#prejudice is nowhere to be found

[hana-no-seiiki]

cat villain reader my beloved. I'm so obsessed with it already. Please tell us more.

HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHA THEY ASKED FOR IT SO YOU CANT BLAME ME NOW F-

@sophiethewitch1 hi here’s your daily schizophrenic voice giving you even more mental illness

another short one cause im still lazy asf

I feel like a broken record just playing different flavors of the same oc/reader on my blog with the batfam i swear

tim is the only batfam member who figured out your identity prior to your own snooping

mostly because bruce’s identity was already aired out to your by selina and damian being his blood born son + appearing out of nowhere was a given.

as such it provided a lot of interesting scenarios

such as that one week where you were extremely active in your heists. like more so than the usual which was already a lot.

of course, you always tried to keep a sense of mystery as your cat villain self so asking you as robin wouldn’t have worked

so tim decided to approach you in class ( you were his senior or maybe even a young, fresh out of uni prof) and ask you why you seemed so…different or frantic lately

“oh. am i?” tim narrowed his eyes. it was so you to answer with another question, even as a civilian.

“sorry, i’m just really excited about this new limited edition robin figure of the new guy in the suit and—“

you proceeded to go on a ramble about your headcannons of the dude, saying how different and/or similar he was to robins of the past and ofc how much you admired him

this leads to his eventual downward spiral into depravation and horny

oh and unrelated to the boys, my headcannons for reader’s powers are as follows (mostly inspired from cat related cartoon characters)

invisibility/teleportation (from kitty chesire)

and cataclysm (from chat noir)

okay back to the boys

you and jason definitely had the biggest enemies to lovers arc out of everyone

like next to dick and damian, jason and you definitely hated each other’s guts

at that time you were dating dick and wanted him to stay as robin. pretty much in denial and anger, which led to you lashing out on jason.

at that time you still had hope for batman’s parenting skills and wanted jason to not take the opportunity he was given for granted

eventually you two found a lot in common and after a lot of deliberating and losing your mind with thoughts of “what ifs” and “but what about”s you broke it off with dick to pursue him

only to find out that jason was killed

people that knew you say you moved on pretty quickly. as if he was no more than a passing thought in your pretty little head.

but people like selina knew that out of everyone on this planet, the incident broke you the most

turning you into this near-empty husk, an imitation of what you were like

only filled with fear and anxiety

you would hurt people more, be more reckless

and boy do these men like playing savior to the fallen like you.

EXTRA:

i absolutely believe that as soon as you found out red hood was jason you two boned. like literally on whatever street/alleyway/battle you guys were in

emotions were high

and you two definitely cried the whole time im not sorry-

also you two always quote pride and prejudice lines at eachother

went from rabid dog that bit you several times to your goodest boy fr fr

[mllemaenad]

Listening to Wyll's backstory in context of all the details we're acquiring on devil's contracts and soul selling is fascinating.

See - I listened to Lann Tarv's three tales to get my soul coins. I felt bad for making Karlach listen to that, obviously, but to be honest I didn't even want the coins that much. I actually wanted the stories. I wanted a better understanding of how this works.

And what I'm learning is - for the gods (and godlike beings) of this world, cruelty seems to be the point. I mean - it's possible there's a god in this world I wouldn't want to stab to death with a rusty fork, but if so I have not met them yet.

These beings have the power to save people and places, to change lives, to do anything. And when someone asks them to - they demand a terrible price. But they don't just demand a price. They subvert the original request in such a way that they utterly fail to deliver on the original promise.

An abused woman wishes to be loved - and her true love appears, but dies instantly. A man wishes to save his children from starvation, and ends up personally growing masses of meat on his own body - not only painful for him, but forcing his children into survival cannibalism, which they were trying to avoid.

Auntie Ethel works the same way. Every one of her customers is left in a tortured state, while Ethel still takes her payment.

The idea is that the person must come to regret their wish long before the payment comes due. Every cry for help must be met with a boot to the face. Or else the mortals will get uppity? Or something.

What is interesting is how consciously Wyll defies that. And how much Mizora is dancing around, trying to force him into that state of miserable regret.

Wyll was manipulated into selling his soul. He was a kid, and he was summoned into a terrible situation - and in that moment, he could see no other way to save the city. Mizora did need to save Baldur's Gate to serve her boss's purposes, so she couldn't take that victory from him - but she did everything she could to take the joy of it.

He didn't get respect, or admiration, or his father's pride for saving the city. He lost his home and his family. He was assumed to have done something monstrous because he was denied an opportunity to defend himself.

That was supposed to fill him with bitterness and regret - but he got to work building his own life instead. By the time you run into him, the Blade of Frontiers is a hero of some renown. He's remade himself, and found a way to enjoy what his powers can do, however he came by them.

So that didn't work.

Then Mizora sent him after Karlach, and that was a mission tailored to break him. Karlach is kind and heroic herself, and that the start she has been sold into slavery, mutilated and forced to fight in a war against her will. If Wyll killed her, and then found out who she really was, then he betrayed everything the Blade of Frontiers is supposed to stand for - and he would lose the life he made for himself.

But he didn't, and that didn't work either. He's got a friend, now, who at least knows part of what he's dealing with.

So Mizora gave him demonic features. That would destroy the life he's made for himself, because no one would trust him to help them.

Except now Wyll basically goes nowhere on his own, and a small army of people can attest that he got those horns and eyes as punishment for being a good man. Mizora might be able to shut his mouth, but she can't silence his friends - and the group absolutely have shouting sessions about everything. Wyll's horns become a battle scar, like his missing eye, and nothing more.

And beyond that, if you are playing as a heroic character, a significant throughline in the game's story is the journey of the tiefling refugees. The story makes it clear that these people experience a constant barrage of racism, due to their appearance and "demonic" heritage. It also makes it abundantly clear that this prejudice is entirely undeserved - they're just people, with virtues and flaws like everyone else, and what is happening to them is terrible. So Wyll turns up to assist a bunch of people whom he now at least somewhat resembles - and with Karlach along, you have two people in the group who technically count as "infernal", but haven't got an evil bone in either of their bodies.

Mizora created solidarity. Oops.

Wyll is deeply suspicious of gods and higher powers. He doesn't want to make more deals with devils. When Elminster arrives to tell Gale what Mystra demands of him, he explicitly says he does not do religion. When you get Mizora to agree to let his contract expire in six months, he starts by casually invoking the gods - but switches to thanking the player character instead, because he knows who helped, and who did not.

But he utterly refuses to regret the pact he made. That can be a struggle. He clearly misses his dad, and would like that relationship repaired. The fact that he was transformed very much against his will is clearly a source of distress from him.

But if he regrets, then Mizora wins. That's it. Game over. She gets what she wanted all along. So he doesn't.

The main companion characters all have this kind of problem, and naturally have different ways of dealing with it. You have characters like Shadowheart and Lae'zel, who were indoctrinated as children, or Gale, who was literally seduced by one of these nightmare deities - and with them you have to start out by convincing them they they were the wronged party in the first place.

But Wyll knows exactly what game he's playing, and he's been screaming defiance the whole time. It's just that, in his case, the "defiance" is grinning and carrying on every time Mizora inflicts some more bullshit on him.

[harrysonlylover]

Pride & Prejudice or (Mechanic Harry Part 4)

Summary: Your relationship with the Mechanic in town seems to flourish as you spend more time working for him. Except that you both begin to cross friendship lines whether intentional or not.

WC: 10.4k

A/n: So sorry that part 4 took this long, i hope that didn’t discourage you from reading :( enjoy lovies🫶🏻

Mechanic H Series

Today is a good day.

The sun is golden, the trees in the field are dancing and bunny is hopping around the strawberries Harry planted. Some bluebirds flew around the house and landed on the kitchen window, aiding the tune being played on the yellow scratchy vinyl.

Rays of sunshine snuck in and painted the house with a warm ambiance that Harry could never give up, even Snowy expressed his love by sleeping under the sun.

Unfortunately Harry was unable to ignore the real sun that was missing, he felt his stomach drop when he realized that you already left. He cursed his drowsy state, knowing that he never sleeps in this late. If only he woke up half an hour earlier…

His pondering last night concerning what to cook you for breakfast is now long gone, but as far as he remembers he had decided on strawberry pancakes.

‘Sparks’ by Coldplay was his to-go song in the mornings, he needed something calm to soothe him after a full night’s sleep. But now the lyric ‘Did I drive you away’ is not something he wishes to hear, so he turns it off as the two bluebirds take over the singing.

Instead he plays ‘Je te laisserai des mots’ , it is more suitable for his window friends anyways.

He made himself a quick breakfast filled with protein ( which is sacred to him so he can have energy all day). Snow Bun had some rabbit food, with a chopped strawberry that he devoured first, he needs fuel to play all day too.

Harry trained Snowy when he was a baby , it was harder than dealing with a cat or dog even, yet not impossible. As far as he knows there isn’t much danger in the wide field but he installed a wooden barrier so Bun doesn’t go far away or loses his way.

He also makes sure to inspect the field during his morning run for anything that could be hazardous to the little bun, if he doesn’t have time then he’ll set him up a play area in the house.

Today was perfect for a morning run, so he enjoyed one, breathing in the pure air with his headphones in. The clock was nearing eight in the morning so he dressed up in his denim Levi’s , a custom Gucci shirt with a grumpy bear on it gifted to him by his childhood friend (apparently, he thinks that the bear is an imitation of Harry).

He was almost done with Meena yesterday before what went down between the two of you , he decided to leave it for later during the day, he has a good number of Jeeps to fix.

11 AM.

11:30 AM.

12:00 PM.

Harry kept checking the clock anxiously, perhaps it’s broken and he forgot to fix it? Old clocks need delicate care and recently he’s had his head in the gutter. His phone’s clock confirmed that it is indeed 12 PM, and you are still nowhere to be seen.

You took good care of the garage, helped him quite well and took appointments, yet Harry had a thing for being organized, and you didn’t…

It’s not like you turned the place upside down, but you liked having things close around you instead of organizing them, so his lost crawler (that he later found near broken scooters after he texted you) was stressing him out, and it reminded him of your presence , how you put the item somewhere else even after he tells you where to exactly put it.

His top-secret oil (a mix of oil his chemist friend made and some imported oil from the Middle East) getting lost was his last strike, even though it was your mess that got him startled and disturbed but he does not know yet that he unconsciously cares more about your presence than the items.

He cannot understand for the life of him why you thought you were fired, he never even implied it. What did your anxious little brain tell you?

He knows how anxiety can be, he’s not immune to it, but he can’t help his attitude , it’s how he acts around everyone. Harry was checking the coolant of a Range Rover when he heard the wheels of your bike; he abruptly straightened his posture , watching you attentively as you parked in front of his shop.

Your eyes were fixed on ‘Pride & Prejudice’ as you sat in your regular chair, it’s been like this for fifteen minutes. Uncle George interrupted before you could say hello to Harry. He was a nice old man and you could see how much he means to Harry.

He came for the clock necklace and patted Harry’s back, you can’t exactly point out their conversation but it is quite evident how grateful he is for Harry’s help.

You dug your eyes back into the book, allowing yourself to get lost in Jane Austen’s world. Harry’s presence was smooth, almost unnoticeable but never invisible.

“So what’s that book you’re reading?” He muttered suddenly catching you off guard. You’re not sure how much time has passed since George left. Getting distracted in books is easy.

“Pride And Prejudice”.

“Isn’t it about that guy that hates her but later becomes whipped?”

You let out a loud laugh at his own idea of the book, it was somewhat true. It’s just weird to hear him say it.

“Yes Mr.Darcy, it’s a bit complicated I believe that he might have liked her from the beginning, but was afraid of something, I’m not sure but men hide behind their emotions.” You were fiddling with the cover of the book not even aware that both of you are no longer speaking about the book.

“It’s just my opinion but guys always take longer to figure out things, because he really had no reason to be grumpy and mean.” You were speaking rapidly and curiously, as if you were alone in a room, nonchalantly criticizing one of the best classics.

Harry was a bit too silent, his legs spread as he sat in a car, checking its speedometer while he listened to you. A while ago you might have cared about him being calm and unresponsive but now the words rush out from your mouth without even thinking , you’re not sure what shifted but it’s nice, really nice.

You reached the part where Jane got sick and Elizabeth went after her, it was one of your favorite scenes but your reading got interrupted with a shadow blocking the light in front of you.

“Has anyone ever told you that your communication is pretty shit for a social worker?” Harry’s body towered over your resting figure, a thin layer of sweat adorning his face.

“I— what?”

“You didn’t talk about yesterday, nor why you skipped work today. You just immediately sat down with your bloody book” He wasn’t shouting loudly but his tone changed, and he was visibly upset.

“Please don’t shout.” You replied in a calmer voice and placed your book inside your bag.

“I didn’t mean it.” He scoffed and took a few steps back with his gaze fixed on your now disturbed expression.

“Why’d you leave in the morning.” He leaned against the car and spoke in a manner so calm that you barely even heard him.

“I just didn’t want to bother you.” Again you noticed that he doesn’t have music on.

“I don’t understand.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes before swiping his hand through his hair.

“Well my presence at the race was rude and then you welcomed me into your home, I felt like I was intruding and being a burden.” You managed to speak as you fiddled with your bracelet.

You didn’t want to confess anything to him or anyone for that matter but especially him. Maybe he’ll think you’re an idiot who overthinks every word spoken or why the wind blew in that direction so instead of bothering anyone, deducing outcomes was easier.

“It’s fine, we’re good. We were both in the wrong and don’t worry about it anymore. My home is not the white house, you can come anytime…” His soft face stared back at you as he hesitated his choice of words.

“…. For Snow Bun of course.” He cleared his throat and awkwardly scratched his head.

“Yes, he is very adorable.”

Even after being vulnerable and speaking out, the atmosphere was still nice perhaps even better. You were not one to communicate and Harry was an argumentative person, an outsider would gape their mouth at your attitude but for now Harry moved around the garage and played David Bowie, and you silently hummed as you arranged the appointments. He managed to sneak the fallen pots inside before you arrived, but it was of no use, you already saw them. And so it goes whatever he hides, you will see.

“Heyy I found my top secret oil!” Harry screamed from inside over the sound of music. He popped his head out a few moments later showing you the oil bottle.

“Did you put it in the refrigerator?” He furrowed his eyebrows inspecting the bottle from all sides while realization struck you as your face turned tomato red.

“I’m sorry! I thought it was Pomegranate molasses.” You cupped your hand over your mouth feeling your heart beat rapidly.

You expected a scolding, perhaps forcing you to pay for it or just grumpy Harry attitude but instead you were met with a toothy grin as his head fell backward before he placed his palm over his eyes and let out the most beautiful laugh you have ever heard.

Harry held back his laughter for the rest of the day and gave in every time he looked at your pout. In your defense, you really thought it was molasses, you apologized repeatedly but he wasn’t really listening, stuck in a laughter daze.

When a customer came to pick up his car and inquired if Harry changed the oil, he looked at you and laughed as you organized his tools, but the customer got rude and Harry didn’t take it well.

”Are you laughing at me?” He tried to appear intimidating but failed to do so as Harry straightened his posture, and crossed his arms against his chest, allowing his biceps to flex almost immediately.

“The fuck is your issue dick? Do you see me laughing for you? Piss off from here.” He sneered at him before throwing the car keys at him.

The man grumbled something under his breath, and picked up his keys off the ground as he continuously cursed Harry who was changing the song choice to 1975 and couldn’t care less.

“What was the man shouting for? Did I mess up his appointment?” You asked him timidly after hearing the man shout loudly.

Harry gazed at you with a troubled look, wincing slightly as he noticed your eager expression, were you waiting for him to shout at you? He regrets not beating up the guy.

“Just men being men don’t worry yeah?”. You nodded at his words and took your usual seat watching him continue to work as you unwrapped your turkey sandwich.

He bopped his head to the ‘The Adults Are Talking’ by ‘The Strokes’ as he took off his rings and placed the leather gloves on his soft hands, they were pretty clean and delicate for a mechanic. This time he allowed his curls to shade his face, not paying attention to his hair clip. Due to the scorching heat, he took off his shirt (which you really liked) and placed it neatly aside where it wouldn’t stain.

The sight of his muscles was something you could never get over; he had phenomenal beauty and you read about Greek gods before but you’re not sure they can compare. Soft waist, artistic tattoos, delicate hip bone, dainty pearl necklace, prominent veins.

His anatomy was graceful like a fallen angel.

You had forgotten to eat breakfast this morning, and when Harry texted you asking to come, you freaked out and packed your sandwich instead of having it. It was your special recipe and the to go lunch sandwich, you were ready to devour it when you glanced at Harry and saw him gazing with a frown on his face making you feel like the worst person on the whole planet.

In a matter of seconds you had the sandwich split into two, leaving a half on the table in front of you and approached Harry who now was even more grumpy, as you stretched your hand to offer him the bigger half.

“Sorry for my bad manners, I should’ve asked, would you like to eat some of my Turkey sandwich?” His face softened a bit at your expression but switched back to his usual tense demeanor quickly.

“Thank you no, I was actually wondering about something else.” The toothpick in his mouth did not stop him from speaking, as he leaned his back against the car, planting his foot firmly against the gravel. His position made his midsection stretch and bend and his V line was getting recognition, you hoped he linked your drool to the sandwich.

“Which is? Do I have something to do before eating? Did you stop lunch breaks?”

Every time you spoke, a little feeling inside Harry sparked, this tiny feeling confirmed his thoughts time and time again. He has to shake himself whether mentally or physically and shut down his urges which most of the time include opening his notebook.

“I guess why you’re eating a sandwich. Does it fulfill you?”

The thing about Harry is that it’s very hard to read him sometimes, is it confusion or curiosity, fondness or kindness. Right now it was a mixture of both wonder and something that you can’t quite catch yet.

“I mean I think so. You don’t want to try it?” Your pout told him all he needed to know, if he didn’t take the sandwich from you, you’d probably think about it for days but right now Harry had something else on his mind.

“Can you stay here for a bit? Don’t go after me and don’t eat the sandwich” He ordered with a stern look before throwing his tooth pick in the garbage , closing the hood of the car and going inside the store.

You were not exactly sure how to feel, you don’t even know what he went to do, maybe he felt guilty or shy from your food offer. Either way you are really hungry and you wouldn’t mind sharing food with him so where did he disappear?

Harry has never cooked for someone else in his life until you.

He can’t really recall what led him here, or why he’s cooking meat right now and boiling pasta. His chef techniques were meant to be reserved only for him and Snow . His legs did lead him here and his hands keep chopping the vegetables without a direct order. Lately his nervous system seemed to be betraying him, acting upon some certain actions that make him beyond confused.

Maybe if he had an explanation after it was done, it would’ve put him at ease, except that he doesn’t. He likes to be direct and see immediately through people, and that was the problem with you, he was seeing too much.

Why did it matter if the pasta’s boiling was medium or fully cooked or if the change in spices was necessary? He could not for the life of him understand many things.

Maybe Snow Bun can help.

Harry has been inside his garage for the past 35 minutes, at first you were worried and he had asked of you to not follow him, so you respected his boundaries.

Your worry slowly fled away when you smelled it, the scent of tomato sauce and the unmistakable scent of meat, you assumed that your mind was playing tricks on you and it was your hunger that made you imagine things.

But as more time passed you knew that you were not a lunatic and that Harry really is cooking. So you were right then, maybe he was making food because he got hungry and refused to take your food. In moments like these you could see that Harry is just a tender boy at heart, in your opinion everyone is.

We get mistreated a lot that we lose sense of who we are, but the real and soft version of us, the one touched by angels and untouched by demons remains hidden and comes out discreetly but in the most beautiful ways one could imagine. It was kind of your favorite hobby, to see when it shows up , but to get to observe it, you have to know one’s weakness at first then watch them do the exact opposite.

With Harry it’s taking you more time to observe, tender things need more patience.

You got excited at the idea of Harry eating with you, you were used to eating alone, as the only person close to a friend you had was Kitty and maybe Harry but you don’t want to put your hopes up.

You were wrapping up the sandwich again so that it stays edible, before Harry walked out with two plates in his hand, he was still shirtless and the heat from the oven reflected on his sweaty body, he had a chef’s bonnet to avoid getting his hair in the food and the sight of him strolling lazily with his jeans low on his waist and holding food that he made was a sight that will be engraved in your mind for a long time.

He balanced the two plates in one hand effortlessly, and grabbed a chair nearby fixing it next to yours as he set the food in front of you which you figured out is a Tagliatelle alla Bolognese.

“Fancy some pasta?”

Lunch with Harry was nice. He seemed flustered and you’re not sure why, so to save him the embarrassment you opened up a chat about Snow Bun who is probably trying to pluck the strawberries from the garden as you spoke.

You insisted that Harry tastes your sandwich and despite his chef like standards he approved of your recipe but continued to flaunt that his culinary abilities are better.

“My sandwich deserves a Michelin!”

“Excuse you? People would die to have my pasta woman!” He scoffed and chewed with his Bunny teeth that he probably stole from Snow.

He took the plates inside and fumbled around for a certain product then remembered immediately that he ran out of it. You went on a quick walk and bought some of the missing essentials for the shop, and you bumped into Uncle George , who you approached to greet.

“Hello Uncle George, How are you? Can I help with anything?” You offered a sweet smile in case he needed it today.

“Oh bless you child I am well, thank you I’m only grabbing a bouquet of flowers.”

“Ohhh, is it for your wife?” You blushed at the thought of your future partner buying you flowers at an old age. Uncle George is a very sweet man, no wonder Harry is close with him.

“Yes darling it is, she loves yellow tulips.” He pointed at the bouquet he’s holding with an enthusiastic smile.

“Oh that’s so nice I hope she likes them. Have a nice day.”

“Same for you kid, same for you.” You bid him goodbye with another smile and walked away before hearing him again.

“I can see his through his eyes now.”

You turned around to see that he did not repeat his words and apparently not address you even, when he looked back he waved again at you and you returned it with a confused look.

Upon your return, Harry was cursing under his breath in a grumpy state, the music was low and he was standing over an open hood with his fingers examining his puckered lips. He asked for the bottle of brake fluid as you organized the other things you bought in their designated places.

“Can you come over here” He asked a few minutes later.

You found him holding up the hood of the car with his two hands and you can see how his biceps are clenching as his hand fought against the weight of the hood despite holding it like it weighs nothing.

“The hood is broken and I need to fix something else, It won’t balance on the stick, can you please hold it while I check something?” You nodded and took over the hood part , and quickly felt its weight. Damn him and his muscles.

He easily managed to pull heavy parts and put them back, he was really good at his job and no one could deny it. You helped him and handed him over some of his kit as he worked out the trouble.

“The coolant is supposed to have a sweet smell, yet it smells weird and there are no signs of any leak. Flashlight please?” He asked without turning to you but when you didn’t respond for a good while he angled his head towards you.

Your hair was long and straightened and it was getting in the way of your vision since you were bent down, you did not want to tell Harry, afraid that it would seem unprofessional of you.

You were struggling to hold the hood, and the flashlight was farther than all the other tools, when you tried to reach it your back cramped from the weight of the hood and your hair completely clouded your vision.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry it’s my hair. I can’t see.” You winced as you felt useless despite it being the first time he actually asked of you to help yet you were not able to provide it.

“It’s okay you can sit down I’ll handle it.” He replied without glancing at you.

“But I can help—“

“Just sit there, it’s fine.” You nodded and felt the sadness creep into you despite him not being mean, but you really wanted to help.

He’s already paying you way too much to just take appointments and buy new oil. Your body slumped against the barstool and your lips formed a pout as you glanced at the now neglected car, you were making a great team.

“M’gonna need you to stay still for a while.” He came behind you abruptly and swiped his hand through your hair.

His hands were soft even though he spent all day ruining his skin layer with work, you can feel the lotion he just used at the back of your neck. His rings sent a shiver up your spine, as his hand discovered your skin, it was silly to feel that way, so giddy for his touch but you couldn’t really help it.

You’re very shy by nature, and in situations like this you pry from ruining the mood and asking what the other person is planning to do. Even Harry seemed to take a long time to make his next move, his hands kept swiping through your hair tenderly, as his fingers went in and out from your hair strands.

He divided your hair into three divisions, and gently began bringing them together, the first with the second, then with the third and so on. Your heart was drumming against your ribcage, even more so when you realized that Harry was braiding your hair.

You soaked the moment in as much as you could, his knuckles were grazing your back and his touch made you want to crawl in his lap and hug him. Perhaps you were touch deprived or he was just very huggable. Not to mention that you love physical touch, so his hand at your skin caressing sensitive spots along with the soft breeze that’s helping Harry, made you want to giggle and squirm beneath him.

“No one has ever braided my hair.” You blurted out quickly before biting at your inner cheeks. Whenever someone was nice to you, you’d unconsciously share personal things, but again not only is Harry physically near you, but he seemed like the type of person you can feel comfortable around. Not because he wouldn’t object or make snarky comments like other men. Harry was just not judgmental.

Despite all his grumpiness, occasionally rude attitude and short temper, Harry was so soft deep down. You’ve barely known him for two weeks yet but your experience as a social worker aided you in identifying people and uncovering their mask. After all, Harry was a safe bubble, along with Snow Bun, his hydrangeas and yellow house. It is nothing but a courageous attempt at protecting his peace.

“Why? You have nice hair.” He mumbled the last sentence rather faster and quieter as if he didn’t want you to hear it. He even let out a huff as if he couldn’t believe you.

“The girls used to say that my hair is ugly and weird, and that I don’t look like Princesses.” You felt your cheeks burn at the memory, your childhood wasn’t the best, especially when you had to grow up with these said girls.

Harry glanced down at your locks between his hands, they were so pretty that he had to restrain himself from playing with them all day , they smell like strawberries too and he could swear you look like Rapunzel under the sun. Why were people mean?

“I don’t know, sounds like bullshit to me.” He shrugged his shoulders and cleared his throat as an attempt to keep his rough demeanor on.

You didn’t wish to recall these days so you focused on the feeling of his hands again, the wind around you and how the soft tug at your strands was almost like a scratch and made you feel sleepy but safe.

His fingers parted your hair but only for a few seconds, before he added the final touches, and secured the end of the braid with a hair tie. He continued to place inside it something that made your eyebrows furrow, you couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly, but you had a feeling it looked nice.

“Okay, now you can help me. The car is waiting.” He strolled to the car without any other words and pretended to continue his work, but not forgetting to give a side glance and watch you look at the mirror and at the blue hydrangea petals he placed in between your hair .

Ever since you arrived at this town, you experienced some harsh incidents that can be considered as ‘bad luck’. First, the landlord wanted to charge you double that of other apartments, until he changed his mind and lowered the price thankfully. Then the town was caught in a huge storm, making all shops close down so you couldn’t visit the grocery store and spent two days eating ramen.

Your job is a whole other story, quitting it allowed you to see things from a clearer point of view and learn from your mistakes. Harry’s advice served you good since if not for him you would be deep down a hole of troubles.

Losing your car was the most damaging, it was the only piece you had from your grandfather, also your first car and held many memories over the years. To see it every day in Harry’s garage made your heart clutch, but you know that you would never give up on it, you just need to save a little money.

All these incidents remind you how you will always be alright in the end. It’s been over a month since the race, and as each day passed you and Harry got closer. Breaking down his wall was not easy; you didn’t even fully reach there yet but there is a progress.

You learned that he has a sister in the UK, he loves engineering but wanted to study Music, he didn’t adopt Bun nor had an intention of keeping him. He found him covered in dirt behind the garage so he took him in until he was healthy enough to give him to someone worthy, yet even then Snowy refused to part from Harry and you have an inkling that it was the opposite.

Harry is a big tea drinker; he has packets that he keeps in both his garage and house. He really loves the honey and cinnamon tea, and drinks two cups a day. However he seems to dislike alcohol a lot and described it as ‘piss’.

Niall is his only trusted companion, they bonded over their origin and even though Niall tends to be playful and exactly what Harry hates in people sometimes, but you don’t recall a day where they didn’t speak to each other.

As you concluded from the beginning, he adores music and is a proud Vinyl collector. He once spent 600$ just to get his hands on a special edition of Elton John’s Breaking Hearts. Every other week, he visits a market nearby where he goes on a hunt for new interesting Vinyls.

Your days with him consisted of laughter, he had a way to make you smile even when it wasn’t his intention. He can still get grumpy sometimes, but he was never mean to you, whenever he got mad, he’d lock himself inside the store and get out after 15 minutes only to continue conversing normally.

He braids your hair from time to time, although you never really told him about the other mean things you’ve been told. You knew his preferences enough to get him lunch or a snack, perhaps a gift even, yet you felt like there was more to know but you had patience and in return you must also give him parts of yourself.

You’re not sure how you managed to be around him this long, he was unnaturally gorgeous, you would stare in awe at whatever he does, you never imagined a person to be this beautiful. You could swear his irises change shades every now and then, that his lips stole the color from cherries, and his body an incarnation of a female and male Greek gods.

Being around him made you flustered but not in a bad way, it was a good feeling that reminded you how you’ll be seeing him every morning, how the blood pumps faster to your heart when he’s near you, when your cheeks burn as he cooks for you or delivers a ‘hello’ message from Snowy with a strawberry filled basket.

He was somewhat your only friend and that was an achievement. Making friends is a nightmare for you, you’re not the best at it nor had good experiences in the past years. You’re not sure if you got better at it or if Harry is easy to be around, perhaps he is ,but that would also mean that there is nothing wrong with you.

Kitty was able to note the change in your attitude, how happier you became, but she refrained from saying anything because she already knows the cause behind all this giddiness and why Harry checked out Pride & Prejudice right after you returned it.

“I don’t mean to intrude my boy, but I never saw you as a classics guy.” Kitty spoke as she registered the book under his name.

“Umm, just wanna see what the fuss is about I guess, no other reason.” He tried to hide the blush in his cheeks by awkwardly scratching his neck and fleeing away after grabbing the book.

Kitty was no fool of course, she was just waiting, after all some clocks need delicate care and attention.

The news of quitting your job earned a broad smile from Harry, he looked even happier than you and kept assuring that you took the right decision. It didn’t take you long to find a job offer, the only issue is that it’s out of town but Harry insisted that you apply to see how it would go.

You watched him hop off his bike and remove the Gucci sunnies, before placing his motorcycle inside and taking off his leather jacket, he glanced at you and was about to speak but furrowed his eyebrows instead at your face expression.

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“Okay please don’t get mad, but I just remembered that my job interview is tomorrow and I know that this is last minute but I really need to take tomorrow off, I can start working on appointments from now an—“ Your anxious rambling made Harry even more confused that he had to cut you off.

“We all forget strawberry shortcake, what time is the interview?” He replied nonchalantly as he took off his shirt. You couldn’t help but blush at the nickname he’s given you for smelling like strawberries.

“Around one in the afternoon, but I have to get up early because I do not know the town and have to find a bus so th—“

“I’m driving you.” He picked up his crawler and walked to a car he was fixing since morning.

“No you don’t have to, I can—“

“It’s not negotiable, I’ll pick you up at 10.” You mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ as he continued to do his work.

Niall popped in around noon and began rambling about his work, what he ate and what he’s been up to as Harry only nodded and kept his focus on the car.

You liked his presence, he was a nice guy and anyone who Harry likes must be a big deal since it doesn’t happen that often, but it’s safe to say that Bun is fond of biting Niall in his leg , recently he’s been avoiding Harry’s House because of ‘the deadly beast’.

Niall swore that Snowy only seems to like you and Harry, even though he is harmless but he just never clicked with the little bun. You thought that it is such an ironic situation since Niall is the one who gets for Harry, Snowy’s food and essentials from his aunts’ store. Maybe he liked the Bun deep down.

When he figured that Harry is busy and will not give him his attention, he turned to you and struck up a conversation, he was very chatty and you found it hard to keep up with him.

“I had a chicken sandwich and I kept thinking about the ones that Harry make, they’re delicious really.” His Irish accent made you giggle.

“There’s leftover Pizza if you want, I can heat it up?” You asked him in case he was hungry.

“Thank you I should really get back but I’m also bored and I had to pass by to make sure Harry didn’t make you run away yet.” He let out a loud laughter and imitated Harry’s grumpy face making you laugh even harder.

The giggles did not go unnoticed by Harry, he could recognize your voice and laughter anywhere but it was infuriating when it wasn’t about something he said.

He decided to let it go as Niall is a funny guy and can make anyone laugh, that is until he heard Niall asking you a question that made him see red.

“Do you want to go out maybe? I know a nice place..” The rest of Niall’s question was inaudible as Harry’s jaw twitched and tightened.

He strolled over quickly to where you were standing with an oil bottle in his hand and spilled it over Niall’s shirt, it wasn’t a secret that Harry is visibly angry, but while Niall was oblivious you immediately caught up.

“Mate the fuck? If you’re mad unleash your anger somewhere else, I’m still in working hours.” He mumbled angrily as he walked over to his car, taking off his shirt and driving away.

You were shocked at Harry’s behavior; you looked back at him and he had anger radiating off his body. He didn’t even look you in the eye. Your arms were crossed in disappointment, perhaps with a hint of confusion and irritation. He knew it too but acted as innocent as a sly cat. He will not get away with it, you thought.

“Your child like antics seem to get only worse. That wasn’t an accidental spill, you were being rude.” You sneered feeling hot fume leave your body as a reaction to Harry’s act.

He dropped the wrench with a thud and strolled toward you with a scowl on his face that did not appear until you opened your mouth.

He trapped you in the corner making you lightly stumble and lay your weight against the bar stool you usually sit in. His face was inches apart from yours and all the blood in your body was pumping fast.

“Do you see how close I am to you? He must’ve been wishing to get to do that, and that’s my problem. You see I could’ve done worse, I was being nice Shortcake , m’kay?”. His piercing gaze softened after he finished talking and he tilted his head to the side smiling lightly, before backing away and lighting a cigarette.

Harry’s fingers kept tapping against the steering wheel as he awaited outside your apartment building, he showed up 10 minutes after you sent him the address as if he’s a standby chauffeur.

He pinched his puckered lips, glancing every now and then at his painted nails then back to the building gate. It’s not even a date or so but his whole body wants to shiver yet Harry mastered the art of controlling his reflexes.

What he did yesterday was unexpected, he took it too far and was really a child. What’s worse is that he didn’t seem to mind it until he got back home and replayed the scene in his mind. He threw oil on Niall just because he asked you out?

Recently Harry has been acting in ways he does not approve of which is quite silly as he controls his own actions yet sometimes, he feels helpless. He tried to ignore it at first, but that only seemed to make it worse.

Getting mad at the thought of someone dating you can only mean one thing and he refuses to accept it. It’s true that the past month was a change from the boredom he encounters at work every day, but it also allowed you to creep inside of him and lay there, Harry’s afraid you’re already welcome.

Thankfully Niall didn’t catch on, but only because this isn’t the first time Harry has been a jerk, but it also happens to be kind of their own thing, to prank each other. He ponders if he should apologize later on to Niall or just let it be, however If he does then it might reveal the fact that it wasn’t a joke.

Harry would consider himself to have fallen down the rabbit hole.

You and your silly books, adorable soft hair that always reminds him of his strawberry garden, weird colorful clothes that would send a fashion designer into a coma, sweet rambles about everything and your claims on being the best Turkey Sandwich maker. He could go on and on and tell every single bit about you, but he can’t and shouldn’t. He knows better than to allow his desires to take over the wheel, which is why he must find a way to climb back out of the rabbit hole.

He got pulled out of his trance by the sound of the door opening then slamming shut, your sudden entrance along with the wind going in your direction allowed Harry to catch a strong whiff of your strawberry scent making him clutch the steering wheel roughly.

“Am I late? So sorry I didn’t know what to wear and what book to grab for the road.” You apologized as you threw your bag in his backseat, trying not to focus on how he’s eyeing your figure without a single word.

After all, it’s a job interview and being elegant was a must. You spent the entire morning going through your closet and trying on every piece you have, to be a bit fair most of them were decent and suitable for an interview yet it was not your potential new boss that you wanted to impress.

The huffs and puffs paid off as you picked a matching plaid blazer and skirt, you faintly remember the last time you wore this set two years ago which is why it wasn’t a surprise when the skirt turned out to be a bit shorter than expected, it was still decent for the interview but also hugged your body perfectly.

Harry’s eyes nearly bulged out when he saw your skirt, you didn’t even bother to wear tights beneath it and your bare legs were a sight. He still didn’t utter anything and it was making you more anxious.

“Soo how long will the trip take?” You asked with your gaze set down on your feet, avoiding him as much as possible knowing that you’ll blush if you just glance.

“Approximately an hour and a half.” He cleared his throat and fixed his Gucci sunnies as he continued to chew his gum.

You brought three different books with you in case you wanted to pass time, but you hoped that you didn’t have to touch them and converse with Harry instead.

You didn’t realize that it would be much awkward when you are outside of work, initiating a conversation is harder let alone maintaining it. What’s making it worse is Harry’s attitude yesterday and what he said to you.

“I could’ve done worse shortcake.”

That exact sentence kept bothering you the whole night as you tossed and turned. Does he like you or is he just a protective friend?

It would be an exaggeration to assume he has a crush on you yet his actions placed you in a tough position. Would it be unwise to open up the subject? Will you even get the answer you’re wishing for?

All you know is that you’re about to spend half a day with him on the road without work distractions, and god knows what will happen but again the chances are below zero.

“Grab the 2nd CD here will ya?” Harry turned on the engine and began rotating the steering wheel with his palm as he stretched his arm behind your head and looked backwards. The sight of him driving like that made you squirm in your seat. You pretended to be fumbling with the CDs but instead you couldn’t possibly miss the sight of his biceps practically bulging through his leather jacket.

He had light stubble as he hasn’t been shaving for a while and despite having sunglasses on, you could see how focused he is, with a gentle furrow of his eyebrows. His hand on the wheel had protruding veins and you smiled at the new turquoise nail polish.

“The CD has a nice mix especially for road trips, let’s get going shortcake.”

The mixtape Harry picked had one of the best songs you’ve ever heard. He has a talent for picking the right tune in any situation. Knowing him, he probably would’ve bought his Vinyl player with him if not for road bumps.

Emerald star by Lord Huron was playing and Harry raised the volume. For the first time since you left town you dared to look at him.

His side profile was majestic, you can’t see his eyes but you assumed they’re in their usual state, unreadable and unbelievably gorgeous. Some freckles lay against the tip of his nose, the weather has been getting warmer and the more freckles appear on his face the more enamored you become.

His jaw flexes as he chews his cherry gum, and if he likes the song he’d tap with his index finger repeatedly, perhaps bite at the skin of his rosy lips. You can tell that he wants to sing along but you don’t want to push him out of his comfort zone.

“Oh what a jewel are you, and oh what a fool am I

For squandering my love on an emerald in the sky”

The song touched your heart as you listened to pure poetry with a melody, it was something else. Even Harry allowed his dimples to show when he first heard the intro of the song.

“I loved it so much, can we repeat it?” You asked as he immediately turned to you with a grin.

“Haven’t spoken a single word since we set off , and you only talk to me because you liked the song? I thought the cat got your tongue.” He placed his sunglasses above his soft curls and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, leaving the steering wheel without control as he cupped his hands around his mouth to light the cigarette.

“Can you not do that again?” His recklessness was a reminder for you to put on your seatbelt and you did so quickly.

“Do what?” He turned to you with parted lips and you could not tell if he’s acting innocent or is actually clueless.

“This.. thing with leaving the steering wheel and looking at me. You’ll get the car crashed.” Your voice showed how timid you are, but it was only fair when he was being so careless.

He let out a deep chuckle, with the cigarette perched between his lips. “I know what i’m doing shortcake, i’ve been driving cars since I was 14. If I want to get us crashed , I would’ve done that in the race.” He took another puff from the cigarette and let it out through the window.

The reminder of the race made you feel uneasy, not only was it terrifying and life threatening but now that you know Harry more, you unconsciously care for him which explains the pit that formed in your stomach at the mention of the race.

“Besides I can look at you whenever I want” He muttered under his breath and you decided to not answer back at any of these remarks.

“If the garage is getting you good money, why do you race Harry? You could get yourself killed.” Your curiosity took control as you found yourself speaking without thinking first.

It was as if he didn’t hear you or chose not to. The silence was loud except for AngelEyes by ABBA blasting on the radio, you slowly diverted your body towards the door and looked out the window, trying not to feel hurt with his attitude.

“I like the adrenaline it gives me.” He suddenly spoke making you turn back to him.

“It has a certain type of rush that I’m addicted to, you could say I’m an adrenaline junkie. I also love how everyone tries to beat me, but they will never be able to do that shortcake.” He elaborated nonchalantly as if he was speaking about an arcade game not a dangerous street race.

You could not possibly lie and say that you didn’t like it, at some point you discarded the fear and experienced some of the adrenaline he spoke of, but you couldn’t also deny how dangerous it was.

He had you in his lap, with one hand secured around your waist yet still managed to drive with risky turns and the other driver’s attempt at getting him to crash. It looked like any daily routine for him.

“Perhaps you can find a healthy addiction?” You didn’t wish to interfere in his life, but being you, helping others to overcome unhealthy habits is a must.

“Hmm, maybe.” He gave you a toothy grin as if he got an idea right there and then but didn’t want to share.

The road ahead of you was slightly familiar, a few cars were driving along but surprisingly not a lot. As soon as Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High by Arctic Monkeys started playing, you rolled down the car window, and let out your upper body as the soft breeze caressed you and allowed your hair to float.

Harry was shocked at your sudden act, he no longer cared if the road was empty or swarmed with cars. Your back was turned to him and your skirt was riding up on the back of your thighs, you had already kicked off your heels when you got in. The door was locked and you still had your seatbelt on, hence why he didn’t freak out, however he had his arm stretched near your waist just in case.

If an officer passed by on his motorcycle, he’d take away Harry’s license. His eyes forgot that the road exists, or that he’s driving, all he could see was you. Your floating hair, spreading the strawberry scent everywhere, the giddy smile on your face like a child experiencing the high of a rollercoaster for the first time or the way you ignored him and pretended that it’s your own world with the song blasting.

You looked like an addiction he could get used to.

‘ You said you gotta be up in the morning

Gonna have an early night

And you’re starting to bore me, baby

Why’d you only call me when you’re high?’

As the song came to an end, Harry’s apprehension took the spotlight as he pulled you in with one swift motion. He can race with many cars cornering him but you push your body outside of the window and the alarms in his brain go red.

You squealed when he pulled you in, as he cut off your little moment with the wind. His questioning expression made you self-aware of what you did making roses slowly creep up your cheeks as you covered your face quickly with your hands.

“Oh c’mon shortcake, that was nice. Did you get your own adrenaline hmm?” He reached his hand and removed yours off your face.

“I just felt like doing it.” You shrugged your shoulders and smiled shyly at Harry.

“Do whatever you want shortcake.”

Time passed easily with Harry. It was definitely not your expectation but you didn’t mind it too. You’ve been on the road for half an hour now, and you had a fight about ice-cream flavors. You’ve been slowly trying to break down his ice wall and now that you��ve laughed together, you thought about taking the conversation further.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked with curiosity reeking from your voice.

“No I will not try your disgusting bubblegum ice-cream.” He grumbled like a child as if you asked him to eat trash.

“No but one day I will make you eat that.” He rolled his eyes at you making you let out a laugh at the thought of him trying on bubblegum ice-cream.

“ So.. is it okay if you tell me how you knew that my ex boss was scamming me?” You swallowed down your throat after asking, as you reopened the subject that made you both fight in the first place.

You can see how his jaw twitched upon the mention of your ex boss, he certainly was not pleased with the topic and testing the waters now seems like a bad idea.

“Sorry you don’t have to—“

“He scammed my sister before you.” He looked at you with a hint of pain in his face.

“We both came here young and had dreams, I was slowly building myself and she thought that volunteer work was a good step. He kept promising her with a job, made her donate even, only to tell her that there is no place for her when the contract was over.” He was trying to hide his anger but to no avail. His nostrils were flaring and he could rip off the leather of the wheel from how tight his grip was.

“She was ambitious just like you, and what he did left her hopeless. Eventually, she didn’t find a job and went back to the UK.” Your heart clutched at the thought of Harry’s sister going through the same thing but with no one to warn her.

“I’m so sorry, I hope she’s doing better now back home.”

“She is, he just didn’t have the right to do so. That fucker… I wish I complied to my urges and left him a bloody mess but back then we didn’t have money for lawsuits.” He let out a big sigh and you felt like an idiot for discussing it with him.

“ Your sister sounds lovely, I’m sorry that happened to her.” You answered softly not knowing what to exactly say.

“Enough of that now shortcake, talk about something else.” It was obvious that he desperately needed a distraction and you felt inclined to provide it.

“We can play Truth or Truth since we can’t do dare in the car.”

“That sounds like a made up game but okay.” You rummaged your head for nice questions that do not cross his boundaries.

“How many tattoos do you have?” He pretended to count them making you roll eyes at him.

“I dunno shortcake, I lost count at 20.” You don’t have any tattoos but you wondered how the hell he was able to handle all this pain.

“My turn, what’s your favorite book ever?” He skipped the song that was playing until he decided on ‘Sesame Syrup’ by Cigarettes After Sex.

“Absolutely not, I’m not answering that.” You shook your head aggressively in disapproval feeling cornered with the question.

“I’m not letting that slide easily but your turn.” He took off his leather jacket, leaving him in a plain white shirt as you glared at him for leaving the steering wheel again.

“How many partners did you have?” Your felt quite bold but regretted it immediately after you saw his smirk.

“Hmm I’d say one for the serious relationship.” He was cheeky with his answer as if you fed his ego by asking. You’re not even sure why you did so, perhaps your curiosity got the best of you.

“My turn. What’s the best place you’ve had sex in?” Your cheeks turned crimson red at his question, as you began picking at your nails. He looked back at you when you took too long to answer and saw how flustered you were.

“Shit did I make you uncomfortable? “ He cursed under his breath as he stared at your flushed face.

“No it’s okay.. I just.. umm “ You swallowed down your throat, and turned away from him as the game was no longer in your favor.

“What is it?” He was confused as to why you suddenly become more flustered than you usually are. You were biting your bottom lip and playing with the hem of your skirt until he finally understood what’s up.

“Are you a virgin shortcake?” His rather correct guess made your face heat up embarrassingly as you allowed your hair to fall and cover your face from him.

“Hey, don’t do that. S’fine you can say whatever you want.” Harry found it cute that you were so red in the face over his question. He couldn’t believe it.

His shortcake was a virgin.

He tried to refrain himself from thinking about unholy things but god he couldn’t. How can he continue to live every day and be around you now that he knows you haven’t been touched.

“Yeah, you’re right, I’m just embarrassed.” You spoke in a low voice with your gaze set at your feet.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s just a stupid social standard, you can wait for as long as you want shortcake.” He tried to comfort you, as he realized how upset you might be feeling.

“It’s not really about waiting; it’s about finding someone. Boys didn’t date me, they went for the popular prettier girls.” Harry almost hit the brake pedal in the middle of the road at your words. The fact that you thought so lowly of yourself because of stupid premature boys made him see red.

“The fuck do you mean by that? Just because some boys are pricks doesn’t mean you’re not worth dating. Fucks sake where’d you get those thoughts from?” He was visibly angry as you held back tears at both your confession and his sweetness.

“I’m not sure..” You couldn’t provide him with an answer when you didn’t even know what was going on in your own love life.

He suddenly turned off the music and reached his hand to caress your burning cheek. “ Hey, look at me.” He ordered softly as he turned your face to him.

“It’s not nice to think like that. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You’re worth more than sex and there are many people out there who would kill to have you. It was my fault for bringing it up.” His sweet words added to your pent-up frustration as you held back hot tears.

“It’s okay, can we close the subject now?” You’re not sure you can handle any further comforting from him. You feel embarrassed enough as it is for confessing such things.

“Yes of course but remember my words.” He leaned back in his seat and actually set his eyes on the road.

He didn’t know what to feel. The way you underestimate yourself infuriated him, it proves to him yet again that you’re too pure for this world. Never was he so angry just because someone else was not treated properly.

He didn’t want to think whether it’s right or not to feel that way, all he knows is that he’s mad. If only he could talk a little more… but he respects your boundaries and decided to turn on the music again in hopes of cheering you up.

You arrived at the designated building in no time, and you felt a lot better after Harry stopped by an ice cream shop and bought you four scoops of bubblegum ice cream with marshmallow topping. You admired his gesture and you could tell he was trying to make up in his own way.

Even though you were ready mentally and parked right outside of the building, you felt like cooling off a bit and taking a stroll on the sidewalk.

Harry walked out from the car like a movie star with his beloved leather jacket hanging off his shoulder, you fixed your attire and secured your handbag before beginning to walk with Harry by your side.

The building was tall with tainted windows that you could not see through, you can hear Harry lighting up a cigarette behind you to destress as if he’s the one with the interview.

“Harry, I think I’ll just go in. If I wait any longer, I’ll get stressed.” You fixed your hair and stared back at Harry who was leaning against the car.

“Whatever suits you, I’ll wait here.” You gave him a gentle smile and walked away towards the building before you heard him calling your name.

“Yes?” You turned around to face him.

“Read the contract well shortcake.”

Harry has been waiting outside the building for almost an hour now, he thought about going in to check up on you but he didn’t want to embarrass you, for all he knows you could be waiting or doing the interview as he walks in.

He’s had five cigarettes and walked back and forth three times; it could be a sign of anxiety but for fucking what? It’s you who’s doing the interview and worrying about you should be the last thing he’s supposed to do.

In the past month he allowed you to get closer to him, something he despises. But now that he thinks about it, he never remembers being aware of it. He always has his guard on, and the way he let it down naturally scares him.

He’s gotten used to your turkey sandwiches, books around the garage, random hair clips that he finds everywhere, the fallen hydrangea petals from your hair after he braids it, some doodles and heart shaped drawings in his appointment book, and the curious inquiries when he’s fixing cars.

‘ So if you replace this piece with a new one, does it become like those cars in movies.’

’ Can you place a machine inside the car that gives you bubblegum when you press the button’

‘ What happens if you actually replace the oil with pomegranate molasses’

As a mechanic, hearing these questions sent him into a laughter fit, you were something else that he can’t pinpoint, perhaps otherworldly but what he knows is that you are not the type he ever saw himself meeting. He couldn’t possibly believe that someone like you exists.

Maybe he’ll wake up at any second and find himself back home, and that it was all just a fever dream, even his garage, degree and Snow Bun. Instead he hears the sweet voice that he got so accustomed to hearing every morning.

“Harry! I got the job” You walked excitedly to him while being careful to not trip over.

Deep down Harry knew that they would take you, it wasn’t a surprise that you’re talented, not to mention a very fast learner. But to see you so happy with the broadest smile was the real fever dream. He didn’t prepare himself for encountering such a sight nor could he survive it.

“They said that there’s no need to wait a few days, they hired me on spot and you wo—“ You stood in front of him rambling excitedly before he cut you off by pressing his lips against yours and cupping your face with both of his hands.

You melted in the kiss as his soft lips nibbled on yours, your heart was drumming against your chest and it all felt too surreal. You can taste the mix of cherry and cigarettes on his tongue as his mouth lapped at yours and devoured you whole.

Neither of you seemed to want to let go, especially Harry who held on to your waist as he deepened the kiss further making you lean backwards against his arm. Your tongues clashed together and you could feel him smiling.

Harry is not sure he can climb out of the rabbit hole.

A/n: hope you had fun reading!! Please make sure to leave feedback, i’d appreciate it a lot <3

Taglist: @matildasatellite @xxrosebunny @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @novasblogofstuff @gem1712 @miasdelicatepov @jessitpwk @tiaamberxx @peacheskiwi @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tbsloneely @namelesssav @20031990s @prettythingsworld @st-ev-ie @slut4marvelmenn @swiftmendeshoran @missmielyhoran @a-strange-familiar @wandas-lawyer @fullofstyles @cherrycokeslay @blepskies @that-daydream-look @hslt-2809 @ivegotparticulartaste @itslottiehere @harryssideboob @malwtilda @harrysficreblog @hsonlyangelxo @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @kiwilikesmeow @sagggy @epidxte @indierockgirrl @annesauriol @leenameh @scottisantman @grapejuicebluesrry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @nysworld @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @rueluvsharry @lomlhstyles @novalunosising

[tornedheart]

Yandere Aegon Targaryen With His Dead Wife

GIF by @takenbythelightfantastic

Warnings: childbirth death, stillborn mentions, unhealthy relationships, implied necrophilia, dark themes.

The credit for this idea is from @tinfairies, if you like my writing, try her Tumblr, she is an AMAZING writer.

Otto had been against the marriage from the start, the betrothal offered more damage than benefits. But his grandson had been keen on it from the start, and the approval of the king — he was almost sure the blessing was only given because of how it prevented Aegon from gaining more power — basically made it unavoidable.

Aegon was charmed from the start, he had always been in a desperate craving for love and attention, and to have someone whose duty is almost completely just giving it to him

The betrothal is short, but he's happy to get married and bask in all the attention he can get from her. She's also the one to deal with his sour moods and tantrums every time her eyes wander even a bit. 

There are no surprises when she falls pregnant at the start of their wedlock, not with all the time they spend together.

Then Otto is alerted that the woman is having difficulty in giving birth, the timing is almost too good and his reaction is immediate. To approach the maester and give the order, to save the baby instead of the wife.

Expecting him to do something else could only be called naivety, truly.

The bloodcurdling screams that come from the woman are a bit worrisome, and he has to send Alicent to calm the boy down. The despair and fear in her eyes and the way she trashes around is a bit sad, he won't deny it.

The baby to be born dead was not something he had planned, but it is not a great loss. He will marry Aegon again, and then he can have another child with his next wife. It's not great for a king to not have direct descendants, however it can be managed.

Aegon then finally is able to enter the room, he runs to his wife's body, cupping her face, bringing her closer to him, and tentatively trying to bring her butchered stomach together. It's a sad sight, and Otto doesn't even try to hold the sigh that leaves his mouth.

He knows that will be a mess of a day to deal with, but it is needed.

And then in the next morning he walks in a mess in the court, both of the bodies of the woman and the baby are nowhere to be found. He's left to deal with annoyed septas, only when he is alerted that a wet nurse was called to the king's chambers he understands how bad the situation is.

There is the maid he had called breastfeeding the stillborn — her face paralyzed in terror — while Aegon is pawing at a corpse.

Aegon doesn't think he can continue to deal with the constant bother that the court keeps delivering to his wife. The constant insistence to find a new wife, they don't seem to understand that she's just a bit sick after the birth. And then they talk about the insecurity in the succession of the throne, it doesn't matter how many times he tells about the child he already has or the ones he plans to have after his wife regains her health.

He makes sure to spend enough time with her and his child so they don't think he is giving any thought to their talk. Their nights together, when their baby is being cared for by the wet nurse, are few, he will not prejudice her weak health further just for his pleasure, the shocked stares from the maesters prove that he should be careful.

He will bring her to court more once her health allows it

And he stays with his child most of the days, his dragon egg may still not have hatched, but it's only a question of time, he vowed before the baby was even born that he would not be like his father.

He will not put his wife and child to the side for bastards and plays. 

However it doesn't seem like his grandfather is willing to take his word on it, that's why he tells her maids to dress her up for a feast on her name, giving her a quick kiss before letting her get ready.

[atokirina-tsuki]

He can't help it

Ao'nung x Sully!Reader

hii, first one-shot here! FEEDBACK WELCOME!

Summary: despite teasing and taunts, feelings come to surface,

Ao'nung laughs as tears sting your eyes. You turn, dejected, tail swishing lowly between your legs. Honestly, moving to Awa'atlu excited you greatly, all to be ruined by the prejudice of the Olo'eyktan's son.

Your family's new marui had Tuk's toys scattered, and your mother sat in the middle of the chaos, calmly making your family's dinner with the fish your brothers had caught. You composed yourself as you stepped inside.

"Ma'ite! How was your day?" Your mother never failed to make sure her kids were ok. She was the one you went to when you cried as a child, your father more of a captain than a dad.

You nod, a gentle smile forming, "It was good Mama." Every one of the Sullys knew you were soft. Gentle smiles, soft tones, and light hands. They never hesitated to protect you, despite you being the eldest daughter.

As the rest of your family filled the home, you sat by Tuk, who was chattering excitedly about the shells she found along the shore with Tsireya.

Kiri sits quietly, and Lo'ak and Neteyam enter the marui in a burst of noise, talking about today's successful hunt.

You laugh quietly to yourself, delighted by how quickly your family settled into the Metkayina way.

That night, surrounded by your family, you never felt more at peace.

The peace was only a brief respite from the drama between you and Ao'nung. It's not just the Sullys who know you are soft. The whole Metkayina clan slowly comes to notice this. Forced to move on from your siblings, he instead taunts the gentle Sully.

You can't help but let the tears build, despite knowing he isn't worth it. You pull your weight at the village, nowhere near useless as you transport shells and help with weaving, even sometimes helping the Tsahik, Ao'nung's mother, with healing the wounded.

You couldn't fathom why he felt the need to attack you. Maybe it was because you didn't notice the soft smiles that appeared so uncharacteristically on his face as he watched you, kind and polite, never complaining.

He can't help but feel towards you. He can't help the purplish hue to his cheeks, can't help anything, and he can't control himself.

He wants you. He wants your endless patience directed at him. He wants to be the one to feel your soft hands on his cheeks, caressing him as the weight he carries finally leaves his shoulders.

He sees you.

-----

You find tranquility under a grove of palm trees on a cliff overlooking the sea. You tuck your knees comfortably to your chest, looking out over the endless expanse of blue.

The peace does not last long as a Metkayina body comes crashing through the leaves. Your eyes widen in shock as they turn, revealing the flushed face of Ao'nung, who lies down, staring at the sky, not noticing your presence, a mere foot away from him.

Slowly though, he feels your presence and turns his head to meet your golden eyes. His own aqua-blue ones enlarge as he scrambles up, determined not to let you see his vulnerability.

"Don't mind me." You break the silence, "I'm here for the view." Ao'nung slowly looks past you, at the ocean. He scoots closer, and you both are watching the sea, the waves entrancing you.

"I'm sorry." You turn to find Ao'nung's head ducked in shame, eyes downcast.

"Why?" You ask. He blinks, "I was cold to you." "Cold doesn't even begin to describe it." You mutter, but his short, pointed ears pick it up anyway.

"Either way, I am sorry. I don't expect you to accept the apology, but I want you to know I'm sorry." He looks like he's about to cry, and your chest constricts.

"It's ok, you know." You look at the sky. "I'm a new person, from a different tribe, who knows virtually nothing about your culture, and yet here I am, taking place among your clan. You shouldn't like me."

Ao'nung ducks his head down again. "It's not that." You look at him questioningly. "It's because... it's because I see you." He all but whispers this, eyes red and face, shameful.

You smile, a soft smile bright on your face. "You're in luck then." He glances up at you "I see you too Ao'nung." Because despite the teasing, and the taunts, you couldn't help but find Ao'nung as amazing as he found you.

You saw him too.

Ao'nung can't control the delighted laugh that escapes him. He lifts you up, spinning you around, eventually bringing you close as you rest your foreheads against each other. Your small, thin hands caress his face lightly, and he feels his burdens disappear.

Just like he imagined.

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ  

🌿ESTP 🍁Slytherin 📜Chaotic Neutral 🔮Leo Sun, Gemini Moon, Saggitarius Rising

SFW🌿

⭑ When you first met Aemond, you were intimidated. No matter how self-assured you are, Aemond has this ability to make anyone feel unsettled.

⭑ He knows that he would be a better King than Aegon. He has the knowledge, the skills, the drive, to make Westeros better.

⭑But the conflict with the Blacks meant that the Greens needed better forces, more alliance and enforced strength.

⭑ That’s when Alicent wed Aemond to you, the first daughter of the Stark line.

⭑ You traveled to King’s Landing with your father, with your brother lording over Winterfell.

⭑ Your direwolf, Ilta, with eyes as black as coal, came with you. She was the biggest of the litter, which was surprising since she was tiny when you claimed her.

⭑ You felt safe enough. Until you were in front of Queen Alicent, her lips pursed and frame tight. 

⭑ “We don’t normally have animals inside the castle walls.” She said simply, although her tone was light and friendly. 

⭑ You saw right through it. 

⭑ Growing up as a Stark, everyone spoke with honesty and openly. 

⭑ Being forthright was embedded in your bones. 

⭑ It was a big deal to be summoned by the Queen, especially in the throne room. Aegon was nowhere to be seen, and in actuality, you hadn’t seen him since arriving a week ago. 

⭑ Haelena was staring at the ceiling. The interactions with her were ... well, they were great. Although she was airy, you were confused at times by her words. You always gave her your full attention and replied without judgment. 

⭑ Aemond stood nearby. His shoulders square and set. Your future husband. 

⭑ “If you do not wish for Illta to be inside, say so, my Queen.” 

⭑ From that moment, Aemond thought of you with more respect. There weren’t many people who would be so straightforward with royalty. 

⭑ His reluctance to marry ebbed with more interactions. 

⭑ The more he got to know you, the more he ... looked forward to the marriage. 

⭑ His heart still had Haelena in it. But no one could know that. And he feared it would never go away. 

⭑ You were ready to do your duty. No matter the cost. Although you wished to choose your own suitor. You knew that marrying a king’s brother was important. More than important. It was nearly as valuable as marrying a king. 

⭑ Aemond didn’t have any expectations of you. He thought that he would meet a dumb, unkept woman, who could barely form a sentence. (They had a lot of prejudices against Starks.)

⭑ But you put him in his place, more often than not. 

⭑ He thinks that your bond with Illta is impressive. Although a direwolf is no dragon, there’s a positive to have a creature that can be beside you. It’s like having a bodyguard who knows no mercy. 

⭑ Alicent had reservations when she finally met you. She wanted a compliant young girl who needed advice and guidance. But what she got was the opposite. 

⭑ But what did she expect? You’re a Stark woman. 

Theme Song:

‘You Should See Me In A Crown’ by Steve Horner

Relationship Tropes:

 ✧ Arranged Marriage

 ✧ Distance At First, then Mutual Yearning, Turning Into Sexual Frustration

 ✧ Tough On The Outside, Soft On The Inside (Aemond) x The Top (You)

NSFW🔞minors dni!

⭑ Aemond is a bit hesitant at first. His experiences with sex haven’t been positive. Ever since Aegon made him ‘become a man’ at the age of thirteen, he hasn’t found sex as a desirable thing.

⭑ Since that time at thirteen, he’s felt repulsed by sex. By the thought of naked bodies moving against each other, the sweat and vulnerability of it.

⭑ His feelings aren’t fleeting enough to have one-night stands, to find a person to fuck for a night then forget about.

⭑ So your first time together was your wedding night. 

⭑ And he was comfortable enough with you. But the sex ... confusing. He didn’t seem to want to and you didn’t push him. 

⭑ But something changed. You felt it in their air. 

⭑ You kissed. And at first it was just lips touching lips, but it grew. Tongues felt around each other’s mouths and hands began to roam. 

⭑ There was heat, so much goddamn heat. And his clothes seemed to be in the way. And then you were both naked. 

⭑ His thick, long cock thrusted deep inside you. His strong arms encased you to the bed. White hair curtained you as he moaned into your mouth. 

⭑ Aemond loves your tits. He definitely has a Mummy kink - and enjoys sucking on your nipples. 

⭑ The more you become comfortable with each other, the more you branch out and experiment. 

⭑ Having minimal sexual experience would be a sore-spot for Aemond. He has tried all his life to be the perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect knight. He wants to be the best. He has educated himself on every aspect that a king should. 

⭑ But he didn’t learn about sex. Not properly. Not safely. And that damaged him. It made him feel less than because he didn’t have escapades. 

⭑ But you assure him that that doesn’t make him any less than anyone else. 

[conflictofthemind]

Byler and the ‘Right There All Along’ / ‘Overlooked Love Interest’ Trope

One of the biggest criticisms from anyone who’s not on the Byler train is that a Byler endgame would ‘come out of nowhere’ and be completely illogical. I’ve seen a lot of people argue that it would be bad writing and since Mike hasn’t shown any (immediately obvious and textual) romantic interest in Will, it’s unbelievable that he would ever be interested in him.

Except that like. This is a romance trope. A very common one even found in classic novels. Maybe even an amalgamation of a few. Jane Austen the mother of romance even wrote about it multiple times; in Pride and Prejudice Elizabeth doesn’t fall in love with Mr. Darcy until after he confesses / proposes and she rejects him. In Mansfield Park, Edmund is completely oblivious to the protagonist’s feelings for him and doesn’t fall for her until the very end of the novel. In Emma, the protagonist realizes her feelings for her family friend Mr. Knightley (who she also thinks loves somebody else) in the final act of the novel as well. These are classic, critically acclaimed and academically studied novels.

It’s also a very common trope in combination with Childhood Friends, because the positioning of someone as a close friend for years makes it harder to consider a change in the dynamic unless it’s presented very obviously to you.

The “Love Revelation Epiphany’, which is incredibly similar, is where a character doesn’t develop or realize feelings until they find out that the other character is interested in them. It’s usually played to be tragically unrequited until this particular twist is revealed. In my opinion, this is one of the most likely ways Byler will come to fruition.

The only reason that this seems out of left field while countless other stories have played with similar tropes is 1) homophobia (a lot of the audience never allowed themselves to consider even the possibility of Mike reciprocating) and 2) the fact that Stranger Things has been dragged out for much longer than any kind of movie or book, and most shows. People have simply gotten used to the current status quo.

Looking at story crafting and writing theory points so heavily towards Byler. I’m going to make a follow up to this post, likely tomorrow, explaining why in a character development and story sense it necessitates Will being ‘greedy’, and fighting for and getting what he desires.

[alovesongtheywrote]

WHYYYYYYYYYY

♥ Summary:  I'M SO SORRY. in this chapter of nightmare academia, spencer gets what he deserves and then some. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: the reader is VERY mean to spencer- i mean, he definitely deserves some of it but oh my god, the reader is almost homicidal. mentions of maeve, a side character's shitty ex is following them, sadness, anger, angst

♥ A/N: i just want to point out, i think the reader was in the right with their argument in the last chapter. anyway, fun fact- some of the Fun Names the reader calls reid are references to the tin can bros production, "the solve it squad." neat :D

♥ Word Count: 3812, a few dozen of which came from @mxcheese

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

Spencer felt like absolute shit- and he should have.  He’d been a massive fucking dick to you and for what?  He'd taken the objectively wrong side in that argument, and for what? To protect himself from future grief?  To protect himself from the guilt of moving on from Maeve?  He’d succeeded.  He’d driven you away.  Maybe that was for the best, but god did it not feel worth it.

He’d hurt you.  He’d done it on purpose.  He’d gone for your insecurities, for the things he knew would hurt you the most.  He tore at your weak spots like a feral dog, and he regretted it the moment the words left his mouth.

He watched you drive away.  He watched as your car got smaller and smaller until he couldn’t see it anymore.  Then, he buried his face in his hands and tried not to scream.  He stood out there in the cold on the side of the street until Morgan came to get him.

Morgan didn’t ask what had happened.  He already knew Reid had done something stupid.

“My advice, kid?” Morgan said as he dropped Reid off later that evening, “Call them.  Apologize to them.  Solve whatever issues you have, because someone like that doesn’t come around every day.”

Spencer sighed, “Look, I know you want me to sleep with them, or whatever, but that isn't going to happen.  It was never going to happen.”

“This isn’t about sleeping with them.  This is about being a good person.  I’ll see you around, kid.”

Like that, Morgan was gone, and Reid was alone.  He didn’t call you.  He didn’t apologize.  He just curled up in his bed and let himself decompose.  He told himself he was giving you space.  He was letting you process things.  Really, he was letting his own guilt swallow him.  He was drowning in bedsheets and sorrow, and he didn’t care about coming up for air.

When he went into work on Monday, you were nowhere to be found.  This was normal.  You didn’t hold any classes on Mondays.  Still, you had left things behind for him before- missing mugs, cans of creamed spinach, locks on all his cabinet doors.  That Monday, there was nothing.  There were no traces of you left behind.  You were haunting him.

He stopped by your office.  Obviously, you weren’t there.  The door was locked tight.  Reid still found himself trying to open it, trying to get into the small room that held so many parts of you inside of it.  You were haunting it.  You were haunting him.  

When he returned to his own office, he knocked his copy of Pride and Prejudice off the shelf.  He’d annotated it, reading it along with the articles you’d written on the topic.  He loved the way your mind worked.  He loved a lot of things about you.  And what had he done?  He’d hurt you.  On purpose.  And now, you were fucking haunting him.

And by the time his final class rolled around, Reid had resolved to do something about it.

-

You, on the other hand, were doing pretty good.  True, you had sobbed your eyes out as you’d pulled away from the bar.  The second Reid was out of sight, you had actually pulled over, deciding it wasn’t safe enough for you to drive in your emotionally volatile state.

You didn’t want to be upset about it.  You weren’t upset about what you had said.  You were right.  Kate Callahan had made some majorly fucked up jokes.  You had every goddamned right to be mad about that.

You also had every right to be pissed at what Reid said to you.  He had been so incredibly cruel, hitting you where he knew it would hurt most.  He’d called out your deepest insecurities.  He’d called you stupid, told you you were right to be insecure, and insulted your academic work in the span of five minutes.  You had every reason to hit the motherfucker with your car.

So why were you crying?  

Once you’d calmed yourself down enough to drive again, you headed straight to the nearest convenience store.  You had wine at home, and you weren’t going back to your apartment until you had enough ice cream on hand to kill a man.  

Maybe that’s what you would do.  Fuck pranks, you would just murder Reid by way of ice cream.  You weren’t sure how you would do that, but you wanted to.

You spent the rest of your night the way most people in your situation would- getting wine drunk, consuming ice cream, and watching terrible movies until you fell asleep.  Honestly, it wasn’t the worst way to spend an evening.  By the end of it, you felt significantly less shitty- you still felt stupid.  You would probably always feel stupid now that someone had looked at your deepest insecurities and confirmed them.  You felt better, though.  That was all you could ask for.

The next morning, you took some aspirin and threw yourself into your volunteer work- GEDs baby, GEDs all around.  While you wouldn’t teach in person until Monday, the weekend gave you ample time to answer emails from students, look over papers, and provide support to your students.  

Really, the job wasn’t too difficult.  You always got strange looks when you told people that you tutored former inmates out of the community center.  Honestly, it wasn’t that big a deal.  You just helped people learn in ways that actually worked for them.  Some people were visual learners, some were auditory learners.  Some preferred to analyze James Baldwin over Jane Austin, and others learned better when you described the plot of Pride and Prejudice as if it were a personal drama.  People really took to it when you called Darcy a pretty boy asshole with a secret heart of gold.  

By the end of your time with them, most of your students were ready to get their GEDs.  Those who weren’t came back to you for more help.  In other words, you were a good fucking teacher, even if you couldn’t see it.  

When Monday finally rolled around, you were ready to go.  You spent the day helping people achieve their full potential, watching people find new understandings of both themselves and their work.  You were happy.  You were content.  And Reid hadn’t called.  

You tried your best not to care.  He was a former Fed who thought he was in the right.  You shouldn’t care about him.  Still, it was a difficult task to pretend you weren’t a tiny bit hurt that he hadn’t reached out to talk to you.

And it was a task that became much easier when two of your former students popped in that evening, massive grins plastered across their faces.

“Hey, Dr. (L/N), guess who got GED-ed!!”

-

The community center was an older building, still suffering from the pink coat of paint the government had smothered it with in the 90s.  Since then, an update to the plumbing had been the only other remodelling the place had seen.

Spencer thought it was incredibly fitting that you spent your time off there.  Of course you spent your time off in a run-down community center helping people learn things.  You were awfully passionate about that.

He stood outside the building, in the parking lot, leaning against his car.  The sun had just slipped beyond the horizon, leaving the sky a dark blue before true darkness set in.  The lights from the building before him danced off the wet pavement.

Honestly, Spencer felt a little bit like a creep, watching people come and go.  He was trying to build up the courage to go and face you.  He would need it.  He knew there was no chance that you would see his face and instantly forgive him.  Honestly, it was more likely that you would throw something at him, and he would take it, because he fucked up and that’s what he deserved.

Spencer steeled himself, finally taking a step towards the community center when he felt something.  Someone was watching him.  He knew that feeling- the distorted tingling sensation of eyes on him.  He looked around.  The voyeur had to be around somewhere. 

He was right.  A few parking spots away, in a new-looking white car with a small dent near the passenger’s side door, a man sat staring at him.  Reid locked eyes with the guy, staring at him until finally, the man in the car turned the key in the ignition.  He didn’t break eye contact until he absolutely had to.

Spencer was thoroughly unsettled.

Oh well.  He had a job to do, and that job was apologizing to you.  (Besides, if this boy was capable of listening to his instincts, he wouldn’t have been kidnapped that one time.  He also wouldn’t have broken your heart.  Reid gets too much credit for being smart, I’m not gonna lie.)

He crossed the parking lot in a few strides and pushed open the doors.  The woman at the front desk had a smile on her face, and when he asked for you, she pointed him in your direction without question.

The lights in the hallway were fluorescent.  He wondered if you hated them.  He wondered if you brought lamps to whatever room you worked in.  It would sound crazy if it was anyone else, but you had sent a typewriter to his classes until he let his students use laptops.  You absolutely could take a lamp to your classes.  With you, Spencer didn’t know what to expect.

The door to your classroom was open.  He could see you smiling, a plastic cup in your hand.  You were talking to someone.  Your smile met your eyes.  

“Seriously, this is fucking amazing and I’m so proud of you both.  You should be proud of yourselves!”

Someone laughed, a woman, “Look at us.  Official accomplishments on official paper.  The last time I had one of those, I was getting out of prison.”

“The last time you had what, an accomplishment?” Another voice- a man’s voice- asked.

“No.  An official paper with my name on it.  Y’know, I’m pretty sure some of those prison dudes thought my name was fake.  Every time they had to read my full name, they would say it out loud- what’s so weird about Missy Marie?”

“Literally nothing.  Your name is excellent.  Don’t take it personally, prison guards are just like that.  I have beef with most of the guards I’ve met, I’ll be honest,” you gestured with your cup.

“I can’t imagine why,” the man replied.  Spencer could hear the guy’s smile in his voice.  He could see the smile on yours as you playfully smacked someone in the room.

“It’s because they suck!  It’s fine, though.  One day, they’ll have to call you Dr. Missy Marie.  Then they’ll be sorry.”

“Doc, do you know how much I’d have to pay to become a doctor?  I’m not interested in worrying about student loans for the rest of my life.”

“Fair enough- you could do it, though.  You’re a hard worker, you’re smart, and you have a brain for analysis.  And hey, most places have scholarships, awards, bursaries- I have a list of them if you ever want to look into it.”

The woman paused.  When she spoke again, her voice was a little quieter, but still confident, “I’ll think about it.”

A smile split across your face, blinding and bright, “Excellent.”

You were clearly at a high point- enjoying your night with your students, your friends.  Realization struck Spencer like lighting.  He never should have come here.  He should leave you alone- you were doing fine.  You didn’t need his apology right now.  You didn’t need the foul memory of what he’d said to you disrupting your evening.

He took a step back- and of course, you heard him, looked up, and scowled.  Your smile dropped from your face so fast, Spencer almost wondered if he had imagined it.

“(L/N), is everything okay?” the man asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Frank.  It’s just that fucking Fed.”

“Shit, the Feds are here!?”

“No, no, just that professor I told you about.”

“Ah.  That professor.”

You rolled your eyes and stood, placing your cup on the desk behind you and heading towards the door- towards Spencer.

“I’ll be right back.  Sit tight, guys.”

You shut the door behind you.  Then, you turned to face Spencer.

He didn’t know what to say.  You had never looked at him like this before- with such contempt.  Sure, you didn’t like him.  You didn’t like him for most of the time you’d known him.  But you’d never looked at him like he was a waste of space, a waste of your time.

“Just where do you get off?” you asked, voice low and heavy with rage, “You couldn’t wait until I came back to work to insult me?  You just had to come to my other job?  Well, go for it asshole.  I’m here.  Do your worst.”

Spencer remained silent, his lips parted slightly as he stared at you.  There was something broken in his expression, and even though he didn’t intend to do it, the motherfucker was hitting you with puppy-dog eyes.  

You wanted to smack those eyes right out of his fucking skull.  You were a little worried, during your ice cream and alcohol binge, that you would cry again upon seeing Reid’s face.  You were worried that you would see his pretty boy face and fold like something that folds easily.  You were terrified that you would just forgive him even though he didn’t deserve to be forgiven.

Clearly, that didn’t happen.

“I- I’m sorry,” he stuttered out.  You were unmoved.  Fucker couldn’t even apologize to you without tripping over his words.

“Fuck your sorry.  Get the fuck out of my classroom.”

“We’re not-” Reid cut himself off, “Look, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I want you to know that I was wrong.  I made a mistake, and I’m sorry.  You didn’t deserve that- any of it, and you were right.”

You glared at him for a second.  He was correct about a few things- he didn’t deserve your forgiveness.  He was in the wrong, you were right, and you didn’t deserve anything he said to you that night.

You still wanted to smack him.

So you did.

You smacked his arm with the sleeve of your sweater.  Then you smacked him with the other sleeve of your sweater.  He didn’t even raise a hand to defend himself, it was kinda pathetic.

“Fuck you,” you said with a smack, “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, go die.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” he whispered, keeping his voice so quiet that only you could hear him- and he had the AUDACITY to sound somewhat affectionate.  He was staring down with a look, one that would have told you he cared if you didn’t know better.  But you did.  You knew better, and Reid didn’t care about you.  Fucker.

“No.  No, Reid, what’s fair is me saying you’re a sad little fuck who went right for my deepest insecurities without a second thought like a damn child.  What’s fair is me calling you out for using your psychoanalytical bullshit to keep others away.  Like you’re scared of getting close to people.  What do you think is gonna happen, Reid?  Do you think people will stay, even if you treat them like garbage?”

He parted his lips to answer, but you didn’t give him a fraction of a chance.

“What’s fair is me informing you that they won’t.  When you treat people like garbage, they leave, and then you die alone, and what’s fair is me asking you to go die in a ditch so I never have to see your stupid fucking face again.”

That motherfucker looked so hurt and so guilty and you kind of wondered if you took it too far at the end there.  You carried on as if you weren’t wondering that, as if you didn’t feel bad about the kicked-puppy expression on his face.

“What’s fair is me telling you any of that shit.  But I won’t.  Because even though I’m just a stupid academic, I’m still a better person than you.”

You half expected him to fight you on it.  You expected him to protest, or correct your grammar, or do something stupid.  He didn’t.  He just nodded in understanding, like he agreed with you.  He looked at the floor, presumably in shame, and he said nothing.

You stood there, in that hallway illuminated by those terrible fucking fluorescents.  The buzz of those goddamned lights filled the air, mixing with the sound of your breathing.  You wondered if Reid could hear your heartbeat from where he stood.  You decided you didn’t care.

The silence grew to be too much.  Your throat was full of unspoken insults.  Your skin cackled with the electricity of everything you wanted to say- with everything you wanted to do.  

“Do you have anything else to say to me?”

Reid flinched at the sound of your voice.  He wouldn’t look you in the eye, not that you tried to make him.  He started to respond when Sheryl, the community center receptionist, came rushing down the hall.

“Dr. (L/N)- I think that white car is back.”

Immediately your expression shifted from one of anger to one of fear.  You were worried, and if you were worried, then Reid was worried.

“Fuck-” you took a step towards the woman from the front desk, “Is it him?”

“I didn’t see the plate number.”

You sucked in a breath through your teeth.

“Is it a newer model?  Dent in the passenger side door?”  Spencer asked.  When Sheryl nodded, Spencer repeated the entire plate number.

You looked at him with a mixture of confusion and contempt, but you didn’t waste any time on him.  

“Shit,” you growled, turning quickly to open the door, “Missy, do you have anyone to walk you back to your car?”

“We took the bus-”

“Cool.  You aren’t taking the bus home, I’ll give you a ride.  I’ll give you both rides.”

“What’s going on, doc?”

You sighed, hands flexing and curling to fists at your sides, “Jason’s outside.”

“Shit.”

“What’s going on?” Reid asked, his brows furrowed as his voice filled with concern, “Do you need help?”

“It’s none of your business, Reid.”

The door opened behind you, and Reid finally got a look at the people you’d been talking to.  The woman, Missy, was on the skinny side with light brown skin and long black hair.  The man behind her, Frank, was big and bulky- in other words, he had muscles for days.  His dark hair had been cropped short, but he was clearly working on growing it out.  Both Missy and Frank looked at Reid with a mix of curiosity and disappointment.

“That’s him, doc?”

You looked between Missy and Reid quickly- when you spoke, your words came even faster, “Yeah.  That’s him, that’s the shit-licking asshole Fed.”

Sheryl covered her mouth with her hand, muffling her gasp at your apparent audacity.

“Sorry,” you apologized, though the apology was clearly addressed to Sheryl and not to Reid, “That’s the fucking Fed.”

Reid shook off the insult.  Missy and Frank both frowned.  The former leaned towards you, whispering in your ear (though Reid could still hear her.)

“That’s not what you said last week.”

You rolled your eyes and gestured at the hallway, towards the exit, “Come on, guys.  Let’s go.”

“(Y/N), if someone on the property is a threat to you-”

You turned on him, eyes flashing as your lips curled into a sneer, “If you tell me to call the fucking cops, I swear to god.”

Reid paused, trying to pretend he wasn’t about to suggest that exact thing, “I- I was going to ask if I could walk you out.”

Frank looked unimpressed, unsure if Reid could actually do anything against a threat.  Missy seemed more sure of his skills.  You wanted Reid to fuck off.

“I have a taser.”  

Missy leaned forward towards you.  She nudged your arm and whispered, “Hey, safety in numbers.”  Again, her voice was loud enough for Reid to hear.

You sighed, shutting your eyes and groaning out a, “Fine.  He can come.”

Missy smiled at Reid, and he gave her one of those awkward closed-lip grins in return.  You were not charmed by this, but Missy was- at least a little bit.

You headed down the hallway, not stopping to wait for the others until you got to the front door.  When you looked out into the parking lot, you couldn’t see Jason’s car.  That didn’t mean he wasn’t waiting out there.  

You nodded at Sheryl as she returned to the front desk before looking back at the group.  Missy had tucked herself between Reid and Frank- and you couldn’t blame her, honestly.  Her asshole ex was out there, and Frank was buff as hell, and Reid was, at the very least, tall.  You couldn’t stand Reid right now, but you knew, at the very least, that he would try to keep Missy safe.

The trip to your car was uneventful.  Missy and Frank slid into the back seat.  You and Reid were left standing outside the vehicle, exposed and in the open.

You didn’t look at each other.  As you reached for the door handle, Reid stopped you, opening his stupid mouth again.

“I’m sorry.”

You kept your eyes on the car, “I know.”

“I was wrong.”

“I know.”

He paused.  Silence fell.  You coughed.

“Can I have my mugs back?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Okay.”

Missy pushed open her car door.  She said nothing, but she did give you a pointed look.  You visibly sighed, slumping over the driver’s side door until your chin could rest on the roof.

“Fine,” you hissed, “Come to my office if you want them back.  End of the day.  Don’t come a minute sooner or I’ll stab you to death with mug shards.”

“Understood.”

“Good.”

You pulled over your car door.  He told you to drive safely.  You wanted to drive over him.  You didn’t.  You drove out of the parking lot and down the street in silence.

Behind you, Frank let out a long, slow whistle.

“So,” Missy tapped her fingers against the window, “Your attitude towards him changed.”

“Did it?  I didn’t notice.”

“It did, doc,” Frank picked up where Missy left off, “Last week you liked him.”

“I did not like him.  I despised him.”

“No, you despise him now.  Last week you were trying to get his attention.”

“I was not!” your cheeks caught fire, “If I wanted his attention I would have it.”

“Doc,” Missy laughed, “You do have his attention.”

And she wasn’t wrong.  You certainly had the attention of one Spencer Reid.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie

[soullessdianthus]

𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 | 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 (comfort/fluff)

READ THE FIRST PART HERE ⟶ 𝕏

Summary: Basically some sneaking out with your Lt, because he had been worried about you. :( What could go wrong? Y/N ━ your name

Word count: 4k

It wasn’t easy going back to the everyday routine, to the schedule you did for yourself and religiously followed day after day. Even though you had the strength to get out of a warm bed, participate in tedious training and spend time with your friends in the cafeteria you were still not allowed to participate in a mission. 

Obviously you were allowed back in the gym after your body healed and regained strength, although some may have suggested it was still too early. Some green and yellow bruises visible under the hem of your shirt, soreness in muscles slowly fading away. 

But it was the hand that hurt the most and healed the longest. You found out the hard way during a sparring session with Omen, when he blocked your punch with his forearm and then the blunt pain made your mind go numb. Captain Price was right – your soul and your body were not ready for a mission. 

— It takes time to properly heal a bone, kid. Take it easy. — He tried to suggest, but it only left you infuriated. 

You have never asked for a time off, you never asked for this. Price was right, it takes fucking weeks to regenerate a bone structure. If you hadn’t taken a strong painkiller before bed since the interrogation, the night would be sleepless as the healing process was uncomfortable. 

Being stuck in the base made you feel useless, especially when your lieutenant and friends were being constantly deployed somewhere, leaving you alone with the unpleasant memories regarding Shadow Company.

Soon after their departure your name was cleared out with the help of Kate Laswell. You wished to never see the bastard responsible for your beating again or nowhere near you. Graves never tried to apologize or reach you again, but his presence around the base made you succumb to the four walls of women's barracks all day long. 

Like a coward.

It might have been the first time in your lifetime, when you found a person to be so repellent. Thing was, that the whole grief or disgust you were carrying was about the commander's perverted innuendos.

Since the beginning you had a feeling something was off about his cocky attitude. Something more than just shitty pick up lines. It was about Graves overall, but you decided to blame it on your prejudice toward men. 

You should have listened to your intuition and refused to walk with Phillip that day. You really should have and now you’re suffering the consequences. 

The painful sorrow echoed in your ears almost all the time, bringing pathetic tears to your waterline. Hiding them became more complicated than before. 

And little did you know, such a small and “unimportant” detail wasn’t overlooked by your superior. Ghost’s eyes swallowed by the darkness noticed each single thing, especially when it came to you. How your brassy smile faded and how your brows were no longer furrowed in full concentration. You changed. 

Despite the injuries, your form wasn’t lacking – while one of your hands was healing you mastered knife throwing with the other. You still participated in daily training and gatherings, so Lieutenant Riley felt entitled to keep you in line and in one piece.

— That’s enough for today, Y/N. — The calm yet resolute voice of the lieutenant stopped your training with your partner, Omen. The same man who came to the lieutenant's office, alarmed by your disappearance after the operation regarding weapon trafficking.

— But I’m fine, sir. I can continue.

But the mountain of a man stood unmoved and stoic, doubting your reply. Nonetheless, Ghost was glad that your voice stayed the same – fiery yet sugary. A sweet little burden on his mind, giving him sleepless nights. 

— Go change your bandages, they’re bloodied. You’ve broken a stitch, again. 

— Fuck. — A quiet curse left your lips as you inspected the crimson patch over the bandages wrapped around your forearm. You knew you were going to get lectured by the doctor once more. 

— If that keep happenin’ they might stop patchin’ you up, you know that? 

— Take some rest, it will heal quicker. — Comrade Omen stated, placing his sweat covered hand over your stiff shoulder.

— I don’t need your pity too — you almost hissed at his friendly gesture, reflecting on your own words immediately. You exhaled slowly, trying to relax your muscles, before apologizing for your defensive response. — Sorry. 

— He’s right, take a break — upon seeing the ongoing conflict in you, Ghost glanced through his mask with a cold gaze. — It’s an order, soldier. 

You rolled your eyes like a rebellious youngster before heading towards the locker room, leaving the two men behind. 

The last thing you wanted the lieutenant to think about you was that you were weak. You were far from that and he knew it perfectly – you were as stubborn as he, yet much better than Simon. At least in his opinion. 

He, contrary to you, brutalized and hardened his body through the years, leaving his flesh scarred and coarse. Simon didn’t want it to happen to you too. To see your young, soft skin turn into a bumpy piece of leather would be a disaster indeed. 

However you still felt like you needed to prove yourself – before Ghost or Captain Price. You wanted to be valued and your current state, which was Graves’ fault, was slowing you down. You have never asked for a special treatment. 

It felt like your own body was sabotaging you, acting against your own will. 

Agitated, you closed the door to the locker room behind your back, before slumping down on the wooden bench in the middle of the alley. You hid your face in your hands, before trying to gather thoughts. 

You were fucking infuriated at yourself for breaking down in his arms that night, when Ghost along with Captain Price came along to your rescue. You were so tired then that you weren’t fully yourself – controlling, keeping everything organized and composed. 

Keeping feelings locked, both unpleasant and those more… complicated. 

You dared to show him your vulnerability and now he thought of you as something fragile. Worse, someone not suitable for his squad. 

If you hadn’t stood your ground, he would have already kicked you out, right? There was no place for frailty under his command – under Simon Riley’s supervision, a legend of the shell of a man, closer to the cold blooded murderer than a lenient lieutenant. 

Yet, you found comfort within his warm embrace that night, feeling safe for the first time in a while. His care of you seemed genuine. 

But why? You were just a private, a rookie. 

Maybe Ghost wasn’t as stern as they said? Perhaps his heart wasn’t made of ice. 

It has been another sleepless night since the doctor cut off your medication as in his opinion you should rest with no issue now. Well, the doc was utterly wrong.

You trashed between the sheets in your bed, while your other roommates were long gone in their dreams. Despite almost all of your injuries being healed, everything hurt. You found the sensation close to the soreness in your tibia when you were growing up. 

There were things left unclear, an anger you have been bearing, because of your lieutenant. Ghost must have thought very poorly of you if he softened just because you have been interrogated and blood was spilled. 

Fuck, you must have looked pathetic in his eyes. 

You needed to talk to him about… all of this or else you wouldn’t find peace. But right then, you needed fresh air – a cold breeze upon your flushed cheeks. You decided to break the curfew, risking a punishment, just to sneak outside for a moment.

You silently jumped out of the bed and put on clean cargo pants and a fleece jacket. Thankfully the hallways were empty by the night time and you managed to reach the doors on the back of the base building.

Your slow and relaxed exhale was interrupted by a sudden hoarse voice echoing from the darkness. 

— Goin’ somewhere? 

— JesusfuckingChrist — you said during one, sharp inhale. One of your hands shot right to your chest, grasping the fleece material tightly. — Scared me, Lt. 

— Not the first time, eh? 

Only when Ghost took a drag of his cigarette, the burning tobacco underlined the features of his bare jaw – pale skin covered in few scars and a stubble blonde rash. Lips pouted, sucking on the cigarette’s filter. The man rolled his balaclava over the tip of his slightly bumpy nose for the first time in your presence and you did your best to remain normal about it. 

Fuck, did he uncover his face so casually around anybody else? 

— You’re smoking? This late? — You tried to sustain the small talk in order to hide your confusion. 

— Want one? 

He proposed and you hesitated. For a moment you wanted to accept the offering. 

— No, thanks. I don’t like the smell of cigarettes on my hands.

— Then what are you doin’ outside? It’s past your bedtime, Y/N. 

“Cheeky bastard”, you thought to yourself at his stupid comment, your jaw parting slightly open in an offended manner. You wiped your sleepy face with a hand, before slouching slightly into your palm. 

— Just… I needed to get out of there and breathe. Couldn’t sleep.

Ghost hummed intrigued, before throwing the burned out smoke to the ground and crushing it with the sole of his shoe. He detached from the wall, he was leaning upon and started walking in your direction. The mask was again covering his face. 

— I might have a remedy for that. 

Curiosity was probably your biggest vice that someday might be your doom. But in that moment, something made you follow the lieutenant through the field cloaked in darkness.

You had to speed up to catch up with his massive steps, but when you did, a subtle smile appeared on your lips. Both of you broke the curfew and of course, his punishment would be way less severe than yours (if he even would suffer the consequences). But the same thrill of it, made your heart beat faster. 

— Are we going to do something mischievous? — You asked in full curiosity, keeping your head straight. 

— Thought you like stayin’ out of trouble.

— I do — you partially agreed — usually. 

An even wider grin twisted your cheeks, exposing some of your teeth. Ghost discreetly took a glimpse at you, though you didn’t notice due to the hood covering his head. 

— You’re up to something, Y/N?

— A thing or two.

He hummed, before responding.  

— Should I worry? 

— Of course no, sir. 

The man chuckled. Barely audible, but he did and he couldn’t deny it. It might have been the first time you heard him behaving so casually. 

After a short walk you reached the parking lot and only then you began understanding what his “remedy” was. Ghost opened the passenger’s door and with a theatrical gesture invited you inside. 

Your eyes crossed with his for a moment, searching for… what? You couldn’t let your imagination too loose, the naive and stupid thoughts that were gathering inside your own head had to be gone. Immediately. 

— Where’re going? — A simple question was asked, when he started the engine of the vehicle. 

— That’s classified. 

— Very funny. Got another? 

You satirically asked, your face staying calm and unbothered. Maybe slightly frustrated, but that’s exactly what he wanted to pull from his subordinate. He took a sick pleasure in toying with you like that. 

— Plenty. What does the Loch Ness monster eat? — Ghost said in a stoic manner, while you  lifted your brow in anticipation. — Fish and ships. 

There was a moment of complete silence, before you laughed out loud. The joke was utterly bad and dry, yet somewhat funny.

But the truth was he brightened up your mood even if only a little, it has taken the burden off your shoulders.

— Saving those for later or what?

— Aye, special occasions. 

Involuntarily your cheeks flustered as you could feel the warmth spreading over your face. Thank God it was dark, but still – afraid of getting caught, you turned your head toward the window. Even if you didn’t see a single thing outside. 

Ghost stopped near the guard’s post to identify himself. And well, you too. The warden said nothing and let the two of you pass to the road leading outside of the base. 

— Uhm, sir? — You spoke out as soon as he rolled up the window. — Won’t they report that we… sneaked out?

— Don’t worry about that. 

The ride was calm and silent. The radio was turned off and since he didn't share how long your voyage would last, you got comfortable in a passenger’s seat, leaning over the doors. 

Then, something broke the mind numbing silence with a short whisper.

— Simon.

— What?

— You keep callin’ me “sir”, it makes me feel ol’. You can address me by that instead. — He explained.

— Just in the privacy of our conversations?

— Positive. 

— Now, that seems fair. You know my name for far longer, but you just adore staying mysterious, do you? 

— Mhm. And deadly. 

He kept focusing on the road ahead for a couple more minutes, a quarter perhaps. Quickly you became sleepy, body snuggled in the corner of the cabin – the rocking of the car and the scent of Simon’s cologne lulling you to sleep. 

It was strange, not so long ago you couldn’t rest in the bunker’s bed and now, curled up in a moving vehicle? He surely had to put some spell on you. Otherwise, you would never let your guard down. 

If not for him continuing the conversation, you would surely fall asleep right there and then. 

— Wanna ask you a question, Y/N, but need you to answer truthfully. 

— That’s kind of insulting for you to assume I would lie, Lt. 

— It’s more of a proposition really — Ghost’s whole arms jolted as he changed the gear, the damn machine was old and cranky. — You wanna talk about what happened? 

You knew perfectly well what he was asking about – “the Shadows” incident that happened nearly three weeks ago. For a brief moment, a minute perhaps, you were infuriated. 

“Oh, so that’s what it is about”, you thought disappointed to yourself. Disappointed, but why? What were your expectations of this late night drive with your lieutenant?

Surely the severe beating from Graves’ boys gave you a concussion if you dared to think about something more regarding your lieutenant. Especially to the infamous soldier Ghost. 

But the truth was, you took a liking to him earlier than the interrogation took place – it wasn't the fault of a head injury, you were just a naive, stupid girl. 

You took a deep breath in and out, gluing your eyes to the glass window on your left, shielding yourself from his sight. 

— I was… terrified, after what happened — you started explaining slowly, feeling as if the car had stopped and the engine was turned off — I don’t know why, but the beating and bruises weren’t the worst part. He scared me.

— He threatened you. 

— In a way that… extracted primal fear. Fuck — you slowly turned your head in his direction, to see Ghost was listening carefully all this time — do you know, what I mean? I–

— I understand. Such interrogations are purely based on psychological torture. But that’s not the reason you’ve been acting strange.

— What do you mean, “strange”?

Now you have begun to feel truly offended.

— Wanna play silly now, Y/N? You’re better than that. 

— Fine — you snorted, the bridge of your nose slightly frowning — I don’t like your special treatment. In this field people get hurt, you know that. I’m not a cripple. 

— Never said you are.

— Then why do you keep sending me away? 

— Because you’re stupid enough to keep pushin’ yourself until you bleed instead of properly healing. Wounded soldier is a dead weight. 

This time he sounded meaner, almost like he was reprimanding you for your effort to be a valuable soldier. To him, you were behaving irresponsible. 

— I temper myself to reach your fucking standards. — You raised your voice for the first time this evening and quickly remembered who you were talking to, your lieutenant. You were on the verge of losing everything you have been working for. Would he be willing to remove you from his team? The panic overwhelmed your senses, you couldn’t breathe. — I need air. 

You pushed the doors open and jumped out of the car, circling it before stopping near the mask. Ghost got out too and slowly walked over like a vulture following his next meal. 

— Since when do you care so much about others' opinions, hm? 

But you stayed silent, probably thinking too much. He knew you were very cautious with your responses, but he wanted to hear the unfiltered truth. So Simon kept pushing. 

— I asked you a question. 

He stepped closer, cornering you between him and the mask of the car. It was hard to notice any switches in his gaze only illuminated by moonlight, his skull mask successively casted a shadow over his eye sockets. Ghost took a step forward and you one back – your fiery eyes finally noticing something eerie in his dark globs. 

— I don’t care what others say about me. 

— No? Then why do you try so hard to impress me? 

The masked man took another step in your direction, causing you to bump into the car’s mask with your thighs and ass.

— Because you’re my lieutenant. 

— Is that so?

Ghost’s hoarse, deep voice caused you to feel the vibrations of his voice in your body.

He leaned impossibly close, slowly placing his hands on both sides of you, physically caging you between his arms and a vehicle. You had to turn your head slightly to the side in order not to bump into his mask. 

Fuck you could feel his warm breath on your neck. 

— Y–Yes.

— That didn’t sound convincin’ enough. 

You looked down, slightly ashamed of your incompetence at that moment, cheeks flushed pink. It only took Simon to come closer to you, to strip you of the ability to talk back. 

— When you joined my team, I didn’t think you’d be difficult. I was wrong, everythin’ about you was a hassle. You’ve been a burden on my mind, girl. And now, look at you – jumpin’ ‘round me, tryin’ to fall back into my favor. Does an average soldier do things like this? 

Now that he put it that way… You began revaluing your priorities. Was your little crush that obvious? 

One of his hands began caressing your hip in a soothing motion. If he wanted to, Ghost could pin you down with the force he carried. Yet, the gentle giant was trying to persuade you to talk. 

— N–No. 

— No — he repeated with a much gentler gaze. — Then why do you care about my opinion so much? 

— I didn't want you to think I’m weak. But lately… — your sweet voice broke down, the shame washing over you as you finally confessed. — I’m a pathetic disaster, because I took your offer for comfort and now you’re taking me for someone…

But before you finished, he cut you off. 

— I offered you support, because I understand what you’ve been through.

— I felt humiliated — you hesitated for a moment, before finally letting the emotions flow through your veins. Hot blood made you feel lightheaded, but at the same time adrenaline gave you strength to keep confessing  — because I like you, Simon. And you saw me… like that. 

Ghost exhaled loudly, his shoulders dropping. 

— Always so tough, aren’t you? Come ‘ere. 

Without any warning, his huge palm sneaked to the back of your head and pulled you into his chest. Your cheek was pressed tight against his fleece jacket, heat radiating through the layers. 

You found the act… soothing. Squeezed by Ghost’s arms, providing you with a feeling of security and being taken care of. How could you deny his touch, his help or kind words? 

— You’re always comforting soldiers like this? 

You lifted your head to look at him and carefully assess his reaction. From this close, you could see his eyes clearly and what hid behind them.

— Only if they’re called Y/N. 

But what he was about to do, would leave you flabbergasted.

Ghost rolled his balaclava up his nose again and leaned over your pretty face. Although his lips were scarred and you expected them to be harsh, they were nothing like that. Soft, slightly wet tissue brushed over your parted lips, teasing slightly before finally kissing you. 

One of his hands kept your head steady, the other caging your body to his. You managed to sneak your own palm, smaller and more slender than his, to Simon’s jaw and touch it tenderly. 

His mouth worked wonders on stealing your breath, causing your muscles to finally relax. Ghost lightly pulled on your lower lip, toying with it for a moment. You had a feeling that he might even bite down just to draw a little bit of blood. 

A crimson he was bathed in, the sins he had on his guilt. Who could have thought that such a distant and cold shell of a man was hiding “Simon” beneath? 

Gentle, caring Simon who fell in love with you. 

The sweet tension coiled in your belly, thighs begging for some friction. Your whole body clung to his broad form and you giggled between the kisses. 

— What? — He asked, looking at you with a spark in his eyes. 

— You’ve gone soft, Lt. Ghosts are supposed to be terrifying. 

— Mhm. And you’re supposed to be in bed at this time. 

This time it was you, who pulled the other into another hungry kiss. Your cold hand sneaked lower, under his underlined jaw and down his strong neck, so you could nuzzle your fingers between his skin and jacket.

— Will you take me to yours, Lt? — You teased shamelessly, quietly whispering into his mouth as your eyelashes fluttered. A sense of fulfillment rushed through you, when Simon finally proved to you that he cared as much as you did. 

— Playin’ a dangerous game, Y/N.

Ghost kept playing with the strands of your hair that poured through his fingers. With the other arm he kept you close, soaking up the faint moment, an intimacy with you.

Blonde man precisely felt the curves of your chest clinging closely to his broad chest. Your lungs were filling and emptying at the same rhythm. He couldn’t stop staring at your beautiful eyes, stars reflecting in their pupils. 

Simon Riley knew he shouldn’t get attached to anyone – he was a soldier and life was cruel for people like you two. But when he held you in his arms, breathing so softly, Simon wasn’t regretful. 

Not a single fucking bit. 

He finally had found you.

[ntls-24722]

The Founding of Serendipolis

The very first tri-species society was founded on a truce to kill this one zebraman who managed to piss off all of the villages in his vicinity in ONE afternoon

As legend goes, there was a Zebraman named "Serendipus" (english translation, his name becomes the homo mousike word for "serendipity" much like how Narcissus became "narcissist") whose story can be summed up as "if the protagonists in an action movie's chase scene got consequences." He made his fatal mistake stealing from a lone zebraelf, and when he was confronted, he kicked the zebraelf and ran.

Of course, with the zebraelves' community, that one zebraelf came for him with reinforcements, and while fleeing, Serendipus wreaked havoc and destruction in his path while he ran through his village - trampling everyone's crops, destroying random booths, and knocking over Cloe aviaries in the hopes of stopping the relentless zebraelves after him.

He found himself at the outskirts of his village and ran for shelter in a Debu cave... in the middle of a funeral. If screaming at the deceased's corpse wasn't disrespectful enough, knocking over a pot of oil and starting a fire when Serendipus was fleeing sure was!

With nowhere else to go, Serendipus tried going home now that he had evaded the Zebraelves, but his fellow zebramen didn't want him back either, for obvious reasons - So the exiled Serendipus had to take to the wilderness on his own. But the zebraelves and debu hadn't gotten payment for their grievances, and neither did any of the zebramen who were in Serendipus's path of destruction.

The 3 neighboring species overcame language barriers, prejudices, and even past grudges all for the sake of finding and KILLING serendipus together, tracking him down like bloodhounds on a scent and turning him into red mist when they found him.

Though, after that experience, the truce never... ended. Interspecies bonds had been made between the new generations and after a few years, the three neighboring societies merged into one, becoming the wealthiest city in all of their times.

At the very center of this city, there is this circular relief carved of Serendipus with his everything broken after they finally found the fucker much that is much the Coyolxauhqui stone. Despite their mutual hatred, they do admit they never would've gotten together if it weren't for his negligence, and quite frankly, they all could admit he was fun to disembowel.

[saintsenara]

I’ve never really been able to get behind the headcanon that turns up in a lot in fic that Mr and Mrs Evans and their home were to baby Snape what Molly and Arthur and the Burrow were to Harry. A respite relative to Tobias and the whip, sure…but Petunia’s instant prejudice didn’t come from nowhere! She’d have been what, 11? Your interpretation that their family dynamics boiled down to the narcissism of small differences makes a lot of puzzle pieces click into place.

thank you very much for the message, anon!

and i completely agree - i've never liked that headcanon either. so much of the course snape's life takes - very much like voldemort's - depends so inherently on being an outsider looking in, on being able to vanish through the cracks left by institutional failings, and on being overlooked by so many people that he becomes dangerously susceptible to those who do notice him. it seems very implausible to me that he could have been radicalised in the way he was if he'd seen the evanses' house as a safe-haven from his abusive home.

what i can imagine, though, is that mr and mrs evans found him sort of exotic and interesting - in line with their canonical excitement when it came to lily's magic - but in a way which still kept him at arm's length.

this is to do with class - obviously. i can't imagine mrs evans would be thrilled about having snape in her nice house looking so dirty and poor - what would the neighbours say!

but it's also to do with race and ethnicity. i think it's worth pointing out that the description of how snape looks - both physically and in terms of how he's dressed and groomed - as a child overlaps so much with offensive stereotypes that might be used within settled communities in britain and ireland to talk about gypsy [a term which is used by these groups themselves within britain and ireland - i am aware that this isn't the case everywhere], roma, and traveller communities.

prejudice against gypsy, roma, and traveller people is collosal - and families like the evanses, who would be particularly invested in the idea of themselves as "law-abiding" and "respectable" would be particularly susceptible to it. snape being excluded from the house - so that the evanses never had to risk the neighbours thinking they'd let one of them in [whether snape actually has gypsy, roma, or traveller heritage or not - the perception is what the evanses are bothered about] - seems very plausible to me.

and the combined bigotries of classism and racism we can assume would impact how the evanses saw snape, also weave really interestingly into superstitions about magic.

there's so much folklore in britain and [especially] ireland about not letting fae folk into your house [similar to folklore elsewhere in europe about not inviting vampires in] - and i love the idea of this combining with the evanses' more everyday prejudices into an unwillingness to let snape across the threshold, and for him to spend the six or so years he seems to be friends with lily skulking at the bottom of the front garden.

ready to be corrupted when lord voldemort asks him inside.

[the snapes vs the evanses as the narcissism of small differences is here]

[mdhwrites]

Have you seen the leaked TOH pilot and pitch bible yet? IMO it’s crazy how most of it is better than the final product.

I have! And... I don't know if I entirely agree with that.

What I found most fascinating about it is that a lot of the contradictions and issues of scope with TOH that doomed it are still in the pitch bible itself. Just some quick examples of what I'm talking about: When talking about themes, they talk about Fantasy versus Reality but it's as shallow as it is in the show. After all, one of the episode concepts pitched within it features a plot that has Luz literally going "This is just like in my fanfiction!" and being better able to handle it because of that.

It builds up the emperor of the land and Belos (known as Oberon) when talking about them but NONE of the plotlines include Oberon in the episode pitches or even mention the coven system for that matter. They are still barely a thing to the show with the only episode concept about that part of the show being the one about William.

An utter lack of real stakes like how King has to face the deep crises of a decision of either being a lackey to the people he used to run with while also losing any chance to ever reclaim his lost power... Or he can save Eda and Luz and lose the chance to work with these people again. That's not really a compelling decision, is it?

The pitch also claims that the show will mostly be about Luz and Eda's relationship and how Luz's determination will push Eda to be a better person... And most of the episodes pitched are still not actually about the two spending time together. Just Eda making Luz upset so she goes off to do her own thing, just like the same problem as in the actual series.

You actually have MORE characters in this version which sucks harder for trying to narrow things down, especially since more of them are disconnected from each other than before. At least Boscha, unlike Pascha, has a connection to literally anyone in the main cast.

You also have stupidity with your magic still. "Look! I need to work hard to make small objects float!" And apparently that's enough to make all of Hexside lose their fucking minds. WHY!? In 90% of settings, that is as basic as the light spell Luz learns. It's why it's one of the first spells Harry learns.

Oh and let's not forget "Almost all known portals to the human realm have been severed" but apparently Amity has access to one of those known portals freely enough to attend two schools. It's a small thing but it would cause problems in theory.

BUT.

I will give credit to this: Luz is MUCH more compelling in this version. I think if there is something that is just unequivocally true, it's that. She is way less inoffensively nerdy, instead her interests being more upfront and troublesome, helping explain why that would be why she is rejected and not because, you know, she puts people in danger. Also her rise to power is just better.

Arguably, Luz in canon is a chosen one essentially from episode FOUR onwards. Now, this is up for debate but being given a power almost out of nowhere, with no training, that no one else has, is usually a sign of a chosen in a narrative. Episode 4 is when she gets the light glyph. She doesn't work for it, it's not a big character growth moment, etc. like that. She mostly just oops into it. Making it that Luz ACTUALLY has to work for her magic and the show actually has to explore how the magic works, making it so she has something to learn is just strictly better, especially for the concept of her learning to be a witch. Eda would actually be able to teach her something instead of shrugging and going "Welp, good luck!"

I will say that the bible does also lean more into an adventurous aspect though. This version of episodes would easily be more fantastical and include more magic in them which would help the Isles not feel so much like our realm. I will say the fact that there's also active anti-human prejudice also would be good because then Luz being human would, you know... Matter. Not that the Isles is really given a personality even here besides the oppression they're theoretically under. It's still a very generic fantasy setting.

A lot of the rest though? It's really not that unique or different from the show itself. Lilith is almost exactly the same, Tibbles is just Gus but a demon, there are slightly more restrictions on things like being human or magic but, you know, the show didn't care about its one law, why would it care about three? Even Amity, who does look better on here, is only because it's on paper. This is literally just Amity's pitch in S1 after all. All the reasons people loved Amity are here.

Conceptually it is fine but I am surprised about how not only this got picked up but also how it was greenlit so heavily as to get a pilot animatic, with voice acting, based on these concepts. There's just some very clear cleaning up that needs to be done, basic questions on its own setting and own logic that isn't even playing into the comedy/fantasy angles that could let you let it pass. It's not all of them or even the majority but a skeptical prereader could even raise these basic sorts of inconsistencies like the ones I brought up above. After all, this is half a season's worth of episodes pitched and a fifth of them are still going to Amity and more of them have Luz directly interacting with King than they do Eda.

There's a final thing I have to bring up due to it being why I think the show changed so drastically from this pitch bible to its final form: This is way more complicated. TOH already has extremely decompressed storytelling and too many elements working in tandem. Meanwhile, every character is MORE complicated in this one and less connected to each other, necessitating that each, except maybe Eda, will take more time to get through their stuff. The writing team either had to sharpen how much they could do in an episode or simplify and congregate elements. We see this a LOOOOT in S2A, especially Escaping Expulsion, where it seems the writers went "Even with three whole seasons planned, we don't have enough time to do everything we want to, the way we like to, so we need to start cutting and simplifying even more than before."

One example of this that's really easy: In the pitch bible, Willow is a random witch who lives near Eda. Well that means she'll likely either take time out of a couple episodes as she's introduced or take up an entire episode just for herself. Tibbles is also just on their own, like in the show. Introducing both of these characters is not really an option. However, put them both into Hexside and suddenly you can introduce three characters at the same time organically, like we saw with I Was a Teenage Abomination.

Luz just being gifted magic is another element to this. Her having to actually experiment for every spell and having to have a real system to her spells limits what she can do but also means spending a LOT more time on her magic. You can't just have a flower open up and give her the glyph of the day as easily, nor have her be able to throw her spells around as she wants. Making it so she just needs reams of paper and/or a marker makes it a lot easier and simpler to have her start casting magic.

This version of TOH would have SHATTERED under its own scope while the current version mostly bends and cracks from it. However, if people do use this to go "FUCK DISNEY EVEN HARDER!" I won't be surprised. Grand scope ALWAYS looks better on paper than it does in action. It sounds epic and multi-faceted and complex. The problem is that it still has to fit its format and it is MUCH harder to execute on than a more simple concept.

There's a reason the only perfect project is the one you never do because you can promise the world without ever having to deliver. So, while it's nice to see an earlier version, I am by no means going to say this would have been a better version of TOH.

======+++++======

Sorry for anyone hoping for a link to the pitch bible btw. I just don't have one as I got given it as a document.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[nottawriter]

Fanfic Writer Questions!

Thanks for the tag, @fazedlight and @thatonebirdwrites

1- How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 16

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

356,960

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Supergirl – Arrowverse/ DC Comics: Primarily Supercorp, secondarily Dansen, Brainia, and J’M’zz, and I have one AgentReign with secondary Supercorp.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

PRIDE and Prejudice – Super gay retelling of Jane Austen’s classic. Every kudos equals $1.00US to a LGBTQIA2S charity I make at the conclusion of Pride month (June) each year (teen)

Tell Me It’s Not Too Late – Post-S4, Lillian believes Supergirl is responsible for Lex’s death. Lena rushes to J’onn’s for game night, to confront Kara on her identity, only to find she’s nowhere to be found (teen)

I Believe in a Thing Called Love – Full alternate Season 6 rewrite (teen)

Wouldn’t It Be Nice – 50 First Dates movie AU (teen)

How Lost We Are – Lena is placed by her Witness Protection team (Maggie, Kelly, and Lucy) in Midvale as a flower shop owner where she meets teacher Kara and coffee/bookshop owner Jess, among others (mature)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes, I do usually respond, though not always right away. I enjoy chatting about my fics, so don’t hesitate to ask questions, but I don’t give out spoilers though.  

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

When She’s Gone, the Darkness Comes – Oof. It was so sad I had to write a second chapter. I much prefer happy endings (teen)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them have a happy ending of some kind, or they will once they’re completed. Though there are some with happy endings like Speak Now and Tis the Damn Season. Smut. I’m talking about smut (explicit)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yeah, though I’ve been mostly lucky. I don’t know why people leave hate on any fics really. If you don’t like something, close the tab.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. It started as a small scene here or there when it was a natural progression of the fic, but now I occasionally right full smut fics and pwp like those found here (explicit)

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Kind of, but the characters are all from within the Arrowverse/ DC Comics universes somewhere.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. I don't understand why someone would do this. Please respect writers.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes. I Believe in a Thing Called Love is also in Spanish Creo en una cosa llamada amor (teen)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I’m currently working on one with @thatonebirdwrites, though it's not published. It’s a Supercorp fic where Kara is a building inspector and when she goes to inspect Lena’s home, she meets Lena’s daughter to tells her the floor is lava, so naturally Kara has to ensure that issue gets resolved.  

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

Supercorp. But I do love most wlw ships

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I intent to finish all of my active WIPs. I have some WIP ideas that may or may not ever get going, but once I start a fic, I intend to finish it.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I have no idea… I guess easter egg type stuff or like blending canon into storylines. If your a reader and there's something you think is a strength I have, let me know.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Actually writing. Words be hard. And it's hard to find the time.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I do it sometimes, probably not well. I like to include the translation in the fic (unless the characters themselves aren’t supposed to understand until later). But I'm sure the translations aren't fully right as I only use google translate and the Kryptonian dictionary.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Supercorp. I started writing fiction in Dec 2020. Before that it was all scientific research papers for uni.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I suppose What Has Been Lost (Mature). It was what started this crazy adventure, has been the most challenging piece, and my longest (still ongoing). It truly blends lore and characters from across the Arrowverse and DC Comics into a human world and original storyline.

For Tags, if you'd like to participate: @fyonahmacnally @casualsavant @luthordamnvers @itsalliebitheway @innamorament0

[sitp-recs]

my most dearest Liv, I am so grateful for your existence upon this platform. thank you for running this gem of a blog.

I sincerely hope you’ll forgive me for this annoyance but I was hoping you could recommend fics with a draco that secretly loves physical intimacy and doesn’t shy from it later on w harry.

thank you so much ily

Thank you anon, that’s so lovely 🥹♥️ I’m sorry it took me ages to reply, this ask got lost in my drafts and I found it while cleaning my backlog. I really loved making this list because there are a few underrated gems here, I’ve marked the ones with less than 100 comments with an *. Enjoy!

* On Permanence by @the-starryknight (2021, M, 1.4k)

The possibility of going home with Draco is the only reason Harry comes to the club anymore. Tonight, there's a new kind of intimacy to be found outside the neon noise.

Let Me Count the Ways by @thebooktopus (E, 3.5k)

Intimacy comes in many forms. Draco wants to explore them all with Harry.

Is This Love? by @phd-mama (2021, E, 3.8k)

Draco wouldn’t call himself a tender man. He fights the forces of evil for a living, trying his best to pay penance for the evil he’s done. He’s fought and killed in the name of duty, and when he’s not on duty, he tends either to play hard or retreat alone. He doesn’t lean on anyone, and he knows he’s not the first person anyone goes to when they need care. Comfort. That all changes tonight.

Thermodynamic Equilibrium by @dorthyanndrarry (2017, T, 5k)

Harry's far too hot. Draco's always cold. And somehow against all odds, together they create a perfect equilibrium.

Two Starts, One Finish by @lqtraintracks (E, 5.4k)

I feel him before I see him. Nobody stands this close to me while I’m playing, and I’m about to turn to tell him so when he says, “You’re a tough bloke to track down,” and then leans against my baby grand.

* Service Bell by @shiftylinguini (E, 8k)

Draco is: a werewolf, living in a cabin in the woods, minding his own business, and never going to buy plaid because he's not that much of a fucking cliche (yet). He's also counting down the days until he sees Harry again.

* A Truth Universally Acknowledged by @sorrybutblog (2021, M, 19k)

A year out from the war, Harry agrees to accompany Hermione on a historical walking tour of Pride and Prejudice. Not in the itinerary: running into Draco Malfoy, setting off a summer of stately homes, lavish parties, resentful shagging, and maybe, falling in love.

Nice Things by aideomai (2020, M, 22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

The Last of What the World Left You by @xanthippe74 (T, 25k)

If the wizarding world won’t give Draco a second chance, he has a plan to survive: live in his Animagus form, a carrion crow, in the Forbidden Forest. Not only does Harry Potter come along and ruin it, he’s radiating a strange aura of power. With nowhere to go and a Life-Debt to his mother that Potter insists on repaying, Draco puts himself into the hands of the reclusive Boy Who Lived. Will the bleak corner of Yorkshire where Potter makes his home be another dead end or an unexpected refuge?

REVOLVEVLOVER by firethesound, zeitgeistic (E, 46k)

The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for.

* The Darkness Before the Dawn by Ren (E, 55k)

A mysterious creature is loose in London, stalking and killing people. Auror Harry Potter requests the help of a liaison from the Beast Division and gets saddled with Draco Malfoy. Will they be able to stop the creature before it claims more lives?

Meet Me at Midnight by @the-starryknight (2022, T, 57k)

Harry was beginning to wonder if he’d ever make anything again when Malfoy stormed through the door of Harry’s furniture shop. Now Harry’s got an impossible Ministry commission to finish, and even less energy than ever to deal with his elusive muse. That is, until he stumbles upon the surreal and beautiful world of a mysterious fae creature…

A Room Up There (And You In It) by @the-starryknight (2020, T, 59k)

When Preservationist Draco Malfoy was assigned to work on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, he was excited to delve into the gorgeous Black family antiques. His excitement quickly ended when something in the House decided it did not like his presence one bit. Featuring a grumpy antiques lover who most certainly did not sign up for this, encounters with a vengeful apparition, and a healthy application of Christmas spirit.

Monster by @orange-peony (2022, E, 71k)

“Well, it’s still a music box that is not working properly,” Hermione points out with a very intent grin. “That will give you a chance to see him.” She wiggles her eyebrows, making him snort. As if Harry hadn’t thought about it straight away. As if Harry’s mind hadn’t immediately wandered to Draco Malfoy the moment Zabini mentioned a music box.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

[practicecourts]

day 8 Moody March Jily micro has turned into a @jilymicro-oops (ca 1050 words) || Uneasy

Read of Rats and Men on ao3 or under the cut.

Of Rats and Men

Lily did not need a man in her life, never mind what her sister might say and think about the matter.  She had her own place, a nice job, three good friends that made her feel appreciated, respected and loved. So really, what could a man possibly add to all that? For her physical needs she was also well set, the satisfyer pro 2 had never let her down. In fact, ever since she’d gifted it to herself her highs had reached peaks no boyfriend had ever managed.  So, no man needed.  Lily was not afraid to be alone, she also didn’t fear the dark. She didn’t like spiders, but they too provided no need for rescue, nor did a leaking tap. Over the years she’d learned a thing or two about the odd job around the house.

She’d just finished rewatching Pride and Prejudice, which always put her in a good satisfied mood. She wasn't a hater of romance, she just didn't believe in it much, outside of fiction.  Indulging herself, she found the part where Mr Darcy hands Elisabeth into the carriage, and watched it, again and again and again. She relished the tension that seemed to crackle from the screen. All fictional, of course, in real life a touch could never be so loaded.

With a sigh, she got up from the couch, the cold of the night air brushing her bare legs. Then she froze.  A dark something was in her room.  It didn’t move so she didn’t either, she held her breath. She clapped her hand in front of her mouth and her other over her heart that beated as if she was racing instead of standing stock still.

A rat. A rat in her house. She could make out its body, the long tail must be curled around it. Just thinking about its tail made her gag. It wasn’t rational. She might be small, but there was not a rat big enough in the world to really hurt her. That wasn’t the point. It was a bloody rat. With teeth and diseases and wriggly feet and a naked scaly tail and it was in her room.  With a scream she turned, fled through the door and rushed outside. She didn’t feel the cold, all she could think of was that she needed someone to help her. This late the streets were empty, some rooms in the street still had lights on, but before she could decide which doorbell to ring, a man appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, into the beam of the streetlight. 

He was tall, a mop of untamed black curls adding to his towering presence. He wore glasses that gave him a trustworthy look, and the way he moved was all confidence. Lily was so relieved to see someone oozing strength and confidence that she nearly jumped him, without a second thought she grabbed him by his arm.  “You’ve got to help me, there’s a rat in my house. Please, can you get rid of it for me?” she said with hardly a pause between her words, and then she was pulling him along. At first he didn’t move, he just opened and closed his mouth.

She never gave him a chance to say anything before she tugged at his arm again and said, “Please, help me. It’s in my living room and I can’t go to bed because I’m too scared to walk past it. I'll get you a broom or something, but can you please, please just come and chase it away?”

Rigidly the man started to move alongside her and once inside she pushed him into her living room, grabbed a broom from the cupboard and handed it to him. She pointed to where the rat still sat and whispered, “There, it’s right there. It hasn’t moved. Please can you kill it?” To his credit the man nodded in understanding and carefully took the broom out of her hands. He shrugged off his coat and loosened his tie as he stepped into her living room. Lily stared at his back, forgetting about the rat for a moment because he looked rather good in his perfectly fitted shirt. She wondered if he had just come from some kind of fancy dinner, when he started to shake. 

She frowned. Was he afraid? The man stepped closer to the rat, poked with the stick end of the broom and proceeded to lift something from the floor.  “I think you’re safe to come in now,” he said, and she could hear the laughter in his voice. Warily, she stepped closer and peered over his broad shoulder, when he turned around she gasped.  At the broom’s end one of her black espadrilles was dangling in the air.  Right now would she'd give anything to be able to scroll back in time, to before she had grabbed a stranger from the street dressed in nothing more than an oversized t-shirt to save her from her footwear. Her sister was right, she was a freak.

Suddenly feeling very uneasy, she tugged at the edge of her shirt, which did exactly nothing, except draw attention to her state of undress. “I'm so, so sorry. You must think I’m a complete lunatic for…well… thinking there was a rat.”   “It's alright,” he said and stepped a little closer. With a solemn face he held out her shoe. “Here, best to face your fears head-on.”  Lily stared at him and when she saw his lips twitch began to giggle uncontrollably; she simply couldn't stop herself.

Her cheeks still burned with embarrassment, but she was now doubled over laughing with a complete stranger in her room.

Feeling still foolish but somewhat better she took her shoe, and her fingers brushed his hand. She looked into his eyes, still crinkling from laughing but she knew he felt the same shift in the air around them. The room was full with something like anticipation. She held her breath, not sure what was going on, not sure what it was she was waiting for. 

He ruffled his hair and cleared his throat. Then he stuck out his hand.

“Hi, my name's James, and if it’s not too forward of me, I would like to give you my number. Just so you can call me in case you need help, erm,  should you find the other one," he pointed at the shoe that was pressed against her chest, "scurrying around.”

Lily took his hand, “Hi, I’m Lily, and I’d like that very much.”

It was never wrong to reconsider the things you thought you could well do without, such as rats and men, after all.

[anti-spop]

found this reblog on the post i sent you earlier!

why are they acting like hordak and catra were actively fighting? moreover, as if catra was actually in danger and hordak was going to murder her? didn't catra just sneak up on hordak and attack him out of nowhere? or did these people watch a completely different show?

First ask

Jesus Christ, it only gets worse.

Yeah, I rewatched that scene a few times. Catra invaded Hordak's private space as she sat on his throne, she quite literally ambushed him. She took out the lights, disappeared in the dark, and we can see how horrified Hordak looks, until she eventually takes away his literal life support. Hordak was at Catra's mercy here, he could barely fight for his life. He could've straight up died there. He wasn't even the one trying to attack.

While I think in the S4 finale he did try to attack Catra, it was out of rage because IIRC he found out that Entrapta didn't betray him. Besides the fact the Horde was losing to the Rebellion, of course. But I mean, can you blame him? Catra was manipulating him at his most vulnerable state so she could get all the power for herself. She used his love for Entrapta against him.

Basically, that person is ableist as HELL. What the literal fuck. They're using made up shit to justify being ableist. This kind of logic is what literal conservatives say, actually. The moment they spot any bad person who happens to be disabled, LGBTQ+, black etc., they justify their prejudice. But like I said in the previous ask, nobody deserves to suffer prejudice. You should call out their individual actions, not their identities.