#erm yeah some of the drawings here suck but i like a lot of the panelling enough to post | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avatar-anna · 2 years

Note

heyyyy are u okay writing smthg about a miscarriage???

i am! i know i do this a lot, but this is another converted wattpad piece. enjoy!

tw for miscarriage, obviously

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, Harry, you and your wife keep a pretty low profile when you're not touring or on a red carpet," Ellen says, her legs crossed casually in her chair. Harry tried not to eye the interviewer suspiciously, but he wasn't sure if he liked what this statement was leading up to.

"Erm, yeah. I guess you could, uh, I guess you could say that." There was truth to that statement, he supposed, but it wasn't necessarily on purpose. Harry and Y/n just spent so much time apart, they liked their alone time when they could get it. The moments he spent with just Y/n and their two puppies were Harry's absolute favorites.

"Is she here?" Ellen asked.

"Uh... yes. She's around here somewhere, I think."

"You don't know? She's not in the audience?"

Ellen and the audience laughed, and Harry tentatively laughed along with them. "I think she wanted to watch backstage. She, um, she was a little, erm, a little afraid you might ask her questions if she was sitting out here."

Y/n could hear the laughter from where she was in the restroom. While what Harry said was true, the main reason she was backstage for this taping was because she was feeling incredibly ill today. She woke up feeling under the weather, but didn't want to worry Harry, so she sucked it up and went with him to the Ellen taping like they'd originally planned.

What Harry didn't know was that Y/n was about seven weeks pregnant. She'd had some of the usual morning sickness, which she'd been able to hide from Harry for the time being, but this felt different. This wasn't the usual nausea she'd been feeling for a few weeks. Y/n had originally chalked it up to just catching a cold or something. People got sick, it happened.

Now, though, as Harry and Ellen continued their interview, Y/n went to the bathroom thinking she was going to throw up again, but immediately knew something was wrong when she felt a sharp pain in her belly. She choked on the sob that wanted to escape and schooled her features into something calm, knowing now was not the time to panic.

She walked with incredible care, wincing every few steps, trying to find someone she knew in the tangle of crew members and studio execs, trying her best not to draw attention to herself. Finally, she spotted Jeff standing a couple yards away.

"Jeff," Y/n called as loud as she could without being heard onstage. Clueless to her pain, Jeff turned and smiled good naturedly as she continued to walk over. As Y/n got closer, he noticed the thinly veiled grimace on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his hand immediately coming to rest on her lower back. Y/n eyed all the people milling around backstage, not wanting to talk about this in front of anyone. Jeff seemed to notice her apprehension because he quickly ushered her into Harry's green room where they could be alone. Away from everyone, Y/n felt the pain more than ever and bit her lip in an attempt to get ahold of herself.

"I'm—I'm, um, pregnant, but I think something's wrong," she confessed, holding her tears back with everything she had.

"Okay," he said, his voice calm and steady. "We're going to get you to a hospital. We'll tell Harry at the next commercial break, and—"

"No!" she blurted. "No, he—he doesn't know. Just wait until the end of the taping to tell him. Please."

Jeff looked conflicted, but he didn't really have time to argue with her. The more he looked at her, the more he realized they should've already left. "Alright fine. Come on, we gotta get you out of here."

Harry stepped off the stage fifteen minutes later, expecting to see his wife, but all he saw was his band packing up their equipment. He didn't even see Jeff, which was odd because he liked to be there for every minute of these things to make sure nothing went wrong. Mitch looked up to see a confused looking Harry, and his heart sunk, hating to be the one to have to tell him Y/n was in the hospital. He didn't know why, only that that's where Jeff was rushing her off to when Mitch passed them as they were leaving. Harry's blood went cold when the words left Mitch's mouth. Without another word or a second glance, Harry nearly sprinted off the set of The Ellen Show and got in his car. For a minute, he had no idea where he was going, but he looked at his phone at a stoplight and saw that his manager had texted him the name and the address of the hospital he'd taken Y/n to.

She was in a private room wearing one of those papery hospital gowns when he arrived. It didn't slip Harry's notice that she was being treated in the maternity wing, but in the moment, all he cared about was her. When he entered the room, his heart broke. Y/n, who was always so calm and level headed, had tears streaming down her face and her chest heaved with heavy sobs while Jeff rubbed her back soothingly.

When Jeff saw Harry at the door, his shoulders slumped, looking at a loss for words. Harry didn't say anything, just quietly slipped into the small hospital bed next to Y/n and pulled her into his chest. He wanted to know what happened, but didn't know how to ask. Though the longer they sat together on the little bed, Harry started to piece some of it together—the hospital, the tears, the way Jeff couldn't seem to look him in the eye. It killed Harry not to know for certain, but his focus had to be on his wife right then.

She eventually cried herself to sleep against his chest, and he was thankful that he'd gone with a soft sweater for his interview today. A doctor came in while Y/n slept, and Jeff stepped out of the room so she could talk to Harry alone. It felt like he was hearing everything underwater, all this medical jargon thrown around that he didn't really understand, but he got the gist: there was a baby, and now there wasn't. And this whole time, he had no idea.

Harry tried not to focus on that last part, trusting that Y/n had her reasons for not telling him she was pregnant. He desperately wanted to call his mother, to talk about this to someone, but he didn't want to leave his wife's side. Jeff stayed for as long as he was able, but Harry eventually told him he could go.

Later that evening, Y/n began to stir. Her eyes were puffy and red as she blinked them opened, and she looked confused, like she wasn't quite sure where she was. When she saw Harry and the hospital gown she was wearing, it all came rushing back to her.

"Harry," she said, her voice breaking. "I—"

"Shh, it's okay, you don't have to say anything," he whispered, pulling her close.

Harry had never seen her so visibly shaken up before, and it rattled him to see her that way. So many thoughts kept swarming in his head, but he tried to focus on Y/n and keeping her from falling apart.

When she was somewhat ready, Harry helped her slip into the pair of sweats and his hoodie that Mitch had brought over an hour ago. He'd come after Harry texted him, but didn't stay long, giving the two of them their space. She kept trying to explain herself, feeling like there was this guilt holding her heart hostage for not telling Harry about the baby, even if she'd only known for a couple of weeks herself, but Harry kept telling her all of that could wait.

"No," Y/n said on the drive home. "I—I need you to know why I didn't tell you."

"That can wait, darling," Harry insisted. "We don't have to do that now."

"No, I need to. Harry please." In all the time Harry knew her, he had never heard Y/n sound so broken. He desperately wanted to know what was running through her head, to take all her pain away, and if this would help, then he could sit and listen to her. He nodded, his eyes staying focused on the road ahead of him.

"I wanted it to be special, you know? And I—I know we've been...trying for a while, and when I found out a couple weeks ago, I was so excited, and I thought it would be such a nice surprise, especially because you've been working so hard recently." Y/n took a shuddering breath, and Harry reached over and took her hand. "You just—you have to know it wasn't because I was scared to tell you or because I didn't want it. Please, just know that."

Harry pulled over to a lookout point on the freeway, worried that he wouldn't be able to drive them home safely with the tears pooling in his eyes. Leaning over the middle console, he pressed his forehead to hers. He didn't know what he could say to ease her pain, didn't know how to feel about any of this, so he went with the one thing that hadn't changed, that they both knew no matter what happened. "I love you."

Y/n's eyes fluttered closed, feeling like a warm blanket had settled over her shoulders. "I love you too."

Harry kissed her, gentle and unsure if she wanted to be touched that way right now, but she kissed him back with the same amount of love and passion and intention that she always did. When he was sure neither of them were going to break down in the time it took them to drive home, he got back on the road.

He worried about his wife, wondered if he should call her mum, or any one of her sisters. But when they eventually made it home, Y/n told him in a feeble voice that she just wanted to be left alone.

She felt numb. There were so many emotions swirling around her at the hospital that the only thing she felt now was an all-encompassing weariness. She wanted Harry close, and at the same time didn't want him to look at her. She wanted to run until she couldn't anymore and wanted to sleep until today felt like a dream and not a cruel reality. Y/n looked at Harry and saw how much all of this sudden news seemed to be affecting him too. He did a good job of hiding it, but she knew him well, and he was almost in as much pain as she was.

Y/n wiped her tears and bent down to greet the furry little animals that had come trotting over to the couple at the door. She needed to be okay. For Harry and for her own sanity, she needed to be fine. Looking up at where her husband watched her carefully, she offered him a small smile she didn't feel. Harry knew what she was doing, and he knew that if she kept pushing her feelings away, she would explode. But Y/n was trying, and if she didn't want to talk today, then they wouldn't talk today. There was always tomorrow, and he wasn't going anywhere.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

A few weeks later

"Hi, darling. How are we feeling this morning?"

Y/n was sitting up in bed, but Harry knew it was going to be a bad day when he saw that she hadn't changed yet, hadn't even gotten out of bed. It had been like this off and on for almost four weeks, and Harry didn't know what to do. He tried talking to her about it, but she never said much; he tried helping her take her mind off the mess of thoughts swirling about in her head, and it would work, but only for a little while. He'd called her mum, he'd called his mum, but they both told him that she just needed time and space, that the grief his wife was feeling wasn't the normal kind.

And they were right. Y/n felt like she had failed somehow, and when Harry looked at her, she felt like his gaze burned her. She didn't want to feel like this. Harry had been nothing but perfect since the night they came home from the hospital, but she couldn't shake this shadow that had passed over her, making her feel small and like something was wrong with her for not being able to do the one thing women were supposedly meant to.

She looked over at Harry with tired eyes, noting the way he was looking at her. Like she was about to flutter away with the breeze that blew through the open window. "I'm alright."

Harry smiled at her. Y/n's heart fluttered, but she didn't have the energy to smile back at him the way she normally did. They both knew that she was lying, but Harry continued right along. "That's great. Mitch and Sarah are coming over in a little bit. Why don't you come down and join us for lunch?"

She knew he was trying, and she knew that she should see their friends, seeing as Harry was really the only person she had spent time with in the last few weeks. But she couldn't find the energy to get up and spend time with anyone these days.

"Um, I'm still a little tired, but maybe another time?"

Harry's heart sunk down to his feet, but he kept his smile. "Okay. Another time then. If you need anything, let me know."

"I will. Thank you."

Harry went back downstairs, two dogs greeting Harry at the bottom of the staircase. "Go see mum," he whispered in one's ear. "Go on."

The dog trotted up the stairs, and he heard Y/n coo at her as she jumped up and joined her on the bed. Harry went about his normal routine, cleaning up a bit before his friends came over and scratching his and Y/n's other puppy behind the ears as he went.

Mitch and Sarah came about half an hour later, bringing lunch and a bottle of tequila with them.

"I figured we'd stay in and make margaritas," Sarah said, lifting the bottle up.

Y/n could hear talking and laughter downstairs, and she tried to ignore it. There was a part of her that had grown accustomed to the melancholy she'd found herself trapped in, and the guilt and shame she felt for weeks made it hard for her to get out of bed. But then she heard Harry laugh, and she could picture the way he threw his head back as his eyes crinkled in delight. Y/n realized she hadn't heard him laugh in weeks, couldn't remember the last time she genuinely smiled.

Pushing past everything that had kept her chained to her and Harry's bed, she got up, slipped into one of Harry's sweatshirts, and left their room. Her dog dutifully followed at her feet as Y/n carefully made her way down the stairs and closer to the animated chatter. Upon seeing Harry, the dog went up to him and started sniffing around. Harry turned, almost in disbelief. He stayed on the couch, blinking at his wife, who was now frozen on the last step.

Mitch reacted first, realizing that if someone didn't do something right then, Y/n would retreat back upstairs. He stood up and walked over and hugged her. She tensed a little at the contact, but it didn't feel alien or wrong the way she thought it would. And as Y/n tentatively wrapped her arms around Mitch, Harry beamed. He moved in his spot on the couch to make room for Y/n as Mitch walked with her to where he and Sarah were still seated. Mitch was whispering quietly to her, and though Harry didn't know what he said, he didn't care because she was smiling. It was small, and it flickered a little, but it was there, and she wasn't faking it.

Harry opened his arms up for her, and after giving Sarah a small hug, she settled in next to him. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her temple. Y/n felt his smile grow against her head as she took his hand in hers. Harry sat back while Y/n spoke to Mitch and Sarah, her voice quiet and a little raspy from disuse, but it felt good to see her coming out of her shell a little bit. His thumb moved back and forth soothingly across her skin while she asked Mitch what he and Sarah had been up to, and if they wanted to stay for dinner. Things weren't totally back to normal, but this was a start, and both Harry and Y/n were looking forward to living again.

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot

743 notes · View notes

zorphie · 7 months

Note

Here I saw that you dropped this so I came into your inbox to return it to you 🖊️ (give me any precious OC you have in stock I wanna Know about them)

ty for the ask!! (eats 🖊 whole) everything is below :]

i shall talk about devin for 2day.. my token failboy. God

he's from earth Except it Sucks!! because he's ostracized a lot and has no friends💔 he will often come home and indulge himself in a bunch of his hobbies like drawing ,writing , making music, he's literally just the art kid. he was into a lot of fantasy and imagining himself in those kinds of worlds, doing lots of heroics , yeah you see where this is going . The irony

his only company is his mom which he doesn't mind too much, but it's led him to develop a very self centered attitude (he focused more on himself because he didn't have other people to empathize with if that makes sense?)mf never learned how to share

he ends up in the spiral because there was an urgent situation where mana was flooding into earth, quinn was sent to deal with it. he was worried that devin absorbed it because he could sense his magic and also wanted to save him because devin had some weird negative aura cast on him Somehow (effects include nausea and blurry vision, headaches to anyone nearby, fun all around) quinn was like What Is Going On, panicked, and took him along. worried about this decision later because what if the teachers flip . the plan was just to help devin and bring him back home (uhh very long groan. because this is wizard101 we all know the latter didn't happen)

coming into the spiral has changed devin a Lot for better and for worse. he felt guilty for leaving his mom behind, and she disappeared when he came back to visit. he was excited to learn magic but i think the realization settled in after he killed a man (malistaire)

as the arcs go on he has friends now! finally a circle of people who will accept him. he learns what empathy is because of that! hes still silly and loud but he becomes selfless, a bit more mature and level headed. but he feels like he's become "too selfless" to the point where he's going a little nuts ? always being self sacrificing just to save everyone if possible? the yw pipeline. he wishes he could settle down for A Minute to use his hands to create art again not destroy things . gwah.

just wait until he hears about azteca🙄

he learns his dad is the giant tree and his mom straight up stole him when he was like 3 or something and took him away . Crazy. he's conflicted by the fact that he's being shaped into a weapon by no matter who it is? his mom or the spiral? (his mom is a completely different can of worms I will not be getting to rnLOL but yeah she was just plotting to use him for selfish reasonz) he doesn't like knowing he was born for the sake of (all the horrors he's had to deal with. Erm?) and wants to have an identity seperate from that. his friends remind him that he's still just a human being too. he's doing his best

he delved more into astral magic around arc 3 which was not by choice. at all. (crazy woman told him to . idk why but ihave a lot of evil wizarfd women) and he should not have learned that much but he did! uhmwhoops. it's hazardous. it does not just enhance spells -he could accidentally fuck up time and space. he's learning how to control it with eden and lalin because he needs to eventually. does not actually go to the arcanum scholar about it because he's terrified of seeming like a threat to them

hypothetically he could time travel but that's for his super secret alternate version who's stuck in a time loop we don't worry about that guy

devin's other path would've been a villain if quinn never dragged him into the spiral,, he was missing and people were looking for him but it was near impossible to find him because of the aura he had going on. ambrose's spell wouldn't have worked. (his mom was taking a lot of precautions) it was just known that the scion was out there and he needs to get his ass in the spiral asap or we're all fucked (quinn standing there like 🧍‍♂️as if he isn't ambrose's errand boy)

devin's alternate self is aware of him and is supposed to show/answer "which life would've been better for him". since he's obviously not having a care free time in both

dasein kinda reached him around empyrea because of the astral magic stuff sorta fucking with reality but it was very limited

oh and his eyes turn from full purple to a tint of blue he's got stardust hands now. it's "contagious" and he can flick his hands onto anything and get glitter all over it, he does it a lot on his friends . his blood is also glitter. somebody help him. pros: glitter. Cons: black holes. is it worth it

he's trying to start a silly band.. only amari and erin will join nd they will never stop annoying the others about it

devin is good at the storm spells, but the machines related stuff that his teacher assigns? not at all.so he cheats and asks for eden to do it

his pet is a zappy glowbug who's always scared of everything and frequently flies into glass. it acts as his nightlight. it's also probably radioactive . it can charge your devices but they have a chance of exploding. has also probably electrocuted people

#txt #oc #oc: devin #ask #THIS WAS SO LONG HELP?#OOPS!

5 notes · View notes

tealenko · 2 years

Note

Hello, I haven't seen you here in a while and just wanted to say I hope everything is okay! Maybe you're not showing up on my following but all the same, I hope you're well!

This a long post so, if you want to skip it, the main theme here is I'm okay~ish ehehehehehehe

Hi <3

I saw this the other day but I decided to let it rest for a bit because, to be truly honest, I didn't know how to reply without going in too deep into the whole deal... but lets take it step by step and see where we end (hmm hum hmm humm hu hum hu hum hu hu hu hum -> this is me randomly humming "Step and a step" of NiziU in my mind btw XDDD)

Erm... First of all: Thank you so much for the message, it really cheered me up when I read it.

and two... Yes, I haven't been posting for some time now (this time Tumblr didn't do anything wrong XD), and I guess this is me trying to explain why.

It's kinda difficult to explain but, since the last time I posted/wrote/draw anything I've been through:

3 different illnesses (nothing major but the combo really took me by surprise)

a lot of random stuff that keeps both busy and stressed

and the usual stuff, that right now I don't feel like talking about.

Overall... feeling without any motivation to do anything (which really sucks... because I need to do a lot of stuff) so yeah ~Insert Bo Burham's song - sh*t~.

Soooo, to sum up, I've been vegging out in front of the TV seeing Youtube (mainly rewatching 2 Set Violin videos).

Anyways... XD

I'm back (I think) and exited to be so... And, as always, happy to answer to any kind ask, specially this type <3

p.s: I'm not gonna check this XDDDDDDD sorry if my English it's a bit rusty :D

#ask away #current mood

6 notes · View notes

drawlfoy · 4 years

Text

Mirror, Mirror Finale (P.1...)

masterlist (catch up on parts 1-5 here!) request guidelines

pairing: draco x ravenclaw!reader

summary: y/n has had a crush on draco malfoy from afar since--well, forever. what will happen when they’re paired up for prefect rounds and run into a special mirror?

warnings: language

a/n: heyyy guys...how are you doing...so i’m sure you’ve noticed that i have p.1 added into this even though it’s marked as a finale...yes i am aware of the fact but it is not even close to being done and i do not want to give this a half baked ending. i thought you guys might like seeing what i’ve been sitting on for a long time. more writing will be coming soon! i promise! i’m actually working on another oneshot soon that’ll be fun to put out there !

overall tags: @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry

mirror mirror tags: @theres-a-dog-outside-omg @mey-rapp @kaibie @blackpinkdolan @the-wiener-soldierrrrr @sugarbby99

word count: 2.9k

music recs: i sink i sink -- living hold ; wishes -- beach house ; could this be love? -- saturn 17

Y/N played with the cup of tea that sat steaming before her, running the tips of her fingers around the golden rim. The soft chamomile scent rose up to her nose in charmed yellow tendrils, something that would’ve been calming had she not been sat in front of Professor Trelawny, answering uncomfortable questions and averting her gaze from her loony eyes.

“Dearie, I know that you may not want to share, but it’s incredibly important for the healing process. Even more important than the potions and the tea leaf readings.”

“Er...when I first fell asleep, all my dreams were just of past memories. Aft--”

“Excuse me.” Trelawny held up her hand as she scratched a heading on her parchment. “If you want to get better, you must add more details. What memories? Of what?”

Y/N swallowed, casting her eyes to the ceiling. “Erm...I saw Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.” Her breath hitched as the professor furrowed her eyebrows. Suddenly the teacup felt scalding in her hand. “I saw our rounds together. When we ran into the mirror, that is.”

“What mirror?”

“The Mirror of Erised.”

Trelawny raised her eyebrow--a quick motion but not entirely unassuming. “Interesting. Very, very curious indeed. Go on.”

“I saw us...together. I didn’t think that it was a special mirror until afterwards because it looked the same. We were...uhm...together.”

It took a few seconds of staring at Trelawny’s googly eyes before she realized she’d just repeated herself.

“And after that….” Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to draw out the rest of her memories. “I don’t remember everything else. I’m sorry. It was just everything that I remember about Malfoy in particular...like, the first time I saw him, what it was like to talk to him for the first time, running away from him in the Slytherin dungeons that one night I had to stay overnight for potions...that’s it.”

Her professor nodded gravely, shifting in the only chairs that the hospital wing provided to visitors--hard, cold mahogany wood. “Well done. And after? Once Miss Severyjn woke you up?”

Her throat felt dry. Of course I’d have to recount what happened. Of course I have to tell them about how I had a dream about making out with him in my dorm. Of course. Just my luck.

“I’m sorry,” said Y/N. “It’s just...weird. It felt too private.”

Trelawny seemed slightly empathetic at this; her eyes seemed even kinder (albeit still dreamy) than usual. “I’ve heard it all, love. No need to be ashamed.”

“Okay.” She took a steadying breath. “I...well...it’s fuzzy. I can’t remember exactly why we ended up ditching our rounds and why we decided to go to my dorm instead.”

It was difficult to continue when she saw her companion’s eyebrows shoot up a few inches, but she steeled herself.

“It took me a long time to unlock my dorm door--I think I was nervous, or something, because my hands were shaking too hard to hold my wand steady. He moved my hand aside and said something--I can’t quite remember what--and he just unlocked it himself. I think I dragged him in by his tie, and he told me that I was trembling, and then before I knew it he was cupping my face. I remember being surprised by how warm his hands were. I thought they’d be colder.”

“Go on, doll. I only need a little bit more.”

“It’s awfully embarrassing, you know,” said Y/N. “I hardly know him.”

“Don’t you worry. Your dream was created by whatever traces of magic the Mirror of Erised left on you. This has nothing to do with how you view Malfoy.”

She dared to smile at this point, mostly as a way to pretend like she wasn’t mortified recounting her tale. “He kissed me. I don’t know if you need any more details, but that’s the grand picture of it all. He kissed me, and I didn’t stop him, and now I feel like a proper creeper, having fantasies about a boy who wants nothing to do with me.”

The wrinkles on Trelawny’s forehead deepened. “Don’t fret. The Mirror of Erised is a very powerful thing. You couldn’t have influenced that dream to work any different than it had. On that note…” She brushed herself off and rolled up the parchment. “You’ve given me enough to work with. The reason why I ask is because sometimes certain dreams can be prophetic--sometimes regarding important wizarding events that the headmaster ought to be aware of--or potentially deadly. Both instances require a bit more...of an intensive treatment regiment, if you will. I’m happy to report to you that your bout of Dream Sickness shouldn’t develop into anything more sinister. I’ll recommend that you stay here for a bit longer, just to ensure that you don’t slip into it again, but you should be able to have visitors and wean yourself off of Dreamless Sleep. Rest up, darling. You have a lot of sleeping to do.”

Y/N smiled weakly as she allowed Trelawny to pluck the teacup from her hands and swirl the leaves about.

“Nothing but good news in your future, just as I suspected. Good night!”

oOo

Life in the infirmary led Y/N to walk a wobbly line of consciousness. Once Madame Pomfrey lowered the doses of her potion, dreams began to once again tickle at her sleeping mind. Sometimes people she knew would appear next to her bedside, and she was never able to tell if it was real. During one of these instances, Rena appeared to hold her hand and recount the hottest gossip that she missed.

“...And after that, Parvati told Lavender Brown that she was nothing but a ditz whose only acts of Gryffindor bravery had to do with the fact that she left her room every morning wearing THAT disaster of a cloak…but I’m boring you, I can tell.”

Y/N, or perhaps Dream Y/N, whichever one she was, sent her a soft smile. “S’okay. Tell me more.”

“Oh, I totally forgot!” Rena squeezed her hand. “I talked to Flitwick about the whole incident. He sends his condolences. He also says that you’re excused from rounds until we reassign partners. No more late nights with Malfoy!”

She rolled her eyes, shuffling further under the blankets. This was just a dream, just a dream.

“Sucks to be him. He’s gonna have to walk all those big, scary halls alone at night.”

Rena cracked a grin, but something flashed across her eyes that Y/N couldn’t quite decipher. “Yeah. He already had his knickers in a twist over having to do it the first night. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he missed you.”

“He missed having someone to harass, you mean,” corrected Y/N.

“Yeah, I suppose so. He’s not all bad all the time though, you know. I mean, granted, he is a rich little prat, but he has some good in him.”

“Got a crush, hm?”

Rena’s eyes shifted again. She was nervous thought Y/N. But why? She quickly decided to ask Madame Pomfrey for a higher dose of Dreamless Sleep the next time she saw her as a lucid member of society. This stuff is getting out of hand.

Before Dream Rena left, she dropped off a bouquet of flowers--white roses, her favorite. Y/N tried to thank her, but she felt herself being tugged softly to a different dream, away, away, away from her dear friend.

It took a rough shake of the shoulder from Madame Pomfrey before she was awake again.

“Drink,” she said, forcing a goblet of something foul into her hands. “You’ve been delirious. You need to wake up.”

The taste that hit her tongue was bitter and laced with the nostalgia of O.W.Ls season last year--Wide-Eye Potion. Her consciousness came crashing down on her like a cool tide and she became aware of how much sweat was dripping down her back.

Gross.

“Feel better?”

Y/N nodded, but as she turned to set her now-empty goblet on the table next to her, her stomach lurched.

A vase of white roses stood, unimposing in nature but anxiety inducing when she considered the implications they carried. Rena’s visit hadn’t been a dream--and her last excuse to see Draco, the boy who had made her life hell for the last few weeks, was gone.

So why did it feel like she’d just been punched in the stomach?

oOo

Exactly a week and one day after she had been admitted to the hospital, Madame Pomfrey allowed her a special privilege--the chance to take a walk around the castle grounds. After breathing the same stale hospital wing air, Y/N was eager to fill her lungs with something colder and fresh.

“Stick close to the gravel path,” said Madame Pomfrey, the wrinkles in her forehead deepening with each word she spoke. “Do not, and I mean, do not, get near a single magical artifact or so help me Merlin. If you feel the slightest bit feverish, you will come right back here and you will not--under any circumstances--lie down and shut your eyes. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Madame Pomfrey.” The words fell out of Y/N’s mouth without her really taking any notice; instead, she watched the way the trees moved outside, swaying softly with the wind. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

The nurse nodded--a brisk, tense motion. “Good. Be back here in 30 minutes. Any later and I will employ the entire staff of this castle to come track you down so I can personally drag you back here.”

Y/N had forgotten how air could be crisp--crisp she thought giddily--as she waltzed her way down the steps and into the courtyard. Her loafers made a satisfying tap on the stone that she almost missed when the pathway turned to gravel, the rocks crunching under toe instead. But regardless, she was stoked. In that moment, she had never felt more alive, not even after she’d gotten near straight Os last year...but seconds later, she was hit with something other than euphoria: namely, a silk clad black shoulder.

“Ow.” Y/N went face first into the ground, her cheek bouncing off the hard floor.

“Ah, fuck! Fuck! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” A posh voice, no doubt the owner of the silky shoulder, sounded from above her. “Oh, oh my god, Y/N? Is that you?”

She rolled over on her back and looked right up into the concerned eyes of Draco Malfoy.

“Er...Hi,” she said. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at her. “Are you alright? Why are you out of the hospital wing?”

“Madame Pomfrey let me go for a walk. She said that it’s good for me. Also she told me not to...fuck, I’m not supposed to lie down!”

The flash of terror in her eyes seemed to say enough, and before she knew it, he was hauling her up off the ground.

“Why are they letting you walk out all alone?” asked Draco, his tone demanding but not entirely uncaring.

“I think they presumed that everyone on the path would have the common decency to avoid a poor sick girl coming out for her first walk in a week, but clearly they thought too soon.”

Draco still hadn’t completely let go of her shoulders, where his hands were clasped firmly around the sides in a gesture meant to steady. He snorted at that moment, a bit of his old self shining back through as he narrowed his eyes down good-naturedly at her. “It’s hardly like the entire school has been issued a warning that you’ve been released.”

“Oh, quit stroking my ego like that.” Y/N tilted her eyebrow to examine him. For the most part, her old rounds partner looked no different--same strikingly light eyes, same aristocratic features, same expensive and fashionable apparel--but the bags under his eyes were new. “Have you been sleeping? Like, at all?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. Who else?”

His hands moved away from their supporting position to scratch the back of his neck. “Oh, er, not much. I keep worrying about getting what you came down with. Rena told me about the Dream Sickness and how it was because of the mirror, and it’s just hard for me to sleep.”

“Oh. I’m sorry about that.”

“Yeah.” He shifted his weight back and forth, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“What exactly did Rena tell you?” Y/N’s words snapped Draco back to attention. “And if you say everything I will lie down on the ground, go back into my dream coma, and tell everyone it’s your fault.”

“Well, then.” A smirk danced across his lips. “Nothing. Rena told me nothing.”

Y/N stared at him for a few seconds before lowering herself to the ground, never breaking eye contact.

“What--what are you doing?”

His face went out of her eye line as she lay flat on the ground, stretching her limbs out to vaguely resemble a starfish and exhaling a heavy sigh. “I’m going to sleep right here. When Madame Pomfrey finds me, barely toeing the line between life and death, I’ll have rehearsed a speech in my mind about how Draco Malfoy knocked a poor sick girl over in the gravel pathway and then harassed her to the point of exhaustion.”

When Y/N opened her eyes, she could see Draco come into vision. His green and silver striped tie swung in the air above her as he leaned over her, a slight grimace on his face.

“I don’t think you were sorted into the right house.”

“Keep your comments to yourself,” she said, shutting her eyes again and taking in a deep breath. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

“I thought you were--Y/N, wait!” A hand reached out to gently shake her shoulder. “Wait! I thought you were kidding!”

“I never kid. I’m very serious. Leave me be, now. I have a speech to write.”

She heard a loud and rather over dramatic sigh above her before a hand started tugging at her arm, lifting it up over her head and pulling.

“Draco! Stop!”

“Calling me Draco, now, huh? Awfully intimate when you’re about to frame me for attempted murder,” he said, his tone surprisingly consistent and clear for someone hauling a whole adult woman off the ground. “Can you at least try to help me? A little bit?”

“Fuck off,” was the only thing coming out of Y/N’s mouth as he pulled her to her feet for the second time in less than 10 minutes. Once they were both standing, just barely a meter apart, Y/N found herself at a complete loss for words. Draco was looking down at her with an emotion displayed across his features that she could not quite place, and it made her stomach twist.

“You have gravel stuck in your hands.”

His voice took her by surprise. It had softened considerably, almost to a whisper. There was none of the usual snottiness or nasal judgement present--just a breathy declaration that made her knees weak from the sudden shift in energy.

His hand moved towards hers, and he met her eyes with a gaze that asked “is this okay?” Y/N couldn’t help but just stare, wide-eyed and unable to blink, as he gently took her hand and began pulling out the rocks.

“I have to tell you something,” said Draco, still quiet and unimposing in tone. “I...I know that this might come as a surprise, and I know that you...er...probably don’t care to hear this, but, erm…”

Y/N just stared.

“I’ve been feeling this way for a while, and I just didn’t really figure it out until you, uh, you got sick, and I know I’ve been a proper prat to you and that you have no need to reciprocate anything, truly, but, ehm…”

His adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he squeezed his eyes shut, like he was in pain or something.

“Spit it out, Draco, I don’t have all day,” added Y/N lightly.

“Miss Y/L/N!”

A voice boomed across the courtyard, making Y/N nearly jump out of her skin. A quick turn revealed that it was Madame Pomfrey. And a furious Madame Pomfrey at that.

“You foolish, foolish girl,” said Pomfrey, seizing her by the arm and dragging her away. “Speaking to the same boy in your dreams? Why don’t you just go and lick the Mirror of Erised and fall asleep right after? You give me migraines.”

“I’m so sorry Madame Pomfrey! I didn’t mean to!” Apologies rolled out of Y/N’s mouth at a rapid-fire pace, not stopping until she’d been escorted back to her bed.

“I am so disappointed in you,” the older lady snapped as she stormed over to the neighboring bed, angrily wringing out a washcloth. “No visitors. Not until you have a perfect bill of health.”

Hospital air had never felt so stale.

final a/n: whew this was a long one and definitely not all. this was about half of my draft and i’m still working on it, so we’ll see how long the next one is. i hope that you guys enjoyed! comments/thoughts on this chapter will definitely give me more motivation to finish this series strong, so i’d love to hear what you guys thought of this :) thanks for reading!

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #draco lucius malfoy x reader #draco lucius malfoy #mirror mirror

268 notes · View notes

fedeipox · 3 years

Text

The Way of Time (Rdr2 fanfic) - Chapter 4 (1/3)

There are a tons of hidden or very rare missions I’ve never found during the THREE playthrough I made. This was one. I found it absolutely by accident the third time and now thanks to YouTube I know there is also a continue to it that I’ve never done -.-

Previously on TWoT: Emily begins to understand how things work in camp, she gets familiar with hierarchy, roles, personalities, and most important, she starts building friendships. Now it’s time to discover how life outside camp is.

Chapter 4 (1/3) - City girl, country life

Words: 2,3k

“Are you sure about this?” asked Emily as Mary-Beth and Tilly helped her with the boots.

“Yeah, don’t worry. See? They fit you perfectly” answered Mary-Beth pulling the laces.

She had lend her her black boots, while Tilly had given her her light blue shirt. They had found out they had the same size.

Emily felt like an idiot, she felt ridiculous, she couldn’t wait to wear something new, something more normal, but she was aware that wasn’t going to be possible. How could it be that in 1899 women still dressed in that way? She thought that puffed sleeves and lacework were already outdated, but apparently not. Besides, the idea of that shirt on her skin was making her shiver, and even though both Tilly and Mary-Beth had assured her it was clean and unused, it took a little to convince her to wear it.

“What is this?” asked Mary-Beth when Emily removed her hoodie and t-shirt so that she was wearing only her bra.

“Don’t you have it?” she asked in turn.

They both shook their heads.

“And how do you hold your breasts up?”

“Why you need to hold them up? Are you afraid they’d fall?” asked Karen’s sarcastic voice.

She shouldn’t have been there, Emily didn’t want her there, and the feeling was mutual, but they needed someone who checked no-one would come close as she was changing her clothes, and no-one was better than Karen for that kind of job.

“So you wear nothing?” asked Emily.

“Not usually. Society women wear corsets. Miss O’Shea’s got one” answered Mary-Beth.

“Who’s Miss O’Shea?”

“The redhead with the princess attitude” replied Tilly.

“Oh, you mean Molly. Yeah, I’ve met her.”

“So you already call her by her name. You’ll be great friends, no doubt” said Karen.

Emily huffed and rolled her eyes.

“So, this… bra, you all wear it in the future?” asked Mary-Beth.

Karen scoffed.

“Yes. Every woman has one, or more than one.”

“When were they invented? Or, when will they be invented?”

“I have no idea. I thought in the middle 1800’s, but it seems not.”

“No, still too early apparently.” Emily liked talking with Mary-Beth. Among the girls she was the most open-minded and seemed not to question her provenience from the future. Talk with her was easy. Karen didn’t believe her one bit, but Emily didn’t expect less, while Tilly was still skeptic, but maybe not impossible to convince.

“I wish I could come with you” said Mary-Beth with disappointment.

“Why don’t you? You can advise me on clothes” replied Emily with a new flush of excitement.

“I can’t. Miss Grimshaw will get angry.”

“But… I don’t understand. Is she some kind of camp tyrant? You all keep telling me how horrible she is.”

“Because she is” said Karen.

“No, she’s not. Not the way you make her sound” Tilly addressed her.

“And you have your freedom. She can’t force you to stay here” added Emily as she wore Tilly’s shirt.

“Oh, yes she can” murmured Mary-Beth.

Emily frowned at those words.

“Well then… I’ll ask her. Kindly” she said.

“Kindness don’t work with Grimshaw” chuckled Karen.

“We’ll sneak out, then.”

“You can try, but when she’ll find out and hit you, remember my words” Karen advised her.

“Hit me?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time” added Tilly.

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. From the way they were describing her, this woman seemed a monster.

“Hey hey, where you think you’re going?” Emily heard Karen saying with a menacing voice.

“We need to go. Is she ready?” asked Lenny.

“Yes, I’m coming” Emily said.

Then, she turned to look at Mary-Beth’s disappointed face again. She wanted to go with her and Emily wanted it too, even if that meant risking Miss Grimshaw’s wrath.

“Come with me. I’ll take all the responsibility” Emily assured her and took her by her hand as she walked around the wagon and reached Lenny.

“She’s coming too” she said to the boy.

“Alright, let’s go.” They walked to the other side of camp from where their tent was and from the distance Emily spotted Mr. Arthur tiding a couple of horses to a wagon very similar to the one she was on the day before, maybe exactly the same.

“Come quick, before she sees us” Emily whispered to Mary-Beth.

“Morning, ladies. You joining us?” Mr. Morgan asked to Mary-Beth.

“Yes, I want her to come. She’ll be my advisor” replied Emily.

“Does Miss Grimshaw know?”

The two girls exchanged a look.

“Okay, hop on. Quick” whispered Mr. Arthur, walking fast towards the front of the wagon.

Emily smiled at Mary-Beth: they had his complicity. The two of them climbed on the back and sat one facing the other, right next to the big deer Charles Smith had hunted that morning. That would have made them earn a couple of dollars and with that little they had been able to pick up around camp, it should have been enough to buy supplies and provide food for more than twenty people.

Arthur and Lenny took the leading places and they started to move, passing through the trees that covered the clearing with the camp and reaching the path, all without talking. Fearing a travel full of an embarrassing silence, Emily knew she had to find a topic of conversation and thinking about Mary-Beth and what she had understood about her in that couple of days, she thought that books would be a good start.

“So, I’ve seen you read a lot. What kind of books do you like?” she asked.

“Well, mostly novels about female heroines and their adventures” Mary-Beth replied with some uneasiness, just like she was ashamed of that.

“Oh, so you’re the type who loves romantic stories. In my time you’d probably love Twilight.”

“What is it?”

“A love story between a girl and a vampire.”

Mary-Beth’s eyes widened.

“Vampires? You mean those monsters who suck people’s blood?”

“Actually, in the book the vampires are handsome.”

“Oh for God’s sake” Emily heard Mr. Morgan complain, but she pretended she didn’t.

“Yes. You would definitely adore it. But maybe it’s better if we talk about something you’d now. What about erm… Jane Austen, have you read something of hers?”

Mary-Beth shook her head.

“Oh you must, she’s great. What about… the Bronte sisters?”

Again, Mary-Beth had no idea.

“Well, I guess my first present to you will be a book.”

“Why would you buy me a present?”

Emily frowned. She thought Mary-Beth had already understood what kind of relationship she wanted to built with her, but apparently she had not.

“Because… we’re friends. I mean, I want to be friend with you.”

“But you don’t know me.”

“That’s why I want to be friend with you, to know you.”

Mr. Morgan chuckled again and looking at him for a second Emily saw him shaking his head. Again, she tried not to mind him.

“So, what do you like to do, besides reading?”

Mary-Beth seemed suddenly uncomfortable, just like she had asked her an impossible question.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Come on, there must be something. I like music, for example. What do you like?”

“I-I… I write, from time to time.”

“Hey that’s great! Do you write love adventures?”

“M-more or less.”

“And do you think you’ll publish them someday?”

“N-no, I don’t think so.” “Why?”

“Well, Karen always says my dream of becoming a writer is stupid and I…”

“Why would she say something like that?”

“I think you’ll soon find out Karen is a little too… practical sometimes” said Lenny from the front.

“But, isn’t she your friend?” Emily asked to Mary-Beth.

“Of course, that’s why she says these things, to save me from some delusion. At least, that’s what she tells me”

“I understand being down to earth is important, but you don’t have to give up on your dream, Mary-Beth. Dreams are important, they give us hope.”

“Oh please!” exclaimed Mr. Arthur from the front.

Emily looked again at his back, annoyed by his constant complaining. If he didn’t like the things she was saying, he could have said it to her face, not make grimaces behind her back like children do.

“Why it gives me the impression you don’t like what I’m saying, Mr. Morgan?” she asked.

“Because I don’t. It’s all bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit, it’s my opinion.”

“Well then, your opinion is bullshit. And you Mary-Beth, don’t let her put them stupid ideas in your mind.”

“I’m not putting any idea in her mind, and she’s not a child, she’s a woman, she perfectly knows how to think by herself and decide what is bullshit and what’s not.”

“I’m just saying writing is no job. It’s just a way to spend time.”

“Like you do, right Arthur? Don’t you have a little journal of your own?” asked Mary-Beth.

When Emily looked at her, she saw she had a little crooked smile on her face and they exchanged a complicity look. Sweet Mary-Beth had an evil side after all, and Emily liked it.

“Ah is that so? You scribble on a journal like a thirteen year old girl, Mr. Morgan?” Emily asked with a mellifluous tone.

“I just keep note of the important events, that’s all” he replied, but his voice betrayed some embarrassment, he’d got defensive.

“And the drawings are part of the important events, too?” asked Mary-Beth creeping in like a treacherous snake.

“So, you truly are a thirteen year old girl with her little secret diary. Any more embarrassing things I should know about you?” joked Emily.

“At least I’m not the one who tells stories about blood sucking people!”

“You should listen to yourselves! I thought to be the youngest here, but it seems we have two children Mary-Beth!” laughed Lenny.

“Hey, I’m not the one who started it!”

“Shut up, Arthur.”

...

Silence fell as Arthur felt ashamed for being called child by someone way younger than him. He whipped the horses and made them cross the train trails: they were close to town. Soon they would have found civilization! What a thrill…

“What about you Lenny? What do you like to do?” asked the new girl.

Arthur grunted, but soon tried to hide it with a cough. He didn’t want to sound as childish as they blamed him to be.

“I truly don’t know” replied Lenny.

“You don’t know how you spend time in camp?” asked the girl.

“Most of the time I spend trying to teach Sean how to read” he giggled.

Him and Arthur looked at each other and then they looked away as a veil of sadness fell on them all.

“Isn’t Sean one of those captured after Blackwater?” asked Emily.

Mary-Beth nodded and for some time they all stayed quiet.

Even though Lenny didn’t show it a lot, Sean’ absence was painful for him, he liked him and he missed him and the fact that they didn’t know where he was or if he was alive, made everything worse. He tried to focus the attention on something else.

“What are we going to do in Valentine?” he asked to Arthur.

“Just what we are supposed to. Go to the general store, buy supplies and come back right away.”

“We can’t go back so soon. I need to do something” said the new girl.

“What is it?” asked Arthur, but he already new the answer, she had told him the day before.

“I need to find some kind of job, something that could help us gain some money. And then I have to buy some clothes, so that I don’t have to borrow other people things. And then… I have to take a bath, I really do.”

“We’re going to stay all day” joked Lenny.

“No, we are not. We’ll split up, so we’ll take care of more things at a time” said Arthur, who had no intention to spend all day in town.

“I’ll go with Emily for the clothes and the bath” said Mary-Beth smiling at her.

Even if at the beginning she wanted to go with them to Valentine only to keep an eye on her, just like Miss Grimshaw had told her to do, she couldn’t deny Emily was funny and smart and sweet, everything that could make her a really good friend, and Mary-Beth knew how much she wanted a good friend.

Valentine was nothing but mud, sheep, and probably morons, just like Hosea had told them. As he led the wagon across the slimy street, Arthur looked around, studying the people faces, the buildings, the kind of movements that town had, and for a moment he doubted they were going to actually find something in that place, some opportunities. He stopped the wagon right in front of the general store so that it would be easier for them to load the supplies on the back.

“Alright folks, let’s get to work” he said jumping down.

“Ooh shit!” he heard the new girl’s voice saying and walking around the wagon he found her standing there with her feet among the mud and a disgusted face.

“What?” he asked.

She raised her eyes to look at him with the same angry expression he had seen on her the night before, with those thick blonde eyebrows curled on her big sparkling eyes.

“I’m covered in mud!” she squeaked.

She really wasn’t, there were a couple of mud drops on her legs, but nothing more, she had no idea of what the sentence “covered in mud” meant, and this annoyed Arthur, making him think how silly that girl was.

“Come, as you said you have to buy some new, right?” he said taking her arm and pushing her towards the general store entrance.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female oc #mary-beth gaskill #tilly jackson #karen jones #lenny summers

9 notes · View notes

jowritesthingss · 4 years

Text

A (Demi)Boy and His Demon: Prologue

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairing(s): LoSleep (Logic | Logan + Sleep | Remy)

Rating: Teen

Content Warning(s): lots of swearing, religion mention, demons mention, injury/blood (Remy gets a papercut)

Length: 1,418 words

Brief Summary: Sleep-deprived writer Remy accidentally summons a serious-and-seriously-fed-up demon named Logan. Prologue. In Which Remy Inadvertently Summons a Demon

Fic Masterlist!

In Remy’s defense, he hadn’t exactly meant to summon a demon in the middle of a coffee shop on just another typical Tuesday.

And they most certainly hadn’t meant to bind the poor sap to them for the rest of their (presumably now-shortened and miserable) life.

But there he was.

And that was exactly what he had done.

But—erm, well. We’ll get there.

“Remy!” a familiar voice chirped as said enby pushed the door open to his favorite haunt. “Do you how do?”

“Ugh. Like, horrible.” The answer was instinctual at this point. Usually it was just sarcastic, but on a deadline like this? Satan had nothing on the wrath of an editor.

The echo of the bell ringing bright through his ears, Remy walked over to the front counter, where his good friend and caffeine addiction enabler stood. They tried in vain to pretend that they were swaggering and not at all staggering from sleep deprivation and lack of caffeine.

“So it’ll be the usual for you, then, yeah?” Emile smiled, and god, for all the years they’ve spent working as a barista themselves, Remy would never understand how Emile could stay so upbeat while on-shift.

“You know it, gurl,” Remy answered, fishing out his wallet. “Although gimme the largest size this time, hun’.”

Emile clucked sympathetically, already turning and getting started on Remy’s iced coffee. “Deadline coming up?”

“Uh-huh. Tonight.” Remy sighed, slapping a ten dollar bill onto the counter. “I’m due to get the script for chapter sixty-nine to Remus, but like, he’s been too busy giggling over the number of the upcoming chapter to finish the one we’re supposed to publish tomorrow. Virgil’s on the warpath, and I’ve been roped into designing shit to make up for Remus falling behind.” He rolled his eyes.

“Golly, that sure sounds rough.” Emile slid some ice into Remy’s coffee before popping a lid on it, swirling it a couple times, and sliding it across the counter with some verbal sound effects to accompany it. He picked up the tenner and began to punch things into the cash register, counting out change for Remy. “But I believe in you!”

“Gurl, you shouldn’t. I don’t,” Remy snickered. They reached back into their bag, groping around for their reusable straw. Pulling it out, he popped it into his cup. “There’s a reason I’m the brains behind the writing of this operation, not the art. You think I’d be working with those idiots if I had a choice?”

“Yes, I do,” Emile said mildly. He handed over Remy’s change.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fair.” Shoving his change into the tips jar, Remy rolled his eyes. Again. They did that a lot. Which, how could he not, when he was surrounded by so many dorks?

“Anyways, I’ll be in my usual corner, I guess.” Remy jerked their head towards their usual corner table. “Lemme know if you need any help back there, babe. Or if any tea needs spilling.” They winked at Emile from behind their sunglasses before turning and heading to sit down.

Once seated, Remy pulled out his laptop and the battered spiral notebook that he kept most of his ideas for their comic in. Exchanging their sunglasses somewhat reluctantly for a pair of blue light glasses, he booted up his computer. Then, after setting everything up in its typical position and connecting to the wifi in the coffee shop, Remy allowed themself a moment to sit back and sip at their iced coffee.

The contrasting tastes of sweet white mocha and bitter coffee filled his mouth, and Remy felt his shoulders relax for what had to be the first time in twelve to twenty-four hours.

Classes earlier in the day had been an absolute nightmare of scribbling in margins and surreptitiously typing the script up on his phone when professors weren’t looking. Then the night before had been a horror-filled dream sequence of exhaustion and trying to write actual content down without falling asleep on the keyboard and waking up with the L key imprinted on their nose and sixteen pages of keysmashes.

So suffice to say, Remy was not having a good time. But the iced coffee? It warmed their gay little heart. It made things just a bit more bearable on days like this.

All too soon the buzzing of his phone reminded Remy of their subsequent impending deadline and doom, and he came crashing back down to earth.

Sipping once more at their iced coffee, Remy set it off to the side, slipping in his earbuds and focusing in on the Word document in front of him. They began to type.

Three hours and two refills later, Remy had finished chapter sixty-nine, had sent it to Virgil to look over, and had even started on chapter seventy for a good measure.

Until Virgil sent back his edits, Remy’s focus of the moment had shifted to designs for chapter sixty-six, which Remus should’ve started drawing a few days ago, but nooo, the asshat wasn’t even done shading sixty-five, which was supposed to be posted in...Remy consulted their phone...in roughly six hours now. Fuck.

Remy couldn’t draw for shit, but they could research like nobody’s business, and designing and sketching was simple enough, so he wasn’t entirely unused to getting dragged into stuff like physical character designs and the creation of symbols and outfits (Remus was far too oafish and uncoordinated when it came to fashion, anyway).

Shaky as Remy’s art was, Remus certainly knew how to pick out what he liked from Remy’s miserable excuses for sketches, at least, so their partnership worked well enough...even if Remy privately thought his similarly-named partner acted like a dolt and smelled like minute ramen (and not even the good kind! more like the shrimp kind, and what the fuck kind of imbecile eats shrimp-flavored microwave ramen).

Finally satisfied with the roughly-sketched summoning circle that they had copied from the web, Remy exited out of Google Images.

Summoning circles, Remy had to admit, were a new topic of research for him. Their story—a Good Omens-type comic centering around an angel and a demon trapped in the human world—had required plenty of research into religion and religious imagery, of which they had not been a fan, but for some reason summoning circles had never really cropped up on their radar.

Remy may not have been a fan of the concept of angels, but he certainly wasn’t a fan of the concept of demons and the occult, either, so digging through the ominously dark websites had been...interesting. Eventually they had just given up and straight-up copied a summoning circle at random. They could take that and go from there, adding their own flair to it.

Remy looked down at the shaky summoning circle he had sketched out before him. It was kinda lopsided, but it was whatever. It was also much too boring, if you asked him. When they sent Remus their final reference, they’d put a note in the margins telling him to add some of that weird gory imagery stuff he was obsessed with. “Creep would really like that, huh,” Remy muttered aloud to himself.

Scrutinizing the copied circle for a few more moments, Remy mentally listed out some of the changes they wanted to make—an extra line here, a circle there, take out that square—and they reached into their backpack for one of the random looseleaf sheets of paper he always had floating around in there. Only, they grabbed at the wrong corner of the paper.

Feeling the sheet of paper slice into their pointer finger, Remy quietly hissed out a breath. “Fuck.” He drew his finger out of the bag, pulling it up to his face to get a good look at the injury, and shit, the papercut was bad enough that it was actually bleeding.

“Goddammit,” Remy cursed as a few drops of crimson splattered onto the paper in front of them, blurring over the details of the summoning circle he had drawn.

Remy popped his finger into his mouth and sucked at the smidgen of blood leaking out. Deciding to actually look at what they were sticking their hand into this time, they turned to the left, fully intending to practically stick his head into his bag to find a napkin and that pesky sheet of paper both.

This was how they came to be aware of the person who appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, to stand to the side of their table.

Prologue || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

This was supposed to be a one-shot, but Remy told Logan to hold their coffee and then bullied me into making it a prologue and six chapters’ worth of useless gays. I accept my defeat with dignity and insist that it was, in fact, actually my decision in order to get used to writing multi-chap things again before I tackle my Big Bad AUs.

Want to be added onto any of my taglists? Shoot me an ask or a message here or via my other social media!

4 notes · View notes

polygamyff · 4 years

Text

52.

“So I booked in your jet for Milan on the weekend” Ally walked into my office saying “what for?” I mumbled as I continued to type up an email to one of my directors “because you and Shawn are going on a boys little time away, right?” Ally said “shit!” I spat before hitting my hand on the desk, sitting back on my chair rubbing my face “fuck!” shaking my head “is it that bad?” Ally stared at me all wide eyed “not that, I forgot so I never told Robyn at all. I have had so much on my mind that I forgot, shit. I can’t cancel it because Shawn will be upset but then I haven’t told Robyn and I know what she is like, I am not stupid so now I am stuck on this” I sighed out saying “you have been very in your own thoughts recently, erm. How about you take her home some flowers and break it to her nicely. Say you need time away, you have been stressed I am sure she will understand do not go there and say it is a boy’s time away, that won’t work. Just say you forgot, you have been stressed but me and Shawn have decided to have a nice little break away to clear my thoughts” I pointed at Ally “see it sounds good, now if I can say it like that she will be fine but I always end up fucking it up because I am stupid. But it is just a break away, nothing more. Stupid Shawn, can you book in some flowers I will try it your way but if it goes wrong I will blame you, sorry not sorry” Ally laughed “I think she will understand because I have seen it with you, you have been ever so stressed. And I don’t blame you at all. I mean now you tell me your dad is getting you married to Robyn? How sweet is that” nodding my head slowly “but I am happy for you, with Jay. He is a good guy; I know he’s gone back to Cali for a while but he’s good and you’re good. Glad you both are together now” Ally chuckled “yeah he said, I mean we had a very big talk and we spoke on me and you. He said Robyn gave him advice, told him to wait because she is or was in love with Maurice and has been hurt by him, she said I know Maurice and I can imagine how he was” raising an eyebrow “she really said that?” I questioned “Jay said it, he said he asked for advice and that she thinks I still hold feelings for you and that it will take time, but she blames you for being the asshole” letting out an oh “that is nice to hear ain’t it, I mean are you?” I asked, I might as well ask “you know Maurice don’t play dumb with me, it’s called getting on with it. You know that, not my fault she knows you. But I will order those flowers” Ally walked out of my office, am I an asshole, I have no idea.

Closing my office door “your box of Roses” Ally pointed at the ground and then seeing a circle box “fifty red roses, don’t mess it up. Don’t make it sound like it’s a boy’s time away either” picking the box from the floor “I won’t and erm, about in the office. What was said, I shouldn’t play on that. Erm” chewing on my bottom lip “I think you will be able to have a better time with Jay, I wish I didn’t yeah, but it happened and Robyn, she needs to not say that kind of stuff. I didn’t know” I really didn’t think Robyn would be saying anything like that about me “it’s ok, she was giving Jay advice about me and I am not upset about it at all, I think it was good of her to tell him to wait for me. I don’t blame her” nodding my head, it is nice that she doesn’t see it as that “cool, I will see you next week. Preparing for California” holding my fist out, Ally laughed fist bumping me “we will, have a safe flight” walking off “I will do, bye everyone. Have a safe weekend, and don’t do what I would do” I laughed walking towards the elevator “maybe we want to be you!” one of the workers shouted “oh trust me, you don’t. But fun times next week, a lot of partying and celebrations for us all” pressing the elevator button.

Daddy duties include me picking Reign up from day care, I do love to see it when she sees me. It makes me so happy “hi Mr Davenport, how are you?” Thelma asked “I am ok, yourself? I hope Reign has been an angel” I can only hope “she has been showing off her fancy footwork anyways, she knows when to do it, when to start her venture of her little steps. She loves when you hold her hands and help her walk, that little giggle of hers” I nodded my head laughing “I don’t know why but she adores it, she probably feels safe that way, but I don’t know. I can hear her now, is that what she is doing now?” I asked “she is, there” Thelma pointed, seeing the biggest smile on my daughter’ face as she turned the corner while one of the workers held her hands as she walked “so many steps Reign! Oh wow!” Thelma said “hey Mi Amor, what is this? Oh my god” Reign is drooling and smiling “mommy put you in sweatpants and sneakers, are those air force ones? Oh wow, I have a son now” crouching down to her “awww daddy missed you so much” getting my arms out to her, the lady let go of Reign’ hands in the last few steps Reign fell into my arms “oh wow, my baby” hugging her “missed you baby, you are being a big girl aren’t you” Reign giggled as I pressed kisses to her cheek but also feeling her saliva all on my face “love you so, so, so much” picking Reign as I stood up “she has been great, today. Even with her teething she has been incredibly happy, wanting to play. She wants to walk, she is unsteady of course but she has been a little diamond” this is what I want to hear, my daughter doing good.

Reign wants to play with Robyn’ box of roses “Reign, Mi Hermosa. You need to sit on my lap, come” placing Reign back on my lap “daddy loves your outfit, now I can imagine what my son will look like. Not as cute as you but I can see it” touching her sneakers, I love them. Reign huffed out trying to go back to the box “excuse me, don’t be trying to move my hand away and huff at me” Reign looked at me while sucking on her bottom lip “Ok grandma, old lady. What is it” Reign got annoyed and stopped trying to move my hand “you want a rose too? Ok” sitting Reign next to me, opening the box “so that means your mom will only have forty nine, which may cost me. Like seriously, it may cost me” carefully taking one red rose out “but you are my Mi Amor, so you will get a rose. From me” closing the box, turning a little in the seat “you can’t put this in your mouth, but look” holding it out to Riegn, she is so confused just staring at it “it’s nice baby, look” touching the rose lightly on top “it’s ok to touch Reign” placing it in her lap, Reign looks so offended she don’t understand it at all. I chuckled while picking her up and placing Reign on my lap “don’t forget your rose beautiful” placing it back in her lap, she looks so worried about this rose that I keep giving her. Look at that, checking my phone, my dad has messaged me. Like he took hours to answer me back, annoying “shall we take a picture, however your mom does this shit” opening my camera “let’s turn it to us, I know your mom says angles but what do I know” looking at Reign, she is finally holding the rose. Holding the phone up, trying to get the angles “Reign! Look, say cheese!” I grinned, Reign did look up thinking what the hell “cheese!” I said again before smiling and Reign did it, she did cheese which was the goofiest shit on earth and made me laugh but I took it so quick “oh wow Reign, you are a mess” looking at the picture, why did I have to laugh now you can’t see my eyes at all but the picture is cute as shit, I must say so myself. I have to post this on my Instagram, I don’t really post anything on here just the odd promo pictures “you know your mom won’t like it, because you draw all the bitches to my comments. They all call me daddy, I mean that is a secret between us” what caption can I put on this, Reign slapped my phone out of my hand “thank you daughter” I scoffed, reaching down and picked it up “ok so back to the caption” typing out the caption ‘Being her father is the best’ it’s sweet, it’s sweet enough not to have stupid comments “there we go, now we are famous” posting the picture.

Poking my lips out, my daughter is legit holding her own food, she is sat on my stomach with her snack plate on my chest and watching Mickey “I am jealous of your life” Reign picked another puff glaring at me “sorry” I spoke, she is growing too quickly for me. I don’t like it, I mean she is making a mess but she is learning and to be honest, I want her to be a baby still. Hearing my phone buzz for like the hundredth time, reaching my hand down to the side of the couch and grabbing my phone without interrupting Reign “da!” Reign shouted, looking over at her. She showed me her hand “yes I see baby, it’s a mess. You eat, it’s ok” tapping on Robyn’ comment and unlocking my phone to check on what she put on Instagram, the comment popped up ‘why does she take nice pictures with you but not me!? I have been trying to get her to do cheese for so long!’ Robyn needs to understand who is the better parent in this, commenting back to Robyn ‘You need to understand she loves daddy more then you, as you can see’ she will be so jealous of that, good. Scrolling back up on the page, now I see why this has blown up like crazy, Beyoncé has commented. I get why now; I need to turn it off because it’s driving me crazy ‘I love you Reign x’ that was cute of her “you won’t appreciate this right now but Beyoncé loves you Reign” she is going to love this when she is older, let me comment back ‘she loves you too, will set another play date at the home’ pressing send and then moving on to see others “ok Reign, I think you’re too famous for me now” it’s funny to see that the girls I fucked with are still commenting about what a great dad I am and stuff, let me put my phone down now. That is enough for me for one day.

Staring at Reign from the couch in the corner of her room, it’s a baby couch for her to sit on but I am. So, Reign has decided to be a brat, to stand up in the crib and shout. This child is not even one and she is doing this, she knows I am here. The night light she has is exposing that, but I want her to sleep and coming up and down is not it, she is screaming the place down, and it’s for the fun of it too. There are no issues, she has her pacifier, her bubzy and she has been fed so this screaming is for no reason at all “right!” I spat, walking over to the light switch “you are working my nerve” switching the lights on “what?” Reign giggled; she laughed her heart out “you need to sleep! Baby what?” turning the light off, making my way to the crib “dada!” Reign screamed out “you what!? What did you say, did you say dada” I feel emotional, looking around me “Reign” Reign is just shouting dadadada “you’re going to make me cry, you really saying it or just playing around” I love this girl so much, climbing into the crib carefully “daddy will lay with you, come” laying on my side “come on baby, you have made me so happy” Reign let go and sat on me “you’re so silly” I chuckled, her diaper butt all in my face.

My daughter is drifting off to sleep but then wakes up and then sleep, my legs are cramping but it’s ok. My daughter wants me to hold her hand while she sleeps well I guess I got to do it and if I move she will wake up and I don’t want that either, this girl has changed me so much. I mean of course Robyn has helped but having a daughter, it’s amazing. I don’t care, I will be a fool for her so she can smile. I can’t wait for her to be talking so much, she is going to be telling me how it is, and I know she will be. Telling me off, I know that is coming with Reign. Stifling out a yawn, I am about to fall asleep with Reign. Seeing the light seep in even more and the room become brighter, lifting my head up “it’s me” Robyn said in a whisper “I was asking Krista, and I look at the monitor and I see you here” Robyn made her way over to the crib “awww, my heart. Oh my god. Maurice, this is so cute. Is she asleep?” nodding my head “Krista said Reign was playing up, glad she is asleep now. I am home anyways, I missed both of you so much. Honestly, love you both” smiling lightly at Robyn, now I need to climb out of the crib.

I groaned out sitting down at the table with Robyn “and I see this!? Roses for me?” nodding my head smiling “for you baby, there is one rose missing. I mean you saw the picture she was playing with it. So you had a good day? And I didn’t make the, I ordered it in. I was tired” Robyn touched my face cooing out “you’re so cute, I am so happy to see the roses, they are beautiful” I smiled at Robyn “I am tired to be honest but, I need to say something to you. So” Robyn has really placed her fork down which made me laugh a little “what?” I chuckled “just you going all serious on me, I promised Shawn that I would go to Milan with him, he’s like telling me how upset he is I am not spending time with him and also I am feeling stressed about things so like, we thought we would go there for a weekend but I forgot to tell you, I have had so much going on” I hope I explained myself right “the issue with this is that I am on call for this weekend, they could call me in and then what? Leave Reign here?” letting out an oh “well I can change it up, I will take Reign with me. I can do it” I shrugged, Robyn laughed “sure Maurice” clearing my throat “I am not joking Robyn, let me take her with me. Some time away, she is a good girl. You won’t be worried, and you can do the on call thing, I forgot about that. I will go Spain instead, see Mami” Robyn took in a deep breath “fine, you go and clear your mind with Shawn, and if you think you are ok, take Reign with you. But she is walking remember” I am sure Shawn won’t mind “don’t be so scared to tell me things, I trust you baby” I am glad to hear that from Robyn “I think you need to clear your mind too, I wish I could keep Reign but I am scared if they call me in then what do I do. You spend time with Paula” this is different, I did not expect Robyn to be ok with this or even seeing Paula, she didn’t want to see her at all, why the change.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Fanfic #Fanfiction

6 notes · View notes

saltybaltic · 6 years

Text

Natasha Romanoff X Reader - CAT WALK

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow X FemReader Fanfic

Synopsis: Being friends with Natasha isn’t always easy, especially when you’re supposed to be helping her pick an outfit and you’re struggling to keep your mind out of the gutter.

Warnings: Language, smut

Words: 5061

Okay so this is request number one that I have waiting and it was from @therecanonlybethree . I’m trying to do these asks in the order that I received them in the interest of fairness so please be patient if you’ve sent in a request, I promise I’ll get to it. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this, in all honesty I think it’s total trash but I’m super struggling with a block at the minute so I’m not at all surprised it sucks. I have four other requests waiting after this but don’t hesitate to send in more, I love having stuff to work on. Let me know what you think of this, for the record you are all thirsty, thirsty little sinners and I love it. Enjoy!

Masterlist now in bio!

Looking up from the book in your hands, you watched the woman who had burst into your bedroom with all of her usual respect for your privacy, dumping an assortment of shopping bags onto the mattress beside you and letting out a dramatic sigh.

“Oh my god, I’m so stressed.” she huffed out, collapsing into the chair by your desk and looking across at you.

“Please come right in.” you muttered dryly, turning your attention back to what you were reading

Natasha blew out another exasperated breath, “I’ve been shopping all day for something to wear to this damn conference on Thursday and I literally hate everything I’ve bought.”

“So why buy it then?” you asked, not sounding in the least bit interested in her problem.

“Hey, will you ...” she reached forward, snatching the book out of your hands and throwing it to one side causing you to look up and scowl, “I need your help.”

Narrowing your eyes at her, you gave the red head an unimpressed look, “With what exactly?”

“I need you to tell me what to wear.”

“Nat, you know how to dress yourself, you know how good you look, you’re more than aware what suits you and what doesn’t. You really don’t need my help.”

It was likely that you sounded like a pretty bad friend but there was no denying that what you were saying was true; Natasha certainly wasn’t low on self confidence and you couldn’t think of a single time when you had seen her look anything short of gorgeous.

“Yes but this is completely different, this is a massively important conference, they already all hate me up there and I need to make a good impression.”

You shrugged indifferently, reaching forward to grab your book again, “Just wear something tight and low cut, I’m sure that’ll win them over.”

Slamming her hand down on top of the book before you could reach it, Natasha threw it to the other side of the room, “Flashing a bit of cleavage is not going to cut it this time.”

“Would work on me.” You muttered, smiling at her playfully, “Never could say no to a pretty girl in a nice dress.”

“Yes well you,” she paused as she got to her feet and pushed the side of your head teasingly, “Have a one track mind.”

You grinned back at her, “I like hot women, is that a crime?”

“No.” She started, picking up one of the bags and tipping it upside down so the contents landed on the mattress, “But refusing to help your best friend is so ... you’re going to let me try on these clothes and you’re going to tell me which ones look best.”

“Do I have to?” You groaned, throwing yourself back onto the mattress in dramatic fashion with your limbs spread out like a star fish.

Picking up the room separator in the corner, she pulled it open so that it would stand, balancing her first outfit over the top of it, “Yes.”

You watched her curiously as she picked up the rest of the bags and put them where she clearly planned to get changed, “It’s not like you to be so modest, what’s with the blinds?”

“I don’t want you to see the clothes until they’re all on ... don’t worry, I’m still not modest.” As if to prove her point she unfastened the first few buttons of her shirt, spreading it open to reveal her cleavage as she leaned forward with a shake of her chest in your direction.

You snorted out a laugh at the action, “Yeah yeah I get it, come on let’s get this over with.”

Natasha didn’t say anything and simply offered a smirk, undoing the rest of the buttons as she stepped behind the screen and pulled off the rest of her clothing, “Okay so this dress ... I’m not really sure about. It’s black so naturally it’s amazing but I don’t know whether it’s a bit too ... I dunno, revealing.”

Muttering a generic reply, your mind started to drift in a matter of seconds as you lay sprawled on the mattress, not even marginally paying attention to whatever else Natasha was saying. This wasn’t the first time she had insisted on you helping her pick something to wear, the mere notion of her requiring your assistance in the fashion department completely ludicrous to you as you knew virtually nothing about what looked good on a person. The idea of trying on outfit after outfit was the most boring way you could think of to spend an afternoon and it was difficult for you to pretend to care when Natasha asked for you to pass judgement on her clothing.

“So what do you think?”

Your attention drifted back to the task at hand, propping yourself up on your elbows so that you could see the other woman better and tilting your head to the side as you scanned her up and down, “You look nice.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Nice? I’m going for just the right balance of sexy and professional ... does this do it?”

“You know better than me Nat.” You sighed, sitting a little further up and studying her more closely, “I mean you look good ... really good, that dress is incredible but I dunno if it’s very professional ... I see a lot of skin.”

Gesturing at you with her hand, she gave you a half smile, “See that’s what I wanted, thank you. Get the zip for me.”

“Now you’re making me get up?” You huffed out an annoyed breath as you sat up on your knees, shuffling to the edge of the mattress and beckoning her towards you until she stood at the foot of the bed with her back to you, “I was having a nice relaxing afternoon before you came in here hassling me.”

“Oh please, you were sat on your ass doing nothing as always.” Teased Natasha, stepping back behind the blind once you had pulled the zip down and rifling around in one of the bags for another outfit. “You need to get out more.”

“I get out plenty I will have you know.”

Even though you couldn’t see her, you could hear the grin on Natasha’s lips, “You need to get laid so you can stop checking me out all the time.”

“Fuck you.”

Peaking her head around the side of the wooden screen, Natasha gave you a smirk, “I knew that’s what you wanted.”

“You’re seriously too much sometimes.” you muttered, trying not to smile at her behaviour as she disappeared again and continued pulling on clothes. “Plus it’s not exactly easy to meet people given our job and such ... the whole thing is way too hard to explain.”

“So don’t explain.” suggested Natasha, finishing pulling on a suit jacket as she stepped back into view and ran her hands over her clothing to straighten it out before looking up at you expectantly, “Well?”

Scrunching up your nose in concentration, you skimmed your eyes over the other woman, taking in what she was wearing and trying to come to what you hoped was a helpful suggestion, “The dress was better.”

“But this is a suit, it’s way more smart and professional.”

“Yeah and it kind of looks like you’ve dressed yourself up in a power suit so that you can go in there and swing your dick around like you usually do and they’re not exactly going to like that are they Natasha?”

She rubbed at her face in frustration, “Okay well what if I wore a skirt and heels instead of the trousers?”

“I guess.”

Popping open the button on the front of her trousers, Natasha pulled a face at you before turning back to grab what she needed from her shopping bags, “You are borderline useless, you know that?”

“Wow, and I love you too.”

She didn’t take long to change into the skirt, slipping a pair of heels onto her feet as she hopped into view before standing up straight and presenting herself to you again, “Okay, how about now?”

Looking across at your friend this time, you had a noticeably different reaction to how she was dressed. The red shirt underneath her jacket had the first few buttons unfastened, showing just the right amount of cleavage to draw attention but not too much that it would be considered poor taste. The jacket she had on over the top fit her shape perfectly, accentuating her curves and showing off her figure. The same could be said for tight, black skirt that she had paired it with, cutting off just above the knee and allowing you to enjoy the sight of her toned legs. You had to remind yourself that it was your friend you were looking at and somehow managed to kick your brain into gear, swallowing hard and clearing your throat as you nodded your head encouragingly.

“Much better.” You internally cringed at how hoarse your voice sounded and you could have sworn that a flash of amusement flickered across Natasha’s face for the briefest second.

“You’re sure?” she asked, turning on the spot and doing an over the top twirl so that you could see the whole thing. You had to literally will your eyes not to drop to her ass as she span around, trying to ignore the hammering of your heart in your chest and mentally chiding yourself for even entertaining the idea of looking at Natasha in such a way. “I was leaning towards the trousers just because I don’t want it to be like ... too sexy secretary, you know?”

Wetting your lips in a bid to get some moisture into your mouth, you prayed your voice would come out even, “No you ... erm ... you look good.”

“So you don’t? Think this is too sexy?”

If you didn’t know any better you would have sworn she was trying to kill you by means of inappropriate arousal as she turned again, this time hiking the skirt up a little further as she studied herself in the full length mirror on your wall.

“Is there really such a thing as too sexy?” You attempted, not really wanting to answer her question and hoping you could just dodge it with one of your own.

“You tell me.” she said, shooting you a grin over her shoulder before removing the jacket and throwing it back towards the bags, “Although I think the dumb look on your face says enough.”

You were relieved that she turned her head again after her statement so she couldn’t see the furious blush that was now rising up your neck, feeling suitably embarrassed that she had called you out on what must have been quite obvious gawking. Raking your fingers through your hair, you cleared your throat awkwardly as she disappeared again, “I don’t look dumb.”

Natasha laughed from behind the blinds, “Maybe dumb isn’t the right word.”

“You’re getting a little full of yourself.”

She peered around the blinds, a taunting smile still very much glued to her face, “Well you can hardly blame me, being stared at like a piece of meat can be a bit of an ego stroke.”

“I wasn’t staring.”

“You were practically drooling.” joked Natasha, immensely enjoying teasing you as she vanished from view and startled digging around in another bag, “Now there’s one more thing I bought.”

Flopping backwards on the bed again you let out an over the top groan, “No, we were done, we picked one.”

“Stop being a baby, I just want your opinion on one more thing. Try to keep your tongue in this time.”

“Oh shut up I’m only human, you know you’re hot.”

Natasha chuckled, “See, I told you that you need to get laid.”

“I know, I know ... it’s just hard to get out there and meet someone nice and normal.” you grumbled, sitting up on the bed again and toying with a loose thread on the edge of the duvet, “It’s either bat shit crazy women who lose their head over the idea of sleeping with one of The Avengers, or women who run in the opposite direction because they’re completely terrified of me. I don’t actually know which is worse.”

Natasha laughed again, “Yeah I know what you mean .. there are alternative options though.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah I mean, there are women who don’t find you terribly awe-inspiring or terrifying.”

Letting out a long sigh, you shook your head gently, “Well maybe you should let me know where I can find one of these mysterious women.”

“They’re everywhere if you look properly.” answered Natasha, pausing for a few moments before trying to get your attention again, “So, what do you think of this?”

As she spoke again, you looked up from the blanket you were idly playing with and you were fairly certain your jaw hit the floor and your heart stopped. The sound that left your lips was nothing short of embarrassing, some sort of unintelligible mix between a whimper and a strangled cry as you tried to get your mind to process the sight in front of you.

“Do you like it?”

The answer to her question was obvious: what wasn’t to like? But it surprised you just how much you liked it when you knew for a fact you shouldn’t. Natasha had stripped herself of the suit she had previously been wearing, however the heels remained. The only thing covering her body was the lingerie set that she stood in, breasts practically spilling out of the black lace and thighs wrapped with garter straps. You felt like you were burning up just looking at her, unable to drag your eyes away or form any kind of words. Your mouth bobbed open and closed a few times as you attempted to come up with some response for her but it was futile. She took a small step forward, your eyes drawn to the action and watching as one of her heels sank into the carpet.

“I’m going to take your none answer as a yes.” stated Natasha, taking another step forward so she was now just in front of you at the foot of the bed. She placed one hand on her hips and used the other to press under your chin and tilt you head up to look at her, “Want more?”

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you finally regained the ability to speak, albeit it not by much, “More?”

She knelt down slightly, placing her hands on the mattress either side of you to box you in as she set her face in front of yours, “I mean ... you don’t just have to stare you know.”

“But ...” you fought with all of your will power to keep your eyes level with hers, “This is ... we’re just friends.”

“True.” agreed Natasha, lifting one hand from the mattress and running her index finger lightly along the underside of your jaw, “Is that all you want though?”

“I ... errr ... I ... well I never really ... thought about it.” you wanted to punch yourself for how pathetic you sounded.

The grin that traced it’s way over Natasha’s lips was almost terrifyingly intimidating, “I don’t believe you.”

“Okay ...”

“Because we’ve been friends a long time now and I don’t think we’ve ever just been friends have we? I know that the way you look at me sometimes isn’t exactly friendly ... and I can certainly say the same for myself.”

At her words, you finally seemed to regain to ability to get yourself together, having had enough of nonsensical yammering and actually attempting to hold a conversation, “That’s a bold assumption to make.”

“If you don’t like what you see, I can always put some clothes on and we can both go back to pretending this isn’t what we want and just being friends.”

“Or ...”

Her grin broadened, leaning a little further forward so her face was barely an inch from your own, her arms still trapping you in place, “Or we could have sex, your call.”

You probably should have hesitated. This was such a line to cross after all of your time knowing Natasha and there was certainly no going back from it. Things had arguably already gone too far the second she modelled her finest lingerie for you but anything more was definitely a step further than it would be possible to recover from. However there was no denying how your body had reacted to her. You couldn’t even attempt to hide how impossibly turned on the sight of Natasha in her underwear had made you. There was nothing in this world that could have made you tear your eyes away from her and it seemed that it had caused all rational thought to go out of the window because instead of putting a stop to what was happening, for some reason you decided to escalate it, sitting up properly on the edge of the bed and placing your hands on her waist to tug her towards you.

The force of your action caused her to stumble slightly and she placed her hands on your shoulders to keep her balance, allowing you to pull her closer. She separated her legs to step either side of where you were perched, moving forward just a little until she was able to settle on your lap, arms still wrapped around your body. She breathed out a laugh at the urgency of what you had done, one hand travelling up the back of your neck and into your hair, “I assume you’re voting in favour of plan B then.”

“What was plan B again?”

Obviously deciding a demonstration would be more effective than a vocal response, Natasha tightened her fingers on the back of your head and pulled your face towards her so she could press your lips together. She held onto your body tighter, pushing down into your lap and sliding her body closer as her tongue slipped into your mouth, a satisfied moan vibrating against your lips. You had been just a little concerned that kissing Natasha would be weird or there would be a lack of chemistry given how long the two of you had been friends but as she sucked your tongue into her mouth and a wave of arousal swept over your body, you quickly realised that you needn’t have worried.

The kiss became heated in no time at all, her fingers lost in your hair as your hands moved to her thighs, running slowly up and over the garter straps and settling on her hips. Gripping her waist tight you pulled her body into you and Natasha released a groan of approval into your mouth as your stomach pressed satisfactorily in between her legs.

She broke the kiss to push out a heavy breath and you instinctively attached your lips to her jaw instead, working your way to her neck and down her throat as she whimpered at each kiss and nibble to her flesh. Her fingers tightened in your hair, holding you against her as she began to rock her hips against your body, moving almost impatiently in your lap the more worked up she became.

Moving one hand to cup the side of your face, Natasha tilted your head slightly so her lips were closer to your ear, biting down on your lobe as she lowered her voice, “Touch me.”

You ran your hands a little further up her body, moving slowly over her rib cage as you leaned back, finally separating your lips from her skin so that you could look back at her. The dark shade of green staring back at you nearly took your breath away, her lips pinker and cheeks more flushed than usual. Her chest was rising and falling fast as she tried to get her breathing in check and you were certain that you had never seen someone look so completely stunning and captivating in your life.

Dancing your fingertips over her ribs you watched her squirm slightly under your touch and felt the goosebumps rising, “What do you want Nat?”

At first she didn’t say anything, resting her forehead against yours as she moved to take one of your hands in her own, lowering it from her sides until it was between her legs. You didn’t need her to guide you any further and as you reached forward just the small distance required and grazed your fingers over the lace of her panties, her breathing hitched and her eyes fluttered closed before nodding her head hurriedly in approval, “I want you inside of me.”

Her request made your stomach flip and conjured a strong twinge of arousal. You were conflicted between being so impossibly turned on by the minimal clothing she was sporting and wanting to enjoy it some more, or instead tearing the entire ensemble from her body so that you could see even more of her. Impatience won in the end, crashing your lips against hers once again as you moved your hand further down, thumb brushing firmly over her clit through her underwear on the way and earning you a twitch of her body and a whimper into your mouth. The kiss had slowed slightly but it was no less intense, her tongue brushing firmly over your own or occasionally biting down on your lower lip in an attempt to stifle another moan.

It surprised you how quickly and how thoughtlessly you had become lost in her. You couldn’t remember ever having as much desire for someone as you did for the woman currently straddling your lap and for some reason it didn’t seem to matter at all that she had simply been your best friend just a little while ago and this was new and unexplored territory. Every noise she released was like music to your ears and every new inch of her flesh you explored only made you hungry for more. You wanted to turn her into a writhing, moaning mess and have her calling out in pleasure and you had every intention of getting what you wanted.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you slipped her panties to one side, running a finger along the length of her pussy. She arched her back into the contact, her lips breaking from yours with the force of the movement as she dug her fingernails into your shoulder blades in anticipation of what would be next. You almost groaned out in appreciation at how wet she was already, the feeling of her arousal coating your fingers something you were sure you could never get enough of.

Natasha tore her lips away from yours to once again settle them by your ear, this time sucking the lobe into her mouth as you glided your finger over her again, dipping slightly lower so you could brush over her clit. The heavy sigh she released against your wet skin caused a tingle that set the hairs on the back of your neck on end. Natasha’s hips jerked against you as you grazed her clit again, the contact tortuously light and she was visibly desperate for more.

She whimpered against the side of your neck, sinking her teeth into your skin as you circled over her clit more firmly, “Yes, more ... please.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at her request. It wasn’t often Natasha would ask for something from someone else, much less that she would sound so frantically desperate for it. It was rare you had the upper hand and you couldn’t help the feeling of satisfaction it gave you that you had the power to give or deny her what she wanted. Deciding to relish the moment for just a fraction longer, you raised your other hand to her face, gripping her chin and tilting her face up to look at you as you pressed a lingering kiss to her lips, “How badly do you want it?”

Huffing out a breath, an almost pained expression formed on Natasha’s face at your question, unable to stop the impulsive rock of her hips against your hand in a bid for more of your touch, “Don’t be a tease.”

“Answer my question.”

As you circled your fingers over her again and added more pressure, Natasha released what sounded like a growl and you could see that she was reluctant to admit to just how much she wanted you, “Are you really going to make me beg for it?”

You grinned back at her, never ceasing the lazy movement of your fingers, “That sounds fun.”

“You know I’ll get you back for this.” breathed out Natasha, still moving her hips impatiently in time with your hand in a futile attempt for more friction where she wanted it.

“Mhmmm, I’m sure you will.” you answered quietly, fingers dipping down a fraction further and circling teasingly around her entrance, “Now tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.”

A frustrated whine rumbled in the back of her throat and she leaned forward so she was able to snag your lower lip between her teeth, biting down harder than before as she gripped your face roughly in her hands and looked back at you, “Put your fingers inside of me, and fuck me hard ... please, I’m begging you, I need you.”

Her words were needy and heavy with lust and combined with the frantic look in her eyes they caused a prickly heat of arousal to sweep over your body that made it impossible for you to deny her any longer. In one swift motion you pushed two fingers inside of her, the moan of pleasure that sounded in the room sending a shiver down your spine. Her hands slipped around your neck and she gripped a fistful of your hair as she threw her head back and pushed her body into you. Building up a pace with your fingers you used your other hand to reach up and pull down one of the cups of her bra, leaning forward so that you could take her nipple into your mouth.

She practically purred in approval, holding your head against her as you swirled your tongue over the hardened peak and grazed your teeth over it earning you another moan as she arched her chest further into you. With each curl of your fingers you felt her tighten around you, hips working faster in time with you as she started to chase her release. Desperate pants for breath and loud moans of encouragement were all that could be heard as you curled your digits again, this time stretching your thumb upwards to press against her clit causing Natasha to throw her head back and grip onto you tighter.

Tearing your mouth away from her chest, you looked up at the woman currently unravelling in your lap and the sight of her alone could have made you come yourself. In all the time you had known Natasha you had always thought she was beautiful but in the throes of passion she was something else all together.

Leaning up so that you could reach, you pressed a sloppy kiss to the underside of her chin as you pumped your fingers into her harder, curling them again and hitting that sweet spot inside of her that pushed her ever closer to the edge.

“Oh fuck that feels good.” she sighed out, words just about coherent in between heavy breaths, “God don’t stop, I’m gonna come so fucking hard.”

Every word that left her lips was exactly what you wanted to hear and more, and combined with the heavy breaths and frantic moans you were sure you would never hear anything quite so incredible for the rest of your life. You could feel her beginning to clamp around your fingers, her legs tightening either side of your thighs and a noticeable tremble to her body. It was obvious she was close and you wanted nothing more than to feel her cry out in satisfaction and come around your fingers.

“You are so fucking sexy right now.” you praised, reaching up and pinching her nipple hard between your thumb and forefinger, “I wanna see you come for me ... that’s it.”

Your encouragement seemed the only thing she needed to tip her over the edge as with a final curl of your fingers and a firm press of your thumb against her clit, she arched her back further into you as she clamped her legs around you and her body shuddered as her orgasm washed over her. Natasha dropped her head to your shoulder, balling your shirt into her fists as a loud moan of your name sounded throughout the room. You were positive that you would never feel something so good for the rest of your life as she slowed the movement of her hips, riding out her orgasm as she came down from her high.

Lifting her head from your shoulder after a few moments, Natasha pulled you towards her and crashed her lips into yours, arms wrapping around your neck and holding your body to her own as she kissed you urgently. She released a soft sigh as you removed your hand from her panties so that you could snake your arms around her waist, running your hands eagerly over her skin.

When she finally broke the kiss, there was a wide grin plastered on her face, brushing her nose over your own before pushing you forcefully in the chest so you toppled back against the mattress. She removed herself from your lap, rising to her feet before kicking her heels carelessly across the room, “Clothes off, now.”

You returned the smile as she stepped back towards the edge of the mattress and you started to work on the buttons of your shirt.

“And I wouldn’t look so happy about it either.” stated Natasha flatly as she reached behind her back to snap open her bra, “You can be sure I’m about to have my revenge.”

Swallowing nervously, the smile didn’t falter from your face despite her threat. If there was one thing you were fairly certain of, it was that you were definitely going to enjoy Natasha’s idea of revenge.

2K notes · View notes

pacificwanderer · 5 years

Note

This is a complete crack anon post, but... every time I see a GIF of Ben from TLJ turning around shirtless, I have the Diet Coke Break commercial (available on YouTube but I can't include a link) from the 90s playing in my head. Tell me that Rey wasn't one of those women gawking at him before she turned her head. I dare you. :D

LOLLLLLLLLLLLL

It’s been a while since I last thought of that commercial. Readslike a modern fanfic AU. In case anyone has no idea which commercial this is, here’s a video.It’s probably the most 90s thing I’ve seen in a while hahaha but hey, nice tocater to that female gaze a bit.

I remember thinking this commercial was so dumb when I was a kidHAHAHA NOW I’m like, shit I want a diet coke.

Ahahaha this made me laugh and inspired me haha.

Up on Ao3 for housekeeping purposes (I don’t trust this site notto delete my work). Best read while listening to this song by Selena.

Thanks for the ask, Nonnie! Cheers.

~~~~

“What are you staring at?” Rose whispers in her ear, which scaresthe absolute shit out of Rey.

“Me? What? Nothing. What are youstaring at?” she sputters.

Rose rolls her eyes. “Save it. You really thought you could keep ‘Mr.Hot Construction Guy With a Shirt Problem’ to yourself?”

“No, but I kind of hoped to,” Rey replied. “But I’ll share himwith you, and only you. Tell anyone else, and you’re dead to me, Tico.”

“Deal. Lunchbreak time starting now?”

“Looks like it,” Rey murmurs, words trailing off as he comes into view. Construction has been going on for what feelslike forever on the building next to them, but Rey won’t complain. She’s beentaking her breaks early for months just to keep catching a glimpse of the devastatinglyhot construction worker in the lot next to her office.

Selena’s I Could Fall In Love plays softly somewhere in theoffice as Rey stares while he sits, legs spread, sandwich in hand, as he eats.It really is so unfair that someone she didn’t even know could have such animpact on her life, especially considering the main show had yet to start forher.

At first, he didn’t take his shirt off. At first, he just satthere on the rigging, long legs dangling in the air, as he ate his lunch andread. Same book for months, looked like a doozy, and Rey had stopped just shortof getting some binoculars to find out what book it was so she could read ittoo.

Because that would be weird and obsessive and she was definitelyjust taking her lunch break at the same time, every day, in the same spot,because it was a cosmic coincidence and not because she wanted to keep watchingthe hot construction worker from afar. Not like she didn’t have a thing for tall,dark, and handsome, or anything.

Not like it hadn’t been forever since she’d last been out on adate. And, really, who needed dates when you had your own construction workerto lust—erm, lunch date with?

He was tall. So so tall in those work boots, but he moved with akind of grace that could only come after many, many years of working inprecarious situations. He didn’t seem to notice the danger, but he definitelynoticed the change in weather. As spring moved into summer, his flannel wasstripped away to reveal t-shirts that were just a tiny bit too small for him.

Which was convenient for Rey because she’d been trying to decidewhether it was the outline of his abs against the fabric or a trick of herimagination—it was his abs. Definitely. She could see that now.

Until that fateful day came. It was an unseasonably warm day, sohot that even Rey had foregone her normal pantsuit in favor of something alittle lighter and breezier. She’d taken up watch at her normal lunch spot,casually leaning and watching while trying not to look like she was casuallyleaning and watching but then it happened.

He stalked over to his spot, big feet striking against the beam ashe effortlessly balanced that big, broad body. T-shirt today with his workpants—white,thin. Hardhat—horrifically orange, which is the first thing to go. Lunchbox andsoda—probably a Diet Coke. He runs his fingers through his hair before sitting,but it wasn’t necessary. Hat or not, his hair is stupidly and unfairly perfect.

It was like clockwork. He’d eat his sandwiches—sometimes subs,sometimes what looked like pastrami, always two—an apple, break into his sodaand down the entire can in one go before turning to his book.

It was almost Diet Coke time, so Rey popped the tab on hers, andpressed it to her lips. Definitely not because she was imagining what it wouldfeel like to press against his lips. No, of course not. She also definitelyhadn’t picked up a Diet Coke habit either because of him. Of course not. He didn’teven know that she existed, so the idea that she’d do anything because of himwas laughable. She was laughable—her life was laughable—but at least shehad a nice view.

Rey looked away for a moment, contemplating all the ways in whichher life sucked as she sipped from her Diet Coke before she turned back to lookout the window and very nearly spat her soda out. He was sitting there, justlike always, but now his shirt was off. Definitely not like always.

Rey took a hard swallow and nearly choked on her drink as her mindreeled. He was stupid fucking ripped, just casually sitting there, ruining herlife with those broad shoulder and visible pecs. His arm flexed as he slowly liftedthe soda to his lips and Rey had never wanted to be a soda can more in herlife.

She sat, mouth open, eyes glued, pulse racing, as she watched. Shestopped short of leaning against the glass, but it was a challenge. HotConstruction Guy rolled his neck and stretched, almost as if he knew she waswatching, before reaching for his book, but instead of sitting and having aread, like always, he shifted around.

Legs spread on either side of the beam, he leaned back, book inhand over his head, as he lay and read in the sun. Rey looked around as if shewasn’t eating lunch alone and could ask someone whether her mind was playingtricks on her. It was not. He was laying there, sun shining down on hispale skin, as he read on his lunch break.

Shirtless. A little sweaty. Gleaming, even. Okay, glistening. Itwas unfair. Absolutely unfair. Could he see her? Did he know? Was there a god?Should she be embarrassed? Was this real? Rapid-fire questions ran through hermind until she settled, took a sip of her soda, and just stared.

Rey couldn’t be certain, but she thought it must have qualifiedfor one of the best days of her life. And then it happened again. And again.And again. And basically every day the sun was out and high in the sky.

Sometimes, he’d absently brush sweat from his neck or, evenbetter, his chest, while reading and Rey would imagine how it felt to be alittle bead of that sweat, pearling against his bright skin before drippingslowly before drawing his attention. There were all sorts of things she’d liketo do to him. Slowly. Sliding down the length of his big body just likethose obscene little drops of sweat.

Sometimes, he’d run his fingers through that dark, shaggy hair, andRey would wonder whether it was soft, or kind of coarse from the elements. Or whatit would feel like when she pulled him in for a kiss. Did he like having hishair touched? Would he like having his hair touched by her?

And then reality would set in, he’d finish his break, she’d finishher peanut butter and jam sandwich, and go back to work.

She debated going to talk to him, but what was she going to say? “Hi,I’ve been staring at you during your lunch break for months and, also, are yourmuscles as hard as they look?” Yeah, sure. And besides, the rest of the constructioncrew were kind of lewd to the office girls whenever they walked by and that wasthe last thing she wanted to voluntarily deal with. But watching? From afar? Noone could be disappointed by a hot man from afar, especially a hot man who likedto take his shirt off.

The weather started to change, and as summer rolled into fall, theflannel returned—except for those rare, unseasonably hot days where his shirtwas off, and Rey was all hot and bothered under he oversized pantsuit. Reyloved those days. But she also appreciated hot construction guy in flannel too.She contained multitudes.

A few weeks into September, Rey got a nasty case of the flu and wasoff work for nearly a week which was terrible because her benefits didn’t coversick days, so it meant working overtime for the foreseeable future. But theworst part, the absolute worst part? She misses her daily lunch breaks, whichmakes he feel almost as terrible as the flu.

Back at work and still a bit under the weather, she slips into theoffice, waves to Rose who is typing away, before immediately coming to a fullshop about six feet from her desk.

There. There is something on her desk. Something she’d only everseen through the panes of a window.

Big. Thick. Dark. And sitting right on her desk. She’d have knownthat book anywhere, evenif she didn’t know the title. Rey stalks closer to her desk, mistrusting herown eyes until it is in her hands—solid, heavy, well-read. The edges of thepages have been worried so much that she knows he’s read this story more thanonce.

Rey takes a look at the cover and cannot believe what she sees.The title stares back at her and she realizes she’s underestimated just howfucking hot this construction guy really is.

Wuthering Heights. Gothic romance. He’s been readinga gothic romance, over and over so frequently that the pages are worn. Howcould he be any more attractive to her? He was literally reading one of herfavorite novels and for some reason had left it on her desk.

Rey quickly snatches the book up and thumbs though the pages. Theysmell a little bit like gasoline, leather, and book—probably from being on theworksite. She realizes quite quickly that he must smell similar, and thethought overwhelms her so much that she has to take a seat at her desk.

“Fuck,” she whispers and Rose chuckles without looking upfrom her typewriter.

“He came by the other day,” she says while typing along.

“He came by? To see me?” Rey squeaks.

Rose fixes her glasses before answering and Rey just knows she’sdrawing out her answer to drive her nuts. “I didn’t see him come in, but Kaydeltook the book and the note for you—says he was really polite and kind of soft spoken,and dusty, totally dusty.”

“There’s a note?” Rey stammers.

“Oh yeah, she stuck it in the first page. I read it because I’m asnoop—nice penmanship too…” Rose says something else about big hands andtalents, but the blood is pumping so hard in Rey’s ears that she can’t hear athing.

There’s a fucking note and now I have to read it! She canbarely make her hands work as she flips to the front page. A piece of paper slipsout and falls onto her desk.

It has her name on it. He knows her name.

“How does he—?” Rey starts, but Rose interrupts.

“Know your name? Apparently, he’s come in before to ask about you.First time he left anything though.”

“And Kaydel didn’t think to tell me?”

Rose shakes her head. “It wasn’t Kaydel that took the messages—heralternate, Hux. And you know he’d just be jealous. So, are you going toread it, or just let it sit there forever?”

Rey takes a deep breath, and the letter flutters a little as she breathesout. “Okay. It’s fine, right? Only a letter from the guy I’ve been staring atthrough the window for months. Totally fine, right?”

Dear Rey,

We’re putting up the wall, so we won’t be able to take our normallunch date together for much longer. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to getcoffee? But maybe not. I had to try. Couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing youthrough the window any longer.

No pressure. I’ll wear a shirt. Maybe Sarge’s Deli? The pastramiis out of this world.

Call me?

Ben

“His name is Ben,” Rey murmurs as Rose nods while watching herreaction. He’d also left his phone number on the paper, which meant she couldactually call him and not just stare at him from her office.

“I think he took his shirt off to get my attention,” Rey marvels.

Rose nods sagely. “I’m beginning to get that impression too. Ben,though? Little name for a whole lotta man. Gonna call him?”

“I don’t know? Should I? He’s known that I’ve been watching him! Thisis so embarrassing!”

Rose rolls her eyes. “Look, hot construction guy just gave you a handwritteninvitation to get to know you town, and you’re worried about looking dumb?He has been watching you too, you know?”

“When you put it that way…”

“Call him. Go out for lunch. See how things go. Tell me all aboutit—spare no details. And then you can thank me later.”

“Thank you for what?”

“For covering for your ass when you come back late from lunch.”

“You really are the best. I don’t deserve you,” Rey starts, butRose waves her off.

“I am and you do. Just do one thing for me?”

“What?”

A devious grin worked its way onto Rose’s face as she demanded, “Lemmeknow whether his lips taste like Diet Coke.”

Rey blushed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

And she was definitely, definitely, going to do her best tofind that out for herself.

#90s nostalgia #reylo #asks and answers #anonymous asks #ask pacificwanderer #oh my god #there's a dieting disclaimer in this commerical #jesus LOL #diet coke #my writing #lol man I fell into a 90s nostalgia hole here #fic #reylo fic #long post #text #Anonymous

33 notes · View notes

queenofcats17 · 5 years

Text

His Perfect Lord

I saw this post and as usual, wanted to write something for it.

So, here’s a perfect Bendy helping give Sammy hope.

Sammy’s Lord was perfect, both in form and behavior. His Lord was completely on-model, behaving exactly the way he did in the cartoons. He was true perfection, something they all should aspire to achieve. Although, Sammy would admit, he hadn’t expected to encounter a perfect little cartoon demon when he’d begun worshipping Bendy. He’d anticipated something grander, perhaps a true demon. Bendy’s influence was far-reaching, felt by everyone in the studio, and yet he was barely two feet tall. But Sammy was nonetheless satisfied with the Lord he’d found. Because above all else, Bendy provided hope. He gave Sammy a reason to keep going, a reason to live. The studio could be a hopeless place sometimes. It was easy to become disillusioned and spiral into depression. Bendy didn’t like seeing other people sad. This had become clear in Sammy’s first meeting with the little demon.

Sammy had been alone in his sanctuary, crying. It had been one of his more lucid days, when he remembered who had once been and all he’d lost because of Joey’s madness. He’d been sobbing into his hands when he felt a gentle tug on his pant leg. He looked down, unsure who it could be. Sometimes Jack would come and visit him, but Jack didn’t usually come by when he was crying. To his surprise, he found a small on-model version of Bendy. It was standing beside his chair, one hand holding his pant leg while the other was on its hip.

“Why’re you crying?” The small creature asked. It was trying very hard to look annoyed, but he could see the concern in its pie-cut eyes.

“I’m...sad,” Sammy said slowly.

“Why are you sad?”

“Because I’m trapped in this body and this studio,” Sammy replied. “Joey stole away my whole life.”

“Oh. Right.” Its face fell. "’M sorry about that.”

“Where did you come from?” Sammy asked, turning to the creature. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“What do you mean?” It tilted its head to the side. “I’ve always been here. I don’t remember ever bein’ any other place.”

“So...Joey brought you into the world?”

“I think so.” The creature nodded, starting to fidget with its gloves. “I mean, I know he didn’t create me, but he brought me here.”

“So you’re...Bendy. Bendy the Dancing Demon.”

“Yep! That’s me!” It, no, he smiled wide.

“My Lord!” Immediately, Sammy dropped to the ground, pressing his forehead to the ground. “I’m so sorry! I should have recognized you! Forgive my impertinence!”

“Hey...” Bendy hunched his shoulders. “Don’t...Don’t do that. It’s weird.”

“But you’re my savior!” Sammy kept his head to the ground. “You will save us all!”

“Not you too.” Bendy groaned. Sammy frowned, then looked up at him. The Little Devil Darling looked noticeably uncomfortable.

“What do you mean, ‘not you too’?” He sat up. Some deeper part of himself looked at Bendy and saw a child, not the least because of the little demon’s small stature. Sammy could be crabby sometimes, but he was never one to be cruel to children. He liked children, he always had.

“Joey said stuff like that too,” Bendy said, kicking at the floor. “About how I was gonna save the company or something. But he was mean and he hurt people and I didn’t want to be around him.”

“That sounds like Joey,” Sammy replied without thinking, his voice shifting into the more put upon tone he’d had while still being human. “Always trying to pawn off responsibility onto other people.” Bendy stared at him for a moment before covering his face and beginning to giggle. Had Sammy still possessed blood, he was sure it would be rising to his face.

“M-My apologies.” He cleared his throat. “I lost my composure. I should not be so insolent around you, my Lord.”

“No no! It was funny!” Bendy insisted, grabbing Sammy’s hand. Sammy flinched away, which made Bendy draw back a bit.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, letting go.

“No, erm, it’s alright.” Sammy got back into his chair. “I was simply a bit surprised is all.”

“Okay.” Bendy’s shoulders were still hunched, staring at the ground. Sammy reached out and took Bendy’s hand, squeezing it comfortingly. Bendy’s head snapped up, eyes widening. His mouth formed a little ‘o’ of surprise, which made Sammy instinctively smile. Bendy grinned back, although his smile quickly fell a bit.

“I’ve heard some of your tapes.” He said. “You sound pretty upset in them. Did...Did you not like working here? Did you not like...me?”

“That’s not it.” Sammy shook his head. “I liked working here, I think.” He pursed his lips, adjusting his mask a bit.

“It’s hard to remember.” He admitted. “But I think I did like working here. Writing songs for the show was fun. Especially when I was writing for Susie.” He smiled wistfully before the smile vanished. “It was Joey I hated working for. He sucked the joy out of the whole thing.” He spat out Joey’s name as though it were poison. His mind was clearer than it had been in ages.

"All the other tapes I listened to seemed pretty mad at Joey too.” Bendy looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Sammy immediately replied.

“But-”

“No buts.” Sammy gently cut him off. “You’re not responsible for Joey’s actions. Besides, like you said, it’s not like he created you. He simply gave you a physical form.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Bendy kicked at the ground a bit. Suddenly, though, a literal lightbulb appeared over the little demon’s head.

“Oh yeah!” Bendy lit up. “You probably knew Henry, right?” Sammy relaxed a bit now that the subject was no longer Joey. Even now, the thought of that man made him furious. Joey hadn’t been able to take his emotions from him, at the very least.

“I did know Henry, yes.”

“What was he like?” Bendy clambered into Sammy’s lap, tugging on Sammy’s suspenders like an excited child. Sammy had to shift a bit so that he could hold Bendy properly. He was surprised by how large the little demon actually was. Bendy was about the size of a toddler.

“He was a good man.” He said. “Always patient and kind towards others. And he loved you a great deal.”

“Then...Why did he leave?” Bendy’s voice was small. “Joey said that Henry didn’t care about me or Boris...And that was why he left.” He started playing with Sammy’s suspenders.

“Joey drove him away.” Sammy’s lip curled in distaste. It was an instinctual reaction more than anything else. He’d grown disillusioned with Joey’s talk of dreams, especially now that he knew it was just that. Talk. Nothing more. And now, learning that Joey had been poisoning the little demon’s mind, making him feel unwanted. Joey really did manipulate everyone around him.

“Drove him away how?” Bendy tilted his head to the side.

“He put a lot of pressure on Henry. Gave him a ridiculous workload.” Sammy explained. “It was all Henry giving and Joey taking. Eventually, he just couldn’t take it anymore. Especially since Joey kept stealing all the credit for the work.”

“So...Henry did care about me and Boris?” Bendy asked hopefully.

“He did.” Sammy’s expression softened and he reached up one hand to pat the space between Bendy’s horns. “Henry loved you both with all his heart. He would have taken you with him if he could.”

“But Joey wouldn’t let him.” Bendy finished.

“Exactly.”

Bendy fell silent, snuggling into Sammy and laying his head on Sammy’s chest. Sammy stiffened a bit at this sudden contact. He hadn’t held anyone in years. Least of all someone who was essentially a child. Awkwardly, Sammy raised his arms and gently patted Bendy’s back.

“Can I stay with you?” Bendy asked after a moment or two of silence.

“Why would you want to stay with me?” Sammy pulled back a bit. “My sanity isn’t exactly guaranteed. I might slip back into worshipping you.”

“I don’t want to go back to Joey and Alice doesn’t like me.” Bendy started to wring his hands. “But, um, I can leave if you want me to. I-I don’t want to bother you.” Sammy could see tears welling up in Bendy’s eyes as he flopped off of Sammy’s lap and began to slink away.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want you here,” Sammy said quickly, standing up. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You don’t like being referred to as a savior or a lord.”

“I just...I can’t save you.” Bendy kept his back to Sammy, kicking at the floorboards. “I can’t do the kinds of things that Joey can.”

“The things...Joey can?” Sammy asked curiously.

“He can do a lot of scary stuff.” The little demon was beginning to shake. “He did the bad stuff to Alice. But she thinks we’re the same.”

“So Joey is the Ink Demon.’ Sammy murmured, his eyes narrowing. Bendy nodded, turning back to look at him.

“Do you still want me around, even if I can’t save you?” He looked so small at that moment. Hope was hard to come by in the studio. Sammy tried to provide hope to all he could. He knew he couldn’t save his congregation himself, but he could at least provide them with something to live for.

“I do.” Sammy knelt in front of him. “Because even if you can’t save us, I know there’s something you can do.”

“Something...I can do?” Bendy echoed curiously.

“You can provide hope.” Sammy smiled and opened his arms for the little demon. For a moment or two, Bendy just stood there, staring at him. Then his face split in a grin and he threw himself into Sammy’s arms, starting to cry. Sammy closed his eyes, holding Bendy close. He had a feeling things would be better from now on.

Things weren’t perfect. Not by any means. But they were better. With Bendy there to ground him, Sammy’s bouts of madness were fewer and farther between. The Lost Ones and Searchers were delighted to have Bendy in their presence, his antics raising their spirits and keeping them from falling into despair. He even managed to rope a few of them into pranks against Alice. Things weren’t perfect...But they were better.

Sammy woke to Bendy sitting on his chest like a cat. The little demon’s eyes lit up upon seeing Sammy’s open. Bendy’s sleep schedule tended to vary far more than Sammy’s own did, so he was usually awake before Sammy was.

“Good morning, my Lord.” Sammy smiled softly. “What would you like to do today?”

“I wanna mess with Alice!” Bendy bounced up and down on Sammy’s chest. Had the prophet still possessed lungs, this might have hurt. Instead, Sammy just laughed.

“Of course.” He sat up, moving Bendy into his lap. “Why don’t you tell me your plan while I make some soup?”

“Okay!” Bendy hopped off to go sit on a stool and watch Sammy work. Sammy got out of bed, moving to find some soup. He still held out hope that someone would save him and the others. But he would have to find his salvation elsewhere. For now, though, he had his hope. And that was all he needed.

#bendy and the ink machine #batim au #sammy lawrence #bendy the dancing demon #fanfiction #tw: emotional abuse #tw: emotional trauma #because joey is a bad man who manipulates everyone

18 notes · View notes

transmxnfenris · 5 years

Text

My Discourse Thoughts

I know I speak out against antis a lot but I just wanted to specify I’m not an anti-anti either. I just think antis cause more harm than anti-antis but tbh this is my Middle Ground opinion. I don’t like either groups. I think this discourse is not as black and white as people make out. Before you start, I am saying this as an incest, rape, child porn, and abuse survivor. So. Yeah, my feelings aren’t about something I’m not aware of. It’ll be kinda focused on written stuff, because I’m a writer, but I try to be inclusive. I’m mostly writing this so I never have to say my opinion again and can just link it here.

Yes fiction can affect reality, of course it does. See the Jaws affect and discussions about representation of marginalised groups for evidence. So, artists do have to be careful and try to do better in terms of bigoted stereotypes and stuff like that. But. But. This is kind of like the “murder played violent video games and became a murderer” thing. Violent video games would only cause someone to become a murder if that desire is already in place (this is what the trauma control model says. - info on that from adopduction.) Abusive relationships only normalise abuse if they portray the abuse as normal. So like, 50 Shades of Grey - that portrays abuse as romantic and fun. That’s normalising abuse. Running with Scissors is a book that very much shows the abuse as clearly really bad. It doesn’t explicitly say it, but it assumes the reader knows that these abusive acts are horrible and wrong. Which is a fair assumption. I don’t think people should create things that suggests bad things (abuse, rape, etc) are fine and even normal, I don’t think that means we shouldn’t have art about these topics, we absolutely should. For one thing, it’s therapeutic for a lot of people to get the dark things out of there head and into the art their creating / consuming, for another - spreading awareness isn’t normalising. Books talking about things that really happen is showing you that people are capable of awful things. Their reaching out to survivors and validating them, and sometimes their helping everyone see the signs. Books like Haunted show that anyone can be an abuser, and that’s important. If we think of the perpetrators as monsters, then it makes it difficult to believe someone we know is an abuser or rapist - that’s how we get the “but he seems like such a nice guy!” Defence.

So in terms of subjects discussing dark topics - I think people should absolutely be able to. I think people should stick to things they have experience with (eg Chuck Palahniuk got the idea to write fight club because he got beaten up on a camping trip by homophobes and when he went to work the next day people said nothing even though he was visible beaten up) but I’m not gonna police people - so long as they do their research and are being respectful it’s fine (besides, saying only survivors can do it says people have to open up about their trauma even if their not ready and that’s not cool.) I think as long as people aren’t normalising these topics it’s fine but by normalise I mean 50 Shades of Grey style stuff. Writing about them isn’t inherently normalising them. A general rule I use to see if someone’s normalising something is is it tagged or classified as abuse? Or does it explicitly say abuse? If so, it’s not. 50 Shades of Grey doesn’t ever say it deals with non-consensual BDSM, stalking, and abuse because those are awful things as everyone knows. So, if an Ao3 fic is tagged ‘abuse’, ‘pedophilia’, or ‘rape’... it’s probably not normalising it. It’s classifying it as a bad thing. I think a fic is normalising pedophilia when it’s got a seventeen year old with a thirty year old and saying it’s fine because it’s legal in the U.K. thus they don’t tag it. Like, that’s a creepy age gap your normalising. It may not technically be pedophilia, but your pulling a Call Me By Your Name, it’s kinda normalising grown adults grooming kids. However, if a ship is about the same thing but the adult is the villain, the creep, the ‘everything is done to show their a bad guy’... That’s not normalising anything. I write about incest, because I’m an incest survivor, so I have some incest ships - none are healthy. I could go on, but seriously. So long as they’re not showing how incestuous relationships are healthy and fine, who cares?

In terms of ships... Oh boy, this is a tough one. I live by Don’t Like Don’t Read and Live and Let Ship. I think shipping adult characters regardless of whether people think it’s bad or abusive is fine. It doesn’t mean I like all ships. For example, I do not like the ship Reylo, but I have friends who ship it. I have it on my blacklist. I don’t care that they ship it. It doesn’t remotely affect me. I only really see it when people are complaining about it. I think in this case it’s also important to note shipping and fanfiction aren’t mainstream, your fanfic on Ao3 won’t have much of an effect to any mainstream audience. If you identify as a woman and love m/m fics? I don’t care. I’ve seen amazing fics and art by women of m/m ships. Hell, the community is what helped me realise I’m an mlm trans man. Do I get a bit skeeved when homophobia and fetishisation happens? And transphobia and intersexism? And racism? And ableism? And bigotry in general? Yeah. But why don’t we just, approach them in a civil manner because it may be by accident. A lot of people like that apologise then improve if you’re nice about it. Do I like women getting off on mlm? Erm, I don’t care. So long as their not homophobic and weird about it. Final note: shipping doesn’t always mean “I love, approve of, and want this ship to be canon.”

That being said... NSFW art between kids if you’re an adult is weird. I do actually have ships with under 18 characters, and I don’t care if anyone else does. Ships aren’t inherently sexual. But I’ve never written porn or anything sexual for them. Because the thought makes me feel sick. If you’re a 15 year old writing about two 15 year olds that’s totally different and of course you will, but I would strongly suggest fans like that be careful because weirdos might get ahold of it. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with people creating art with underage characters in these situations if they are in them, but be careful. I’m going to specify at this point I mean smut and porn. Stuff written for actual sexual purposes. Not all art involving sex is like this, I’m ace as hell, and I’ve... Never really written sex for that purpose. I explore power dynamics because it’s interesting, and dark topics because it’s therapeutic. I don’t ever write actual sexual (abusive or otherwise) scenes with anyone underage because it skeeves me. I just imply it. So I think underage ships are a grey area... but porn involving kids and teens is really weird. And hand drawn porn of kids is illegal in the U.K. even if it isn’t in the US so don’t rely on that if you do draw it. I’m gonna specify though, I mean kids who are like, actually under age definitely children, not ageless figures in an anime who’s age you only know if you research the background bit they all seem like adults. This isn’t about porn with the guys from Voltron, it’s about porn with like, Dipper and Mabel. Another shipping trend that skeeves me is real life people shipping. It just crosses a consent line for me, I particularly started to dislike it when my abusive ex’s friend wrote a fanfic of my ex-girlfriend with another person. It fucking sucked. Now, if someone explicitly says “write about me in weird sexy ways if you want” fine, but like... Otherwise it’s fucking creepy.

To expand on that, I really don’t think “do what you want” is a good rule. For example, erasing representation is a shitty thing to do. Dorian Pavus of Dragon Age fame, has an entire backstory dedicated to being a magical conversion therapy survivor... so let’s not make a “bi Dorian Mod”. I don’t like that. And as I said, I don’t like child nsfw stuff, and lolicon, and babyfurs, and whatever else. It’s creepy. Basically my opinion is “do what you want, just don’t be bigoted or a fucking creep.” And... maybe don’t invest your time into being angry about it. It’s not healthy. If you see something bigoted or creepy, report it, block the person, and move on. If you see something you personally don’t like, but isn’t bigoted and isn’t harming anyone (like, whether you think Reylo or Kylux are abusive or not... it’s not mainstream, it’s not harming anyone really) maybe you should just. Leave it alone. Block the tag, and move on. This whole, deciding what harmless ships are bad and good and causing witch hunts is fucking conservative, cultist bullshit.

Tl;dr:

Don’t like, don’t read and ship and let ship are good rules. Within reason.

Let people create art and write about whatever they want. You don’t know their life, you don’t know who benefits from it, and art deserves freedom. Within reason.

But. We shouldn’t let bigotry and weird creepy stuff get a free pass though. But sometimes people don’t mean to be bigoted so try being nice and explaining stuff before abusing.

But also... witch hunts are like, bad?

#long post #my discourse opinion #fandom discourse

1 note · View note

farishhellsworth03 · 3 years

Text

Part 1(Drawings from Another World)

Leo: Uhh...another boring day in highschool.... So far I'm just repeating the same thing everyday, I just hope that something big happens just to cheer up my life... Oh yeah, I need to get the shroom in my locker, Darren paid me a lot just to get this... Where is it, eh?

Unknown Voice:

"Here lies a world full of imagination, the land that once we promised to you"

Leo: Who said that!? Wait, I think I heard the voice from my old drawing book in the locker, let me check it out-

*Leo got suck into the drawing book*

Leo: Ohhhhh Shiiiiittt!!!!

*Leo fall and arrived at weird place, where he seen a lot of creature just like in drawing book that been drawn by 3-4 years old, some with cartoon style, and some with anime style drawing

Leo: What is this? Am I got Isekai'd? Some of them looks like a drawing from little kids, some from professionals artist...

Stickman: Aight that must be the kid, welcome kiddo, to the Arts World

Leo: Wow, finally something interesting happens in my life, but I think I saw you before.

Jura: Yes you're right. My name, is Jura. I've once called you from the same drawing book to invited you to come here, but at that time, you just 5 years old, and I've even promised someday I will called you again, anddd,

if you remember , there are two more drawings with me when I called you, Lookie, show yourself.

*Lookie cancel the invisible mode, appeared in front of Leo*

Lookie: Urm, hi, my name is Lookie, I'm just a basic ghost drawing, nice to meet you!

Leo: Oh hi! You have a girl voice! You seem a nice ghost to befriended with! So, where is the other one?

Jura: Right under your feet. His name is Pike.

Leo: Oh god! Sorry for stepping on you!

Pike: U donkey! Next time u ever do that again, I'm gonna beat your mother to death and throw u into pile of bear shit! Alright?

Leo: ....Okay...

Troll drawing: urmm, oii diii stickman, me, where go to? Me, in here, lost...

Jura: Ouh just go the green portal , it's the Land of Trolls, hope you have a nice time there.

Troll drawing: Auow, me, very, very, very thanks you, u good stickman, me, happy so much, bye bye

Leo: Alright, I've got so many questions right now

Jura: And I will answer it, let's go somewhere better to talk, okay? Lookie, take us to Groda's Bar

*location: Groda's Bar*

Jura: Oh Come on, Leo! Just drink that damn beer! There's no bullshit age drinking restrictions here!

Pike: I'mma be honest with yer, kid... Why you have a face of child molester plus a successful rapist?

Lookie: Hey, don't talk to Leo like that! That's rude!

Leo: Thanks, Lookie, you're very nice to me! But I really want to confirmed something, are you really a girl ghost?

Lookie: Yea, and my existence is based by my creator , or you call, artist...

Jura: Look around you Leo, every creature, drawings here, is exist by the hand of their artist, they live according to the story created by the artist, and they will follow their storyline forever, unless, you become the forgotten drawings, and after that, you will gain freedom, you have your own story, for example , me, Pike and Lookie.

Leo: Wait, what's the meaning of Forgotten Drawings?

Pike: Damn , this boy fuckin stupid, why u so stupid? Is every 17 years old are this stupid? You left your brain at another dimension?

Lookie: Pike! Stop it!

Pike: Alright, alright! Sheesh!

Jura: OK, ignore Pike and here's the answer, the forgotten drawings is a drawing by your artist that forgots that u exist, so in other means, the artist completely forget you and your storyline, the quickest drawing that gets their freedom is usually a character from 4 stripped comics, because their story just ends there, and there's also 2 more ways to get freedom from the artist storyline, either your original drawings get erased by people, or, you can get out from this world and ask the artist itself to give u freedom to roam the arts world, I'm telling you, that last method never ended well, because u know, they obviously gonna freak out, and also Leo, I'm giving you this pencil.

Leo: Wow ,it's glowing!

Jura: Yup, it's a magic pencil, let me write something at your hand using this pencil...

*pencil dissapearing*

Jura : Now the pencil ability runs in your blood, you can draw anything and make it exist, That pencil will give you ability to create anything in this world by drawing method, I only give that pencil to people who I trust the most to protect this world, don't break my trust eh?

Leo: Alright, I will not break your trust!

Jura: Your words better match your actions...

Jura: Alright, so, introduction done, let's go to Moonlight Sonata Island, I want to sleep there today.

Leo: Why we need to go there?

Jura: First, I don't sleep about 3 days now. And second, there are some part of this world don't have night , so we need to go there to sleep, so lesssgo

*Location: Moonlight Sonata Island *

Leo: Wow, I've seen the starry night at my world, but this is beautiful...

Jura: You've gotta appreciate the one who designed this island. Some info I got about this island from reading books is,there is an old man at your world, draws this island when he lost his daughter and wife, drowning in the sea, I must said that old man have gone through so much, he draws this island in hope that his daughter and wife rest here after they gone.

Jura: So, I go to your world with Lookie and brought him here, to spent his entire life here, the first time he arrived here, he can't stop crying , but after a few days, he's already doing fine, Lookie give him a tour around this island and he's very happy live here, but Sadly he passed away 1 year ago,

of old age, becoming old is not fun...

If you go to the middle of this island, you will find his gravestone ,I'm using a crystal as his gravestone .

Jura: Alright, I think that's enough storytelling, tommorow we visit his grave...

Pike: You very excited each time you tell a story about this island, it's not that sad!

Jura: Oh please, you cry like a little bitch when the old man tell his story!

Pike: I'm just go along with him, try to comfort him with my, erm, argh - fuck off...

Jura: Pfft. Whatever u say, Pike... And goodnight everyone, goodnight... DiCaprio...

#adventure #quotes

#art #adventure #fantasy #voyage #romance #love quotes #artfight #gaming #anime figure

0 notes

ddaddsprompts · 7 years

Note

How would you think the dads would react if dadsona unconsciously seduces them?

Imagine how the dads would react to dadsona (in public or not or both) seducing them unconsciously?

This prompt obviously deals with NSFW-ish themes, but no actual sex takes place. Now that that’s out of the way, enjoy!

🥃 “Stop whining, it’s only asmall cut.” You glare at him, but Robert doesn’t see your expression. He’scompletely focused on the piece of wood in his hands, which, in the last houror so, has begun looking less like a random blob and more like a four-leggedanimal. It would take some time longer for Robert to finish whatever he isworking on, but you’re in no hurry. You very much enjoy spending time with himup the cliff, where you can overlook all of Maple Bay and relish in thecomfortable silence between you two. Ever since you started, your whittling hadbecome better, but you were still far less skilled than Robert and a lot moreaccident-prone. After checking your finger is splinter-free, you stick it into yourmouth and suck on it. The cut isn’t even deep enough to have drawn blood, butit still hurts and the childish gesture makes it a little bit better. Also, you’rea drama queen, so you exaggerate your injury shamelessly. With your free hand,you play with the stick you’ve been working on ever since you drove up here. It’snice and thick and you’re half-tempted to form it into a dick, but you probablylack the skill even for that. A large, calloused hand suddenly wraps itselfaround your wrist. Robert pulls you close to him, right into his lap, then tugsyour finger out of your mouth. “Little tease,” he growls. The next moment, hepresses his lips on yours and grinds against you.

🍸 You’re no expert on religion and churchadministration, but you’re pretty sure having a bake sale every other week isnot normal. Not that you mind helping Joseph out, but it confuses you a little,just how often he asks whether you want to help him bake cookies, brownies orcakes. You suspect he just uses it as an excuse to see you, but you neverconfront him with your suspicions. Why question your free-cookies-and-kissesluck? You’re over at his house, again, and this time, you’re making browniesagain, following the instructions on the box for once. Doesn’t mean the kitchenisn’t still a mess, though. “I think there’s more chocolate sauce on my facethan on the brownies.” Joseph looks up from where he is pouring the batter intothe moulds and chuckles. There’s flour all over his apron and also some in hishair, which you think he hasn’t noticed yet. “You’ve got some right here.” Hetaps his chin and you reach up to your own, wiping the chocolate off with yourfinger. Which you promptly lap on, licking off the sauce without any secondthoughts. Joseph makes a choked-off noise at the back of his throat, causingyou to look up in surprise. His face is beet red and his eyes nearly black withhis pupils blown in… You blush and wipe your hand off your apron. Suddenly, yourback is pressed back against the counter and Joseph leans in to kiss youhungrily.

☕ The Coffee Spoon closed half an hour ago and it’s just the two ofyou, since Pablo didn’t work today and you decided to help Mat clean up. You’renearly done – you wiped all the tables, put up the chairs, emptied the displaycase without eating all of the remaining cupcakes all at once and the ingredientsare back in the cabinets. Mat just needs to finish counting the money and thetableware, then you’re good to go. For entertainment, he put on music over thespeaker. While you do not recognise the band that’s currently playing, the songis catchy and before you know it, you find yourself moving along to the beat, startingout small but getting larger as the song picked up speed. At some point, youmove your arms along, too, starting to dance, hips swaying from side to side,hands above your head. You’re so lost in the rhythm and the singer’s voice, youdon’t notice Mat return from the back. He leans against the wall with a smileon his face, just watching you dance carelessly and free until the next songstarts playing. You’re in the zone, so to say, so you just continue dancing. Atthe feeling of hands on your hips, you still, but Mat moving along to the musicbehind you encourages you to continue. Eventually, you turn around and wrapyour arms around his neck, pressing close to him. Neither of you cares much fordancing when he kisses you and slips his hands under your shirt.

🌹 Lucien runs off to greet a friend, leaving youand Damien alone in front of the ice cream parlour in the mall. In an attemptto help you with your empty nest syndrome, Damien had invited you along totheir trip and you’d readily agreed, since spending time with your boyfriendand his son was a lot better than moping in Amanda’s empty room. “Would youcare for some ice cream, dear?” You nod eagerly, making Damien chuckle. Heorders some for both of you and once you hold your three scoops of frozengreatness, you sit down on a bench waiting for Lucien to return. “Did they haveice cream in the Victorian age already?” Damien’s eyes light up, as they alwaysdo whenever someone asks him about his favourite topic. “They did, yes. Ofcourse, they didn’t have machines like we do, now, and the production was verytime-consuming.” Listening to him, you start to eat, happily lapping at yourice cream. Your free hand comes to rest on his thigh and without noticing it,you begin drawing little patterns into the fabric of his trousers. ��TheVictorians enjoyed a wide range of flavours and were more imaginative withtheir ingredients than we are…” Damien falters, his eyes darting between yourtongue to the hand on your thigh. He clears his throat, blushing. “F-forexample cucumber ice cream. They… t-they would… erm… collect i-ice from—Y/N,could you please…” He gestures and the colour of his face comes to match thatof his ice cream. You pause. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry.” Damien shakes his headand covers your hand with his own. “I won’t object to it at home, dear, justnot here…”

🎣 You smile triumphantly as the operator hands you your price – an enormous lollipop.Next to you, Brian rolls his eyes and nudges your side hard enough to make youstumble, but not to actually make you fall. “That’s three against one,” yousmugly say before popping the lollipop into your mouth. “We only just started.”You just grin and take his hand to lead him to the next game. For the anniversaryof the day you admitted your feelings to each other, you two decided to visitthe carnival. Though you no longer believe he’s trying to one-up you everychance he gets, you two still compete against each other, this time a breakfastin bed being the reward for whoever got the most wins after all of the games.Amanda is going to love the stuffed panda you won for her. Hollowing out yourcheeks, you suck on the lollipop, trying to figure out what flavour it is. Theinitial taste was cherry, but now it tastes of lemon and you’re confused. Youhum, popping it out of your mouth for a moment to speak. “Which one’s next?”You lick the lollipop to get rid of the fine line of spit that connects it toyour lips and suck it back into your mouth. When Brian doesn’t reply after afew moments, you turn your head, about to ask him what’s wrong. He stops youfrom taking out the lollipop again, face red. “C-could you… stop doing that?” Youcock your head, confused, until you suddenly realise what you’ve been doing.You blush and nod. Brian lets out a sigh of relief, then leans in to whisperinto your ear. “Later, Y/N.”

👟 “I’m dying.” Craig throws an amused look over his shoulder at you, butdoesn’t slow down. You groan. “Bro, I’m literally dying.”“For a dying person you sure complain a lot, bro.” If you didn’t need it onceyou reach the top of the hill, you would have thrown your water bottle at him,but there’s no way you’d waste the water in temperatures like these.Temperatures that would make any sane person stay inside where there was airconditioning and where the sun didn’t shine on you relentlessly. The marinaraincident should have shown you Craig was anything but sane, but still, youagreed to go jogging with him today. “See, you survived.” You would argue youdidn’t, but you’re too busy trying to catch your breath. Craig’s only sweatinga little, unlike you, whose shirt sticks uncomfortably to your back. Youunscrew your bottle and drink half the water in one go, but then decide youreally need to cool down, so you pour the rest over your head, sighing inrelief. Your shirt might be soaked and, since it was a bright fabric,see-through now, but you’d take that over being too hot anytime. The strongfeeling of being watched makes you look up and you meet Craig’s eyes. He’sstaring at you, mouth hanging open a little. When he notices you seeing it, he looksaway. “You okay, bro?” He rubs the back of his head, blushing. “Yeah, justenjoying the view.” You turn around to see what is behind you, but it’s nothingbut trees, he can’t mean that. His pointed look down at your torso, however, isall you need to realise what he means. You throw the empty water bottle at himand laugh.

📖 With a groan you throw your legs over the sideof the bed and get up. One of the biggest downsides to dating a teacher, youdiscovered early on, is the alarm going off far earlier than you’re used to.Hugo’s already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast; the smell is heavenly andoffers a very convincing argument as to why you should go and join Hugodownstairs. You blindly take the first shirt you find on the floor and getdressed. It’s only when you’re passing the mirror that you notice it’s one ofHugo’s, but you figure he won’t care and leave it on. “Morning,” you greet himwith a yawn and kiss the back of his neck in passing. The oven is on and sincethe enticing smells come from it, you bend down to take a look inside. It lookslike a breakfast pie and its cheesy glory nearly draws a groan out from insideof you. A hand brushes over your behind. You straighten up and turn around tofind Hugo smirk at you with dark eyes. “You’re wearing one of my shirts.”“Well, duh.” You snicker at his unimpressed expression. Hugo wraps an armaround your waist and pulls you against his chest. “With the exception of yourunderwear, you’re only wearing one ofmy shirts. And then you bend over like that…” Your lips form a surprised ‘oh’and you blush lightly. “Sorry?” Hugo chuckles and steals a quick kiss. Youfigure nothing more will happen since he’ll have to leave soon, but hesurprises you by lifting you into his arms. He carries you towards the nearestroom with a lock at its door and grins. “We’ll make it quick.”

#dream daddy: a dad dating simulator #dream daddy #dream daddy a dad dating simulator #ddadds #ddadds imagine #Anonymous

261 notes · View notes

tea-books-rain · 6 years

Text

Book Review: A Beautiful Composition of Broken by R.H. Sin

Warning: I hated this book. I go after it really hard Inserting a read-more just for length.

I’m going to start this review with an excerpt. Two excerpts, actually. I couldn't decide which was more... erm... appropriate. You'll see.

From page 77:

The Tights You Wear.

wrapped around both thighs black hues and heather grays beginning at the waist ending just at the ankles forcing me to pay homage to your curves

From page 299:

6:16p.m.:

utilizing my tongue as a stress reliever pressing pressure points creating a climax provoking pleasure with ease opening you right up because my tongue is the key

-- This was, without a doubt, the worst collection of poetry I have ever beheld in my entire life. I feel like I could exfoliate with steel wool in the shower and I still wouldn't be rid of the absolute creepiness I've been exposed to within these pages. It is vile. It is demeaning. It is derogatory. It is falsely feminizing, toxicly masculine, and the attention-mongering is real. I have a lot to say about it.

A single moment of disclosure, I didn't actually finish this book. It's 461 pages long. I threw up the white flag of surrender on page 300. I couldn't take another page. I'll explain more in a bit.

Before I get into my full lambasting, however, I do want to say something nice about this book. I genuinely appreciate seeing a male poet so ready to embrace the idea of writing about love and about how it's OK to want love and to want a relationship, instead of just an OKCupid hookup or whatever. That was a nice, refreshing sentiment. If you aren't super-rooted in third-wave feminism (which I admittedly am, and which we'll also get into), you'll probably think this book is amazing. It offers just enough love, enough longing for respect, etc, to be good.

Another positive I want to say about this book is that some of the poems are legitimately good. There are plenty of redeemable poems that have nothing wrong, weird, or unhealthy in them. I'd say 25% of them are fantastic, normal, solid poems with good ideas and thoughts. I was drawing little hearts next to them. In fact, this book is so long enough that if they were collected up and all of the crappy, chauvinistic, toxic poems were removed, he still would have been able to publish a book, it'd just be more like a regularly sized poetry book instead of this insane tome.

That said, the good poems in this book are surrounded by so many poems that are - for lack of better phrasing - complete and utter bullshit, I couldn't take the good poems seriously. For example, there was a very nice poem about how R.H. Sin likes to get to know a girl's mind before he touches her body. This is well and good. It's a valid sentiment. However, it comes in at about page 250. The leggings poem listed above is on page 77. If what you're wearing to walk down the street means he can whistle at you, then what really comes first? What does he really care about?

So for me, the positive sides weren't enough to redeem this collection. I don't even know where to start with my issues regarding this work. I think I'm going to list them out and then elaborate one by one, just so I personally don't get lost ranting. I highly disliked how Sin paraded around like he was one of the feminists but he clearly isn't, I didn't like the whiplash from one poem to the next, the sheer amount of contradictions within the messages he's trying to bring forward, the toxic masculinity so clearly made evident, and the way he views love in general.

I think I'm going to tackle the love issue first, actually. This might have been what bothered me the most. R.H. Sin's idea of how love works, according to this book, is that it only has to do with being earned. If you just work hard enough, if you throw enough flowers at a pretty-lookin girl, if you just say the right words and put in the elbow grease, everything will be dandy. Then, when that's not how love works, he gets incredibly frustrated and blames it on the girl who left him. He sulks like a 5 year old who had a toy taken away, bemoaning that he loved her so hard and she didn't care about him at all and she never deserved him and blahblahblah. It eventually devolves into saying "well I don't care about anyone" (which we'll get into under the toxic masculinity section), before the entire process repeats itself again and again and again. About every 10-15 pages, it repeats. By page 300, he still hadn't learned what was going wrong here.

And I'm not saying that love doesn't require work, ok? It does. Being in a relationship means making decisions for 2, taking another person into account, worrying about them, checking in with them, etc. But being in love is also something relatively mundane. It's thinking someone is cute. It's having similar interests, a general respect for them, a general attraction. Within the poems presented here, I highly doubt R.H. Sin understands that. He genuinely seems confused that a woman might arbitrarily not be into him simply because she's not into him. He writes about women is like they're just prizes to be won over.

I think this ties into the toxic masculinity theme, so I'm going to dive into that next. This part isn't so obvious. R.H. Sin is definitely pretending like he's third-wave. He says all the magic words: he uses "women" and "warrior" in the same sentence multiple times, he has a whole poem using the word independence, he says women are strong, he even has a poem that says, "I hate this idea of a woman being silent."

But don't be fooled by the catch-phrases, kiddos! He's faking. If you read the excerpt at the beginning of this review, by page 77 you're already gonna know he clearly thinks that the decision to wear leggings is an open invitation for him to check you out on the sidewalk. If you choose not to like him, then you're just not good enough for him anyway and you never deserved his love. By the 200s, he's going to admit flat-out he knows women are silent because they're done with your shit--but he already said he hates it when women were quiet.

As if that's not contradictory enough, he starts gaslighting with his poems. He says he doesn't like silent women, but then he writes a poem "you don't have to explain why you left to the person who made you leave." He says you're allowed to leave anyone, but if you leave him, then you never meant anything. It's nonsense. It's infantile.

And that brings me to my main point of the toxic masculinity: R.H. Sin didn't admit a single fault about himself in all of the 300 pages I slogged through. Every. Single. Time. something went wrong, the finger was pointed at someone else. It was always that someone didn't love him enough, that they didn't understand him, that they wanted to leave, that they decided to choose Mr. Wrong over him, etc. Even people who had criticized his poetry meant nothing to him and were just jealous. He was completely and utterly incapable of sitting back, critically thinking through a situation, and admitting that he had any sort of flaw in his behavior or his logic.

As another example, there's a poem on page 160 that says, "I've come to the realization that loving a woman means making an effort to make her smile at all times." This is a terrible, terrible idea. Love is so much more than smiles. Trying to make someone happy 24/7 is the perfect basis for a mentally and emotionally abusive relationship. Does he get this? No. By page 219 he's saying "trying and trying is something that i'll no longer do. loving you until i realize that it'll change nothing. these things take time and i'm patient." No, you literally just don't understand what love is and you're glamorizing an unhealthy relationship dynamic, then having the audacity to turn around and behave like this act of self-sacrifice somehow earns you brownie points. It doesn't.

Anyway, I think that covers all of my major points. As a final note, I do have to say I thoroughly enjoyed ripping this book to pieces. I'm a firm believer in annotations and dog ears. This book looks more loved than my copy of Milk and Honey, which I've read... six times, I believe? Which is not bad considering I literally didn't even finish this book. My Snapchat story is littered with sassy annotations I added to the pages. My love interest, who doesn't even believe in annotations, was begging me to add further commentary and thoroughly joining in on the rampage against the godawful poetry and the godawful ideas R.H. Sin presents in this book. It was decidedly much more fun that if I'd actually spent the day reading a poetry book I enjoyed. In fact, if you want to get some thorough stress-relief by way of ranting about bad ideas of love, I'd solidly recommend this book. It's great for that.

Other than that, yeah, it's a really crappy book. My sincere apologies for whoever gets my copy after I get rid of it, both because the book sucks and my annotations surely do not improve on the theme. Yeah.

#book review #rhsin #a beautiful composition of broken #rh sin #poetry #booklr #bookblr

1 note · View note