#honestly stop hiring men

[firelise]

I've had 4 female bosses and 3 male bosses in my career so far and the women are so much more competent it's not even close.

I've been trying to sus out what exactly it is, and so far I've concluded that generally the men have this "bought into the system" level of fear (I don't know of WHAT?) that the women don't have. So they approach everything from a "the customer/my overseer is always right, let's just please them" attitude that is fundamentally opposed to my being.

Whereas the women generally understand that everything is bullshit, often give me the benefit of the doubt if a client or someone else is being difficult, know how to say no, and have an innate righteous anger that keeps them from being ass kissers like the men. They are active and bulldozers (because they HAVE TO BE), where the men are passive weak links with poor sense of boundaries.

[justaboutsnapped]

Why you shouldn’t support the upcoming game Black Myth: Wukong

Simply put, the creators behind Black Myth: Wukong are raging misogynists.

Founders and creatives of the studio have:

Joked about former female employees hypothetically doing prostitution

Used suggestive/objectifying/derogatory imagery & phrasing in their hiring flyers (under the cut), e.g. “In addition to hookup buddies, we promise to provide more thoughtful services” , “fatties fuck off”, etc.

Written entire think pieces on how video games don’t need female players or developers, how women are biologically inclined towards “softer” modes of gaming than men (there’s also a bit of homophobia mixed in through language such as “fuck sissies”), how some things should just be made for men, etc. “Fuck sissies, fuck tragic love stories, fuck moon-lit peach blossoms and flute-playing scholars! You don't need the reverse motivation of female players, you don't need to take care of those worms who just want to date chicks. Some things are just for men, their depression, their anger, their pain...”

Made numerous sexually explicit (& honestly incel-like) comments including ones about a female character in Black Myth: Wukong, e.g. “once you get used to this [character design] you can jerk off to it”, etc.

Boasted about how they’re losing followers, who must be women

To no one’s surprise, when people criticise the studio online, they’re met with vitriol about how they’re hypersensitive feminists, too politically correct, etc.

Chinese women have been YELLING non-stop on social media about how bad it is so it’s pretty depressing to see that a lot of non-Chinese gamers, even after reading an IGN article covering the situation, are apathetic. I get that a lot of people are excited about the novelty of a soulslike game based on Chinese mythology, but do you really want to support a studio that actively contributes towards and benefits from misogynistic gaming culture?

Talking about separating the artist from their art is bullshit if you're financially supporting them. Boycott! Pirate!

Here are some sources if you want to see detailed translations, learn more about the situation as well as the misogynistic gaming culture at large China:

[tinythebunni]

older rafe and his disgustingly young gf!

Rafe was a busy, busy man. He was the CEO of a company so he was constantly busy. He still had to take care of his little sister Wheezie, but with his busy schedule he just couldn’t!

which is where you came in. Rafe hired you to babysit Wheezie while he worked his shifts. you only ever had a real conversation with Rafe during the interview. You were so nervous and panting because he just kept gazing at you in ways that made you feel all hot and bothered!

it didn’t help the shirt you wore was basically bursting at the seems! you took it to a dry cleaners the day before but they screwed up. :( Rafe couldn’t keep his eyes off you, palming himself throughout the whole interview. Using all of his willpower to stop from jumping over the table and fucking you right there. his questions were a bit redundant but he needed to keep himself calm. He knew he had to have you, so he hired you on the spot and that was that!

You rarely saw Rafe, only getting a few short glimpses before he left for work in the morning! when your babysitting was over he would come home, pay you, and walk upstairs without a word. it made you a lil upset, did he just not want you anymore? you knew the interview wasn’t just your imagination.

but what you didn’t know is that he did want you. so fucking bad. he had to rush up the stairs so he wouldn’t act on his impulses. but it was just so fucking hard with the skirts you wore and the pretty lashes that made every blink you took look like you were begging.

he had to get away from you as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t ruin what little respect you probably had for him.

eventually you got tired of it and just wanted him, regardless of the punishment. you started calling him Mr. Cameron and pushing him for small talk. everytime he responded you’d look up at him with your doe eyes and hands behind your back. pushing your chest out just a little bit and appearing submissive for him. you knew how men worked!

he got antsy very very quickly. Rafe loved how eager to please you looked, how dumb and fuckable you seemed to get when he was around. but he couldn’t ruin you. touching you in every way he wanted could ruin his reputation, but honestly he didn’t care anymore.

Rafe came home late one day, a hard meeting with an asshole CEO of another company ending in a yelling match, and having to come home just to remember Wheezie was at a friends house.

He thought you’d be gone by now, considering there was nothing left for you to do. but he was so fucking wrong. Rafe walked into the kitchen, looking for his bourbon. after pouring himself a glass, he walked into the dining room just to see you on the floor cleaning up.

the clothes you were in didn’t help, they fit you like a glove and leaved almost nothing to the imagination. you had on a tiny pink skirt, a lacy top with buttons down to the hem, and one of his jackets on.

you looked up, a smirk almost rising to your lips, but you knew you had to keep the act up.

“oh my! ‘m so sorry Mr. Cameron! i was trying to clean up the house for you but i broke a glass. and it was so cold i thought maybe it would be okay if i wore your jacket but i can-“

“shut the fuck up.” Rafe snapped. all patience lost. he took of his coat and unbuttoned his cuffs. you went to stand up but he stopped you.

“did i tell you to get up?” you shook your head, letting it drop back down. “exactly, stay on the fucking floor”

you clasped your hands in your lap, gazing down. Rafe circled around you as if to figure out his next move, while you tried not to make one.

“do you think this is funny? teasing me and practically whoring yourself out just to see if i’ll finally touch you?” you glanced up, wanting to explain yourself but he stopped you.

“eyes down. or you’ll be leaving here high and dry without my hands on you.” you listened to his every word, wanting nothing less than to please him so you could get exactly what you wanted.

Rafe walked over to a chair at the head of the table and sat down. he spread his legs and slouched, allowing yourself to see the bulge poking out of his dress pants. “come here.” he whispered. you hesitated for a second, before moving to stand once more.

“Jesus fucking Christ, how many times do i have to say don’t fucking stand up. i want you to crawl like the needy puppy you are.”

crawling over to him, you tried your best to keep your head down and stay quiet. you whimpered only slightly when you realized how dirty your knees must be.

Rafe lifted your head by placing his thumb under your chin. he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips. you moved closer, eager to get more of him, but he didn’t let you.

he shoved you back, landing on your palms with your chest pushed in the air. Rafe slowly unbuckled his pants, pulling off his belt. he stood up and grabbed you with ease, placing you on his lap and sitting down.

“c’mon baby take what you need. i’ll be nice from now on, swear.”

you nodded eagerly, unzipping his pants and pulling him out of his boxers. his tip was a flushed shade of pink, the slightest bit of precum leaking from the head.

completely losing your confident facade from early and stuttering only slightly you stroked him slowly, watching as his head tilted back in pleasure.

“can i suck you off please? wanna taste you!” you pleaded, cheeks flushed with need.

“nah baby, wanna cum inside you. just lemme fuck you first and we’ll see about that afterwards.” he mumbled, tapping your hips twice to get you to lift up.

he moved your panties to the side, sliding inside you without any warning. the pain was pleasurable and uncomfortable at the same time.

the first few movements of yours were slow, with him not almost as if he was still hesitant. still gripping onto the last little bit of decorum he had. but the second you let out that sickeningly sweet moan right by his ear, he couldn’t take it anymore.

Rafe grabbed your hips fucking up into without a care in the world. you moaned out loud, echoing through the house. tears welled in your eyes from the sheer pleasure Rafe was giving you. he moved his left hand to arch your back onto his chest, forcing his cock deeper into you.

“n-need you to cum first pup, don’t care about nutting right now. wanna feel ‘ya, fuck, cumming around my tip!”

you could only nod your head, the slightest bit of drool dripping out of your mouth. Rafe watched it fall, licking it up and moaning at the taste of you. he was so fucking gross.

“pleasepleaseplease baby, lemme kiss you”he mumbled against your lips, pressing closer and closer as he awaited your response. you were so fucked out you could barely respond!

he slapped your cheek, thrusting inside you with hard fast strokes, jackhammering into you.

“words baby, use them”

you whined out a yes and pressed your lips to his, surely bruising them.

Rafe snuck a hand around your front to press his thumb to your clit, putting pressure on it before rubbing it in circles. the hand he kept on your hip made its way up to your neck, choking you in the best way.

the difficulty and strain of not being able to breathe fully made your eyes roll to the back of your head. you could barely think with the lack of oxygen reaching your brain. Rafe watched as your eyes glazed over, smirking when he saw you wheeze out a whimper. loosening his grip only slightly, he pulled you closer to him.

“cum for me in the next 10 seconds or you won’t be able to breathe until i’m done.” he whispered in your ear.

starting the countdown, he watched as your hips met his every thrust. by the time he got to 6 you were ready to black out, but that rush of euphoria hit and you spasmed on top of him.

your back arched, a scream combined with a moan wrenching itself out of your throat.

the strength of your orgasm making you slump against him, coaxing his orgasm as he saw how pliant you became against him.

he rubbed your back, kissing up your neck as he let you fall asleep and letting your whole body become relaxed. Rafe patted down your ruffled hair and stayed inside of you, letting his cum plug you up. you were gonna be his forever.

[mithrun-house-of-kerensil]

Lately, I've been thinking about Mithrun and the ways he is dehumanized in canon.

Before I get started, we know that elven society is incredibly afraid of death and illness. This is obvious in how they look down on the short lived races and see them as weak and childlike. We also know that Mithrun himself had ableist views toward his brother and these values did not leave him once he, himself, became disabled. He is a product of the society that raised him, but I also think how Mithrun is currently being treated contributes to his view of himself.

Mithrun has had three different caretaking groups over the years. The first are the ones his brother hired for him. From what we can see, they did the job, but we can understand that they did not know what to do with him. No one had ever recovered from having their desires eaten so the focus was less on rehabilitation and more on keeping him alive.

Later we see Milsiril take an interest in him because of his desire to return to the dungeon. Since she did not bother to visit him for decades after finding him, we can assume that there is an ulterior motive here. Timeline-wise, this was when the majority of the canaries had just been wiped out. They needed more men, and Mithrun is set up to be the perfect single-focused soldier.

Honestly, we can assume that Milsiril doesn't really care about him or see him as a person. Mithrun is just a new project for her to play with. We can see this in how she's focused on superficial level concerns like the fact that he doesn't look nice and wanting him to be overly grateful toward her. She also talks about him like he's not in the room and can't hear her. This is a dehumanizing trait shared by many characters when talking about Mithrun.

When he finally does recover enough to return to the canaries, the military does not make any effort to accommodate his needs. We know the canaries are understaffed and the ethics are already bad, but they really did not even try to care about Mithrun's safety at all.

Entrusting a criminal with his care was questionable at best, especially when Cithis immediately took the opportunity to abuse her power over him and no one stopped her.

While acknowledging the light-hearted nature of the manga, it's uncomfortable that Mithrun was treated like a child and an animal by Cithis for her amusement. Regardless of her 'learning to respect him' later, the point is that Mithrun was taken advantage of and degraded because she believed he couldn't say no. No one bothered to do anything about this until Pattadol yelled at her.

Truly his treatment is summarized well by Milsiril here. Mithrun is extremely vulnerable to being abused by those taking care of him because he won't advocate for himself. He has one desire so he won't fight for himself in any other way.

It is obvious that Mithrun was not treated well by his caretakers and this has resulted in him identifying his needs through a disconnected and frankly, infantilizing lens.

I understand that it may have been a translator's decision, but I always thought it was interesting that Mithrun says that he's "not sleepy" which is a childish term. Otherwise, he speaks like everyone else, if not rather posh.

This, followed by the fact that he is responsive to Kabru treating him like a literal infant to get him to eat, paints a clear picture of the fact that Mithrun is not unfamiliar with being treated like this. He responds to it because he's used to it and has no desire to argue with being treated this way. When we consider the fact that the chapter started with Milsiril treating an older child Kabru in the same way, it is likely that she also did the same thing to Mithrun when he was under her care.

In these panels, we see that Mithrun does not believe that he can sleep without magical assistance, even though it is immediately refuted when Kabru takes the time to bundle him up and help him relax. Not only does he fully believe he can't sleep without external assistance, but he states directly that there is no point in him getting comfortable.

As Kabru observes, Mithrun's inability to recognize his needs applies to needs such as hunger and exhaustion, but it obviously also applies to emotional needs. Kabru just wanting to feed him something delicious and not wanting him to give up on life is the most consideration someone has given Mithrun in years.

The relationship they form over the course of a single week is enough to shape Mithrun's behaviour completely. Mithrun ignores Cithis's demand in favour of asking Kabru's opinion. It is Kabru's hand Mithrun takes to pull him out of his defeated state. It is Kabru Mithrun confessed his true desire to.

Do you realize how depressing that is? All it took was the new perspectives from Kabru and Senshi to make him consider the fact that he should keep living despite no longer needing to fulfill his duty. Being treated well could have helped Mithrun much sooner and this shift in the way he sees himself contributes to his recovery going forward.

TLDR: Mithrun has no desire to be respected, but why does that make people feel comfortable acting like he doesn't deserve it? Someone not caring about being treated well doesn't give you permission to treat them poorly. This feels like a playschool-level consent lesson: just because he's not saying no to a humiliating or degrading act doesn't mean it's a yes and therefore okay to do. Acknowledging this is the bare minimum of treating him as a person.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley Date Night Things

A/n: I wanna bet all my money that this will do better than my series ever will because ya'll have such short attention spans (Like me), honestly it's just difficult for me to see people who have like 9k+ notes when before I ended up at 2k at least, and now I'm stuck at 100+. Thinking of giving that up, I'm never satisfied with just a 3-digit number, let alone the number starting below 5. Anyway, something to feed my children <3

My CoD Masterlist <3

Please check out My Series 🥺

Husband!Simon Riley who is enamored whenever he sees you getting ready for a date night, he avoids reservations as much as possible when planning it, so you have as much time you need to get ready.

Husband!Simon Riley who loves watching from the bed as you're putting on your preferred lip product at the time, (which he always takes pride since it happens to be the one he recently bought for you) all the while you're bouncing your baby girl on your hip.

Husband!Simon Riley who tries his best to entertain your other little ones, emphasis on "tries" because he can't stop staring at his gorgeous wife who takes her time and effort just to doll up for him.

Husband!Simon Riley who also volunteers to take the baby when he hears you huff and readjust her on your hip when you're trying so hard to make sure your blush is even.

Husband!Simon Riley who's only ever made an Instagram account to like your posts which mostly consist of you, him, your babies and pet/s. He only has you (and maybe Gaz? Due to a lost bet) followed, granted he has Soap on his follow requests but he's currently messing with him by ignoring it.

Husband!Simon Riley who always leaves little comments on your posts in response to your very long captions during anniversaries. He insists that you post him more.

Husband!Simon Riley who "hires" Uncle Gaz as a babysitter because it saves him money, as much as Kyle insists that Simon doesn't have to pay, Simon gives him a little something. The kids adore him! (Simon doesn't trust Johnny with the kids anymore after he found out from you that Johnny overcharged him because he had no idea about the average prices)

Husband!Simon Riley who only lets you sit across from him for the pictures because you claim that it looks better that way, as soon as you're done, you better get your ass on the seat next to him before he flips out. He hates it when you're too far from his reach, "Lovie, sit back here please".

Husband!Simon Riley who notices how some of the men from the restaurant stare at the way your outfit complimented your figure, how the necklace he gifted drew attention to the perfect cleavage your dress showed off. So, he drapes his coat over you because he'd be damned before he lets another ogle at his wife. (He may or may not be glaring at them all the while)

Husband!Simon Riley who after a nice night out, also bought your daughters separate, smaller bouquets so that they won't be jealous that mommy has flowers, but they don't. Flowers for all his girls <3

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @duck-a-doodle @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @poohkie90 @drewsmusee @sommii @yveevie

[fluentmoviequoter]

Tastes of Home and Cake

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!baker!reader

Summary: You own a popular bakery frequented by celebrities, but when the Mid-Wilshire police station hires you for a luncheon, you go out of your way to make cakes, cupcakes, and favourites to make the day special.

Warnings: fluff, Tim bring grumpy toward everyone except his wife who makes him a softie

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

“The cast of Rings of Power will be here at 10:00 tomorrow instead of 10:15, is that okay?” your assistant, Kasey, asks.

“Of course,” you respond as you spin a tart pan to remove an air bubble from the filling. “Did you hear back from the Scuderia Ferrari people?”

“Oh, yes. I fit Charles and Lewis in for a lunch and tasting five days before the Las Vegas Grand Prix in November of next year.”

“Perfect!”

You pass the tart to one of your bakery sous chefs before you follow Kasey out of the kitchen. The small dining area of your bakery is full, and the door has been closed and locked to give your clients a private meal.

“Good afternoon,” you greet after removing your apron and straightening your outfit. “It’s a pleasure you have you here, and I hope you enjoy everything.”

After several minutes of speaking to your customers and promising to fit them into your booked schedule when they finish filming in several months, you return to Kasey’s side.

“How do you keep your cool talking to celebrities every day?” she inquires. “I talk to their agents on the phone and get a little starstruck.”

“Well, he’s one of the nicest people on the planet,” you point out, referring to Pedro Pascal sitting behind you. “And, at the end of the day, they’re still people. Well-known and sometimes really mean, but they’re customers, just like the small population of Los Angeles that we serve for a few hours every morning.”

“Speaking of that, I need to get back to the people in the LA Times about the feature they want to do on the bakery. Do you want to do it?”

You stop by a tray of cookies and sigh. “I don’t know. Part of me says yes, but then the side that isn’t caught up in the business wonders if it’s worth it to get longer lines and higher wait times.”

“Did you talk to your super-secret boyfriend about it?”

“I did. He wasn’t much help, basically said to do what I thought was right. Just… tell them not right now. If they take that as a no, that’s fine.”

Kasey nods and jots a note in her always-present journal before she notices the whiteboard where you make plans for tastings and events.

“Is all of that for the LAPD luncheon you’re catering?” she inquires, wide-eyed at the quantity and quality of items. “You know they’re paying a flat rate, right?”

“Kasey, I’m going to tell you a secret,” you reply as you slip your apron over your head. “My ‘super-secret boyfriend’ that you constantly ask about… He’s a cop. And my husband.”

“That explains the Madagascan vanilla shortbread cookies,” she mumbles. “Wait, can I meet him?”

“Me first!” one of your regular celebrities yells from the dining area.

You roll your eyes in amusement and then begin working on the croissants for the sandwiches and the dulce de leche cake for Mid-Wilshire’s annual officer appreciation party.

“This is Officer Thorsen,” Kasey introduces as you exit your car at the police station.

“Aaron,” you greet, welcoming his hug.

“Please tell me the department sprung for my favourite,” he replies.

“I might have thrown in a few goodies.”

“You are the best. I was honestly surprised when I heard they’d chosen your bakery.”

You shake your head at Kasey to remind her not to say anything. To her surprise, they didn’t contract with you because your husband works here, just because of your reputation in Los Angeles. The people working in this station don’t even know you have a relationship with one of their own, so your expanded menu should appear to be a nice surprise, showing your appreciation for the brave men and women who keep you and your city safe.

“This is my watch commander, Wade Grey,” Aaron introduces.

“Nice to meet you,” you offer as you shake his hand.

“You, too. My wife has been wanting to visit your bakery, but we never seem to make it in time,” he replies.

“I’ve got some extras packed away in the van if you’d like to take her something. It’s the least I can do.”

“Baker to the stars… how do you like dealing with so many high profile people every day?”

“Most of them are great, just looking for a place to eat some carbs without the paparazzi. There are a few that I try not to have availability for, of course, but it’s the baking that I really love. My assistant handles most of the people side of things.”

“Well, we can’t thank you, and Kasey, of course, enough for fitting us into your schedule. We’ve been looking forward to it for a while.”

“Of course. I hope you don’t mind but I did throw in some free treats, just my way of saying thank you.”

“That’s incredibly kind of you. Let me know if you need any help setting up or finding anything.”

“Thank you, Sergeant Grey.”

After he returns to his duties, you try to let Aaron return to work, but he insists on helping you set up. Thirty minutes later, the bullpen has been turned into a space of food, appreciation, and more cakes and cupcakes than you remember making.

“I thought you said a few freebies?” Aaron murmurs. “Did you leave anything in the bakery?”

“I hope so. Ryan Reynolds will be a little disappointed if I didn’t,” you respond lightly. “I think I’m done here. Thanks for your help, Aaron.”

“Of course- I’m sorry, Ryan Reynolds?”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

Someone gasps, and a moment later, Officer Chen runs up to Aaron’s side and smiles as she says your name.

“I watched the Food Network special on your bakery,” she exclaims. “I’ve never been more excited to eat in my life.”

“I hope you enjoy it,” you reply. “Thank you for all you do.”

“You might want to get food now, Lucy. It looks like a lot but it won’t last forever,” Aaron suggests.

“Precisely my plan,” Wade agrees as he exits his office. “It looks great.”

Standing back, you watch officers come in, chat with one another, and get plates of food and treats.

“That’s a lot of cake,” someone says behind you.

“It’s like you’re trying to set up the joke, Tim,” you respond without turning.

His fingers dance across your back before he moves to stand beside you.

“Too much?” you ask.

“No. I for one appreciate it. I’m glad my getting shot at equals roughly that much cake.”

You lean sideways to hit Tim with your shoulder, and he smiles as he rights himself. He moves away from you when he sees several officers walking toward you with cake and cookies on their plates.

“This is by far the most delicious cake I’ve ever had,” one says. “My mother-in-law is throwing me and my husband an anniversary party and if I have this cake, I’ll actually go.”

“She’s booked through spring of 2027,” Tim interjects. “So, unless you want to get on the waiting list for a tenth anniversary cake, it’s not gonna happen. Tell Mrs. Evers you can’t make it.”

“2027?” the woman beside her muses. “Good for you.”

“Thank you,” you answer. “You all have much more important jobs than me, though. Maybe my assistant can fit you in, so you don’t have to miss your own party.”

“See, Timothy? That’s what being nice gets you,” Angela taunts.

“Well, he’s actually the reason I even brought that cake,” you point out.

Angela cocks her head slightly, her fork halfway between her plate and her mouth as she looks from Tim back to you. The woman beside her, who you assume is Nyla Harper based on Tim’s detailed stories, watches you with similar interest.

“It’s not even my favourite,” Tim grumbles.

“Don’t start with me, Bradford.”

“You made me taste test a bunch of stuff last weekend and I told you it’s good but not Malibu Rum cake good. There is no Malibu Rum cake.”

“Tim, she brought way more than we expected,” Lucy says as she joins your small circle. “Be nice.”

Tim sees your smile and rolls his eyes. Kasey walks by, on the phone with assumably another agent, and passes you three small boxes.

“For you,” you tell Tim. “Though I’m not sure you deserve it now.”

He sees your writing on the corner above the clear plastic top, Malibu Rum <3, and tugs your belt loop to reach a plastic fork on the table behind you.

“Officer Chen, this is for you,” you say, passing her a box. “And this one is for Aaron, who-“

“I’m here. Don’t give it away,” Aaron says, seeming to appear out of nowhere to take the box of his favourite cake with a new cookie.

“Maybe I should get on your waiting list,” Angela muses as she finishes her slice of cake.

“You can jump the line,” you promise.

“What do I do to get Bradford’s taste testing position?” Nyla inquires. “Because if everything you make is a quarter as good as that Pumpkin Maple Biscotti cupcake was, I’ll do anything.”

“I think that privilege is limited to marriage,” you explain with a frown. “But next time I make an entire test batch, I’ll bring some by.”

Sergeant Grey stops behind the three silent women standing before you. They watch you, ignoring Tim as he enjoys his cake.

“So…” Angela begins before shaking her head.

“You bake for celebrities, and you’re married to Tim Bradford?” Lucy inquires.

“You turned down my proposals for him?” Aaron interjects, his brows furrowed together as he returns with a croissant sandwich (after his cake, you notice and make a mental note to tell his mom to watch his reaction).

“One, you proposed just because you like the way a caramel apple souffle tasted, and two, I was already married to Tim,” you reply. “Which seems to be very surprising for some reason.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when I said I wanted to hire her for this?” Wade asks Tim.

Tim shrugs and says, “I didn’t think she’d work you in regardless. Kasey and I told her to charge double.”

“Hypothetically,” Nyla begins, “if I invite you over for dinner and ask for your help, would you cook like this?”

“She wouldn’t help,” Tim answers. You elbow him gently and say, “Of course. It’s the only way I can cook, I think. I prefer baking though.”

“I have so many questions,” Angela murmurs.

“Me too,” Lucy agrees. “Like where’s the farthest place someone has come from to eat at your bakery? Are you allowed to say names?”

“Most of the time I can, after they’ve left, of course. And I think Chris Hemsworth coming from Australia was the farthest.”

“I can’t believe we didn’t know Tim was married,” Nyla points out.

“Yeah, yeah, you can ask questions later,” Tim interrupts.

“We can?” Lucy asks excitedly.

“You can ask, didn’t say I’d answer.”

Tim takes your hand and pulls you away from them, but you wave over your shoulder and thank them once more before you’re in the privacy of a hallway.

“I could fit Angela in,” you tell him.

“Don’t really care,” he admits – honest and blunt as ever – before he kisses you.

“You taste like cake,” you whisper as you pull back.

“What time will you be home tonight?”

“Probably before you. I’ve got an appointment at three and then I’m done. You?”

“Around six. I’ll bring dinner?”

“You’ve got a deal, Mr. Bradford.”

“And you want me to give Angela and Lucy your number,” he guesses, squeezing your waist playfully.

“Smart and handsome! Yes, please, oh and Nyla and Wade. I need to make sure his wife gets to come in, apparently she’s been trying.”

“Isn’t this Kasey’s job?”

“Kasey is mad that I didn’t tell her I was married, and you have to see them all the time. Be nice and help me out and I’ll bring more of the rum cake home.”

Tim kisses you once more before you leave the station to prepare for your next celebrity visit. His subsequent interrogation at the station makes him more eager to get home to you. When he finally walks in with your favourite takeout, welcomed by the smell of brown sugar and butter, Tim knows he’s home.

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC PROMPT #28

(#) = Notes at the end of post

✦

Chartreuse

Due to the high levels of ambient ectoplasm, all the citizens of Amity Park gained a permanent change in eye color. They don't glow or flare in response to rampant emotions like true ghosts or the halfas though. They're just an unnaturally bright yellow-green.

The thing is, nobody else on Earth has this eye color, and it's never been seen in the human race until the recently graduated Amity Parkers started branching out to other cities to find jobs.

Nobody paid this any mind at first, though. Many just thought the individuals liked strangely colored contacts or it was a trick of the light. It's not until Danny and Tucker are both hired for positions in Wayne Enterprises that questions start popping up.

At first, the other employees thought the two might be related. It could happen, it's not that strange. However, when both of them said they're nowhere near related, just childhood best friends, it left everyone confused. If they aren't related and they aren't wearing colored contacts, then what are the odds of too completely unrelated people having the exact same strange and unseen eye color?

After a while, everyone just stops asking questions. After all, both men are easy to get along with and are excellent at their jobs, so a strange eye color isn't really something to complain about. Their stares were just a bit more intense than most people, and honestly, they've seen stranger things.

It helps that they've started seeing other people with the same eye color popping up in celebrity, sports, and activist circles. (1)

However, It's not until the power goes out during a late meeting/presentation, and Tim Drake accidentally turns on and shines his cell phone light into Tuckers eyes, that he starts seriously digging.

Needless to say, the animal-like green shine of his pupils scared the shit out of him and got him wondering if two of his new employees were part of a previously unknown alien race that'd recently settled on Earth without anyone noticing. When he looks into the middle of nowhere town they came from, this idea is even further cemented when he sees every person he finds a photo of have the exact same shade of chartreuse eyes. Ignoring the ghost rumors and "sightings" as just a strange tourist trap for the strange little town to make extra income, he brings the info he found to the other bats and birds.

They aren't exactly welcomed when they go snooping around Amity Park, unfortunately... (2 & 3)

✦

Now. To make this a bit more cracky, when confronted, do Danny and Tucker just come clean or do they milk the idea of them being aliens for all it's worth? (4) Add in a few strange, but perfectly normal for them, things they do that have people scratching their heads and make the assumption even worse/more irrefutable. This includes the unexplainable eye shine Tim discovered.

✦

(1) Paulina became a supermodel and is coveted for her striking eye color and beautiful complexion. Dash became a coach for a well known college in Metropolis, while Kwan became a fitness trainer and sponsor for health related items that actually work, also partnered with the college Dash coaches at. Sam became a notorious environmental activist and is the enemy of many companys who are determined to turn the world into a toxic wasteland. With the help of Danny's parents, she's found many eco-friendly chemical compounds that dissolve many of the toxic substances damaging ecosystems around the world. Etc, etc.

(2) Ectoplasm exposure has made everyone a bit more territorial over the town, including their protectors. They don't need outside heroes/organizations interfering with their work and don't/won't take kindly to the sudden interest hero organizations gain over them and their strange little town. That hasn't worked out too well with other government sanctioned organizations in the past and they don't want a repeat, thank you.

(3) Maybe Team Phantom even established themselves right around the same time or even before the Justice League was formed and they just flew under the radar until now. Maybe Amity Parkers feel a bit superior due to their seniority in having an excellent team in the know about the supernatural/non-human side of the world/universe? Who knows? You pick! Amity Park has been through a lot by themselves, so it's no shocker if they have an extreme amount of solidarity towards those they call their own.

(3 cont'd) Also! Since Amity Park has become so rich and saturated in ectoplasm over the years, they were eventually annexed/became an outside part of the Ghost Zone. Jack and Maddy are border patrol and any ghosts coming through need a passport now. Amity Park is basically a vacation hub for ghosts? Ghosts can freely roam the streets, they just don't wreak havoc anymore. That'd basically be terrorizing their fellow citizens at this point anyway and that's a no no. That means jail time with Walker. Amity Parkers also aren't afraid anymore and in fact CAN hit back now. This does not stop the Bat Clan and eventually the Justice League from thinking they're a town full of aliens tho. Some are just more human looking than others. Or they've been on Earth and procreating long enough with humans that their hybrid offspring have also started looking more human, is the ongoing conclusion.

(4) The Anti-Ecto Acts are not an issue here! Team Phantom already dismantled and annihilated the GIW years before they even thought of leaving Amity Park on its own. Before graduating highschool even. Yes, Team Phantom is perfectly self-sufficient and able to handle their own problems and have kept the city-wide ghost infestation pretty isolated outside a few events that were handled quickly and with the world none the wiser. So the world is still pretty ignorant of the existence of ghosts/the Ghost Zone. Would Team Phantom and Amity Park prefer to keep it that way though?

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent

—

Tw: vivisection mention (not in detail), bad Fenton parents

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 2 here) (Pt. 3 here)

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

It was a dark, cold, miserable night, and Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, wanted nothing more than to be home, covered in blankets with the heater set to max as he worked on his most recent strain of fear toxin.

Instead he was at the docks, standing in as backup for the Penguin as he made a deal with some sleaze-bag smugglers. Something about some sort of body armor for his hired help. Crane hadn’t really paid much attention to the Penguin’s words, only caring enough to show up because of the reward.

But honestly, he couldn’t care less about the money at this point.

He was cold, and miserable, and his leg hurt something fierce (he’d had chronic pains ever since being mauled by Killer Croc some time ago), and he was so, so close to a breakthrough with his new toxin, and he really couldn’t stand the Penguin anyways. The only thing keeping him there was his reputation as a rogue.

Just as Crane was deciding that the whole ordeal wasn’t worth it, he heard the sound of a chase a few blocks down. With a deep, heavy sigh, he moved from the wall he had been leaning against, looming in the alleyway as he waited for the potential threat to reveal itself.

A few moments later, a boy came careening into the alleyway, sliding to a stop when he noticed the Scarecrow, his eyes growing impossibly wide. Beneath the mask, Jonathan grinned.

The boy swore, loudly, glancing between Scarecrow and the exit of the alleyway. As the echoing sound of footsteps grew closer, he chose to face the way he came, turning his back to Scarecrow.

What an idiotic way to get killed. Either the boy was a complete and utter fool, or there was something out there worse (to him, at least) than the Scarecrow.

Jonathan Crane tilted his head slowly, considering. He could just cut his losses and leave, Penguin be damned, or he could stay and see what had the boy so spooked.

Eventually, unfortunately enough, his curiosity won out. He shifted, bringing a hand to his side where he kept several canisters of fear toxin.

Crane had to bite back a groan when the boy’s pursuers entered the alleyway.

It was those damned idiots in white suits.

They had been tailing him for weeks now. They were easy enough to fight, but they were annoyingly persistent, and always seemed to have a way to find him. (Not to mention, the Riddler had strong opinions on their outfits, and if he had to hear the white-suit-in-Gotham rant one more time he was going to throttle him.)

Led by the men in white was a woman in a teal hazmat suit. Jonathan had seen her around, too, though less frequently than the others. He had honestly assumed that she was just a new C-tier rogue and avoided her like the plague.

Her eyes went wide as saucers when she saw Jonathan standing a few feet from the boy. No one moved a muscle.

“Danny,” the woman spoke softly. The boy, Danny, flinched, glancing between her and Scarecrow, “come on, we can talk about this. Your father and I only want to help you.”

He was running from his mother?

Scarecrow paused after that revelation, choosing to fully take in the boy’s appearance.

He was lean, almost gaunt, and wearing clothes several sizes too big for him, probably stolen. His entire body shook, from fear and cold both, and he clutched his stomach with one hand. At first, Scarecrow assumed that it was due to being out of breath, but as he looked closer he could see blood staining the dark fabric of the boy’s shirt.

He was injured, underweight, and running from his parents.

Something that felt a lot like rage swelled in Jonathan’s heart.

“Danny, you don’t get it! We’re so close now. We can fix you, and then we can go home, and everything can go back to normal,” she said, smiling in a way that was clearly supposed to be reassuring. She took a few steps forward, the men behind her clearly readying their weapons.

The boy backed away from his mother, inadvertently coming closer to Scarecrow.

He glanced up at Crane again, his blue eyes shining in fear, but not of him.

Sickening. Sickening.

In one fluid motion, Jonathan grabbed the boy by the wrist, pulling him behind him, and threw a large canister of fear gas into the group who had been chasing him.

The liquid in the container turned to gas as soon as it broke open, billowing out and filling half of the alleyway with a thick yellow smog.

The boy gasped, pulling his shirt over his face in a pathetic attempt to filter out the toxin. It would have to do, though, Scarecrow thought, rushing forward to force the boy’s aggressors to breathe in the gas.

The fight that the men put up was pitiful. The few individuals who didn’t breathe in the toxin immediately were clearly unused to fighting hand-to-hand, and dropped like flies in Scarecrow’s wake.

Just as the men began to spasm and shout in their terror, as if on cue, the familiar wail of police sirens reached the Scarecrow’s ears.

He heaved a heavy, irritated sigh, fingers twitching for a cigarette. He was trying to quit as of late, but he felt that after today, he might deserve one.

Though now was not the time to be thinking of cigarettes.

Jonathan approached the boy, mindful of any signs he might run off.

The boy didn’t seem to notice his approach in the slightest, just staring at the woman in the jumpsuit as she writhed on the ground.

Right. That would most likely be traumatic for a child to see, wouldn’t it?

Scarecrow moved in front of the boy, blocking his line of sight. The boy looked up at him now, his face completely blank.

“The police are on their way,” Scarecrow spoke, his voice low. The boy didn’t acknowledge him in any way.

“You don’t want to be here when they arrive, do you?”

After several moments pause, the boy shook his head slowly. He looked numb.

Dissociation, most likely.

“You’ll come with me, then.”

It was a statement, not a question, but he waited for the boy’s response regardless. As soon as he nodded in agreement, Jonathan lifted him up, carrying him out of the cold, miserable alleyway.

Scarecrow paused briefly to warn the Penguin of the incoming officers through the comm he had been given, and then he was off, weaving through the streets and alleyways towards his getaway car.

…

The drive back to his safe house was quiet. The boy didn’t look over at him once, instead opting to stare out ahead of him.

…

Luckily, they were able to make it back without detection. Jonathan ushered the boy into his small apartment, sitting him down on the dingy couch that had come with the lease.

“Wait here, alright?” Jonathan said, the boy nodding once in response.

With that, he retreated into the small kitchen, looking for some sort of warm beverage.

It was nearly three in the morning now, so coffee was out of the question. He was completely out of the hot chocolate he had bought for whenever Eddie or Harley came over for a visit, so that was out too.

He supposed the only option was his chamomile tea. Did teenagers like tea? He supposed it didn’t really matter, the kid was on the run from his parents in the house of a Gotham rogue. Surely he had bigger things to worry about.

Jonathan made the drinks quickly, leaving the kitchen with two mugs in hand. He gave one to the boy, who looked up at him in surprise, before settling into his own seat.

It was an incredibly comfortable old leather armchair that he had gotten some years ago and stubbornly held onto ever since. He usually had one of the rogues he was at least somewhat friendly with pick it up when he entered Arkham.

Whenever Eddie and Harley were over, they would call it his old man chair, and he would tell them to leave.

The two of them sat quietly for a while, drinking their tea slowly. It was clear that the boy was leaving whatever headspace he had slipped into, becoming more alert (and uncomfortable) by the second.

“So,” Crane began, pausing before speaking more quietly when he saw the boy flinch, “you knew them.”

It was not a question.

The boy nodded, curling in on himself. He held the mug close to his chest, no doubt soothed by the warmth.

“They’ve been following me around for some time now,” Crane continued, “and you’re going to tell me why.”

The boy looked up at him, a pained expression written all over his face.

“You won’t believe me,” he murmured, curling up even further.

His clothes were soaked. Jonathan should have put down a towel before letting him sit down.

“Sure I will,” he said, ignoring the blood and water seeping into his furniture.

The landlord would not be happy.

“It’s gonna sound crazy.”

“I’ve been to Arkham.”

The boy paused, before mumbling something quietly.

“Again? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said,” the boy huffed, quickly changing his tone when he remembered who he was talking to, “they…think you’re a ghost.”

“A ghost,” Crane repeated flatly.

“I told you it was gonna sound crazy!” The boy protested, before wrapping his arms around himself.

“Well,” Jonathan hummed, “it’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard in Gotham. Explain it to me.”

The boy paused, glancing up at his face, no doubt looking for some sign of mockery. He found none.

Then, he opened his mouth, and explained everything he could.

Ghosts, the portal to another world, the GiW, his parents. It was all incredibly far-fetched, but also far too consistent to be made up on the spot, and Crane could tell that the boy genuinely believed what he was saying.

“…but, if you don’t believe me, fine. I know it probably sounds stupid and fake,” he mumbled, looking away.

“I’ll believe you for now,” Crane said. The boy whipped his head up, staring at him in shock.

“If I do trust that what you’re saying is true, though, then why do I show up on their equipment as a ghost? I’m not dead, and never have been.”

“Um,” the boy hummed, looking somewhat nervous. Understandable, really.

“Well, have you by any chance been involved in any lab accidents recently..?”

Jonathan Crane froze, his face dropping. The boy noticed his change in demeanor, flinching slightly.

“Penguin,” he hissed out, his voice slightly inhuman. “Cobblepot, that motherfucker.”

“Wait—calm down! The angrier you get, the easier you’ll show up on the radar!”

Crane glared down at the boy, seething with rage. He once again flinched, looking away from him. With an extraordinary amount of effort, Jonathan slumped back down in his chair, breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself.

When he cracked his eyes back open, the boy was openly staring at him, curiosity written all over his face.

As soon as he noticed Crane looking back at him, he glanced away, straightening in his seat.

“Well, you’ve given me a lot to think about. In the morning, we’re going to discuss this in a lot more detail,” he said, standing up with slow movements. The boy stood as well, hands clasped together.

“For now, though, you’re going to let me take a look at that wound of yours, and then you’re going to take a shower and go to bed.”

The rest of the night went rather quickly.

The boy was rather hesitant to show him his wound, instead assuring him that it had been properly sewn up and that he was fine. Crane was having none of it, though, and gave him a once-over just in case.

It was, very clearly, the kind of cut used during an autopsy. Danny didn’t offer any information, so Crane had to assume that he was either back from the dead, or he had been vivisected. Either was possible in Gotham.

At the very least, Danny hadn’t lied about the stitches, and the wound was already beginning to heal.

With that, Danny showered quickly (he leapt out with a shriek the moment the hot water ran out), and went to bed in borrowed clothes without much complaint.

Thus, Jonathan was left with cold water for his shower, and slept on the still-damp couch so that the boy could have a bed to sleep in. Somehow, he found that he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Can I request #56 with good old grumpy Quinn 🫶

Okay but this prompt is also me, I don't do hugs unless forced and I look like I am in physical pain every single time. Now if it was any of the men I stan yeah I will take a hug from them any day, any time.

Drabble Masterlist.

"I don't do hugs."

Everyone knew Quinn was the captain of the Canucks and hockey was everything in Vancouver. But you first met Quinn when you started working for the Canucks in their social media team. It was no secret the Canucks social media was just depressing. They needed help keeping their social media up to date on trends and stop being dragged on Twitter for looking like it was ran by a 45 year old man.

That was during last season when they entered playoffs. Quinn hated you when you were hired he thought it was stupid that you forced the guys to do TikTok's, and made dumb little polls on their Instagram. But somehow over time you both got to a point of mutual respect for each other. Both of you may not like each other but neither of you rolled your eyes when you both passed each other in the hallway. It was now September and the preseason officially kicked off in days. Media day was a such a long day for you, trying to fit as much filming as possible around players other obligations. Your day was filled with meeting with different members of the social media team, editing, trying to plan out all when you were gonna post during the season, more editing, and meeting with photographers to see camp photos that are being taken.

Caught up in all the things you had to do today you didn't even notice what time it was until you heard someone knock on your office door. Without even coming in you shouted "come in." The last person you ever suspected that would walking into your office / social media room would be Quinn Hughes.

"hey." His voice caused you to stop typing for the first time since he entered looking up making sure your ears identified the voice currently as Quinn. "I - uh - I noticed your office light still on and uh well it's almost 6 at night." You could tell he was getting nervous for some reason his hand going to the back of his neck as he continued to stumble on his words. "And I uh remember you told Petty last year that you don't eat when you get focused on work. So I - eh - I thought I'd bring you some food from catering staff. Hope you like salmon." As he put the to-go container from the catering department on your desk and suddenly you felt your stomach begging for food. Looking up at him your eyes soft in how much Quinn cared enough even though you aren't even friends. It just showed you agian that even though he hates the media aspects of his job he really is a sweet guy who cares about everyone in this franchise.

Standing up making a way around your desk you mumble out a thank you. "Honestly Quinn I could hug you right now." Taking a step forward and wrapping your arms around Quinn.

As you wrapped your hands around Quinn, it was the exact moment he said "I don't do hugs" and made a face that seemed like he was uncomfortable but you couldn't see it as your arms were wrapped around him.

"Well too late were already hugging." you mumble, your voice muffed by his chest. Even though Quinn Hughes hated hugs, he let you stand there and hug him. Just when he thought about hugging you back you pulled away and his mood became sour suddenly. Even on his way home that night he found himself annoyed for not just hugging you back and he's not really sure why.

[gucciwins]

Y/N just wants Harry to like her.

Word count: 5964

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

Now happy reading! I love you

+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Everyone would ask Harry to join. 

Karaoke. Can’t hold a tune.

Bowling. Too loud. 

It seems there was an excuse for everything.

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

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

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

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

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

No answer. 

“I’m going to take that as a yes.” 

He fidgets with his fork. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Any good?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s this one about?”

“My sister recommended it,” he defends. 

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

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

“Like the movie?” Y/N asks.

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

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

He frowns, “if you like Jane Austen.” 

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

+

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

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

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

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

“Where to?” He asks curiously. 

She silently cheers, “Iceland.”

“Is that your dog?” 

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

“Why isn’t Tutter on your desk?” 

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

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

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

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

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

+

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

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

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

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

Harry knows she’s trying for them to understand.

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

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

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

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

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

Enjoy - HS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wanted to apologize,” he begins.

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

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

“It can just be too much sometimes.”

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

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

“See you in a bit then.”

+

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

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

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

“Hi, Y/N, pretty shirt.” 

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

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

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

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

“Everyone is going?”

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

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

“You will?” Y/N answers surprised. 

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

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

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

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

+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry likes Y/N.

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

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

“I did,” he answers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a good one,” he agrees. 

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

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

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

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

“Safe, uh, I feel safe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so they continue on. 

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

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

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

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

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

“With Phoebe Waller-Bridge?” 

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

“Paul Mescal,” he adds. 

“Hozier.” 

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

“You’ve got taste, Styles.” 

“As do you.” 

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

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

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

“It’s now or never, girlfriend.” 

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

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

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

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

Y/N backs down, relaxing, “okay.” 

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

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

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

“By all means, lead the way.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me walk you up.” 

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

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

“Hmm…only if you’re on my team.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Ask me,” he pleads. 

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll see you Monday,” he promises. 

“Too far.

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

“Okay,” she whispers in defeat. 

“Good night,” Harry takes a step back. 

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

Harry can’t say no.

+

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

“Hi, Harry.” She chirps. 

“Morning,” he answers timidly. 

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

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

“A date?” He echoes. 

“With me,” she giggles.

“Best thing I've heard all day.”

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

“How does this weekend sound?” 

“Too far,” she teases. “Saturday?” 

“I’ll pick you up,” he promises. 

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

“Yes, love?” 

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

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

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

[harrywavycurly]

Handle With Care: Highly Recommended

Masterlist: here

CW: Frat Harry, language, Harry is a bit of an ass, bit of angst, your ex shows up and is a dick (this is the only time you’ll see him)

A/N: Honestly Harry is gonna be going through it in this mini series so just buckle in because he’s in for an emotional roller coaster, also Niall is in this because as if I can have frat Harry without frat Niall. Enjoy!✨

Tag List: @gmikaelson @ell0ra-br3kk3r @tulips4harry @mellamolayla @mads3502 @empathyroad @idk199o @sassamanda77 @maudie-duan @macy-tpwk @coralferrio1

Summary: You hire a company to help move you into your new apartment and someone ends up dropping a box and hurting your feelings📦✨

You let out a sigh as you stand in the middle of your small campus apartment that’s currently filled with boxes, finding it hard to believe that after almost four years this is the last morning you’ll ever spend in this space. You look around and smile as memories flood your mind of the various milestones that took place in this cramped space, such as when you got broken up with by who you thought at the time was the love of your life while sitting on the edge of your twin size bed or the time your friend got too drunk at a party and ended up falling asleep on your living room floor and woke up the next day with a piece of pizza stuck to her forehead. But the most recent one that comes to the surface of your mind is when you were sitting on your couch and got the call you’d been waiting for, that the job you applied for and wanted more than anything was yours.

You don’t get to reminisce for much longer as a loud knock on your door makes you let out a startled squeak as you jump a little at the noise. You quickly take a step towards the door and raise an eyebrow at the conversation happening on the other side of it.

“M’telling you her name was Jenny.”

“And I’m telling you her name was Jamie.”

“Oh fuck off Harry you’re shit with names and you know it.”

“Not the names of hot-”

The two men standing in the hallway immediately stop their conversation and turn to look at you as soon as you open your door, the one with blonde tips but darker colored roots and bright blue eyes gives you a smile and a small wave. But the one with a backwards SnapBack covering his brown curls and green almost emerald colored eyes doesn’t do anything but stand there and not so subtly allow his eyes to roam over your body for a moment before they dart back up to your face. You give them both a smile and step to the side letting them enter your apartment, it’s then that you notice how similar in age to you they appear to be and when you look at their attire you can’t help but wonder how long they’ve been doing this job because you’ve never seen movers arrive in skinny jeans or basketball shorts.

“Uh so I’m not sure-”

“Oh shit sorry where are my manners? I’m Niall.” The blonde one laughs as he holds his hand out for you to shake. “And that grumpy fuck over there is Harry and we are your hunks for this morning and you’ve got us for two-oh no sorry uh you’ve got us for three hours.” He explains as you reach out and shake his hand, you glance over to Harry who is eyeballing the amount of boxes in your living room, not paying any attention to the conversation going on between you and Niall.

“Lovely to meet you both.” You say as you introduce yourself and let go of Niall’s hand. “Do you two do this a lot?” You ask making Niall laugh while Harry just rolls his eyes as he walks into your small bedroom.

“You could say that.” Niall answers as he slides his phone into the pocket of his silver basketball shorts after he checks the time. “This is our summer gig and we’ve been doin it for a few years but seein’ as we graduate in a few weeks this is one of our last jobs as official college hunks.” You can’t help but smile at Niall’s Irish accent, it just makes everything sound so much more interesting.

“I graduate in a few weeks as well.” Niall just smiles at your announcement not wanting to tell you he figured as much giving the whole moving out of your on campus apartment, but he’s a gentleman so he just keeps that to himself.

“No shit.” You quirk a brow at the sound of a British accent making a mumbled comment from behind you in your kitchen. Niall’s face drops as he sends a glare over your shoulder making you turn your head only to find Harry leaning against your counter with his arms crossed over his chest, letting you get a quick view of the random tattoos scattered on his arms. When he catches your stare he raises a questioning eyebrow at you.

“What? I mean it’s obvious you graduate soon that’s why you have to move out which is the whole reason we’re here.”

“Right. Sorry.” You feel your cheeks get hot as you turn to look back at Niall who gives you a warm smile as you walk by him and into the living room where the majority of your boxes are. “Uhm it’s just boxes and my bed the rest-”

“The twin? That’s your actual bed?” Harry asks with a hint of shock mixed into his voice as he pushes himself off the counter and motions towards your bedroom.

“Uh yes that’s mine it was cheap and I didn’t need anything bigger-”

“That’s not surprising.” Harry mumbles as he pulls his phone out of his back pocket, Niall just rolls his eyes and shakes his head before he gives you his full attention.

“So the boxes and your bed is all we’re takin’?” Niall asks just to confirm what you were saying before Harry interrupted you.

“Yes and uhm some boxes I labeled with stickers so you’ll know which ones to be a little careful with.” You explain as you point to a box on your kitchen counter with a few red “fragile” stickers on it, Niall just nods and turns to look at Harry who is scrolling on his phone not listening to anything you’re saying.

“Hey asshole did you hear that?” Harry lifts his head up at the sound of Niall shouting at him and gives him a shrug.

“It’s boxes and a toddler sized bed frame Niall it’s not fucking rocket science.”

“You’re just so much fun to be around in the mornings Harry no wonder all your lady friends leave before the sun comes up.”

“I don’t cuddle. That’s why they leave. Now are we doing the bed first or the boxes?” Harry slides his phone into his back pocket as he waits for Niall to answer his question. You watch Niall look around your living room and then walk into your bedroom so he can get a better idea of how many boxes you have. But while Niall is busy doing that you feel as if someone is staring at you but when you turn to look at Harry he quickly looks away and down at his scuffed up boots, another thing you’ve never seen movers wear.

“Do you always dress like this to move people?” You don’t know why you ask him because you already can tell from the few things he’s said to you that he for some reason doesn’t like you. So it’s no surprise when he looks down at his white tank top and black skinny jeans with his scuffed brown boots that when he looks back up he has his eyes narrowed in a harsh glare aimed directly at you.

“Well if you really want to know.” You watch the corners of his mouth curl up into a smirk as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I forgot we had this job today so I didn’t sleep at my place last night” Only the last part of his confession takes you by surprise, seeing as you’re sort of used to being easily forgotten or pushed to the side for something or someone else so you don’t take it too personally you just take it as Harry isn’t very organized with his time.

“Oh uh well for not knowing you had work today I’m uhm glad you weren’t late.” You stumble through your sentence making Harry let out a quiet laugh that you know isn’t at what you said, it’s more so just him laughing at you.

“Let me guess this is how you always dress huh?” He asks in what you know is a teasing tone as his eyes travel down to your t shirt and black shorts with little flowers all over them before finally landing on your white slip on shoes making you feel extremely self conscious.

“Uh yes why-”

“Okay let’s load the bed first then just pile all the boxes around it.” You turn and face Niall as he walks out of your bedroom with his phone in his hand, he gives you a smile as he holds his phone out towards you. “Just need you to initial right here for me love, this says we are starting at nine fifteen and your three hours starts now.” He explains in a soft and friendly tone as you take his phone and put your initials next to where he’s pointing with his free hand.

“Okay great.” Niall just smiles as you hand him his phone while Harry heads into your bedroom to start grabbing your bed frame.

“Alight Styles let’s do this.” As soon as you hear Niall say the name Styles you’re hit with the realization that you know you’ve heard that name before, you just can’t remember where.

Harry doesn’t know what it is about you that irritates him, it could be the way you just seem too happy at nine in the morning or maybe it’s the way you smile every time you see Niall walk into the room but either way something about you rubs Harry wrong and has him acting in a way that’s not like himself. Now he’s not the sweetest person alive, not by a long shot but he’s known to be charming and maybe a bit cocky but still he’s never been called rude or a jerk by anyone unless maybe by a girl he turned down for a date or a fling he had to explain his lack of feelings for when it came time to end things but other than that Harry is known around campus to be a relatively nice guy. He figures you have to be nice in order to get the things you want, and in his case it might be a date to a party his fraternity was throwing or a quick hookup on a night out at a bar, being nice works quicker than being the typical douchey fraternity brother people assume he is but something about you has suddenly turned him into what he usually isn’t, an asshole.

He can’t be bothered to return any of your smiles, no matter how nice they are or how they make a weird little fluttering feeling start up in the pit of his stomach. He chooses to distract himself with a game on his phone or going to look around your boxed up apartment while you and Niall discuss the logistics of the move. He tries to ignore the way your room smells as if he just walked into a field of flowers on a warm summer day and he will absolutely deny the fact he quite likes it. So much so he finds himself taking a deep inhale as he walks towards your connected bathroom where it seems to be the strongest making him believe it might be the body wash or shampoo you use in the shower. He shakes his head in an attempt to clear his mind as he heads back into the living room, coming to the conclusion that the smell was just messing with his head a bit and he doesn’t at all want to be wrapped up in it for the rest of his life.

When he walks back into the living room he sees a box that’s open and since your back is facing him because Niall is going over the spiel about how they won’t be doing this job for much longer he takes the opportunity to take a little peak. He doesn’t expect to see much of anything really, maybe some random clothes or decorations you packed last minute so when he looks in and sees a photo of you and some guy hugging and smiling at each other like two idiots in love he has to stop himself from grabbing it and taking a closer look to see if he recognizes the man. Harry ignores the weird feeling in his chest as he sees a small teddy bear and some other items in the box with the photo and he wonders if this box is full of things the man in the picture gave to you, if it is then he has cheap taste because Harry knows for a fact the teddy bear looking up at him was a free gift with purchase at one of the campus stores last Valentine’s Day.

When he decides he’s seen enough he quietly makes his way into the kitchen and leans against the counter as he waits for instructions from Niall on how he wants to handle this move. When he hears you mention you’re graduating soon he doesn’t mean to let the words slip out of his mouth, truly he doesn’t. He meant to say it in his head but again, something about you has him knocked off balance so when you look at him with a raised brow he has no choice but to explain his sudden outburst and it doesn’t come out as nicely as he intended making him feel like an asshole when he sees your cheeks get pink out of embarrassment. But of course he can’t just simply stop there, no he has to go and make a comment about your bed as if it’s any of his business really because who is he to judge you for keeping a twin sized bed when in reality he just graduated to a queen size himself after moving out of his frat house two weeks ago.

It’s when you try to make small talk with him that has him thinking insane things such as the possibility you’ve got him under a spell or something because why can’t he stop himself before saying something rude like he normally can? It’s as if his mind and his mouth are having a battle and his mouth is winning causing him to really look like an absolute asshole. The look on your face when he says he forgot about the job today; which was a lie because he had it saved to the calendar on his phone and even set a reminder alarm and everything, is one that almost takes him out of his irritated state because it’s as if that’s something you’re used to hearing. Like people forgetting about things that pertain to you is a common occurrence and that has him instantly wishing he could take the whole interaction back but he can’t. And the worst part of it all is he knows what you’re thinking, that he spent last night with some girl or “lady friend” as Niall calls them but he didn’t, he spent it on his friend Tyler’s couch after he fell asleep at an embarrassingly early hour after one too many beers while watching a football game.

He’s never been happier to actually start a job before, because as long as he’s busy that means he won’t have to be near you for longer than the few minutes it takes for him to grab another box or two and head back down to the truck and the best part is, he simply wont have any time to stand there and talk to you. As soon as he’s in the hallway with your twin sized headboard and footboard in his arms it’s like he can finally breathe again, but he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t immediately miss the flower and sunshine smell but still, he feels at ease and even smiles to himself as he waits in the area the elevators and stairwells are at for Niall who has some pieces to your bed frame in his arms.

“Dude what the fuck is wrong with you?” Harry knew this was coming the moment he first let out a huff in front of you, Niall isn’t one to take being rude to someone for no reason very lightly especially someone who hasn’t been anything but nice since she opened her door. “Why are you being a ragging fuckin’ twat to the poor girl?”

“I don’t-I just can’t help it?” Niall glares at him for a moment before he just walks by him and puts the parts to the bed frame down so he can press the button for the elevator.

“Well figure it the hell out because she’s nice and I don’t want her leaving a shit review because you can’t get your head outta your ass.” Harry doesn’t say anything in response, he just looks down at the floor as they wait for the elevator doors to open.

Harry has two boxes in his arms and is half way to the truck parked on the street outside your campus apartment building when he hears someone calling his name. He looks around with a furrowed brow as he continues on his way to the truck not seeing anyone heading his way until his eyes land on someone he didn’t plan on seeing anytime soon since usually he only sees him trying to sneak his way back into house parties after being kicked out for getting too rowdy or just pissing the entire chapter off. The smile on the man’s face makes Harry want to roll his eyes at how fake it is, but he just gives him a simple nod of acknowledgment as he places the boxes on the floor of the truck and with one hard shove sends them sliding towards the back near your bed.

“What’s up Styles? You helping someone move?” Cody asks as he takes a quick glance into the back of the truck, Harry just turns around and leans against the truck as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“It’s kinda my job so yeah.” He answers with shrug which for some reason makes Cody laugh as he runs a hand through his short dirty blonde hair. “What are you doing here? It’s a bit early for you to be awake isn’t it?” Harry is lucky that Cody isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed because his tone is anything but teasing but it seems the man doesn’t notice as he just turns and looks at the building behind him and then back to Harry with a simple shrug of one of his shoulders.

“I’m just here to get some stuff from someone.” He answers and Harry just nods expecting that to be the end of it but Cody lets out a sigh as he shoves a hand in his back pocket to grab his phone. “You know how crazy ex girlfriends can be. Always coming up with dramatic reasons to make you come over.” Harry in fact doesn’t know, having ended his only two serious relationships in a very civil manner so he’s never had to deal with anything close to a crazy ex.

“Oh got it.” With that Harry uncrosses his arms and takes a few steps towards the building and away from Cody who is looking down at his phone with a furrowed brow. “Good luck mate.” He sarcastically calls over his shoulder with a shake of his head as he thinks of the poor girl who’s about to have to deal with that jackass.

“Okay so just these boxes left?” Niall is pointing to a stack of boxes on your kitchen counter when Harry walks back into your apartment, and for a moment he thinks he’s finally out of whatever weird daze he’s been in over the past hour while helping you move because he doesn’t find himself being hit with the overwhelming smell of flowers and sunshine. He walks into the kitchen and stands near your sink waiting to hear what’s left for the two of them to take to the truck.

“Yes and those are the ones with-”

“What the hell is going on in here? Are you-you’re actually moving?” A loud voice coming from your front door startles you as you make the tiniest little squeak and bring your hand up to your chest.

Now Harry has been good for the last forty five minutes, he hasn’t looked in your direction or given himself too much time in the apartment alone with you to allow himself the opportunity to say something dumb or more importantly, rude. But at the sound of Cody’s voice he can’t stop himself from looking at you and the moment he does he regrets it because the look on your face is one of not only shock but Harry swears there’s also a hint of nervousness hidden behind your eyes and it’s all directed towards the man standing only a few feet away from where you’re standing in your living room.

“Uhm yes I-I told you remember? That’s why I asked you to come get-”

“I thought that was some bullshit lie to just get me over here so we could talk.”

“Oh uh well I asked you over here three-three weeks ago and you uhm ignored my texts.” Harry feels his hands clenching into fists at his sides as he watches Cody roll his eyes as he takes a step further into your small apartment.

“I mean we aren’t together so I don’t have to answer your texts or calls any-wait Styles? Oh shit Horan? She’s the one you’re helping move?” Niall looks at Harry over his shoulder and rolls his eyes before looking at Cody with a smile that only Harry would be able to tell is fake.

“Obviously.” Harry snaps making Cody look at him with a raised brow.

“How did you even hear about these guys?” Cody asks you while still staring at Harry, you look at Niall who gives you his signature warm smile as he walks towards the kitchen to grab a box off the counter.

“Oh uhm Monica recommended them.” Your answer makes Cody laugh as he finally looks away from Harry and over to you while Niall silently makes his exit with a box deciding he doesn’t want to be around Cody and his bullshit any longer.

“Monica?” You nod and Harry hasn’t ever wished the world would open up and swallow him whole until this very moment, as soon as you said the name of who told you about their company Harry knew exactly who you were talking about and he knows Cody does as well.

“She’s a friend of yours isn’t she Styles?” Harry acts like he doesn’t see the way your eyes dart over to him as Cody crosses his arms over his chest while turning to fully face Harry.

“I know her yeah. Helped move a couch to the dumpster for her. That’s all.” It’s only a partial lie, he very much didn’t just help her haul a couch to the dumpster but he really doesn’t want you to know about any of that because he knows it’ll just solidify the idea you have in your mind that he’s an asshole who sleeps around.

“Don’t be so modest it must’ve been a good time if she recommended your services to her friend.”

“I moved a couch that’s-”

“Oh you’re Styles. Harry Styles.” Your voice saying his name makes his jaw clench because the way you sound like pieces to a puzzle only you can see are being put together in your mind makes him want to punch a wall out of pure frustration. Learning Monica is your friend means you probably already know everything and he can’t do anything about it, and the most annoying part is he doesn’t know why he cares, he doesn’t even know you.

“You’ve heard of him?” Cody asks as he walks into the living room towards the open box full of stuff Harry took a look at earlier and of course he’s the one who got you the cheap teddy bear, what an asshole.

“Not uhm anything bad I just have heard your name around before like at uh parties and-”

“And Monica?” Harry questions and again he swears he didn’t mean for it sound so harsh and accusatory, he just wanted to know if she told you anything about what went on between them and of course it comes out rude and snappy.

“She just told me you were nice and helpful that’s all.” You look extremely overwhelmed as you answer him and Harry knows it’s partially his fault so he just does what he thinks is best and gives you a small nod and goes to grab a box from the kitchen counter.

“What is all this shit?” You turn to give Cody your attention as he stands there going through the box of stuff. “Why would I want any of this? Is the bear I got you?”

“It’s everything you ever gave me I uh well-uhm didn’t know if you’d want it back?”

“You called me over here to give me a box of things that I gave you as gifts back to me? Are you serious?”

“I’m sorry I’ll just keep it then.” Harry can hear the uneasiness in your voice as Cody lets out a scoff as he grabs the box and brushes past you on his way to the door.

“You’ve always liked wasting my time.” Your shoulders slump as his harsh words hit you just as he reaches your door. “Delete my number.” Is the last thing he says before he walks through the open door and down the hallway towards the elevators.

One thing about Harry is he hasn’t ever had the best timing, he really thinks that’s the universe’s way of getting back at him for all the little wrongs he’s done in his life. So when he grabs the box off your counter he knows the moment he lifts it up that he’s going to drop it, not because it’s too heavy or because it’s not taped and securely closed but because just as he decides to lift it off the counter and take a step towards the door he allows his eyes to find you. Of course he would choose to look at you just as your asshole of an ex storms out of your apartment leaving you standing there looking like you’re one second away from breaking down, your eyes are big and your cheeks are pink from the embarrassment but it’s the way your hands are balled into little fists that tells Harry you’re trying to hold it together.

So in true Harry fashion that has to be the moment he lets a box slip out of his hold and land on the floor of your kitchen with a sound that has his eyes squeezing shut because he knows that was something glass that probably just broke. When he opens his eyes he lets out a sigh as he bends down to grab the box and he hates the sound it makes when he lifts it off the ground, but before he can take another step he sees your white shoes step in front of him making him pause his movements as he slowly lifts his eyes up from your feet to your face.

“Uhm did you just-”

“I didn’t do anything.” He wants to smack himself as soon as the words leave his mouth because you saw him drop the box, he knows you saw him drop the box and on the off chance you didn’t see it he knows you heard it.

“It’s okay it was just an accident.” Your voice is so soft and soothing it pisses him off because you should be yelling at him not reassuring him, especially after what he just saw and heard you have to deal with.

“It would be if something happened but nothing did. I’m just trying to finish getting your shit to the truck.” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice at this point because why is he still talking as if he didn’t drop your box right in front of you and if that’s not enough now he’s trying to act as if you’re holding him up from finishing his job, you’re going to hate him by the end of the morning he just knows it.

“Harry.” He lets out a sigh as his name falls from your lips just as he walks around you and towards the door. “It’s okay.” Harry doesn’t say anything as he’s suddenly surrounded by the familiar sunshine and flowers scent and then he feels you place a hand on his arm and he swears if he hadn’t already dropped the box in his hands he would’ve done it just then because the softness of your hand on his bare arm sends a weird kind of shockwave down to his fingertips. But he just adjusts his grip on the box and because he figures he’s already dug himself a decent grave he might as well make it a little deeper by acting like nothing happened as he walks out your front door and down the hallway.

“Shit shit shit.” He mumbles to himself after he places the box down by his feet along with the hat he had covering his hair once he makes it to the elevators and runs both hands through his hair as his heart starts pounding in his chest as if he just ran a marathon. “What the fuck is happening to me?” He asks himself as he tries to gain some sort of composure.

“You look like shit.” Niall states with a laugh as he steps off the elevator and gives Harry a once over, he glances down the hallway before looking back at Harry. “Please tell me the douchebag is gone.”

“Yeah yeah he’s-he’s gone.” His words come out breathy as if he’s still struggling to fully catch his breath and calm down. Niall gives Harry a weird look before he just shakes his head deciding it’s better to not ask, so instead he walks around him and down towards your apartment to grab the last two boxes.

“Get it together Harry. No more dropping boxes. You’re better than that. You’re a professional.” That’s as good of a pep talk he can muster at the moment before he grabs the box and steps into the elevator deciding he’s going to do everything in his power to avoid direct contact with you for the remainder of the hour and a half he has to spend moving your stuff.

[eveninglakehomeworld]

hi friends and lovers, I've gathered a small collection of dialogues from Zevran in DA:O regarding Antiva & the Crows.

I got this together mostly for myself, but thought I'd share in case anyone who is maybe looking to flesh out their new Crow OC, write fanfic involving Crow characters, or is looking for a refresher on early Crow lore would like something to reference. I trimmed down dialogues a bit, so mostly just information relevant to the Crows, Antiva in general, and Zevran's own attitudes about being an assassin are present.

this post has dialogues from Zev's recruitment event and a couple of early game camp conversations. because it's only a handful of dialogues, this is, ostensibly, part 1 of several. I plan to post more as I progress through my replay of origins. enjoy! <3

Recruitment

Warden: "What are the Antivan Crows?"

Leliana: I can tell you that. They are an order of assassins out of Antiva. Very powerful, and renowned for always getting the job done... so to speak. Someone went to great expense to hire this man.

Zevran: Quite right. I'm surprised you haven't heard much of the Crows out here. Back where I come from, we're rather infamous.

Warden: "You came all the way from Antiva?"

Zevran: Not precisely. I was in the neighborhood when the offer came. The Crows get around, you see.

[After being asked if he's loyal to Loghain]

Zevran: Beyond that, no, I'm not loyal to him. I was contracted to perform a service.

Warden: "And now that you've failed that service?"

Zevran: Well, that's between Loghain and the Crows. And between the Crows and myself.

Warden: "When were you to see him next?"

Zevran: I wasn't. If I had succeeded, I would have returned home and the Crows would have informed your Loghain of the results... if he didn't already know. If I had failed, I would be dead. Or I should be, at least, as far as the Crows are concerned. No need to see Loghain then.

Warden: "How much were you paid?"

Zevran: I wasn't paid anything. The Crows, however, were paid quite handsomely. Or so I understand. Which does make me about as poor as a chantry mouse, come to think of it. Being an Antivan Crow isn't for the ambitious, to be perfectly honest.

Warden: "Then why are you one?"

Zevran: Well, aside from a distinct lack of ambition, I suppose it's because I wasn't give much of a choice. The Crows bought me young. I was a bargain, too, or so I'm led to believe. But don't let my sad story influence you. The Crows aren't so bad. They keep one well supplied: Wine, women, men. Whatever you happen to fancy. Though, the whole severance package is garbage, let me tell you. If you were considering joining, I'd really think twice about it.

Warden: "Aren't you at least loyal to your employers?"

Zevran: Loyalty is an interesting concept. If you wish, and you're done interrogating me, we can discuss it further.

Warden: "I'm listening. Make it quick."

Zevran: Well, here's the thing. I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That's how it works. If you don't kill me, the Crows will. Thing is, I like living. And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So let me serve you, instead.

Warden: "And what's to stop you from finishing the job later?"

Zevran: To be completely honest, I was never given much of a choice regarding joining the Crows. They bought me on the slave market when I was a child. I think I've paid my worth back to them, plus tenfold. The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can't touch. Even if I did kill you now, they might kill me just on the principle of failing the first time. Honestly, I'd rather take my chances with you.

Warden: "Won't they come after you?"

Zevran: Possibly. I happen to know their wily ways, however. I can protect myself, as well as you. Not that you seem to need much help. And if not, well, it's not as if I had many alternatives to start with, is it?

Warden: "Why would I want your service?"

Zevran: Why? Because I am skilled at many things, from fighting to stealth and picking locks. I could also warn you should the Antivan Crows attempt something more... sophisticated... now that my attempts have failed.

A few early game camp conversations

Conversation 1 Warden: "What does it take to become an assassin?"

Zevran: Well, the Crows would have you believe that it is an involved process that takes years of training, the sort that tests both your resolve and your endurance. Survive that process and maybe, just maybe, you're good enough to start being considered one of them. But quite frankly the truth is that all it requires is a desire to kill people for a living. It's surprising how well one can do in such a field.

Warden: "It doesn't take any special skill?"

Zevran: I don't know about that. It's simply a slightly different skill set from your average killer, as I see it. An assassin simply specializes in striking from stealth... and in maximizing that first attack to be as lethal as possible. Debilitating your foe, either by poison or by crippling their limbs, makes any follow-up combat you need to engage in that much simpler.

Warden: "That sounds like it could be useful."

Zevran: See? Getting paid for the act is beside the point. An assassin is more a tactical choice than a lifestyle. Of course, the Crows like to pretend that their abilities are trade secrets, shrouded in shadows and wrapped in a blanket of mystery. So let's just keep this between you and me, shall we, hmm?

Conversation 2 Warden: "Why did you want to leave the Crows, exactly?"

Zevran: Well, now, I imagine that's a very fair question. Being an assassin, after all, is a living, at least as far as such things go. I was simply never given the opportunity to choose another way. So if that choice presents itself, why should I not seize upon it?

Warden: "You didn't choose the Crows?"

Zevran: Mm? To be truthful, I didn't even know the Crows existed when I joined them. I was but a boy of seven when I was purchased. For three sovereigns, I'm told. Which is a good price, considering I was all ribs and bone and didn't know the pommel of a dagger from the pointy end. The Crows buy all their assassins that way. Buy them young, raise them to know nothing else but murder. And if you do poorly in your training, you die.

Warden: "That sounds awful."

Zevran: "Oh, I don't know about that. The Crows who are actually good enough to survive come to enjoy some of the benefits. In Antiva, being a Crow gets you respect. It gets you wealth. It gets you women... and men, or whatever it is you might fancy. But that does mean doing what is expected of you, always. And it means being expendable. It's a cage, if a gilded cage. Pretty, but confining. [note: I transcribed the first line of the last section as it was written in the subtitles because it seemed to make more sense in context, but when Zevran speaks it aloud he actually says "That does not mean doing what is expected of you." presumably an editing error, but can't be 100% positive which is the intended message.]

[After being asked what he thinks his future might hold]

Zevran: As for what I'll do in the future... presuming that there is one... I truly can't imagine. It might be interesting to go into business for myself, for a change. Far away from Antiva, of course. For now, naturally, I go where you go.

Warden: "Won't the Crows eventually find you?"

Zevran: [laughs] Eventually can be a very, very long time if one plays one's cards right. Come, now. Enough chit-chat. Talking about the Crows summons them, you know. Any Antivan fishwife could tell you so.

Conversation 3 Warden: "Do you actually enjoy being an assassin?"

Zevran: And why not? There are many things to enjoy about being a Crow in Antiva. You are respected. You are feared. The authorities go out of their way to overlook your trespasses. Even the rewards are nothing to turn your nose up at. As for the killing part, well... some people simply need assassinating. Or do you disagree?

Warden: "You've never killed an innocent?"

Zevran: Now there's an interesting word, "innocent." How many men do you know who can claim to truly be innocent? But if you're talking generalities, such as children and relatives and bystanders and such... never on purpose, but it happens. It's unfortunate, but death comes to us all. If not me, then some wasting disease. Or a fall down the stairs. Or at the hands of a darkspawn. It's all relative in the end.

Warden: "I suppose that's true."

Zevran: "Death happens," as we like to say. And when I get paid for it, death happens more often. As far as enjoying the act of killing itself, why not? There is a certain artistry to the deed, the pleasure of sinking your blade into their flesh and knowing that their life is in your hands.

Warden: "I know what you mean."

Zevran: There are many things I did not enjoy about being a Crow, of course. Having no choice, being treated as an expendable commodity, the rules... oh, so many rules! But, simply being an assassin? I like it just fine. I will continue to do it, if I can, even if I am not a Crow. Honestly, could you picture me doing something else?

Conversation 4 [note: I trimmed this one down a lot bc it's just one of the ones where he tells you about a job and there's not a lot to be gleaned about Antiva, how the Crows operate, etc] [In response to being asked, "The Crows were willing to anger the Circle of Magi?"]

Zevran: In Antiva, nobody is too important to escape the reach of the Crows. They have killed kings and queens. That's simply how it is.

[After elaborating on how he fumbled an assassination attempt and the mark died accidentally, instead of by his hand]

Zevran: Then I found out she had told the driver to take her to Genellan instead. She has planned to lose me in the provinces. I would have looked very foolish to the Crows. As it was, my master was very impressed that I had done such a fine job of making it look like an accident. The Circle of Magi was unaware of foul play, and everyone was happier all around.

Conversation 5 Warden: "Tell me a little about Antiva."

Zevran: Oh? You wish to know about Antiva, do you? The only way to truly appreciate it would be to go there. It is a warm place, not cold and harsh like this Ferelden. In Antiva it rains often, but the flowers are always in bloom... or so the saying goes.

Warden: "Don't you want to go back?"

Zevran: [sighs] It is not really a matter of wanting to go back. I cannot go. At least not yet. I hail from the glorious Antiva City, home to the royal palace. It is a glittering gem amidst the sand, my Antiva City. Do you come from someplace comparable?

Warden: "I'm not from any glittering gem, no."

Zevran: No? That is too bad. If you were, then surely you would spend as much time boasting about it as I do! Hmm. You know what is most odd? We speak of my homeland, and for all its wine and its dark-haired beauties and the lillo flutes of the minstrels... I miss the leather the most.

Warden: "Is that some kind of euphemism?"

Zevran: [laughs] It may as well be! But not this once, no. I mean the smell. For years I lived in a tiny apartment near Antiva City's leather-making district, in a building where the Crows stored their youngest recruits. Packed in like crates. I grew accustomed to the stench, even though the humans complained of it constantly. To this day the smell of fresh leather is what reminds me most of home more than anything else.

Warden: "That's a little bizarre. There's leather everywhere."

Zevran: Ah, but it's not Antivan leather, is it? I do not know what the Antivan tanners do that is different, but ther is no leather more supple nor more fragrant.

Warden: "You sound like you've been away from home forever."

Zevran: Oh, not so long, I know. It is my first time away from Antiva, however, and the thought of never returning makes me think of it constantly. Before I left, I was tempted to spend what little coin I possessed on leather boots I spotted in a store window. Finest Antivan leather, perfect craftsmanship—ah, but I was a fool to leave them. I thought, "Ah, Zevran, you can buy them when you return as a reward from a job well done." More the fool I, no?

Warden: "Your home is still there, Zevran."

Zevran: True, and it's a comforting thought. One simply never knows what is to come next.

Now, if it is all the same to you, I would prefer not to speak more of Antiva. It makes me wistful and hungry for a proper meal.

Bonus banter snippet because I found it amusing:

Morrigan: You assassin types have a death wish, I see.

Zevran: [laughs] Only the really good ones.

[willowsnook]

back to each other

request from @heavierthnheavenly

lewis hamilton x rosberg reader

please don’t leave

——————————————-

“Happy 30th my sweet sister,” Nico yelled at you as everyone cheered while you blew out the candles.

“Thanks, Nico,” you replied, catching your breath. 30 was here, and honestly, you felt like this was the beginning of the rest of your life. You remember thinking back when you were 23 that life was going by so fast and that you needed to accomplish x y, and z, but now that you hit this new milestone, you realized how young you really were.

“What’d you wish for?” Your best friend asked from next to you. Before you could answer, Nico jumped in.

“Hopefully a husband so she can stop mooching off of me.”

“Hey,” you said pouting. “I gave you back your credit card last year.”

Nico and your friends laughed and you felt filled with love from the people surrounding you. You posted a cute picture of the cake to your Insta story and grabbed a glass of wine to drink with your friends. They were going through all the standout guys you had dated in your 20s.

“Remember that one guy from the US who was the hockey player?”

“Biz?” You asked, thinking back to when you briefly lived in NYC. You’d met him at an event you had planned for the Rangers and were immediately charmed. He was the life of the party; dumber than a rock, though.

“I think he was definitely the funniest guy you’ve ever dated,” Nico said. Nico had met him once and was fascinated by the way he talked. The Canadian accent mixed with that hockey slang was like an alien language to your brother.

“Until he couldn’t keep it in his pants,” you reminded everyone. It was never serious between the two of you so you weren’t that heartbroken at the time, just mildly irritated.

“You need an older man,” your friend said and everyone nodded their heads in agreement. Your phone buzzed against your thigh and your eyebrows furrowed while looking at the notification.

“Speaking of older men, guess who just slid up on my story?”

“Who?” Your brother asked.

“Lewis,” you said, slightly confused. “He said ‘happy birthday sunshine, hope you had a day filled with those you love.’”

“I didn’t know you guys talked,” Nico said, trying to keep his voice casual.

“We don’t,” you said reassuring your brother. “Nothing more than pleasantries when I see him at races.”

While Lewis and Nico had mostly mended their relationship, it was still a sore subject in the family. It was a long time ago but you remember how he went from being someone that was like an older brother to you to someone whose name was forbidden to speak. Now when you saw him it was slightly awkward for you at least. You could tell he always wanted to speak more but you came up with any excuse to cut a conversation short.

“He’s just being friendly,” you said, pushing it to the back of your mind.

——————————————————

The last two weeks of your January were spent in Italy, and you really wished you could have been here in the summer instead, but duty calls. Working for an event marketing agency, you had garnered quite the reputation in your 8 years working for them and were now in charge of a lot of VIP events.

Ferrari had hired your firm to plan their season kickoff party and you had been ran ragged the past couple of months putting things together. You flew out 2 weeks in advance to be on the ground for finishing touches and you were proud of what your team accomplished. It was lavish.

Donning a floor length, black dress, you grabbed a champagne flute off a passing waiter, eyes scanning the room. Because of your seniority, you weren’t necessarily in charge of anything day of, but you couldn’t help but keep an eye out on how things were going.

The main ceremony went on without a hitch, people enjoyed their dinners, and now a DJ started a set for those who wanted to stay late and party. You made one last round, checking on your staff that was here before heading to the coat check. While waiting for the woman to retrieve your coat, you felt someone come up very close next to you.

“Leaving already?” Lewis asked, and you turned to take him in. He was wearing a fitted suit, the color of his new team, and a small smile.

“Yeah, my team has it under control,” you responded politely before turning to grab the coat.

“Please don’t leave,” he said, surprising you. “You always leave when I try to talk to you.”

“You know why,” you responded quietly and his eyes softened.

“That was a long time ago,” he murmured. “One drink.”

“Okay,” you said giving in. He still had the same effect on you that he did when you were 13 and hopelessly in love with your brother’s best friend. The need to please him still existed deep in your soul, even though you had tried to push it down. Nico wasn’t the only heart that Lewis had broken, intentional or not.

His hand rested on your lower back as you let yourself be guided back into the event with him and to the bar. You ordered a glass of wine and could feel the weight of his stare on the side of your face. Turning to look at him, he still didn’t say anything, it was like he was memorizing every inch of your face.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said and you blushed, looking away.

“Thank you, Lewis,” you said back, voice wavering. You cursed yourself internally for still letting him have this effect on you.

“How long are you in Italy?” He asked.

“Just a couple more days, then back to London,” you told him and he tilted his head, thinking.

“Can I take you out?”

You stared at him dumbfounded, a small smirk working it’s way onto his face.

“Like on a date?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” You asked and he chuckled.

“I want to spend time with you,” he said, simply.

“I think the last time we hung out one on one, I had just turned 21,” you said, reminiscing.

Something had shifted back then when you had reached your 20s. Lewis had started to look at you in a different way. Suddenly you weren’t his friend’s little sister anymore, you were a grown, beautiful woman. You had danced the line with him between being friends and something more that season, but as his and your brother’s relationship quickly deteriorated you stepped back.

“Those were good times,” Lewis said. “Sometimes I think about what would have happened between us if things had gone differently at Mercedes.”

His admission made your body heat up and the way he was looking at you didn’t help.

“Too late now,” you whispered and he shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “I’ll pick you up from your hotel tomorrow afternoon.”

—————————————————————————

Lewis had texted you in the morning to wear something warm but casual so you picked out a soft white sweater to pair with jeans. After getting ready, you called the person that you needed to tell about this so that you could feel at ease.

“Hey y/n, what’s up? How was the event last night?” Nico said over the phone.

“It was good, everything went accordingly,” you replied nervous. “I talked with Lewis for a bit.”

The phone was silent and you sighed.

“That’s nice.” Your brother said tightly.

“He asked me to hang out while we’re both here,” you said quietly.

“Are you going to go?” He asked.

“If you don’t want me to Nico just say the word and I will cancel and we don’t have to ever discuss it again.”

The phone was quiet for a bit before he spoke again, “do you want to go out with him?”

“I don’t know,” you said sighing. “It’s complicated. I still remember what it felt like back then, and I haven’t had that feeling with any guy since. But then everything happened and it’s been almost ten years so I don’t know.”

“I don’t want you to put my feelings above your own happiness,” Nico said and you felt your eyes well up with tears. “Me and him are good okay? If you want to see where it goes, I’ll support you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I love you,” he said.

“I love you too, I’ll talk to you later.”

By the time you collected yourself, Lewis had texted that he was waiting outside so you headed down to meet him. He was standing outside his car, in a Tommy sweater, shades covering his eyes. His lips turned upwards as he saw you and he greeted you with a tight hug, kissing your cheek softly.

“Beautiful, as always,” he complimented and you smiled softly at him, blush filling your cheeks. He helped you into the car and you waited for him to get in.

“I thought maybe we could walk around the city and check out one of the art museums,” he suggested and you nodded. The car ride to downtown was quiet, soft music playing in the background as you stared out the window.

Cold air stung your face as you got out of the car but you didn’t mind, you loved the cold. You and Lewis started walking and small chatter took over the silence between the two of you. You told him about everywhere your job had taken you and what London was like now. He told you about some of the brand partnerships he was working on and how hard the last two seasons at Mercedes had been.

As you walked through the streets of Milan, you felt yourself relaxing more in Lewis' presence. His warm smile and easy conversation reminded you of the close friendship you used to have years ago, before everything got complicated.

"I've missed this," Lewis said softly as you strolled side by side. "Just talking with you, being around you."

You glanced at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. "I've missed it too," you admitted.

Reaching the art museum, you spent the next couple hours wandering through the exhibits together. Lewis was surprisingly knowledgeable about art history, and you found yourself engrossed in discussions about various paintings and sculptures.

As you exited the museum, the sky had darkened and a light snow was falling. Lewis gently took your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. The gesture felt so natural, so right, that you didn't pull away.

“Why now, after all this time?" You blurted out.

Lewis was quiet for a moment before responding. "I've done a lot of reflecting lately. On my career, my relationships, the things that truly matter. And I realized that one of my biggest regrets was letting you slip away without ever exploring what could have been between us."

His words made your heart skip a beat. You'd tried so hard over the years to push down your feelings for Lewis, convincing yourself it was just a convenient crush.

“Lewis…,” you started but he cut you off.

“I want to try, y/n,” he said. “We can take things slow but I need to try.”

“Okay,” you whispered and he grinned.

————————————————————-

The next couple of weeks were spent texting each other back and forth; Lewis showered you with gifts sent to your London apartment: flowers, chocolate, food, and a paddock pass for the beginning of the season testing.

You ended up flying to Bahrain with Nico who had to be there for work and you could tell that he was still uneasy about what was growing between you and Lewis so you really didn’t bring it up.

Lewis was already at the track when you arrived, so you didn’t get to see him until the following day, which was fine by you. You needed a moment to calm your nerves and take in the environment. Anytime you had been at a race, it had been with a Mercedes pass around your neck, so Ferrari's red was a weird change. You ended up arriving at the same time as Charles Leclerc, whom you had met a handful of times over the years.

“Y/n, good to see you!” He exclaimed, eyes lighting up. “Here with Nico?”

“Lewis invited me actually,” you said and his eyes widened with surprise. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he said smirking. “How does your brother feel about that?”

You shrugged, “He’s trying.”

Charles nodded and fell in step beside you, insisting you find him to meet his girlfriend, Alex, later on. When you reached the garage, you saw Lewis already in his element, arms crossed, talking to an engineer while looking over the car. Hearing Charles talking, he turned his head and a smile broke out when he saw you.

“Hi love,” he said as he got closer to you.

“Hi Lewis,” you replied, reaching your arms around his shoulders. His own arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “Ready for today?”

“Of course,” he said pulling back and smiling at you. “I’ve done this a couple of times now.

“Mmhmm, only a couple right?” You teased and he chuckled.

He led you over to near his car, finding a spot for you against the wall.

“I want you right here,” he instructed. “This way you are the first thing I see when I get back out.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “such a charmer you are.”

“Only for you,” he teased back and you flushed. “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

Testing was testing, and Lewis looked good to you; the team seemed happy in the garage, so you took that as a good sign. Sure enough, you were the first thing Lewis saw as he got out of the car.

“I have a bunch of meetings for the rest of the day, but I’d love if you’d join me for dinner with the team,” he said and you nodded, agreeing to meet him later. You left the garage to find your brother who was on a break from being on air.

“He looked good,” Nico said. “Weird seeing him in that car though.”

“I know, I really thought he’d never leave,” you said.

You and Nico chatted for a while longer about the day's testing before he had to get back to work. As you wandered through the paddock, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness about dinner with Lewis and the Ferrari team later.

When evening came, you made your way to the restaurant where the team dinner was being held. As you approached, you saw Lewis waiting outside for you, looking handsome in a typical stylish Lewis Hamilton fit.

"There you are," he said warmly, pulling you into a hug. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," you replied, smoothing down your dress. "I hope I'm not overdressed."

"Not at all," Lewis assured you. "Come on, let's head inside."

As you entered the restaurant, you were greeted by the lively chatter of the Ferrari team. Lewis kept his hand on the small of your back, making sure you stayed close to his side. He let you pick where to sit and you sat across from Charles and his girlfriend.

The two of you hit it off, chatting throughout dinner with Charles chiming in or talking to someone else. Lewis was always quieter in big groups, so you were used to him silently observing. His hand rested on your thigh as he relaxed, gently tracing your skin.

Eventually, you got up to use the restroom, Alex following you.

“So how long have you guys been together?” She asked as you were touching up your lipgloss in the mirror.

“Oh we aren’t,” you replied to her surprise. “We are seeing where things go.”

She bit her lip, looking at you with a smile on her face.

“The way he looks at you,” she started and you met her eyes in the mirror. “It’s like no one else is there. Only you.”

You smiled to yourself thinking of that look you had caught on his face a couple of times tonight.

“I guess so,” you muttered lightly and she squeezed your hand.

Something shifted in you as you walked back to the table and you really looked at him as he lit back up at your arrival.

As you sat back down next to Lewis, you felt a warmth spread through your chest. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled at you, the gentle pressure of his hand as it found its way back to your thigh - it all felt so right. You found yourself leaning into him slightly, drawn to his presence.

The rest of the dinner flew by in a blur of laughter and conversation. As people started to filter out, Lewis turned to you.

"Want to take a walk?" he asked softly. You nodded, standing up and saying your goodbyes to the remaining team members.

The night air was cool as you stepped outside, and Lewis immediately wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You walked in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other's company.

"I'm really glad you came," Lewis said eventually, breaking the quiet. "It means a lot to have you with me.”

You smiled up at him, feeling a flutter in your chest. "I'm glad I came too. It's been nice spending time with you again."

Lewis stopped walking and turned to face you, his eyes intense. "Y/n, I know we said we'd take things slow, but I can't help how I feel. Being with you these past few weeks, it's like no time has passed at all. All those old feelings are right there on the surface."

Your breath caught in your throat as he gently cupped your face with his hands. "I'm falling for you all over again," he murmured. "And this time, I don't want to let you go."

Your heart was pounding as you gazed into his eyes. All the reasons you had pushed him away before seemed to fade away. This felt right. It felt like coming home.

"Lewis," you whispered, "I think I'm falling back in love with you.”

Instead of responding with words, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You melted into the kiss, moving your lips slowly against his as he held you close to his body.

“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he murmured and you smiled softly at him. Holding his hand in yours as you walked back to the hotel. Love finds a way.

[holylulusworld]

Their Bride (Snippet 1) - Kinktober 28

Summary: You always dreamed of letting your dirtiest fantasies become reality. Your men made your dream come reality.

Pairing: fem!Reader x Nick Fowler, Ari Levinson, Lloyd Hansen, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Warnings: mentions past consensual non-con/dub-con roleplay, kidnapping, multiple partners,  mentions of sex tape, mentions of callboys/prostitution

Trope: Post-coitus moment

A/N:  A short follow up to: Best bridesmaid ever

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

“Just relax, lean back, and enjoy how we dismantle your ex.”

Lean back and relax, Ari said, while you tried to wrap your head around the situation. Not moments before they revealed their true identities, you believed your bridesmaid and best friend hired the most handsome and best callboys walking on earth.

The fulfillment of your secret desires still lingered in the back of your mind. Memories flashed up, bringing back every moment of desire and lust.

Did their true identity change your desire for them after all of them gave you what your body and mind were craving? You pondered when Ari stepped back inside the room to hand you a cup of your favorite tea.

“I can see the wheels in your head spinning,” he said, sitting opposite you in an old armchair, while you watched him with curiosity. This man did unspeakable things to you and your body but looked almost shy when you stared at him. “We never said that we are callboys, sweetness. You gave in to our demands so easily; we just went with the flow. At first, we only wanted to scare you a little and fuck with your finance’s mind.”

“What?” You gaped at Ari. Did he just make it sound like they didn’t lie to you? “You made me believe you’re the callboys my friend hired.”

“Baby cakes, do you honestly believe guys like us offered their dicks for money?” Lloyd chuckles as you try to not throw the cup of tea at him. “My meat is a filet mignon, not a cheap burger.”

“Hansen, you’re not helpful. Not at all,” Ari grunted. “We should explain our plan to her. Y/N is not a pretty doll you can use and put in a corner.”

“Oh, Levinson,” Lloyd plopped down on the couch next to you. “I won’t ever put my muffin into a corner. I’ll make her scream my name any time of the day.” His hand crept up the nightgown they offered you this morning, one of many designer clothes they got for you. “Right, sunshine. You loved it when I got down on you to tickle your clit with my mustache.”

“Lloyd!” Steve snapped at the man next to you. “We wanted to talk, not bend her over the couch too. Let’s finish her ex-fiancé off before we get to her naughty cunt again.”

“Doll, are we having a party?” Bucky strolled into the room, Nick hot on his heels. They sipped at their coffee while undressing you with their eyes. Similar eyes, turning you into a puddle of goo whenever they look at you. “What do you want me to do to you today?”

“Get your shit together. No sex this morning. If we want to hit Walker hard and fast, we must do it now. Let’s give him a taste of his own medicine. I want him to suffer through every scream and moan we forced out of his lovely fiancé.”

You watched Ari take over the lead. He wildly gestured while talking, making you whimper more than once. You barely listened to what he had to say. These five men fulfilled your darkest desires and offered a new life to you within the same heartbeat.

How could you ever go back to a normal life? What would you tell anyone? That you let these five men, members of the mob on top of all, do unspeakable things to you?

You’re ruined in more than one way.

“How about you enjoy the show, cupcake?” Lloyd said, and wrapped one arm around your shoulders. “Later, you can enjoy more of me. Let’s sneak out and do it outside like the animals.”

“Lloyd!” Steve snapped his fingers in Lloyd’s face. He was done with Lloyd’s endless appetite for you and the noises you made for the mustache-wearing bastard. “Stop thinking with your dick for once, will ya.”

“Let us have our fun. We already fucked Walker over by fucking his lovely bride. He still thinks she’s going to marry him. How about you stab him in the back and twist the knife?”

“I prepared everything,” a new face stepped into the room. A cocky guy with glasses and spiky dark blonde hair. He was wearing a pink shirt with an imprint saying go petunias.

You would’ve giggled at his outfit, but he switched a large monitor on and talked about hacking into John’s system and other things you don’t understand.

“Alright,” he said. “A livestream would’ve been much funnier, but this will do too.” He dipped his head to look your way. His cheeks turned red, and he gasped loudly. “Oh, she’s here.”

“Stop staring at our girl,” Nick warned before pointing his index finger at him. “Get the job done. We don’t have all day.”

“Name’s Jake,” he said, instead of doing his job. He flashed you a smile, making you giggle. You could imagine turning him into your sweet puppy. A stark contrast to the roughness your other men provide.

“Jensen, do your job!” Ari barked at Jake. “I want results, and I want them now!”

“Here we go,” Jake said. He typed away on the keyboard, starting a countdown. You watched John on the monitor. His phone rang, and he got a message to switch his laptop on.

John sat down on his expensive leather chair and switched the laptop on. Jake immediately took control of the laptop, easily hacking into the computer.

Moments later, you could hear the scene you remembered so well unfold once again. Your moans and the men barking orders at you filled your ears as John grabbed his laptop to smash it against the wall.

“Hah, as if this would stop me!” Jake snickered. “Let’s drive him insane.”

Next: Playing with their bride

Tags in reblog.

[ginsengkitten]

☆ Hint by ginsengkitten ☆

☆ Slash One - Shot

☆ A/N: giggling and kicking my legs

☆ Synopsis

Current Slash starts taking favor of his young new assistant.

☆ Tags: heavy smut, age gap, daddy k!nk, size k!nk, fluff, praise

☆

At some point, the agency had contracted you out as an assistant for Slash. It was rumored that he had selected you specifically by his own request. It was a big job for you, but you admit you were such a fan of GNR, so you accepted graciously at the opportunity. You were young and new to the industry, but committed to doing your best! It ended up not being too difficult really. His primary Manager had delegated to you some basic duties like scheduling, errands and random loose ends type of things, and the rest of the time was usually free to hang around. You’d met Slash briefly when you were hired, but for the most part he remained a hidden figure behind the curtain with a few brief meetings.

He was preparing to release a new solo album, so things were a bit crazy recently. Maybe that’s why he had requested your assistance more and more. He’d specifically ask you for things that his primary manager could have done. Small things but in a closer vicinity to him. Getting coffee, organizing, etc. Rumors began to spill of favoritism. Soon, wherever slash was, you also followed behind. Paparazzi also began to take notice. Due to the large age gap, rumors spanned from you being his “daughter from secret affair?” Or even londons girlfriend. It was no secret that Slash had taken favor of you. You didn’t mind one bit. Plus, you always had found older men attractive, and he was no exception. It definitely made the job easier. However, conversations and interactions remained a professional surface level. Well, except for the time he accidentally brushed up behind you in the tour bus. Simple mistake. Or the time you caught him staring at your legs when you wore a skirt to work for the first time. Also a simple mistake. No need to make a fuss. Any attention from him was preferable honestly. You became addicted to it. -

The conference room was stuffy and full of the usual music heads and managers. Briefing Slash on certain agenda items for his album release, metrics, things of that boring nature. You sat in your usual seat, the seat that one day, suddenly had your name written on a place card on it. And everyone knew it to be your spot. Coincidentally the spot was directly across from Slash’s usual seat as well. Giving each-other a perfectly clear view of one another. Your seat was a high sitting directors chair in the corner of the room. It lifted you high up off the floor, almost like a pedestal. You’d sit every meeting there and take your notes as instructed. Almost like a trophy he was showing off. One time- a guest had mistakenly sat there before you, and Slash, with his rockstar power, declined to begin the meeting until you had your seat back, and made the guest switch with you. And then he’d watch you. The entire meeting. Glances and gazes over at you. He’d appear so concentrated on the meeting but you could always see him looking at you in between words. You secretly loved feeling his eyes on you. Watching you like a Hawk.

-

It was a busy week, and finally the weekend. You’d wrap up items around the house and prepare for Slash to come home and then normally, you’d take off before he got there. When it would be a few days before you’d see him again, you began playing a little game. You would leave small hints of yourself around his bedroom for him to find. One time it was your necklace on his dresser, then another was a spritz of your perfume on his pillow. Your lipstick on his bathroom countertop. He had caught on but never addressed it or asked you to stop. So you didn’t. A continuing tension between the two of you would rise. Each conversation still seemingly so surface level. Never very long or un work related really.

You were just finishing up things and decided to leave your hint in his closet. You loved this playful game you’d invented and he did too. You couldn’t think of anything to leave as the hint this time. Shoot. Then a wild idea struck you and you grinned devilishly at the thought. Would it be too far? Too risky? It could cost you your job. But fuck it would be so good! You knew it would be. You decided to risk it.

-

The next day on your day off, your manager called you and asked if you could run into work. Said it was an emergency, and Slash had requested you. Shit Shit Shit. You second guess everything. Fuck- okay well, this is it then. End of your career.

You dolled yourself up as you always did. You did your typical Barrettes in your hair. And the usual skirt and blouse. Nothing crazy.

You entered slashes house. Closing the large door behind you as you slipped in. It was quiet. You could smell the cigarette smoke from upstairs. You took your usual route around and then made your way to his office in the den.

“Knock Knock.” You nervously poked your head into the office. Slash was sitting at his large desk, that he himself made seem tiny from his own stocky and built up stature. “Hi Y/N” He greeted you politely enough. “You wanted to see me….?” You continue nervously. “Yeah, I did. Why don’t you come in here doll.” He requested. The nickname gave your heart a little flutter. You obeyed and stepped in fully. His eyes instantly scanning your body up and down. Glued to you. So unapologetically gazing at you like a piece of meat. “W-what’s up?” You ask. “Come over here sweetheart.” He commands with the beckon of his large, ringed fingers. You obey and join him behind his desk. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out your hint.

The black lace panties you had worn yesterday, you had hid them in his jacket pocket. The jacket you knew he would be wearing to a meeting earlier this morning. “I believe you left something of yours.” He says. Your stomach drops. “I-I oh my god I’m so sorry I -“ you start to scramble but he suddenly reaches out and pulls you closer to him with his large hand around your waist. You stood in between his spread legs. “Shhh doll. You can be loud later.” He says. Wait what? You start to blush. He traces your face and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear gently. “My pretty girl….” He whispers in a trance as he eyes you. Your heart thumping wildly.

Your legs weak with desire and adrenaline as you stare back at him with Bambi eyes. He patted his lap, ushering you up. You pause for just a moment. “Come here baby. Come to Daddy.” He coos and pulls you up onto his lap in a straddle. Instantly you feel his hardness pressing up onto your panties under your skirt. His large hands cup your ass under your skirt and start toying with your hemline from behind. “Am I…in trouble?” You ask earnestly. He chuckles low and heavy. “Well, there has to be some repercussion doll..” he says as suddenly he lifts up your skirt and lays a hard smack on your ass cheek. The metal rings increasing the impact. You let out a gasp of pain and feel him bulge under you. He smiles devilishly at your pain. You’re too stunned to speak but really don’t have much to say except that you don’t want this to stop. He cradles your neck in his hand and pulls you to his land plants his lips on yours. You immediately reciprocate.

Things get sloppy and heavy quickly. You connect with wet passionate kisses. Months of tension and craving unleashed. You grind your hips into him and rub yourself on his hardened bulge. He lets out a pleasured grunt and you a series of soft moans. It feels so good you just want more but he stops you. “Be a good girl for daddy and get on your knees.” He commands. You happily comply and slip down to the floor in between his open legs. He unzips his jeans and releases his thick hard cock. He gives it a few pumps as he looks at you. “Such a pretty girl down on her knees for me huh?” He coos. He smacks your face lightly with his reddened bulging dick and you open your mouth for him to enter. He slips inside your mouth and fills it completely to the throat as he lets out a long groan. “Fuck sweetie.” He instantly grabs a fistful of your hair and starts face fucking you to the point that tears well in the corners of your eyes but you don’t wish to stop. He watches you through repeated loud scratchy moans. “That’s a good girl, that’s my pretty girl.” He huffs.

After choking, he drags your head off of him in strings of spit. “You’re my pretty girl aren’t you? You’re just for me.” He coos down at your disheveled state as you pant for air. He helps you up onto your feet, only briefly before pick you up effortlessly and place you on the desk. He leans in and kisses you again, forcing your legs to open with him standing between. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you doll.” He whispers in between wet sloppy kisses. Goosebumps run throughout your body like wildfire. “Really?” You ask in disbelief. “I knew it from the moment I chose you. My doll. My perfect doll.” He cooed again cradling your face roughly in his big hands.

His stature towered over you. He traced his fingers up your skirt along your thighs. You felt the cold metal of his rings along your skin. He thumbed your clit through your panties. “This is mine too.” He whispered, as you feel a finger slide into you. A moan escaped your mouth. “So wet for me already sweetness?” He held the back of your neck as he pumped two fingers into your pussy. He let out of soft groans of pleasure and satisfaction just from pleasing you. “I think its time to make you mine little doll.” He pulls out of you.

The two of you make your way - one clothing item falling to the floor with each step, onto the large pillowy sofa by the fireplace in the den. He throws you down onto the sofa. He towers over you, his eyes eat up your naked body as he gives his cock a few strokes. “Open those legs for me.” He travels his big calloused hands up your chest as he pushes into you. You both moan in unison. “Fuck you’re a tight little minx aren’t you?” He groans huskily. He swiftly starts pumping into you mercilessly. His size filling up your entire abdomen. You let out yelps of pain mixed with utter pleasure with each thrust. He smirks at each noise you make. “That’s my good girl, taking it all in that tight pussy. You’re doing so good doll.” He coos out.

Sweat beading on his brow as his dark gorgeous curls bounced around his face into yours. “You’re mine now. Mine.” Sweat beading down his happy trail and up his muscular, thick body. His grip on you was tight as he pounded stars into you. “That pretty body. You’re mine sweetness.” He said as he bit into your neck greedily sucking on your skin. More pain with more pleasure. His massive stature overpowered you and you felt like you might break in two if he wasn’t careful. Knots were tying in your tummy as the pleasure increased. “Oh fuck Slash-feels so-fucking good.” You moan. “P-please don’t stop.” You whimper out.

Your desperate whimpers leave him smirking, sending him to the edge as you came to it as well. “I-I’m gonna-“ “Cum for me sweet girl, my little minx, cum for daddy.” He encouraged. He had you seeing stars as you rode out your orgasm on his cock. Your walls tighten around his cock which sends him over.” Oh that’s it, that’s daddy’s good girl. I’m gonna fill you with my cum now doll.” With quick hastened thrusts you feel his warm cum flood your walls. The two of you panting as he leaves you. He kisses you and pats your hair tenderly. “You did so good. My perfect pretty doll.” His obsession with you was so magnetic and addicting. “I didn’t know you liked older men so much Y/N.” Slash smirked teasingly. You blush incessantly.

“I’m going to take such good care of you doll. You just wait. You’re mine now, all mine.”

[solarmorrigan]

Steve and Robin are going to need new jobs after spring break because, let's face it, they left the video store in the middle of their shifts and just never came back. That's kind of a fireable offense

They see one of the local diners is hiring both cooks and servers, so off they go to apply. The manager assumes Robin is there for a waitress position and Steve is there to be a cook

This is not so

You think Robin can stack dishes up her arms and carry them around like that? You think she can balance an entire tray of glass on one shoulder and weave around other servers and tables and not drop anything? You think she wants to pretend to be interested in people's inane small talk and put up with men flirting with her so she can get a good tip? Absolutely not, she's here to be a cook

Meanwhile, Steve thrives on other people. He doesn't want to be stuck in the back getting sweaty and covered in grease from the grill (that would be hell on his skin, honestly). Besides, his balance is excellent, he has zero trouble lifting heavy trays, and he's great at pretending to be interested in small talk and flirting with people. He's here to be a server

The manager doesn't really have any better prospects, so even with Steve and Robin's suspiciously vague "resignation" from Family Video, they're hired

The uniform for the cooks is basically just jeans and a clean t-shirt, and Robin kind of loves it. She likes dressing up sometimes, but under her terms; she doesn't want to be expected to do it, and she enjoys the lack of expectations placed on her appearance when she's just here to sling burgers and pancakes

The uniform for servers (well, the uniform for the waitresses, because up to this point the diner has been the kind that has sassy, middle-aged women as servers almost exclusively) is a collared, short-sleeve shirt and a good black skirt (or pair of slacks). Also a frilly half-apron

The manager, awkwardly holding the apron up for Steve: I'm sure we can find you something a little less...

Steve, already tying the apron on: I've worn worse things

(They never bother finding him another apron. He rocks it)

The other servers are a little suspicious of Steve at first, but they eventually become his number one fans. He's a hard worker when he wants to be, he'll carry anything for anyone with only an amusing amount of complaining, and he gladly takes the tables with creeps who come in and make the waitresses uncomfortable

The cooks (all men, because that’s how it works, isn’t it) didn't think Robin would be able to keep up with them at first, but damn if they don't come around real quick. She has no problem yelling when she needs something, she has damn pointy elbows that she will employ if someone gets in her way, and finally—finally!—someone has skinny enough arms to reach in and clean the spaces they usually have to pull stuff out to get to

She absolutely extorts favors out of the other cooks in exchange for reaching into these tiny spaces. Is cleaning the kitchen already part of her job? Yes. Does this stop her? No.

No one who works at the diner ever once thought Steve and Robin were dating. They applied together, they take as many shifts as possible together, they have no problem invading one another's personal space, but the first time everyone sees Robin yelling at Steve through the window for NOT TELLING HER HE HAS A PARTY OF EIGHT, DOES HE THINK SHE'S GODDAMN MAGIC and Steve yelling back that maybe he'd have remembered to do that if he hadn't been busy looking for the side of pancakes THAT HE'S STILL MISSING, BY THE WAY, ROBIN, they're all like ...Oh. Siblings. Okay.

If any of the other servers have lingering doubts about Steve’s character, they only have to see him the first time the kids come and invade the diner. They request Steve as their server, and he huffs and he rolls his eyes and he tells them that, no, they are not ordering all of that, but he gets them every damn thing they ask for anyway, remembers to modify some of their orders because Dustin doesn't like pickles on his burger and Mike likes extra salt on his fries, and he smiles while the kids bicker and laugh over their food when he thinks no one can see him

And Robin complains about all the special orders, but she comes out to say hello when she's done cooking it all, and she glows when they tell her how good the food is