,” he grumbled. “M’so jealous I won’t get t’dance with you,” he pouted.
She shook her head. “I don’t usually dance at weddings when I go alone,” she explained.
“Well, y’should’ve told me. I would’ve been your date.”
“Harry—”
“Platonic date,” he rolled his eyes. “This is worse than when y’wore that pencil skirt t’work,” he reminded her. She snickered and shook her head while she looked at her phone. She sucked her lip into her mouth and sighed wincing slightly and then turned to her room again. After several minutes she returned in a different dress. She was equally stunning, but she looked a little forlorn. “An outfit change?”
She nodded. “Yeah,” she shrugged. “My sister is wearing green.”
Harry frowned. “So?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just...” she shrugged. “It’s alright. I like this dress just fine.”
But it wasn’t green. She looked so pretty in green. It complimented her skin tone so perfectly. She looked stunning. Like she was a queen. “But—”
“Seriously, Harry. It’s fine.”
The muted purple dress looked lovely on her as well. But Harry thought the green made her look otherworldly. He wanted the happiness back in her eye. The light that sparked when he complimented her. “Well when can y’wear it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Season’s almost over for a wintergreen like that,” she shrugged. “Maybe next year.”
Harry frowned. But then he had a wonderful idea to help both her dress and himself. “Go on a date with me, Poppy.”
The smile reappeared on her face, and she shook her head. “I can’t, Harry.”
“Please? Do it for the sake of that dress,” he pleaded. “We don’t even have t’call it a date. An outing. An adventure. Whatever y’want. Y’jus’ need t’wear it before y’can’t.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Harry. But I can’t.”
He sighed. “You’re welcome, Poppy.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll steal you a cupcake. I heard they come from this bakery that I love and if it doesn’t make it home to you, then we’re going to have to go there anyway.”
It didn’t replace a date. But he liked the way she smiled. And going to a bakery together was inherently a couple-y thing to do. So he would take what he could get.
“Sure, Poppy. I’d love to.”
*
She didn’t need people. Needing people had only ever broken her heart. She never asked for help ever. Well...only when they were at the gym but that was a safety thing more than anything.
Even when she should have asked.
Harry didn’t notice until he drove her to a house party that her friends didn’t invite her too. She was sleepy, it was obvious. Leggings, oversized sweater. Her hair was braided loosely and falling apart because she had woken in the middle of the night to answer a message. Harry was in the middle of a good book. Unable to put it down when she ventured into the living room. A yawn falling from her lips. Her eyes barely open. It took several questions and repeated convincing to let him drive her since he was awake, and it looked like she was going to pass out while standing.
Harry insisted on coming in even as she told him to stay in the car, but he refused. She found her friends, her voice was soft as she encouraged Jaylen to leave. A little over his limit and Joey and Maya were about just as gone and unable to convince Jaylen to go with them. A guy from across the room made a joke about Mommy coming to save him. As her pugnacious friend made a turn to deal with the offensive person, she stopped him. She was quick, grabbed his arm, and held tight.
When they returned to the apartment she corralled her friends into their sleeping arrangements. Maya and Jaylen in her bed, Joey on the sofa. “Sorry I took your reading spot,” she whispered as she tucked a blanket around Joey. She snagged another blanket and curled into the only other chair in the living room. “Thank you for driving,” she smiled, closing her sleepy eyes.
“You’re gonna sleep there?” He asked. She nodded, barely moving. Like she was already half-way to dreaming. Harry snagged her out of the chair, cradling her and bringing her to his room.
“Harry,” she protested.
“We’re grown adults,” he reminded her. “We can share a bed without it being weird. S’like a hotel room.”
“Harry,” she repeated, her objection evident in her tone. “I can’t—”
“M’not letting y’sleep in a chair or on the floor. So, it’s m’bed or y’aren’t sleeping,” he shrugged.
She sighed. Too tired to oppose any further, thankfully. Harry laid her atop the covers and draped another blanket over her. He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and slid beneath his sheets and glanced at the sleeping angel beside him. He smiled. He liked the way she looked in his bed. Liked the way she seemed comfortable and sleepy beside him. His bed felt warm with her beside him. Even though she wasn’t touching him. She smelled good in his room too.
“Night, Harry,” she mumbled.
“Good night, Poppy,” he answered, reached out, squeezed her hand before releasing it so she wouldn’t break a piece of his heart by telling him they shouldn’t.
It was easy to fall asleep with her beside him.
It was even easier to dream of her with her intoxicating presence in his room as well.
*
Harry noticed how drained she seemed when the weather continued to get warmer. Her friends all had birthdays around the same time, and she was a mess of scheduling and reserving birthday dinners and planning things for all of them. Did Harry miss her birthday? He would have to ask. He hoped he didn’t. He hoped her friends would take the time to plan for her the way she did for them.
Work was approaching a busy season, and everyone kept coming to her more and more throughout the day. He could see the anxiety on her face as her growing to-do list looked nearly unmanageable. Harry tried to go to others if he had issues. But every time he asked someone else a question, they called out for Mary Poppins, and she would glance up and look at Harry with a sad smile asking how she could help.
Harry was worried she wasn’t eating her lunch. When everyone else left, her eyes were hidden behind those glasses, her face concentrating and relieved for the reprieve from people calling her name for help with work or needing something like a pen or a screwdriver. Sometimes Harry hated his job. Not because it was difficult. But it seemed like everyone in the office was incompetent. Or weaponizing their incompetence and foisting their tasks onto the lovely woman who would never say no to them.
Her friends did it too. With all the planning and such.
The poor thing looked exhausted. She didn’t join Harry at the gym and her second job seemed like the only time she got to herself. “I miss reading,” she grumbled when she got home late from her shift. She kicked her shoes off and flopped onto the opposite end of the sofa. “My eyes are exhausted though,” she rubbed them for good measure. “I think I would fall asleep if I tried to read. I think I need to wake up earlier and read.”
Harry snorted. “Don’t burn yourself out, Poppy,” he rolled his eyes. “What are y’reading?”
“I’ve been trying t’read this book for months,” she pulled it from the shelf below the coffee table. He had seen it tucked there for a while. He grabbed it from her, skimmed the back of the book, and opened to the first chapter.
Then, he started reading.
Out loud.
“Harry,” she whispered her eyes wide.
“Yeah?” He asked, pointing at the sentence where he stopped and looked at her curiously. “M’starting over, because I want t’know what’s happening,” he smiled. Her face looked so shocked and confused. Sad even. Like she didn’t know what emotion she was supposed to feel.
“You don’t have to—”
He shook his head, and continued reading before she could finish her sentence.
Harry read three chapters before he carried her sleeping self to bed.
*
Something changed in Harry. He almost turned into a stalker. He tracked her movements and routines for a week. He knew most of them. But he really tracked them. The daily ones were easiest. She went for a run in the morning, he followed her lead and didn’t say a word. He went to her favorite coffee shop and paid for her favorite drink for a week’s worth of drinks in advance.
He wished they carpooled, but she was so busy. So he timed his arrival so that he was at the entrance door holding it open for her. When everyone left to get lunch, he heated up her food and brought it to her desk before leaving silently.
One day, there was a note on her dashboard saying she had a full tank of gas. When she arrived home after her second job, she noted her spare car key was on Harry’s key ring. At home, her laundry was in the wash. The shirts she didn’t like to put in the dryer were hung in the bathroom.
Harry could see it. She was cracking. It was the first time someone had done something for her it seemed. The first time someone so selflessly did things for her, anticipated her needs the way she anticipated everyone else’s.
Her throat felt tight as she looked at Harry in the kitchen, making her favorite dinner—a soup that took hours and hours to make.
He didn’t even know it was her birthday that day which made her heart feel sicker than ever.
“Poppy,” he smiled sweetly placing a bowl in front of her exhausted figure.
“Yeah?” She whispered.
If she wasn't so in awe, she would have realized where his tone was. What was coming next. “Go on a date with me, kitten.”
“I can’t.”
“S’not so hard,” he assured her. “You sit across from me and be yourself because m’already in love with you,” he reminded her sweetly. An impish grin on his pretty pink lips. That dimple she wanted to sink her tongue into on display. “I tell y’how stunning y’look, I pay for you t’eat. I feed you a dessert of your choosing that you’re probably too full t’eat and then I can kiss you wherever y’want. Lips, cheek, forehead,” he shrugged. “Then we come home, and I’ll read a chapter of your book. Y’can decide if y’want t’go on a second date.”
She giggled, her cheeks red. “I can’t, Harry,” she looked at him apologetically, but she felt herself melting as much as the soup warmed her insides. It was ridiculous to eat soup in the middle of the summer. But Harry made it for her anyway.
His heart deflated a little. He wasn't kidding. He was definitely in love. He had to be because there was no other way he could explain the feelings he had for her. Someone so thoughtful, so pretty, sweet, and funny.
Harry had asked her out at least a hundred times. Around Christmas, she got her hair cut and he always found her beautiful, but he asked her almost every day following her new hair style for a month straight. Each time she said she couldn't. She didn't date.
For the first time in the near year since he had first asked her, first met her, he realized she said she can’t go on a date with him. She didn’t date. That he was crazy.
Not that she didn’t want to. She didn’t say no.
Hope bloomed inside him.
*
She didn’t need anything. She didn’t need anybody. It was clear someone or maybe many had let her down so many times. He watched her doing everything she could to make this party as nice as humanly possible for Hailey. Not that Hailey didn’t deserve it, but no one had done anything like this for her. Harry only found out it was her birthday after the fact, and he felt like shit for it. Even though she assured him that was one of the best birthdays she ever had.
All he did was make her soup.
She deserved so much more.
It almost seemed too obvious that they hadn’t done anything for her remotely as lovely as she did.
“You’re staring, Styles,” she murmured without looking up from the chair while he lounged on the sofa.
“Go on a date with me,” he smiled.
She blushed, shook her head. “You’re crazy.”
“You haven’t said no.”
"I've said no about a hundred thousand times, Harry," she rolled her eyes.
Why was it now? Why did he want to tell her what he was thinking about the whole situation now? But it was in his chest. He had to say it. Had to tell her.
“No, you’ve never said no,” he shook his head and looked at her head on, while she continued looking at her to do list, her planner. Her poor neglected book waiting to be read by Harry because her tired eyes couldn’t. She looked up at him and smirked. Ready to protest once more, but Harry shook his head again. “I remember everything you've said t'me. I would remember a 'no,' it would probably kill me t’hear y’say, no kitten. Y'call me crazy, y'say y'can’t or that y'don’t date. Never, not once, have y'ever said y'don’t want t'go on a date with me. Nor a flat out no. So m'going t’keep asking until y'say y'don’t want to. Because I think you do want t'go out with me but for some reason y'don't want t'allow yourself t'be happy. T'let someone else in. M'not going t'stop asking. Not until I hear y'say "Harry Styles I would rather die than go on a date with you. I never want to go out with you." Maybe that makes me conceited or creepy. M’sure it does make me crazy. But I don’t care. I want t'go on a date with you. I want t'go on a million dates with you, actually. So m'not giving up until y'call me creepy or y'say y'don’t want to.”
She swallowed like there was something stuck in her throat. Her eyes didn't move from her lap.
"Kitten," he murmured. She didn’t look up. “Poppy,” he whispered. She finally met his green-eyed gaze again. His expression soft, pleading. “Go on a date with me,” his voice was soft. Harry swore his heart stopped beating because if he was wrong, if she really was saying no all those times, he wasn't sure he could ever stop asking her. The idea he would never get to take her out to eat and order her favorite dessert. He wouldn't see a movie and wrap his arm around her shoulders and that was completely unfair. He wanted to offer his jacket to her when it rained and hold her hand while walking through a museum. "Poppy," he repeated.
She bit her lip, her lips opening and closing like she wasn't sure which word was going to pop out. “I can’t,” she whispered. Her eyes looking at him in a way that he could read right through her. They screamed at him, please don’t stop asking me.
As if he could ever. Harry smiled. "Okay," he shrugged, hope and adoration for her flooding him. "I'll ask again tomorrow."
A sad smile graced her face. "You're crazy," she whispered again.
"Only 'bout you, Poppy.”
*
Harry felt like he was getting sick. Probably due to the sweet girl in his apartment who had worn herself so thin and weary that she had inadvertently brought illness home to him. His head was killing him. His pillow was calling for him the way he wished his favorite stubborn woman would call him.
He didn't even know if she was home. But honestly, he was glad. If she knew he was sick, she would dote on him. Even if she was starting to fell unwell. The thoughts of her were never too far from his mind. He would never be too sick, too lost, too far away from her that she could leave his thoughts.
Sleeping was one of his favorite hobbies because he loved to see her in his dreams. Loved to see the unaffected, carefree, beautiful, stubborn woman. The angel that enjoyed affection both giving and receiving.
It was his nightly dream. The one where she snuggled with him, and it was like they had been together twenty years and not zero. The one where he could taste her lips (even if in his dream she tasted like nothing) he knew it was wrong. She probably tasted like chocolate or caramel or something deliriously sweet.
Unfortunately, his phone vibrated below his pillow pulling him from his perfect beautiful dream.
“Harry?”
He squinted at his phone. Head aching, throat sore. Curious as to why he didn’t have the number saved. “Speaking.”
“Oh, thank god,” the voice sighed. “It’s Joey,” she said. “Harry. Something’s wrong. She won’t stop crying and she won’t say anything but your name.”
He leapt out of bed. Illness forgotten even if he was dizzy. His heart thudded like a chorus of drums, and he didn’t even grab shoes as he raced out of his room, snagging his wallet and keys off the counter as he exited the apartment.
He listened to Joey say a few more things. Something about being out at a club. She never left the bar area. There was no way someone had hurt her. But Harry drove through the night with his heart in his throat like someone had hurt her. He wasn’t sure seeing her would even calm him. He knew where Joey lived, fortunately, so he sped as quickly as he could. The ache in his head and his throat was lost behind him along the drive.
He didn’t knock as he hurried barefoot into Joey’s apartment. Matt was coming from the kitchen and making his way down the hall. He looked at Harry sadly as he approached the main room.
“Poppy?” he whispered as he entered the room, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. "Kitten," he frowned and knelt in front of her. He picked her face up between his and he scanned her looking for signs of injury. Anxiety was in every inch of his body. But she fell into his arms before he could look any longer. Sobbing harder than when he entered. “M'here. M'here, baby. It’s okay. M'here," he kissed the top of her head, cupping the back of her head with one hand. The other arm winding around her and squeezing her tight to his body. “Oh kitten,” he sighed, sadness coating his voice. His heart ached. Like it was going to snap in half if she cried any longer. “M’sorry, baby. M'here. S’okay. Tell me. Please. I’ll make it better,” he promised.
Her sobs continued, like she was unable to speak. "Harry," she whimpered.
"M'here, Poppy, s'okay," he assured her even if it wasn't. "Baby," he frowned pulling away to look at her her tearful eyes. He tugged her back to his embrace and continued to soothe her. He rubbed his hand up and down her back hoping it was comforting as he hoped it was.
Harry caught Joey's eye, who looked over from the entryway and smiled weakly.
"You good?" She mouthed. Harry nodded and when he glanced back, her friend was gone.
*
Harry kissed the top of her head for the hundredth time. He continued rubbing his hand down her spine. His head was still screaming.
But she was well worth it. Her cheeks were streaked with salt lines. Her eyes puffy and red around the edges. He had pulled her to him so they could snuggle into the corner of the couch. Her body tucked between the back cushion and Harry's body. Like he didn't want anyone to see her if they entered the room.
“Harry?” Her voice was raw.
“Hmm?” He tucked her hair behind her ear and skimmed his fingertip along the same path repeatedly.
“Will you go on a date with me?” She whispered.
He smiled lazily. His heart exploding in his ribcage. “God, Poppy, I don't know. I have t'check m'schedule.” She smacked his chest with no weight behind it. He kissed the top of her head. “I’d take y’right now. Whenever y’want.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing t’be sorry for.”
"I have issues."
"We can work on them together."
"I don't know if you'll..." She trailed off.
"If I'll what?" He brushed his thumb on her cheek.
She took a deep breath. "I love love, Harry. I love watching people get married. I love when people have babies and grow a family. I want to have babies. I love reading romance novels and watching silly rom-coms where you can predict the ending before the movie even starts."
"Sounds pretty romantic and easy, Poppy," he murmured.
She swallowed continuing. "I will do a lot for you because I believe that's the way love is supposed to be. I want to make your life easier, and I want to do things that make you happy because I think happiness and love are in short supply and I want those books and rom-coms to be real."
Harry nodded. "Well—"
"I've never had that. I had a boyfriend for four years and..." she sniffled. "When we broke up, I said that I wouldn't do that again. I wouldn’t devote myself so completely to someone that wouldn't give me half as much. Then I met my next boyfriend and at first, I thought it was right, finally. It was equal. He loved me the right way, I mean. The way I thought I wanted, deserved... But then it was like he got tired of doing things. I don't know. Maybe my love language is acts of service. I don't know. I’m not making sense, I'm sorry. But..." she swallowed. "I broke it off after only two years that time. I just don't think I can be loved the right way... not forever. I don't know. I sound so selfish, don’t I? I don’t know why you want to go out with me so badly. I want someone to love me the way I love them, and I don’t think that’s...fair."
It was why she always had everything. Why she planned and hosted parties. Why she never drank and always took care of her friends. She loved everyone that was lucky to cross paths with her, with her whole, big, beautiful heart.
Harry tilted her chin up. "M’going to love you the right way,” he promised. “M’going to love you the way y’want because that's what y’deserve. If I love you anything less than you deserve then... well... I don't know what, Poppy. If that’s the case m’probably dead because s’the only possible explanation,” she snorted and tears dripped down her cheeks again but not like the night before. “But it's not going to be a problem, kitten. M’going to love you the way your books love. The way a rom-com loves. M’going to love you the way you love everyone that walks into your life. The way you so selflessly devote your kindness to them. M’going to love you the way you love," he promised. “Because s’an honor to love you,” he assured her. “S’an honor to be loved by you.”
She looked away from his gaze, closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his chest. His throat was aching again. He was really tired, but he would suffer her wrath and frustration of going on about this later. He knew that she would be beside herself knowing he was sick and dealing with her anyway. But where else would he be? "Harry," she whispered finally. He met her eyes the back of his fingers skimming her cheek.
"What, Poppy?"
"Do you love me already?"
"Of course I do."
She sniffled, her face crumpling with relief. Like all of it had been a trick up until then. "Okay," she whispered. “Can we go home?”
“Course, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head and moved slowly to get up from the sofa. All of his muscles ached from sickness and from the awkward but perfect position of holding her all night in the cramped little space.
He held his hand out for her to take as she stood next. “Harry,” she whispered softly.
“Hmm?” He hummed and looked at her with a soft expression that made her stomach flip, her heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, Poppy?"
“I’m in love with you too.”
--
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#harry#harry styles writing#harry styles fluff#harry styles blurb#harry styles blurbs#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#independent#coworker!Harry#roommate!harry
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The Disappointment.
This may or may not have multiple parts, depending on whether I feel like writing more. (dcxdp, demon twin au.) also based on some post I read a while ago... can't remember for the life of me who wrote it but if any of you guys do, let me know.
"This way," Mother hissed, snatching Danny's wrist tightly. Damian lagged behind, twisting his head this way and that, keeping an eye out for anyone following them.
"Quick now, we must hurry." She hissed again, her eyes darting back and forth, eyeing the small nicks and scratches she had left previously to lead them away.
Danny glanced back at his brother, watching as he scowled and defiantly lifted his head. His baby brother would die before he allowed anyone to see him defeated.
Glancing back to the path, Danny watched as Mother took down anyone who was in their way, killing without hesitation. As he watched another body hit the floor, Grandfather's muttered words from when he left dinner, ran through the back of his head, "Bring the disappointment to me after sundown. I've seen enough."
There was nowhere in the world they could hide that Grandfather wouldn't follow. They would be hunted for the rest of their short lives, hiding in fear like cowards. Grandfather would not rest until he drew blood.
"In here, Habibi, quiet now. Quickly, both of you." Mother finally let Danny's wrist go, darting across the hall to open the secret door. Danny moved to the side, signaling to Damian that he would keep watch. His brother nodded his head and quickly made his way over, ducking into the small, dark, and eerie corridor.
Mother crouched next to Damian, running her hands over his face like this would be the last time she would see it. knowing her, she probably expected it to be. No one went against their grandfather without severe consequences.
Glancing over his shoulder, Danny studied the shadows; there was a lookout patrol moving closer, which meant they only had a minute before they were discovered. Gritting his teeth, Danny darted across the hall, but instead of joining his mother and brother in the dark corridor, he pushed the wall back, leaving only the missing brick his mother had initially taken out.
"Danyal!" his mother hissed, her voice full of stern panic.
"Apologies Mother, but I can not let you do this," Danny replied, glancing to the side to see how much time he had left. Forty seconds. Crouching down, he picked up the brick and looked back at his mother. Damian stood next to her, his brows furrowed in confusion. Obviously, he hadn't figured out Danny's plan, otherwise he would have started shouting at him.
Mother stared at him for a second, her stern eyes wavering for the first time in Danny's life that he could remember. "Take care of him for me, keep him safe when I can not," Danny asked, grabbing the hood hanging around the back of his neck.
Mother's eyes teared up, but she straightened her back, her black hair framing her pretty face. "You've made up your mind then," she said, her voice low and steady. She rested her hand on Damian's shoulder, giving Danny a nod of understanding. "You are like your father, his love makes him weak."
"But," she continued, kneeling down in a bow, "You are of the demon's blood, it runs in your veins just like mine. Your actions will not be forgotten, nor will they be for nothing. You have my word, tifl alqamar. I love you, Habibi."
Danny nodded his head, unable to voice the thoughts clogging his throat. Instead, he took a silent breath, pulled his hood and mask into place, and shoved the final brick into place. Sealing off his precious family just in time to hear the guards around the corner.
Turning around, Danny silently stalked forward, drawing his shoulders back. The group rounded the corner and stopped, watching him in anticipation. Pitching his voice just slightly to the left and rolling his tongue, Danny spoke in a neutral voice, "take me to grandfather."
The two guards in front shared a look, but the ones in the back straightened up and moved aside. Marching forward, Danny passed the two hesitating guards and with a quick slice, brought them to their knees. He needed this to work, there was no room for mercy, no matter how much he hated it.
"I am the grandson of the demon head, you will respect me as you respect him. there will be no next time." Danny continued walking, pretending to not care if the two managed to follow or not. the remaining guards trailed behind him, silently observing him.
Danny was glad Mother had insisted on them matching today. otherwise, his plan would have failed long before he made it to his grandfather's door.
Stopping in front of the painted carved wood that was grandfather's door, Danny idly studied the carvings and statues around the grand hall. He remembered all the stories of how grandfather had collected them over his lifetime; grand stories of bloodshed and cunning manipulation.
His eyes settled on the one farthest away, with the least interesting story. It was considered ordinary, placed next to art worth billions. But it was Danny's favorite. It was a simple green crystal, carved like a crescent moon.
so simple, yet the most beautiful piece in Danny's opinion. He had always hoped he would die beneath the stars and his ever-faithful friend the moon. Maybe, instead of beneath them, he could die amongst them.
He would take it with him, he decided.
Turning sharply, Danny marched over to the small pedistal and plucked the crystal into his hand. Wrapping his fingers around it, he shoved it into a side pocket and returned back to his position.
They only had to wait for another minute before the door opened, grandfather's servants clearing a path for Danny to walk through.
"I see your mother did not drag you away," Grandfather mused, sitting in his large chair. His dark eyes studied Danny's form, taking in the katana on his back, and the hood and mask concealing his face. He was dressed like he would for a mission; no discernable features, no sign of who he was or wasn't. The perfect image of an assassin.
"at least you aren't a coward," Grandfather hummed, standing from his seat. He slowly pulled out his own katana, aiming it at Danny in a challenge. "no, just disappointing. but you are my blood and that earns you the right to die an honorable death. Draw your sword child, and fight like the warrior you are."
Danny bowed like he had been taught, then without another moment of hesitation, drew his sword and lunged.
He wished he could say it was a drawn-out battle of strength and minds, but it was not. for Danny was only ten years old, and his grandfather had hundreds of years of training and discipline behind him.
he gazed up at his grandfather as his knees hit the ground, his katana dropping to the ground as his hand reached up to the sword impaling his chest. Grandfather's eyes were filled with nothing but contempt, contempt for the useless boy he had just sentenced to death.
but his contempt did not bother Danny, no instead it drew a smile to his face. As much as Grandfather lorded his sharp mind over them, he had never been able to stop Danny from surprising him. So, with a burst of adrenaline, Danny allowed the small shuriken he hid in his sleeve to drop to his left hand and buried it deep into his grandfather's chest.
grandfather lunged back, pulling his katana with him, removing the only thing keeping Danny upright. Danny's body hit the ground, and with the last of his strength, he twisted his head so he could listen as his grandfather cried out in anger.
Grandfather's breath was heavy, the sound of him removing the dagger filling the silence. the shuriken was dropped to the ground with a sharp clatter, falling just a few feet from Danny's face.
"you," Grandfather huffed, "aren't such a disappointment after all. I'll grant you one last honor and keep you in the family tomb. Rest now, Damian, you have fought well."
Danny smiled, the cold feeling of blood loss crawling through his body, but not fast enough to block out the pressure of the moon crystal still in his pocket. He hoped Mother had gotten Damian out in time, and he hoped Damian could forgive him for what he had done.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#dc x dp#dpxdc#dcxdp#demon twin au#character death#mistaken identity#difficult choices#danny took damian's place#Talia wanted them to leave together while she distracted Ra's#she saw the stubbornness in danny's eyes and knew she didn't have the time to fight him#so now she's taking damian to bruce as quickly as she can#because it's only a matter of time before Ra's figures it out
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Hey, I love your Batfam work! Is there any chance you could do a whump/angst one of batsis being kidnapped by a villian(you can choose whoever you want) and she’s tortured for days with it being broadcasted to the Batfam while they try to track the footage. I feel kinda bad but can you do maybe some head trauma md severe burns? Maybe she has to be put in a medically included coma or smth because of the damage? Also is there any way you could include Barb and Duke along w/ the four robins? If not that’s totally cool! Sorry for the long request but I hope you have a great day!!
Anonymous Requested: batfam x batsib reader whos the youngest and newest robin and is just really goofy and doesn’t take anything seriously (ex: them blaring “who’s the (bat)man” on the comms during patrol [that songs stuck in my head i had to mention it]) and something happens, maybe their first close encounter to death or a run in with the joker and they just become a shell of who they were and stuff
Jokes On Me
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
Note: My god im so sorry this literally took me forever to write, thank you so much for being patient. I've been trying to write this all week but just couldn't sit down for long enough to finish it.
Warnings: Torture, blood, burns.
Word Count: 2.5k
⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
“Y/N, turn that shit off.”
Jason grumbled at you over the coms. You had been blasting some wretched song that you’d found on the internet over and over again and it was beginning to drive him mad.
“Nope.” You said, popping the ‘p’ loudly.
“Seriously.” Dick deadpanned. He had found it amusing at first, but it was now beginning to test his patience.
Agitated, you sighed and turned off the music. “Fine.”
“Thank you.” Jason expressed gratefully, turning his eyes back to the road he was patrolling. The night was cool and quiet besides the odd dog walker or couple returning from an evening out. It was one of those nights where patrol would end early and he could return home to take a warm bath and read a book before turning in for the night. Or so he thought.
You were rounding the corner, humming that tune that was still stuck in your head when his laughter ricocheted across the walls. You stiffened, eyes widening and hands fumbling for your weapon as your breath hitched. No amount of turning and craning your head allowed you to catch a glimpse of the dreaded figure, and you thought for a moment that perhaps it had just been a trick of your mind, or one of your brothers playing a cruel joke on you as payback for winding them up earlier. But then you heard it again, only this time to your left. You clutched your weapon tighter, eyes scanning the area with a new found sense of urgency.
“Wing…” You whispered into the coms so quietly that you were surprised he heard it.
“What now?” He somewhat snapped.
“We have a problem.”
Dick’s heart sank through the floor, his ears pricking up and his demeanour changing completely. “Where are you? What’s the matter? He was trying to let his panic show, but you hadn’t been patrolling as a vigilante for very long, and while you were well trained, you lacked the experience to deal with something big on your own. And from your tone of voice, he could tell that you were in some deep shit.
Jason worked his legs harder to push himself to reach the direction he had seen you head off in. Albeit it seemed even his hardest wasn’t enough.
When he stepped out of the darkness, the first thing you noticed were his eyes. Wide and bright, easily mistakable for a cat’s as they flashed in the darkness; wild. Rabid. As he emerged fully with that infamous twisted grin splayed out on his face, you felt like a cornered animal; a deer in headlights. You froze, unable to move despite how your heart screamed at you to run as it pounded, trying to break free from your ribcage.
“He’s here…” A mere whisper sliding over your tongue, so fragile that you weren’t even sure if you had actually said it aloud. Jason had heard it.
“Who?”
The Joker was circling you now, dragging out his strides in lazy circles. You should have fought but in that moment all of your training had drained out of you, along with the colour in your face. He smirked, leering down upon you as you tried to keep your trembling hand still. He pouted in mockery and at your silence, Jason repeated his question to you, but you never got the chance to respond.
“Oh…Just an old friend, Jay-bird.”
“Joker.” Urging his body to move faster, Jason grit his teeth.
Dick paled. “You leave them alone.” Dick spat. It tried to be a command, but the effect was lost somewhere in transmission.
The joker pursed his lips, tilting his head as he analysed. One of his hands had found his way to your jawline and he trailed it with a cold, gloved hand. You wanted to lean away, to run and find your brother but you knew that now he had you in his grasp there was no point in even trying. “And why would I do that? They’re right in front of me. I could just…snatch them up.”
“Don’t you dare!” Dick was frightened now. “Y/N, you stay there as long as you can, okay? You fight. We’re coming, you hear?”
The Joker frowned at you. “D’you hear that? Big brother birdy coming to the rescue. How sweet.”
His grip on you tightened. “Too bad you’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”
With one swift motion, he had thrown you harshly to the side, your head colliding with the wall with a sickening crack.
The two boys skidded to a halt just a second too late. You were already gone.
~
Your head hurt when you woke up. Your eyes squinted against the sterile light. They did no favours to your pounding headache. With a groan, you tried to twist, to roll over and soothe the crook in your neck but instead all that happened was the jinging of a metal chain. You craned your head and spotted the thick chain that had been wrapped around your wrist, confining you to the chair. Struggling, you tugged on them, trying to free yourself only for them to rattle and scrape against your skin.
“Yeah, that’s not going anywhere, birdy.” The joker chided.
You glared at him through narrowed eyes, trying to mask the thumping of your heart. The joker grinned wildly at your frightened complexion.
“It was such a shame that Grayson and Todd didn’t get to you in time, but it was far too easy to catch you, little bird: you completely froze.” He snapped his fingers to emphasise his point. “Didn’t batsy teach you better?”
“Don’t talk about them.” You snapped.
The joker raised his hands, palms facing toward you in surrender: taunting you as if you were the one with the power in the situation. “Touchy subject I see. Too bad.”
He gestured above you to an incessantly blinking light. “Smile for the camera, you’re live.”
~
Babs had been monitoring the street cameras when the computer beside her flickered to life. She had been searching for any sign of you ever since Dick and Jason came flying through the grandfather clock. Everyone was on edge.
The moment the screen flashed on, her eyes perked up to watch it, alarmed. She hadn’t turned it on. And there were very few people who could bypass the caves system. So when she saw a small frame curled up in a chair she knew immediately what was up.
“Duke…” she called to the dark haired boy who was trying to help decipher your whereabouts. “Go and get B.”
It did not take long at all for everyone to gather around in the cave. Duke was fast, and everyone dropped what they were doing to race down: even Alfred had taken his leave from his duties to see.
It was almost like some sick irony because as soon as they were all there, you began to scream. A guttering, perfect scream that cut that through them like a knife: unclean and pinging into them messily again and again.
The joker had taken a knife to your left thigh, his smile dripping with malice as he watched the camera, somehow knowing that at least one of them would be watching.
Your face was contorted in pain, twisting in agony as tears rolled flatly down your cheeks from fearful eyes. Damian felt sick, his stomach churning. Jason wanted to leave. But all of them were stuck watching. Barbra was tapping away, trying to locate the signal from the video to no avail.
“I hope you’re watching this Batsy…” He moved round to trail your face with the edge of the knife. You whimpered. “I’ve got your little bird here and I must say, you need to work on their training. They were far too easy to catch.”
Bruce felt his jaw tightening and Tim had to place a hand on his arm to remind him of his place.
“Anyway I thought we would play a little game… how long can little y/n survive for. I wonder if it’ll be any longer than our very own Jason Todd.”
Jason twitched.
“I’m testing you here, Bat. Tick Tock.”
The transmission cut to black.
~
It seemed hopeless. Even though they had been searching for days, they were no closer to finding you. And to make matters worse, they could see you. Not long after the first transition ended did it start up again. It had been lifestreaming since then, and although they had tried to block it from their minds, it was hard to ignore. Especially when your agonised screams ricocheted throughout the halls.
You looked like hell. Dark bags occluded under your eyes and there wasn’t an inch of your skin that wasn’t marred or stained with drying blood. The burns were worse. Damian could still hear the scream you let out when the joker first brought the hot poker to your skin. It had bubbled and blistered as the skin peeled away; you had thrashed against your restraints violently. Tim was certain that they were going to get infected if they didn’t reach you soon.
It felt as if they had searched everywhere. Dick and Jason had even asked around to see if anyone had heard anything, going as far to talk to the Jokers closest associates in Arkham, but even if they did know, nobody said anything. Duke had even gone as far to go back to the area to use his powers to see if he could trace anything, but nothing seemed out of place; they had hit a brick wall. That was…until a small light appeared on the monitor. Babs had managed to trace the signal to a small building on the outskirts of the city.
They were suited up in minutes, making a beeline for the building. They stormed it, recklessly taking down the Joker's goons before Batman chased wildly after the Joker, his face stony and his fists burning with anger. The other four boys chased down the winding corridors, flinging open the doors until they found one that was locked. Tim wasted no time, picking the lock with ease he peeled it open. His breath hitched when he saw you.
Your face was gaunt, hanging low by your chest. Your suit was torn and there was less of it on your body than there was ripped away. You looked so fragile as your chest heaved sporadically.
Jason nearly had to take a step back. This place reminded himself too much of his own encounter with the Joker not too long ago. But he pressed forward, fighting his instincts. He had to be strong. Instead of turning back, he kneeled in front of you, whispering your name. His hand came up to cup your face. You flinched away.
“It’s okay kid. It’s us.” He tried to reassure you, but you shrank back into yourself.
“We’re so, so sorry kiddo.” Dick tried placing a gentle hand on your arm before moving to work on the cuffs around your wrists. “We’re going to get you out.”
You said nothing, just continued to stare at the black space before you, and Dami wasn’t sure if you even knew they were in front of you. But when Jason moved away from you to help remove your restraints, your fingers latched onto him and you squeaked in protest.
He sighed shakily. “Don’t worry kid. I’m not going anywhere.”
Damian twisted from where he was guarding the door. “We need to leave.”
Dick nodded bluntly, finishing with the last of the locks. “I’m going to have to pick you up, okay sweetheart?”
You barely registered what he had said. Everything had grown numb, you nodded anyhow. Moving his arms underneath your legs and slipping one arm behind your back, Jason began to lift you. He nearly recoiled when you cried and whimpered with the way your wounds jostled as he sprinted out of the building to get you back to safety.
~
You were yet to say anything since you came home. You had been back a few days and your wounds were healing up nicely thanks to Alfred’s handywork, but the air was eerily silent around you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been communicating with them; you spoke to them with gestures or writing but no one was used to not hearing your voice. The stark contrast between your loud and bustling personality and you now was unsettling. No one wanted to push you too far but the manor was beginning to grow lonely.
It was one particularly rainy night when you finally spoke. You were curled up in a large armchair by the window in the library, sinking back into the plush leather as you watched the raindrops race down the glass. Jason had been watching you from afar, contemplating whether to talk to you or not when he walked over.
“What are you up to?” He asked you, making sure you knew that he was there before he spoke.
You gestured toward the window,then to the half opened book at your feet and shrugged.
“I see.” He nodded, taking a seat on the armchair opposite you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Jason wasn’t much of a talker. He knew more than anyone what you were going through, which was why it was nice just to know that he was willing to sit with you, just so you knew that he was there if you needed him. It made you feel safe. But you also couldn’t help but feel guilty, and frustrated with yourself for being in a place that made him feel as though he had to do that.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered.
Jason had to do a second take. His heart swelled. “What for?”
You sighed. “This. When I saw him…i-i froze. If I had run then this would never have happened.”
“Shh. This isn’t your fault.”
“But-”
“I promise, Kid. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
You nodded, looking away from him. But then you furrowed your brows and turned back to him. “How did you do it? How did you deal with this, Jay? Every time I close my eyes he’s there.”
“I guess I don’t, really. Or sometimes it feels like I don’t. I still get scared sometimes. I still see him in my dreams. But over time it gets easier. I had people around me to help me. And so do you, kid. We’re here. We’ll always be here.”
Jason shifted to brush away a rogue tear and you leaned into his touch and then wrapped your arms tightly around his middle.
“I’m here. Always. We’ll get through this together.”
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
BATFAM TAGS
@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
#batfam x reader#Batfamily x reader#dc x reader#dc#batfam#dick Grayson#dick Grayson x reader#hurt/comfort#nightwing#nightwing x reader#Jason Todd#Jason Todd x Reader#batfam x sibling reader#red hood#red hood x reader#batfam x injured reader#Tim Drake#Tim Drake x Reader#red Robin#red Robin x reader#Damian Wayne#Damian Wayne x Reader#robin#robin x reader#writing#angst#whump#duke Tomas#barbra gordon#Batman
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● Quick ride ●
Daryl Dixon X GN.Reader
Era: Whatever you want
Summary: You and Daryl were on your way to get new resources when you suddenly had a strange desire. And what better way to express it than to touch Daryl?
Warnings: +18 CONTENT, GN.Reader, no smut but touching, teasing, driving motorcycle, please don´t do that kids-
A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't been post something for a long time! I've been very busy and have barely found the time or motivation to write anything! QwQ
Words: 0,7k
Masterlist!
____________________________
PoV (Y/N):
Daryl and I drive through the empty streets of this broken ass world. Rick had asked us to get more food, medicine and other things. And since Daryl and I are responsible for this, we keep driving around. It doesn't really bother me though, I enjoy being alone with Daryl and he seems to like it too. I can't say what the relationship between Daryl and me is like though. We aren't together, but even a blind person can see that we are more than just friends.
There have been a few times where we've exchanged glances, sometimes I've caught him staring at me or the other way around, and sometimes we've touched hands, hips, or faces. Daryl is also looking for a new motorcycle with me so I can ride with him, but I prefer to sit behind him.
So while we're driving, I have my arms loosely wrapped around his waist. I lean my head against his strong back. "Ya comfortable?" I hear him ask. A quiet giggle escapes my throat, but I nod slightly. "Yep… you're warm." At my answer, he just snorts in amusement.
During the entire trip, however, several thoughts were going through my head. Many people in our group had already asked me to take a step, that Daryl definitely had a crush on me. But I never dared, I never saw it in his eyes that he saw something in me. I, on the other hand, think about Daryl 24/7. Both romantically and sexually. How many times have I gone to sleep and ended up touching myself. Just thinking about the past few nights made my insides tingle and my face warm.
Should I try it? I bite my lower lip hard as I slowly let my hand wander to his thigh. At first Daryl doesn't react, but when I slowly stroke his thigh, a quiet grumble escapes him. "Wha' are ya doin'?" He asks me quietly. But I don't react to his question, instead I let my hand slowly wander to his crotch. I apply a little pressure and this time Daryl growls loudly. "(Y/N)…~" God, it turns me on so much when he says my name or growls it. A tingling sensation runs down my back and I feel the hairs on my neck stand up. But since he doesn't smack my hand away or push it away, I just carry on. He can stop his motorcycle and push me away at any time, but he doesn't. Does he like it? Probably, the bulge that formed under my hand is the answer.
"Daryl~…" I whispered his name quietly in his ear, making the bulge in his pants twitch. I slowly start to massage his bulge and press my body against his back. He is now so hard that I can easily wrap my hand around his cock. I massage him like that for a while before I pull my hand back and let my hand slide into his pants. The archer inhales sharply as I wrap my fingers around his shaft and slowly massage it.
The motorcycle rocks a little and Daryl's grip on the handlebars gets tighter and tighter. Loud snorts and growls escape him and his cock twitches again and again. "Eyes on the road, Daryl~…" I purr into his ear. "Dumb… g-god~…" Before Daryl can protest, I squeeze his base a little tighter. I feel his cock pulsing and Daryl's breathing gets faster and faster. Only now do I notice that Daryl is driving slower, probably he doesn't want to risk an accident. Not that it bothers me, I'm just kind of scared of what will happen next if he stops. So I pull my hand out of his pants again. I adjust his pants before my hand is back on his hip. "Drive home~… there we can continue if you want~…" I whisper into his ear.
Daryl growls loudly for a moment before driving faster than ever before. Caught off guard, I press myself tighter against his body and squeeze my eyes shut. Either he wants to get back quickly or he wants to tease me as much as I just did with him.
#daryl dixon#daryl#daryl twd#twd daryl#the walking dead daryl#twd#twd daryl dixon#daryl dixon twd#the walking dead#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon smut
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It is time- (Or: It Has Begin XD)
Greetings, my dear readers, it has been quite some time. First and foremost I would like to assure you that yes, I'm alive, and no, I have not abandoned my writing. But, I HAVE been distracted by somehing in the last few months, and I think its time to reveal it. I made a game! And not just a game, a Shadowgast game. I would like to present to you:
Beacon Run.
Ko-Fi This game begun its existance as a homework project for a game dev course I took about a year ago. I was supposed to implement a simple chase and pickup game and I thought, "Why use some random sprites when all I can imagine is small chibi Caleb chasing small chibi Essek around while Essek is trying to nom beacons?"
This idea lit a fire in my brain, and I just had to implement it but I had a very short time for the assignment. Iended up implementing something very simple, but I just couldn't let it go afterwards and vowed I was going to finish that small game and get it out for the fandom to play.
It has since been rewriteen, refactored and recoded several times, until I had something workable to show others. This is the place to mention the major contribution the people fo AIFL had on this little game. As I was maing this game, I shared its early stages with the server, and people have been kind in thier enthusasm, gave me ideas and provided invaluable criticism and feedback. They kept me motivated and kept me going through the lows of frustration one gets when coding. I got @bumble-b-goode 's permission to use their designs for the Weezards and drew my own sprites using that as inspiration. I ended up creating most of the assets for this game. Drawing the art assets took quite some time and I've learned a lot in the process.
Beacon Run not big or complicated as a game. In essence, is a tribute and a love letter to the Critical Role community and the CR crew. To the people who brought to life the Mighty Nein and have shared, and continue to share their stories with us on a weekly basis throughout the years. For Liam and Matt, who have weaved the tale of two broken wizards mending each other into better people, and keep their children of ink and paper alive for us to enjoy. The game: You as a player, are randomly assigned a little wizard to play for each match, so you can play as Essek or Caleb. The board dimensions and obstacles and even the flooring art are randomized for each match so each match is different. Your goal: to collect as many Beacons as you can during the allotted time, and end up with more Beacons than your rival which is the other wizard played by the computer. You gain projectiles over time, which are fake Beacons you can throw at the other wizard. If hit, the rival wizard is stunned for a short time, and drops several of his picked up Beacons for you to gather. However, beware! The rival wizard can also shoot you and stun you for a short while, and make you drop beacons as well. (You might notice that Essek gets stunned by sour lemon Beacons, while Caleb gets stunned by hand-knitted wool Beacons XD) In addition, when the rival is hit, he may drop a Magic Abeyance Bead which contains a Chronurgy spell. if you pick it up, it will provide a short time bonus for the match. In short, the game is a small, cozy game, made out of love for the wizards and the fandom, and I hope you'll enjoy it! I it still in the late stages of testing and development, as the feedback players provide is invaluable and lets me find bugs, add ideas and content suggested and tweak the mechanics to make it more enjoyable. So I would very much appreciate feedback, suggestions, con-crit etc. I would be happy to head what you like about it, what you think needs tweaking, ideas of content to add.... you name it! (Note that currently, the game does not work on mobile. I am planing to revamp the input system and add touch suport for mobile in the near future) Also it is worth mentioning that as I fix bugs, add content and tweak things, I upload new versions of the game so its worth following the Devlog and updates. The game is avaliable for play in the embedded player on the page, and also available for download to play offline (Though you might need to redownload it with every new version as I don't have an auto updater for it.)
In addition, if you like my work, feel like enabling me to make more of these or just want to buy me a coffee, It is always very much appreciated as it sure helps me stay afloat! Tip Jar
So, I hope you forgive me for my lack of writing for the last few months. I really wanted to get this out. I am trying to keep writing in my spare time, but the muses haven't been with me lately. I hope that now that this is out I can finally get my mind off it XD Stay tuned!
#shadowgast#caleb widogast#essek thelyss#critical role#critical role fanart#game making#the mighty nein#Beacon Run
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Tell me why I just spent an hour of my night imagining what would happen if, during the trial, it was revealed in front of all the Goetias that Blitz caused the fire, and Blitz was present, and he got really really triggered so he ran outside and Stolas followed him and found him cowering in a corner.
And then Stolas tried to touch Blitz, but Blitz hissed and hid his face, and so Stolas asked, “Darling, can I hold you? Let me hold you...” and very carefully rested his hands on Blitz before pulling him very close, at which point Blitz buried his face in Stolas' chest feathers because he couldn't bear the thought of Stolas seeing him break down like this, but he also agonizingly craved the the physical comfort.
And so Blitz just cried, and cried, and cried, feeling like he was about to die and he couldn't breathe past this and he was falling apart. And Stolas held him through it, not knowing what to do, just rocking him slowly and holding him tightly while Blitz sobbed and gasped for air, whispering over and over again, “I'm right here, I won't let go, I've got you, I'm not going anywhere.”
And eventually—after many minutes—Blitz's sobs died down, but he was still crying, just silently now, heavy tears rolling down his cheeks as he breathed Stolas in and tried to regain some semblance of control over his body. Still feeling terrified, still so, so scared that Stolas would let go of him and he would break.
Stolas didn't let go, though, and just kissed the top of his head over and over again, running his fingers up and down Blitz's back, trying desperately to comfort him. And eventually, Stolas said, “I didn't know... I had no idea...” not knowing how to finish those sentences. And, after hiccuping and fighting to catch his breath, Blitz mumbled “I—I—” but he couldn't form a single word without breaking down. So Stolas said, “It's okay, dearest. You don't have to talk about it,” but Blitz replied, “I-I want to, but I—I can't.”
And then Stolas said, “You could write it down... Would that help?” but Blitz just shook his head against his chest feathers, arguing that, “I would just m-misspell everything. I—give me a moment.” So Stolas did, holding him tight, not letting go, never letting go, and Blitz, after several seconds of trying to speak and failing, finally managed a muffled, “I was...” And then, after a few more moments, “I-I was in love with him.”
And Stolas didn't say anything—just let that information sink in heavily in his heart, that Blitz had been in love before, with someone else—and waited for Blitz to continue. “W-With Fizz. I was—I wanted to—t-to tell him. On his birthday. But I couldn't. I—” And Blitz sobbed again. “I chickened out, and pushed the guy carrying the cake, and the candles—they—”
And Stolas thought... Oh. The fire. That's how it started. His arms tightening around Blitz again, pulling him close as Blitz went on, “And Fizz was right by the fireworks when they went off and he—a-and—”
“Oh. Oh, Blitz,” Stolas rasped out, tears welling in his eyes as he took in the horror of what Blitz was describing, of causing such a horrible accident to happen. And Blitz hiccuped against his chest, his fingers digging into Stolas' sides as he held on to him with wild desperation, and said, “A-And my—my mom—” but couldn't continue, breaking down into sobs again as Stolas rocked him back and forth, back and forth, cheek pressed against Blitz's head, crying silently at the horror of what Blitz had been through. Whispering, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, darling.”
And Blitz clung to Stolas, feeling like he might die if Stolas let go now, feeling like even this much touch wasn't enough, like he needed to crawl inside Stolas' chest, needed to be held so fully and overwhelmingly in order to not feel like he would disintegrate at any second. But, at the same time, he felt completely unworthy of this; of Stolas. “I'm a monster,” he sobbed. And again, “I'm a monster.” And Stolas pulled him desperately closer, saying, “You are not a monster, Blitz. It was an accident. It was a tragedy, it was horrifying, but it wasn't your fault,” needing Blitz to believe it.
But Blitz couldn't, shaking his head, crying, hating himself. Hating the all-encompassing aching in his chest that made him feel like he might die from it.
“It wasn't your fault,” Stolas repeated. “I'm so sorry, Blitz. I'm so sorry this happened. I'm sorry I found out like this.” Cradling him back and forth, back and forth. “I'm sorry. And I'm not going anywhere. I'm here.”
And it was true, Blitz realized. Stolas still hadn't let go of him. His body started to believe it. He still wasn't ready to let go, though. But that was okay with Stolas, who wasn't going anywhere. No matter how long it took, he would stay with Blitz, and hold him through it.
... Aaaaand I had no idea how this mental scene played out after that so um. Bye!
#helluva boss#stolitz#trauma tw#ptsd tw#Trauma flashback tw#Be warned#stolas x blitz#blitz x stolas#I do know why I spent an hour thinking about it btw it's because I was projecting sjdjksfiusdj
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pedri and reader arguing over him forgetting their anniversary?
forgetfulness ✩ pedri gonzález
summary: pedri forgot your birthday.
To wake up and watch your boyfriend go into another room and get ready without looking you in the eye hurts. You really don't understand how Pedri can forget this day, your day. You understand that he has a lot to remember, but it hurts that he doesn't remember a day that is so important to you.
"Good morning." You say when you see him in the kitchen, hoping that he would turn around and remember your day.
He walks up to you and leaves a kiss on your head. "Good morning, sleepy head. How are you?" You can only swallow dryly and try to hide your disappointment as much as possible.
"Fine. And you?" You briefly watched as your boyfriend approached the door to leave and go straight to training.
"I'm fine. I'll see you later, okay?" He leaves a kiss on your mouth and a light caress in your hair before leaving completely out of the house.
You take a deep breath and can't control yourself, tears streaming down your face. How could he do this to you? He didn't have to write you a text or send you a bunch of gifts, you just wanted him to at least make a point of remembering your birthday. Maybe at least a "Happy Birthday" would be better than silence.
Ignoring the tightness in your chest, you sit down on the couch to read all the affectionate messages your family and friends have left. Trying not to remember that the person who simply lives with you has completely forgotten.
"Hey, how's she doing?" Pedri turns to face Gavi, he doesn't fail to arch an eyebrow.
"What do you mean, she who?"
"Y/N? What do you mean she who?"
Gavi looks at Pedri with a "Are you crazy?" expression and Pedri is even more confused that he is so randomly asking about you. "She's fine, same as always. Why are you asking me that out of the blue?"
Pedri lets out a weak laugh and Gavi can't help but frown. "I just thought she'd be mad that you had to come to practice on her birthday. Didn't you get a break? I swear Xavi was cool with it, but…"
Pedri interrupts Gavi on the spot and picks up his cell phone to check today's date, Holy shit….
"Holy shit, Gavi. What have I done?" he sits up and runs his hand through his hair nervously. Pedri can't hold back a nervous sigh and he remembers the way you looked different this morning, the way your eyes looked disappointed with every word he said.
"Don't tell me you forgot…" Gavi runs his hand across his forehead and doesn't fail to slap Pedri on the head. "Fuck you, you stupid. Go home and fix it, you dumb fuck."
After Gavi said this, Pedri couldn't contain himself and just picked up his cell phone and car keys. The despair and anxiety hit him when he saw that at was going to be a 40 minute ride judging by the awful traffic he was caught in while coming from the training center.
He only hoped that you could forgive him for that.
You hear the door slam in a rush and your expression already changes. Gavi texted you and it hurts even more to know that he only remembered because someone told him to. You turn toward the door as Pedri opens it and only cross your arms when you see his figure with an upset expression on his face.
"Baby, I…forgive me." He tries to move closer to you, but you push him away.
"Now you remember? Nice to know how important I am to you." You let out a wry smile and shake your head as if you couldn't believe Pedri's attitude.
He shrugs his shoulders and turns serious. "Please try to understand me. I have a lot on my mind."
"I also have several things to do and solve, Pedro. But, I have never forgotten a birthday of yours."
Pedri sits on the edge of the bed, fixing an invisible point with a stare that sends chills to your bones. "You're picking this argument for nothing. Because I forgot for a few hours you're going to undo everything I've done for you all year? The world won't stop because it's your birthday." When he says this, it's as if a knife had been plunged into his heart. Doesn't he understand that it isn't only about today? He has been getting more and more distant and it seems that everything about you is not so important to be remembered by him. "People go on working as usual, their problems don't end, their available times are the same. So it is natural that someone ends up forgetting your birthday. So if I have not remembered your day for a few hours, it does not necessarily mean that I have no consideration for you, that I am not a good boyfriend or anything like that."
You paused in the middle of the room, with teary eyes. "The thing is not just today, Pedro. You don't make a point of having me around anymore, and it seems like every day more and more you make it clear that things about me don't matter to you." Your eyes watering and the way your hand rests on your chest to try to push away this pain that only increases, he can only feel bad for making you feel this way. He wants to touch you and pull you into his embrace. "Whoever loves you automatically provides you with things that don't need to be begged. And I think that if you didn't mind my absence, maybe it's because my presence was never important to you and that scares me."
"I love you, I'm sorry if it made it seem like I don't care about your presence." He says while looking deep into your eyes, he says all this with his eyes shining and murmuring, as if it were your little secret.
He opened and closed his eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling from his eyes. He hates arguing with you and this feeling that you're about to run between his fingers, this shit hurts. He snuggles deeper into the bed and crosses his arms. You sighed, running a hand on your face.
The silence stretched on and on, you were afraid to say something and end up hurting both of you. "I…I think I'll sleep in the other room tonight." You say as you stare at the wall in front of you, and when you saw that he was going to say something, you interrupted him. "Just for today, just for today…I think we both need this space. To think."
He shakes his head in agreement, but more than anything, he just wanted to pull you into his arms and ask you to forgive him for all the times he made you feel this way. "Sleep here, I'll go to another room." He murmurs, already getting up, not even giving you time to say.
The night came and neither of you could sleep, you had never had a fight like this before, much less slept apart after one. You started a war without realizing it, without communicating, and that is the biggest mistake of all. You just wanted this night to pass and Pedri was controlling himself not to get up and hug you until that pain in his chest was gone, nothing hurts more than knowing that he hurts you.
As morning came, you could only sleep for a few hours and Pedri couldn't rest at all. He just wanted the morning to come soon so that you could talk and get this out of his chest, he couldn't accept losing you.
When you got up, Pedri was already in the kitchen preparing something for you to eat. You let a smile escape when you saw the way he was committed to cooking for you. "Good morning."
He turned to you and tried to relax his posture when he saw that you were more relaxed after yesterday's discussion. God, he has never seen you as beautiful as you are now. "Good morning, my love. Hey." He runs his hands through his sweatpants and approaches you a little fearfully, you lower your guards and let him hug you.
He squeezes you even tighter in his arms and leaves several kisses on your head, you can only sink further into his arms and nuzzle the tip of your nose against his neck. "Without your hug that comforts, without your kisses that fill me with so much love, without your company. I can no longer imagine a future where you are not, because you are always there!"
He says all this while his hands are running down your back in a caress. You listen to everything intently and try to take a deep breath as a weight comes off your shoulders. "I know I've been a jerk, I'm sorry about that. But under no circumstances should you think that I don't care enough about you." He pulls you away from his embrace so that you could look into each other's eyes while this conversation takes place. "Love is not confusion, love is staying together, even confused. It's working it out together. It's not walking away. I've reflected on all my actions this morning and I'm just sorry, I'm sorry for all the times I made you feel like it wasn't reciprocated."
You caress his face and let a smile escape. "It's okay."
"It's not okay, but now it will be. Love is about giving, believing, and sharing. Love is all of that and I want to be with you. I want to share my needs and your needs because making you happy is my goal." He leaves three kisses on your mouth and rests his forehead against yours. "Now let's go back to yesterday and make you have an extremely special day, today is all about you and me."
You can't hide your excitement and hug Pedri again. He has never broken a promise and you faithfully believe that he will review the actions that have hurt you. He is the person you trust most in the whole world.
#football imagine#football one shot#football fanfic#football x reader#pedri x reader#pedri x you#pedri imagine#pedri one shot#pedri#pedri fluff#pedri gonzalez
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bodyguard! calcharo pt. 2
Content: Non-proof reader; consensual, overstimulation, foreplay, brat taming, face sitting, aftercare; female reader (i'm sorry cause I still miss at writing any other reader ;;;).
Note: I've been busy with exams but I'll try to upload some more!!
It had been a few months since that incident, and despite you had been acting like a little cat around him during the first months, it took him just a few pretty words and some presents for you to go back to your old ways. You had stopped with the dumb pranks, instead, you decided to do just a few provocations, always touching him under the table even when there was people around you, always raising your skirt just enough for him to catch a slight glimpse of your underwear, his face straight all these times. But you noticed it, his eyebrows twitching a bit, he was clenching his teeth while you kept rubbing your hand against his groin, eyes fixed on your naughty expression, looking as if you had won anything from it.
So he made the decision, not react until you got tired, after all, he could perfectly handle some sloppy attempt of a girl without much experience.
Or so be thought, cause as time went, your "pranks" were getting out of hand, rubbing yourself against him with the excuse of the streets being crowded, playing with his nerves by moving too fast without thinking, always too close to expose your underwear to a random person. But his last straw was when you decided to go to the city without anything under your clothes. He hadn't notice until you decided to play your dumb pranks, lifting your flimsy dress just enough for him to see it. It took him less than a few seconds to lift you, his cloak covering your whole body while he rushed back to your hotel. As soon as both of you arrived to the bedroom, the door closed shut, Calcharo's hands letting you sit on the bed.
"Did you have fun? Riling me up in public with your dumb face, looking all pretty as you walked around without some damn underwear. Bet you did all of this for me to get mad and punish you, uh? I guess brats never learn unless you get it into their head right." As soon as he said that, he sat on the bed, putting you on his lap and starting to caress your cheek, his gloved hand feeling a bit too cold to the touch. You tried to squirm away, once again doing everything in your power to push him just a bit more. Of course, your little trick didn't go unnoticed, as his hand quickly gave you a strike, making your skin a bit red and sending shivers through your whole body and making your body jerk a bit.
"Oh, you definitely felt that, uh?" His mocking tone made you feel as if your face was boiling.
"You talk so high as if you were anything more than my dog..." ...Of course you couldn't just keep it to yourself. The vein on Calcharo's neck became a bit remarked, his face showing a crooked smile, if you really wanted him to be mean with you, you had just gotten what you wanted. He took one of his gloves with his mouth, leaving it at his side. He sucked on two of his fingers for a few seconds, making sure they were wet before starting to move them towards your folds, the warm feeling almost making you whine. Despite that, you refused to give up, biting your lip and covering your mouth with your hands, trying to keep as quiet as possible despite feeling one of his fingers slipping in and out of you, leaving just the tip of his finger before taking it out, repeating this process while his other hand kept playing with your nipples, sometimes pinching them, other times simply letting the rough leather of his gloves rub against them.
He kept doing this until you were about to scream at him, your patience running low as your brain started to get foggy, being only able to think about the bulge that you had been feeling under you for several minutes. "You talk so high but you can't even keep it under your control." Once again, you and your big mouth. This time Calcharo didn't answer anything, simply changing your position, letting you on top of his face, his arms hugging your legs so you couldn't run anyway as his tongue started to lick at your leaking cunt. His nose made friction with your sensitive clit, almost making you cry the moment he started to lick at it while his strong arms kept you at your place. No matter how much you tried to squirm or how hard you tried to move your arms as to get him to move a bit away he didn't even flinch a bit, not even when you tried to stop him by attempting to close your thighs against his face.
Needless to say he didn't stop even when your tears were falling down your cheeks, letting you cum for the seventh time, soaking his face with your fluids, your legs tembling as you felt as if your sorry cunt had been overstimulated for over one hour. Despite that, Calcharo's grip didn't lose a bit, your mouth was unable to close, too busy pleading him and moaning, pleading him to let you go, that you were so so sorry for saying such a dumb thing. Suddenly, his arms lifted you a bit, just enough for him to show his snarky smirk under your body.
"I bet this will keep you at your place for some time, right brat?" You were only able to nod, your brain being far too overstimulated to even form a single thought that didn't include some kind of plea. His rough hands got you down, letting you lay on top of him as your legs kept tembling. He kissed your pretty lips, letting them all glossy because of his saliva. Calcharo hugged your smaller frame, caressing your soft hair as he smiled, looking at your gorgeous face all messed up by him.
#fanfiction#smut#x reader#wuthering waves#calcharo#calcharo wuthering waves#calcharo x reader#wuthering waves headcanon#wuthering waves calcharo#wuwa x reader#wuwa calcharo
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flowers and tea
Naomi McPherson x fem!florist!reader
🌼Warnings - 2 curse words? and english is not my first language
🌼Genre - fluff (i guess)
🌼Word count - 3.4k (WHAT?!)
🌼Notes - OH MY GOD, you don't know how much time I've spent writing this like 3k words???? that's just crazy. also, i wrote this in several classes at school, sorry arturo, montse and chus 🙏🏼 and this is dedicated to carolina who tried to peek into the story and i didn't let her, luv ya bubs
Having her own shop was a dream and a nightmare at the same time for Y/n L/n. Paying the bills, keeping the flowers beautiful the whole day through, being all day on her feet or dealing with rude costumers were all things Y/n wished she could get rid of. But at the same time, she truly loved her job. Being able to surround herself with flowers was a dream come true, and seeing a smile on the face of a happy customer really made her day. Plus, the shop was in a strategic place in Los Angeles where sometimes famous people came through, and she even had a few celebrities who were usual shoppers. Lucy Dacus stopped from time to time to buy flowers in order to dry them, and considered Y/n a friend. Pedro Pascal always bought flowers for his sister from Y/n, and Ashton Irwin loved to stop by for a chat about how to keep his plants as beautiful as Y/n’s. So, Y/n shouldn’t fall easily for a star, right?
It was a slow day, so Y/n busied herself rearranging flowers on the back of the shop. She was calmly arranging a bouquet of lilies when she heard the bell on top of the door and a pair of shoes rushing in. Curious about who would come bursting in like that, she lowered the volume of the Glenn Miller vinyl that was playing on the background and stepped into the front of the shop while cleaning her hands on her apron. She then saw a person looking like they had run for 10 kilometres, with curls sticking to their red face, and trying to catch some air.
“Hi.” Y/n said calmly “Can I help you with something?” she asked. “Yeah, I think you would be unbelievably helpful right now” they said, making Y/n chuckle amused. “Tell me, what can I do for you?” she said, taking her notebook out, just in case she needed to write something down. The person standing on the other side of the counter leaned a bit on it and tried to arrange the curls around their head. “It’s my mum’s birthday, and I’ve been so busy that I completely forgot about buying her something, and I love her very much I can’t just not buy her anything, and I’m meeting her tonight, I can’t show up empty handed” they said without stopping, catching a quick deep breath “. So Lucy told me to come here and say to you that she sent me and that you could arrange something with flowers that have meaning for, like… now… could you?” they finished, looking expectantly at Y/n. The girl just blinked a few times, taking all the information in. “Which Lucy sent you?” she asked, testing the person’s connection to her, not truly trusting them yet, even though they looked like a decent person to her. “Ummm… Lucy Dacus?” they said, with caution. Y/n visibly lighted up, smiling at the thought of the black haired girl recommending her to her friends. “Well, you should’ve started with that.” She said, turning around and starting to walk to the back of the shop, turning around again to gesture to the still nameless person to follow her back.
If the front of the shop was a dream, full of aromatic plants and antique furniture, the back of it was another level of etherealism. Besides another huge amount of plants and flowers, one wall was a window wall, made out of old looking stained glass of art déco style. There was a table with two chairs were Y/n would have tea, sometimes with someone else, and behind the table there was a bookshelf with heaps of books about flowers and their care and meanings. In the middle of the room there was a worktable with a few half-arranged bouquets of lilies of different colours. Y/n moved with ease around the space, and she turned to face the stranger once she got to the workbench, only to find said stranger with their mouth half opened in awe.
“Are you okay?” Y/n asked, slightly amused with the reaction she was witnessing. The stranger blinked a few times as if to come out of some sort of trance, and responded after centering themselves in the conversation again “Yeah, yeah, fine” they said, making Y/n’s smile a bit brighter. “I’m Naomi, by the way” the stranger said, finally giving a name to the curious person. “Oh, yeas, from Muna, right?” Y/n said, eliciting a nod from Naomi. “Lucy has told me so much about all of you, I don’t know how I couldn’t recognize you the moment you walked in” she said, making Naomi smile a bit. “She really talks about me to you?” Naomi asked, feeling a wave of affection for their friend. “Yeah, she talks about all of you all the time” Y/n said, giggling a bit “. I almost feel like I know you personally sometimes, although meeting you in person makes me realize she forgot to mention some things” she said, standing behind the working table and moving the flowers around to make space for others. “Like what?” Naomi asked, furrowing their brows, thinking that maybe they had given a terrible first impression, when they had been mesmerized with Y/n since they had seen her. The girl standing opposite to them smiled at them coyly before saying nonchalantly “For starters, she forgot to mention you are even more handsome on real life than on pictures.” The comment made the curly haired blush, not expecting the sweet looking florist to be so flirty and straightforward.
Naomi’s reaction made Y/n giggle, feeling like she couldn’t stop smiling around them. She didn’t know where the confidence to be so bold had come from, either. She then decided to stop messing around and get to work. “So” she said, clearing her throat before continuing ´´, what did you want for your mum?” Naomi shook their head for a second, pulling themselves together about the flirty comment from before, and answered the question “I truly don’t know, I just want to tell her I love her, and flowers seemed like a good option” they said, being truly bad at flowers. “So you want to send a message with these flowers” Y/n said, looking at Naomi attentively. “Yeah, basically” they answered, doubting a bit about the rightness of their answer. “Well, if you want I can arrange a bouquet with flowers that mean that you love her” Y/n smiled, always loving to do bouquets with deep meanings. “Do you mean flowers mean something specific?” Naomi asked, making Y/n clutch her pearls in feigned offense. “Of course they do! That’s my job you’re talking about!” she said, making Naomi laugh. Y/n smiled and walked over to the bookshelf, picking up and old-looking book, with a pink cover and golden details.
Y/n sat down on one of the chairs of the table, signalling Naomi to sit in the other one. The florist browsed through the book, in which Naomi could only see beautiful illustrations and paragraphs of what they could guess was information about the flowers in the other page. When Y/n finally had all the information she needed, she closed the book and looked up, only to find the curly haired brunet already looking at her. This discovery made the girl blush and Naomi look away immediately, embarrassed about being caught. Y/n decided not to panic, clearing her throat before speaking “I think I’ve found the ideal flowers” she said “. If you follow me, I can show them to you” she continued, while standing up, already blushing a bit again. Where had all the previous confidence gone? The person now standing in front of her was truly messing with her emotions, and they had only met for roughly 25 minutes, even less.
Y/n waltzed around the room picking up flowers, oblivious to the mesmerized client who was following her. She picked up the flowers and explained their meanings to Naomi “White carnations mean purity, love and beauty; the azaleas are a symbol of womanhood in China, and they are a symbol of love; daisies symbolize purity and innocence; and camellias represent gratitude and longevity” Although Naomi seemed like they were just hypnotized about the girl’s beauty, her words were also enthralling to them. After coming back with the flowers to the worktable, Y/n asked Naomi about their opinion, at which they could only stutter an OK, making the girl working in the bouquet blush and giggle.
When she finished the bouquet, the mixture of carnations, daisies, azaleas and camellias looked beautiful. Y/n’s talent was something that had Naomi’s mouth open in amazement. Their head couldn’t wrap around the fact that two hands and a few flowers had given such result, the florist’s talent oozing from every aspect of the bouquet. Besides from the big possibility of their mum loving the bouquet, Naomi had also fallen in love with the care and talent Y/n had shown making it. Maybe they had also fallen for the hands responsible of such beauty, and the person who controlled them with so much grace.
Y/n finished wrapping the bouquet, not really wanting Naomi to leave her shop. But she knew she couldn’t stop a big ass pop star that surely wasn’t going to fall for her. “I think this is finished” she said, nerves flowing through her whole body. “We can go to the front now” she continued, now moving to the front of the shop, bouquet in hand. While Naomi paid with her card, Y/n finished preparing the gift. When she turned around to get the business card she always gave out to first time clients, she hesitated when deciding what complimentary flower to give to Naomi. She finally chose a lavender coloured rose. She nervously put the flower and the card in a bag with the flowers. She didn’t know why she was so shaken, Naomi probably didn’t share her feelings; for fuck’s sake, they had known each other for something more than an hour. When Y/n gave the bag to Naomi their fingers brushed ever so slightly, which resulted in different reactions; Y/n let out a sigh, while Naomi froze immediately. When the florist realized they had spent more time than necessary in that position, she put her hand back as Naomi’s suddenly burned. They just blinked a few times, blushed, turned back and marched through the door mustering a rushed thanks and a farewell. Y/n sighed when Naomi was finally out, leaning on the counter and placing her head between her hands. What a naïve thought, that someone like Naomi McPherson could ever like someone like her. Now, she just had to move on, and try to forget about them.
Lucy Dacus had decided to have a quiet night. She had a nice dinner, placed a few candles and played some soft background music. She then picked up her current read, and with a cup of a delicious tea that Y/n had suggested her, she got ready to relax, plunging down on the armchair she loved the most. That relaxing, though, didn’t last long, as she heard the doorbell ring. She groaned, detangling herself and getting up to open the door. If it was her annoying neighbour again, she was ready to throw hands. However, when she opened the door, there was no nosy neighbour on the other side; instead, Naomi was there, nervously biting her nails, and looking a bit miserable. “Naomi? What are you doing here? Are you okay?” Lucy asked, worried about her friend’s state. “Where the fuck did you send me?” they just said, spreading their arms exasperated. “What?” Lucy just said, sincerely confused. Seeing as the only answer from Naomi was a pair of widened eyes, which lead to Lucy sighing and moving from the door, signalling Naomi to come in. Goodbye, quiet night.
After a cup of tea, Naomi had calmed down, and they had told Lucy about those afternoon events. “And when I finished dinner with my mum I needed to vent, and as you were the one who told me to go to her, I just…” they finished, trailing down at the end. Lucy nodded in understanding, not needing to hear more from her friend before concluding “So basically, you fell head over heels for her and you think she doesn’t correspond your feelings”. Naomi just mustered a “yeah” while dropping their head in defeat. Lucy nodded again, leaning back on the armchair she was sitting in. “Well, we can kind of know how she feels about you” she said, smiling softly, making Naomi shoot their head up, waiting for a solution for their problems. “Did you keep the flower she gave you with her card?” Lucy said, already knowing the answer. Naomi slowly reached for a pocket in their jacket, taking out a lavender rose. Lucy got up and moved towards a shelf next to a window, where she saw rain starting to pour. She took a book from the shelf, under the curious stare of her friend. The book was a Victorian guide to flower meanings, which Lucy had somehow managed to thrift. She looked through the book sat on the armchair again. She could feel Naomi biting their nails and looking nervously at her. Finally, she found it. “It says here that lavender roses mean…” Lucy stopped, looking kindly at the meaning “It’s a flower that represents enchantment love at first sight” she said, looking again at Naomi, whose mouth was now partly opened in shock and eyes completely opened. They quickly recomposed and started shaking their head in denial. “Come on, Dacus, stop playing” they said, not believing what Lucy was saying. “I’m not” Lucy replied, showing the book to them. Naomi was feeling a weird mix of emotions, between shock, denial and complete confusion, with a tint of utter affection. Was this some kind of sick and twisted joke?
Naomi got up and started pacing Lucy’s living room, not sure about what that really meant. They knew they had liked Y/n, call it love at first sight if you feel like it, but something had bloomed in that flower shop, and not only the plants. Lucy closed the book and laid back, deciding to leave Naomi to walk around and calm down. They finally did, sitting across Lucy again. Taking a deep breath, the curly haired talked for the first time in the last few minutes, breaking the silence that had settled itself on the room, mixed with the sound of drops of the still pouring rain. “What do you think I should do?” they asked Lucy for advice, with a hint of somewhat fear on their voice. “I can’t decide anything for you” Lucy said, shaking their head. “I’m not asking for instructions, Luce, I want your opinion” Naomi said, in a soft tone. Lucy sighed and leaned towards her friend “Do you like Y/n?” she asked, not really expecting a forward answer. “Yeah, I think I do” Naomi said with a sincere voice, astounding Lucy, who blinked and talked again. “Do you want to tell her that?” “I think I do” they replied again. Lucy questioned Naomi for a third time “I have her address. Do you want me to give it to you?” she said, and spoke again before Naomi could say anything “And don’t say that you think you do” she half-threatened. Her friend closed their mouth, opening it not much of a second later “I truly want her address” Lucy nodded, getting up to write it on a blue piece of paper. When she finished, she folded it and gave it to Naomi, who was standing up, nervously playing with their fingers. The moment they had the paper, they gave a heartfelt hug to Lucy, and then sprinted to the door. Lucy saw them get into their car and smiled softly. She didn’t mind a night not so quiet if it was for the sake of romance.
Y/n was laying on her couch, one feet dangling off it. She laid there, looking at pictures of Naomi on Pinterest, although if someone asked, she was reading the Rilke book that was now laying on the coffee table next to her. She sighed, turning her phone off and keeping to staring to the ceiling. How was she so stupid that she had been so enchanted by someone who had been in her store for an hour. She stood up and picked up the book, deciding it was enough pining for someone she probably would never see again. She read a few pages, but didn’t last long before putting the book in her lap and looking out the window. She looked at the pouring rain, which she loved. She knew she should hate the rain, but she loved the romanticism of it all, even though she knew she would never have her ever so idyllic love confession in the rain.
Just as she was lost on her thoughts, Y/n heard the doorbell ring. She wondered who the hell would be knocking at that time in the night, even more with that terrible weather, which truly didn’t invite to going out. She kept wondering who it could be as she walked to the door, expecting to see a neighbour or someone trying to sell her some stupid product. However, the only person she found waiting outside of her house was a drenched Naomi. Y/n’s eyes opened wide as she took the sigh in, with her breath getting caught in her throat.
Y/n talked, although the lump she felt on her throat made it a bit difficult. “What are you doing here?” she said, not being able to move herself from her spot on the door entrance. “I needed to see you” they said, with a tint of hopelessness in their voice. Y/n felt like flowers were blooming in her stomach, with the leaves and petals tickling her stomach. “How did you know where I lived?” Y/n asked again, nerves now flowing through her system. Naomi looked a bit guilty before answering “Lucy gave it to me, I asked her for it”. Y/n made a mental note of scolding her later, but asked the last question she couldn’t stop pondering about. “And why did you want to see me, Naomi?” she said, not sure if she wanted to hear the response. Naomi breathed deeply before replying. “I like you” they said, making Y/n’ world turn upside down in a matter of microseconds. She tried to calm down her breath, that was now working, but too fast for anyone’s liking.
However, Naomi misinterpreted the silence, thinking that Y/n was somewhat outraged by the statement, apologizing while moving back to what Y/n suspected was their car “I’m sorry, this was a mistake”. Y/n snapped back then, following Naomi to their car with a quick pace “Naomi, wait!” she said, trying to get Naomi to look at her. The curly haired, which hair was now not so curly as it was soaked and stuck to their face, turned around and looked at her with a pained look on their face. Y/n tried to find the words, but they seemed to be stuck to the walls of her throat. Naomi exhaled, turning back once more to unlock their car. Seeing as the opportunity of confessing was slipping through her fingers, Y/n decided to take matter in her own hands… literally. She got closer to Naomi and took their face into their hands, pulling them in for a kiss. The kiss was short and sweet, and Y/n pulled away to see what reaction that had elicited from Naomi. They just stared at Y/n with a look of shock on their face, that didn’t last so long, as their brain decided to finally act. Naomi took Y/n face in her hands and kissed her again, now deepening the kiss. The moment under the rain seemed to last forever, as both their hearts synchronized in loud thumps. When they finally pulled away from one another, the rain kept pouring over them with an astounding force that seemed to mimic the strength of their feelings for one another. They were both soaked as they stood outside of Y/n’s house, smiling to each other like the infatuated idiots that they were.
“I liked the flower” Naomi said, still not getting away from one another. Y/n laughed, touching her forehead with Naomi’s. “It was not as subtle as I intended it to, I guess” she said, making Naomi laugh now. “I liked it better that way” they voiced, giving a small kiss to the side of Y/n lips. It that was a dream, they both hope they would never wake up.
#naomi mcpherson#naomi mcpherson x reader#naomi mcpherson fluff#naomi mcpherson fic#naomi mchpherson fanfic#naomi mcpherson imagine
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Disney Could Never (Rafe Cameron)
summary: Rafe comes up and tells you SOMETHING while you watch a movie with Wheezie.
Warnings: sexual innuendos-ish, sorta fluff, rafe being lowkey kinda adorable, swearing, confusion, idek but hope you enjoy even though it took me like three weeks to write this
A/n: this is something I'm doing with @pink-princess-pussy-pop so enjoy!
-
You were hanging out in the family room of tannyhill with Wheezie watching The Little Mermaid and just hanging out when you realize you ran out of snacks so you went to the kitchen to grab more.
"Hey, Wheeze, I'm gonna go grab more snacks, okay?" You tell her quickly running to the kitchen because you didn't want to miss any of the movie you've seen countless times.
You're speeding through grabbing the snacks when you feel a strong pair of arms around your waist and a head on your shoulder with a kiss to your neck.
"If this isn't my wonderful, amazing boyfriend than someone is getting punched." You said severely scared about whether or not it was Rafe.
"Don't be scared sweetheart, it's me." Rafe said with the sweetest little gravely sleepy voice that you've been in love with for two years.
"Okay. How you doing sleepyhead?" You ask him in a joking manner but also kinda serious about it and when he doesn't answer you get scared and confused. "Baby, are you okay?" You say turning around in his arms to find him asleep and using you as a form of balance. "Baby, time to wake up. Hello, Rafey?" You say in a soft voice not wanting to startle him.
He groans at your efforts and stands up straight, looks at you with the most sleepy eyes you've ever seen and for a split second you feel bad for waking him up but you quickly shake the thought when you decide to continue on with the snacks. After he realizes that you aren't going to treat him like the huge toddler he is he whines something that sounds like a muffled version of your name into the crook of your neck qnd when you don't respond he walks away to what you thought was your shared bedroom upstairs but oh how wrong you were.
"Okay, Wheeze, I've got some Goldfish, Swedish Fish, little fishing rods I made with pretzels and some sea creature fruit snacks...Rafe, I thought you went back upstairs." You say severely confused as to why your 6"2 boyfriend is splayed across the couch that you and his sister were previously chilling on watching a movie.
He looks up at you with sleepy eyes and your heart melted "not without you baby." he whined with the cutest little pout you have found nobody else could get out of him.
"Come on, Rafey. Time to go upstairs. I'll br back, Wheeze." You say helping Rafe stand up to the best of his current abilities. As soon an you get to your bedroom he falls into a deep slumber or so you thought when you went downstairs.
You thinking Rafe is asleep you sit back down with Wheezie and continue watching the movie that at this point you have missed half of so far because of Rafe wanting cuddles which you cannot give him you suddenly feel breathing on the back of your neck followed by "I'm so hard right now, babe." Whispered in your ear praying to God the Wheezie didn't hear.
"Rafe, please stop scaring me."
"Sorry, babe, you just look so good today" He says with an evil smile you're sure he had to muster up from the depths of his soul because not even ten minutes ago he was falling asleep on your shoulder.
"Hey, Wheeze, I'll be back in just a sec-" you try to say as you get cut off by Rafe pulling you to the other room. "Rafe! What are you doing?" You say rushed so he can't cut you off.
"Sorry, Love, I just wanted to say hi." He says with that signature Rafe smirk.
"You could have just said 'Hi, Babe.' Instead of saying what ever THAT was infront of your 13 year old sister. Don't you think?" You say obviously pissed at him for saying something like that infront of Wheezie.
"M'Sorry Love. Can I kiss you now?" He says with a sincere look that you're not sure you should believe because you know him like REALLY WELL.
"Fine. But only one." You say in a joking tone, one that you both know is fake.
"Okay, baby, whatever you say." He says closing the gap between the two of you not wanting you two to ever leave this moment. At the same time you hear a faint "Ewww, Get a room you two!" Behind you which you could only guess was Wheezie because Ward was at his office, Rose was out somewhere doing Lord knows what with the other Figure Eight Moms and Sarah was with the pogues so it kind of had to be her.
"Sorry, Love, I didn't want her to walk in." He said after pulling away just a bit.
You knew he was telling the truth and gave him a quick peck not knowing when Wheezie would give you two alone time.
"It's okay Rafey, I still love you." You mumble quickly trying to escape him knowing he would never actually let you go without him into the other room.
He looks at you with the cutest serious face he could muster up from the deepest part of his heart. "You better, because if you didn't that would have been a waste of time for both of us." He says somehow annoyingly deadpan.
You just roll your eyes at him because you just want to finish the movie with your boyfriend and his sister because at this point he won't leave you alone.
A/n #2: English IS my first language but I suck at it so I hope you understand also absolutely love this story and if you want more just lmk bc I always want more stuff to do.
Ask me if you want to be apart of my tag list
#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe fluff#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#rafe cameron#drew starkey#drew starkey fluff#rafe obx#obx rafe cameron#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fluff
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*✩‧₊˚
Tea and Treats
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GENDER NEUTRUAL READER
Furina x Reader (Can be read as platonic or romantic)
Sypnosis: Furina decides to invite her manager to her house for some of her favorite tea and treats
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*✩‧₊˚
It was a lovely day today in Fontaine. At least, that's what most people would think as Furina was practically sweating bullets. Why? Well, you see, Furina has decided to invite her manager to her apartment. Her fellow colleagues thought it would be a great idea as Furina is a great writer and they thought she should share her ideas with their manager.
It was fine, right? I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Furina thought as immediately thousands of thoughts came to her mind. She shook her head and went back to preparing.
Tea ☑
Cake ☑
Cooki-
Furina shook her head she already knew everything was ready and organized. After all, it was her 10th time checking. But who was she kidding she was so nervous she had to distract herself with anything abostolutely anyth-
DING DONG
...
Well, maybe not anything... maybe it was her mind making up stuff? Yeah, her mind is just preparing h-
KNOCK KNOCK
"Furina you there?"
Furina was flabbergasted she couldn't speak, but her legs knew what to do as they carried her to the door. She let out a deep breath and opened the door.
"Hello there, manager [name], please come inside"
You both headed inside her comfy abode and took a seat at a table filled with treats and fresh hot tea. You could visibly tell that Furina was nervous and you understood, but you weren't going to fire her or anything just because you don't like her script.
"Soo Furina, I've heard from certain colleagues that you have a script for the current idea running around the studio?"
Furina snapped her head to you and quickly responded.
"YES OF COURSE HERE"
She quickly took out the script with stiff movements it was a few 10 or so pages, not a lot.
"I wasn't writing a lot since it was a small idea I had in my mind"
You flipped through the script, reading the writing and noticing scratched out lines, eraser lines, and corrections to her own grammer, but overall, it was a good script. You took a sip of your tea and looked at Furina.
"This is a great script and I think with your permission of course we can add a few ideas I have as well to create an even greater script, but I do wish for you to be a lead writer in this project"
"OH yes of course!"
Furina quickly nodded her head she looked more relaxed and excitement filled her eyes. You smiled at her.
"Now then shall we enjoy an evening of talk and tea?"
You both spent the rest of the evening having small talk while eating. You could immediately tell Furina was calmer and more comfortable around you.
"Now then Furina thank you for this evening it was great talking to you"
"Of course Mx Manager! I look forward to working with your ideas!"
"Please Furina just call me [name]"
"Of course Mx [name]!"
You smiled, thanking Furina for her time and effort as well as the tea and treats, waving goodbye at her. You walked down the quiet street as you went home for the night.
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Authors Note: Fun fact this took me like several weeks to write because I would get unmotivated halfway through and leave it lmao, my motivation goes 📉📉📉📉📉📉📉
-Stardust☆
#furina#genshin x reader#gender neutral reader#platonic#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin furina#furina x reader#furina x you#furina x y/n#wholesome
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Baby: Part Three
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.2k
Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst, feeling broken and utterly helpless to the point of depression, wanting to die, being shot
Summary: You're trying to prove to Sam and Dean that after two months of having your soul restored, you're all better. You'll gladly play the part if it means they don't worry about you. However, that facade is slowly being stripped away from you the longer you go without facing up to those feelings. You're not okay and you need to stop pretending like you are.
Season Eleven Masterlist
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3
x
You, Sam, and Dean have a calming and nice lunch before the valet returns with his car. Dean looks inside of it in suspicion but doesn't see anything out of order. Dean takes out the extra cash and tips her.
"Strong work, Jessie. Strong work."
"Thanks."
You three get inside the car and Dean pulls away.
"So, what's next?"
"I want to talk to the sheriff's widow, Lily Markham. Maybe she knows something about why her husband was out in the woods in the first place."
"I'll drop you off. Y/N and I will go back to the woods where they found the body. Something wasn't right about those crime scene photos."
After dropping Sam off, Dean heads into the woods and parks in a clearing next to some run-down cabins. He takes out the file containing the crime scene photos and studies them, and you take out your notebook having more you want to say.
I realized that as the Scarlet Witch, I unlocked new sides to my power. Sides that I could never access as the Sapphire Witch. I was able to pull spells from people's bodies, suck their power for myself. I was able to siphon their power to make myself stronger. As the Sapphire Witch, I know I can connect to people's minds and influence them to a degree. As the Scarlet Witch, I was able to take over their minds completely. No one was a match for me. I was too powerful. I've done things I'm not proud of and I have a lot of making up to do, but I'm writing this journal for one purpose only. If you ever see yourself in this situation, just know you're not alone. I felt alone. I feel alone. I don't want you going through it alone.
You pause and tap the end of your pen on the paper in thought. Dean's phone rings and he answers Castiel's call.
"Cas, are you okay?"
"I'm mostly confused. I'm not sure how orange correlates with black in a way that's new."
You snicker and look away from Dean to hide your smile.
"Step away from Netflix."
"Sorry."
"It's okay. We've all had a binge. Did you find anything in the lore?"
"I did find one that feeds on hearts and blood."
"A were-pyre, you might say? Come on, I know you wanna say it," Dean grins.
"In the lore, it's referred to as a 'Whisper'. Silver will kill it but you may want to decapitate it just to be sure."
"Alright, sounds good. Y/N and I are at the crime scene now. It looks staged. The body was dragged and there were no signs of struggle."
"The body was moved there to look more like an animal attack?"
"Yeah, maybe. It was pretty sloppy. What else can you find on these things?"
"Whispers have a fascinating history, actually."
"Hang on."
You look up and notice the Deputy parking a yard away from Dean. You stay seated while Dean gets out of the car to greet him.
"I'm here, Castiel. What is it?"
"They were once believed to be in the bloodline of werewolves but in fact, they are more similar to demons. They got their nickname from how quiet their attacks are. Because of their stealthiness, they've lived on the fringes for centuries. Although, there were several that were hunted and killed during the Salem Witch... Wait a minute. Okay, according to this, Whispers only feed during the solar eclipse. Y/N, I don't think you're hunting a Whisper."
You look up and see the deputy attack Dean from behind. You curse and leave Castiel on speakerphone while jumping out of the car. You rush at the two men who are wrestling for dominance. The deputy is attacking to kill and Dean is attacking to protect himself. You grab the deputy's collar, yank him off your husband, and toss him on the ground next to the car. He crashes into the open door which causes it to slam shut, and you can barely hear Castiel's voice of concern for the noise.
You take out your gun just as Dean does, and he walks over to the deputy. He grabs your husband and yanks him down, apparently not finished with his attack. You shoot the deputy twice in the chest and once more for good measure. The entire passenger side of Baby is covered with blood.
So much for that wash Dean gave her.
Dean steps over the body and slides back into the car while you stand beside the car.
"Dean? Y/N? Are you both alright? I hear gunshots. Dean! Y/N!"
"It turns out she did shoot the deputy," Dean chuckles.
"Wait, Dean, is everything--"
"The deputy was a were-pyre. It's alright. Silver bullets worked."
"No, Dean, listen. According to the lore, the timing is off. The next solar eclipse in North America is years away. It can't be a--"
Deputy Donnelly springs up and slaps his hand on the bloody window which causes you to scream in shock.
"Hang on," Dean groans.
Dean gets out of the car and goes around to the trunk where he pulls one of his machetes from it. You keep your gun trained on the deputy until Dean quickly slices his head right off. The head topples onto the front of the car and the body crumbles to the ground. You sigh and sit in the passenger seat while Dean leans against the car.
"Scratch that. You gotta cut off their--"
The Deputy's eyes spring open and he growls as if he's still alive. He bares his fangs and you stare right into his eyes. You grab the keys from Dean and put them in so you can turn the windshield wipers on. The head has no choice but to be swept off the car by the motion.
"Dean, it's not a Whisper."
"Yeah, we're starting to get that," you say. Dean points his gun at the body of the deputy and shoots him four more times. Maybe that will do the trick. You think it does until you hear him growling from the other side of the car. "This bitch won't die."
"Alright, that's it."
Dean grabs the empty cooler where the beers were and pours the water and ice onto the ground. He grips the deputy's hair and places him inside the box for safekeeping. He takes his phone, which is still connected to Castiel, and snaps a few photos of the man's fangs.
"Castiel, you still there?"
"Of course. What's going on?"
"Whatever it is, silver slows it down. I'm sending you a picture right now of its fangs. I've never seen anything like it. See if there's a match in the lore, would ya?"
"I'm on it."
Dean hangs up with Castiel and sends the photo to him. He sees there is a missed call from Sam and calls him back right away.
"Dean, I got jumped."
"You okay?"
"For now. I'm pretty sure we're dealing with a pack here. Two of these things were attacking Mrs. Markham when I arrived. I filled them with silver but it only slowed them down."
"Yeah, well, Deputy Dumbass is one of them as well. He's in two pieces and still alive. Where are you now?"
"Mrs. Markham was knocked out. I carried her to the house nearby. I'll text you the address now."
"Sit tight. We're on our way." Dean hangs up the phone. "Everybody's getting jumped."
Dean looks at you as he peels out of the wooded clearing. Mrs. Markham is still knocked out when Dean arrives, and Sam places her in the back with you. She has bruises and cuts on her face, and you wish more than anything that you can heal her of that.
"The door was open when I got to the house. By the time I searched through it, they'd already beaten her unconscious," Sam says.
"Maybe she knew something about what happened to her husband."
"You're saying they tried to take her out while the deputy went back to the scene?"
"Yeah, he went to fix it up and found Y/N and I."
Castiel calls Dean back and he places him on speakerphone.
"Hey, Cas, tell me you got something that doesn't involve chicks in prison."
"It's a Nachzehrer. A ghoul and a vampire-like creature."
"A ghoul-pyre! Right?" Dean grins.
When Sam doesn't react, he rolls his eyes and focuses on the road.
"Some breeds feed on the flesh of the dead. Others feed on the blood and hearts of the living. They run in small packs but they usually keep an extremely low profile."
"How do we kill them?"
"They're already dead. In a manner of speaking, they just need to be reminded that they're dead. You need a Charon's obol."
"Of course." Sam nods. "In ancient Greece, when a person died, some people believed you had to put an obol or a coin in their mouth so they could use it as currency to be taken across the river to the underworld."
"Right. Place a coin in a Nachzehrer's mouth then sever their head, and that will kill them. According to the lore, if you kill the pack's alpha, everyone they've turned will revert back to human form."
"Awesome. Where do we find an obol?"
"According to the Men of Letters' records, you're gonna need a copper coin. They used to use pennies, so you'll need one of those."
"Yeah, but one minted pre-1982. Before 1982, pennies were ninety-five percent copper. Since then, they're only copper-plated zinc," Sam explains.
"Wow. Your nerdiness knows no bounds."
"You're welcome," Sam says.
"Thanks, Cas. Way to come off the bench."
"What bench?"
"Just get back to getting better, okay?" Dean hangs up and Sam reaches into his pocket to see if he has any change, and if there are the pennies he needs if he does. "I got nothing."
"There's a shocker. Who carries pennies these days anyway?"
"Get gas. I can get change there."
Dean pulls up to a gas station and thankfully, the pump hides most of the blood from the public. There's not a lot of people around here anyway but you don't want to stick around when someone calls the police because a car is covered in blood. Sam heads inside the gas station while Dean gets out of the car to put gas in the car. Mrs. Markham gasps awake and looks around until her eyes land on you.
"Where am I?"
"My name is Y/N and he's my husband, Dean. His brother, Sam is inside the--"
"What happened? Where am I?"
"You were attacked by the same people that killed your husband."
"My husband..."
"Do you know something about what happened to him? Maybe that's why these people attacked you?" She doesn't say anything. "Okay. Well, we're gonna take you someplace safe, and then we're gonna kill these sons of bitches."
She looks to the right and sees the container with the head. She gets curious and opens it, only to scream when she sees the Deputy's head. You slam the container shut and chuckle nervously.
"I can explain that. It's a," you can't believe you're saying this, "ghoul-pyre. The point is, it can't hurt you anymore. At least I don't think it... You know what? Let's just get rid of it. Dean!" He opens the back door. "Put this in the trunk, okay?"
"Yeah," he nods, having heard her scream.
"Your family. You do anything for them, don't you?" she asks after a pause.
"Absolutely. No questions asked."
"Yes, you do everything for them. Everything else is meaningless. I did it wrong. Now I've ruined everything."
"This isn't your fault."
"I put my family at risk. They were right to attack me, but I know how to make it right."
Suddenly, Mrs. Markham leaps at you and wraps both hands around your throat. She starts squeezing tightly and you full-blown panic. You slap her hands as you try to fight her off but she won't budge. No matter how hard you try, you can't tap into your magic to fight her. You know if you could, you'd be able to overtake her easily. You reach up and scratch her face, anything to get her to loosen her grip. You dig your thumb into her eye and she screams just as she loosens enough for you to suck in a breath.
"DEAN!"
The back door is yanked open and Dean grabs the collar of the woman. He yanks her out of the car, and you cough violently as the pain spreads from your neck down to the rest of your body. Mrs. Markham punches Dean twice and slams him into the side of the car, and she reaches into his jacket when she sees his gun. She slams the butt of the gun into the side of his head and shoves him into the back seat with you. You gather enough strength to fight back but she points the gun at you and shoots.
Time slows down to a stop and for a moment, you're not sure what was shot if who. Pain explodes from your side and you look down to see blood pouring out from your body. You've been shot. She shot you. Sam hears the shot and looks out the window to see Mrs. Markham behind the wheel. She peels out of the gas station just as Sam runs out of the station with his gun in hand. He shoots the back window which shatters the glass but she is too fast for him
"Where is it?! What did you do with the maker's body?! You're gonna tell me or I will end you!" she screams and points the gun at you.
You look down to see Dean passed out from the blow to his head, and you lean your head back on the seat.
"Forrest where your husband was found," you cry in pain.
x
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#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester angst#supernatural#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fluff#supernatural angst#supernatural series rewrite
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