#because i am once again thinking about them
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Paper Flowers (b.b. x fem!reader)
pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
word count: 2k
warnings: classism, anxious/slightly insecure reader, use of "young lady" and feminine descriptors
a/n: the second part of Language of Flowers is here! Thank you so much for all the love on the first part and I hope you enjoy the second one just as much! I set it up to have more parts in the future so if anyone is interested in that, let me know!!
The eyes of the ton were as insufferable as ever. One would have thought that a lady in simpler attire would attract less attention than those in large adornments or hair pieces, but today appeared the opposite indeed. Sure, when you were personally delivering large floral orders to people’s estates, you had eyes on you, but you could ignore them then. Then, you knew you would not be in their line of vision for long and you could rest assured with the guarantee that no one would remember past that moment. Now, however, now you were out walking in your simple attire with a lord. A lord of one of the most illustrious families no less. You had tried to convince Benedict to take the less occupied back roads, but he insisted that his desired destination would be faster reached should you take the main road. Not wanting to make a scene in public, you were left to be made a spectacle.
The looks you were receiving were not lost on Benedict, but he chose to keep his head up high, nodding and smiling when someone was about to pull an ugly face. Perhaps the ton were weary as to why someone of his status was walking with a working class young lady, but frankly, he was too happy that he had gotten you on this walk in the first place to even consider how wild it might appear on the surface. He nearly reached out to grab your hand when he saw the Cowpers were approaching from the modiste, but realised just in time how much worse the physical affection might be and refrained, choosing to wipe some imaginary dust off of his trousers instead.
“Something else will catch their attention by morning, do not fret,” he whispered with his head tilted in your direction but looking over your head rather than at you in an effort to look less obvious.
You had been so caught up in the whirlwind of emotions that were entrapped in him appearing at the shop and your parents sending you away that you had not had the time to think about presentation at all. You had heard girls lamenting to each other about their lacklustre presentations to the Queen and you could imagine that it felt something similar to this. All eyes on you, no one truly seeing you, yet everyone so quick to make a passing judgement.
“Had I cared about the opinions of others, I would not have asked for your time. But I am here because I care not about them, but about you. Keep your head high, we are almost there,” Benedict whispered once again. While his words were nice, they did little to soothe your anxiety. Nonetheless, you raised your chin up higher, realising you had been staring at the cobblestone more than what was in front of you. You soon found yourself quickly approaching a luscious green field that left you wondering how Benedict had ever found it. It was much closer to the shops than his estate, and with the ton spending most of their months in the country, you questioned how his discovery of this place might have come about. “We have arrived,” Benedict commented with a small smile on his face, waving his arm out to the side in demonstration.
“However did you find this place?” You questioned.
“Being a child in a clan of eight means a lot of time to make daring escapes during family shopping trips,” he smiles, mischievous as you ever saw. The smile gives the impression that he looked back on those memories fondly, as you did with memories of you and your sisters. Maybe you had never had big family shopping trips into town, but the moral of the story lies in the bonds strengthened with those you were with. You started to believe you might have more in common than you previously imagined.
“I figured we could sit and admire the view. Talk for a little, if it suits you,” Benedict looked over at you, gesturing to a place clear of any wandering eyes where you could lean against the sturdy tree trunk and watch the breeze create waves over the pond.
“It suits me very well,” you nodded, a small smile etching its way onto your face as he sat down first, offering his hand as to assist you in doing the same.
“I’d say the way the sun hits suits you very nicely as well,” he complimented, “you’re practically glowing”.
“A fan of flattery are we Mr. Bridgerton?” you asked, teasingly but trying not to show it.
“Only when I feel it necessary”.
Though you were promised conversation, Benedict did not want to force it, so the two of you sat in silence, taking in the sights and sounds of this hidden paradise. The silence was not uncomfortable, mind you, but rather a space in which the two of you could gather all of your thoughts. The grass waved to and fro in the light breeze, catching glimmers of sunlight in every direction. It looked as though someone had sprinkled fairy dust and every sparkle was destined to catch your eye. The tree you were leaning on had a small hole in the trunk, and you quickly caught two squirrels dashing in and out of it, dancing on the tree branches above you.
“This place is-”
“I wanted to ask-” you realised you had started speaking at the same time. You nodded at Benedict, silently urging him to continue first.
“I wanted to ask why you were so adamant about disliking me upon our first visit”.
You paused. You knew this question was going to appear sooner or later and yet you did not have a precise answer. Not one that felt worthy enough of your anger anyway. It was not unlike you to get an idea stuck in your head and run with it, so unchanging that you had to apologise many a time to family members for such unwavering anger. It always felt silly a few days later, as it did now, to have held onto an unsupported emotion for so long, but you liked admitting your faults just as much as you liked giving Benedict the time of day when you first met. Surely your idea was not so drastic this time, as you had met many men of the ton and of the working class who held women in low regard, instantly annoying you, but you also knew that this time you were angered more because of his brother than because of him. You had just happened to meet him first.
You decided it would be easier to just tell Benedict as such, and he sat there quietly during your entire speech. He did not interrupt, did not interject, did not even look away while you were explaining. It made you feel even sillier that he was listening so attentively to a situation you grew more and more embarrassed about. Ending your spiel, you placed your head in your hands, leaning your elbows against your knees as to become as small as possible. Benedict was quick to remedy this, gently grabbing your wrist and pulling your arm away from your face. He looked at you with a goofy smile before reaching for an inner pocket in his jacket.
“So your problem lies not with me, but with my brother?”
“I do not believe I actually have a problem with any of you. Not a reasonable one anyway; I was merely already agitated and the situation you laid before me sounded so similar to ones I had heard before that I clumped you all together. This is not to dismiss the derogatory nature that men in the ton and of the working class have I just-”
“I believe I understand,” Benedict cut you off, but only so you would not have to repeat your feelings in order to feel that you had explained them properly. “Now that we are at least a little on the same page, I did not want you to think that I had left you out of my gifting endeavours entirely,” he pulled something out of his inner pocket and you immediately noticed a delicate pale pink ribbon tying little cards together. “I couldn’t entirely fight the urge to gift flowers, even though you work with them constantly, so I figured some longer lasting ones might be nicer”. He handed you the stack of cards and you gingerly unwrapped the bow from the front in order to get a better look. Now it was Benedict’s turn to become embarrassed, as he feared you may not like or appreciate them. You came from a family of florists, of course it was a low blow to gift you something related to your trade. This was a terrible idea and he should have never-
“These are…beautiful,” you sighed, shifting through the cards with soft eyes. He had painted multiple flowers with their meanings listed under them in the fashion of miniatures. They were incredibly detailed and gorgeous that you could not imagine the amount of effort it took not only for him to create each flower but find their meaning as well. “You are an artist, I take it”.
“I…dabble”.
“Do not be modest Mr. Bridgerton. If this is dabbling I would love to see what your proper art looks like,” you smiled up at him and felt all worry about his gift choices melt away. You liked them and that is all that mattered.
“My mother is quite well versed in the language of flowers, so I figured I would use what talent I have for you”.
“My little sister, Abigail, keeps our flower book on her shelf so it is quite nice that now I can have one of my own. No matter how versed one might be, there is always the fear that one might forget, so these will prove quite useful I think.”
Everything was going perfectly in Benedict’s mind. You liked his gift, you enjoyed the space you were in, you were smiling. You carefully tied the cards back together with the pale ribbon, turning them over and over again in your hand as if you couldn’t believe someone had taken the time to gift you such a thing. In truth you couldn’t; your family were certainly not the wealthiest in England, so gifts were small or hard to come by. They only really happened during holidays and birthdays, but half the time you ended up sharing with your sisters. Not that you were complaining, you loved your sisters dearly and were grateful for anything you received, but being able to have something to call your own was magical.
A quick glance at Benedict’s pocket watch caused the whole scene to come crashing down, however, as he jumped up and informed you that he was late for a family event. You urged him to go, thanking him for the gift and the time, assuming this would be the end of your time together indefinitely. Benedict seemed to have other ideas.
“There is a party. Two nights from now and I would love if you would come with me”.
“Should you not be worried about bringing me?”
“Whatever for?” Your question seemed lost on him.
“Bringing someone of a lower status to a ton party would surely cause scandal, would it not?”
“No, see, this is a party where everyone is invited. All types of people mingling together for an evening, doing whatever the night calls them to do. It is truly wonderful and it would be even more wonderful if you would attend. It would be after shop hours, so you would not have to worry about leaving your family to fend for themselves,” he teased and you laughed, “and I could come pick you up, make sure you arrive safely and all”.
“If you are sure,” to which Benedict nodded enthusiastically, “then I suppose I shall”.
His smile grew wide as he lightly grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it before starting the walk in the opposite direction back towards Mayfair. You were still wary of what had taken place, and the promise you just made, but you supposed if one of you was certain enough about it that it would be fine. Or at least you hoped.
people who asked to be tagged: @easybrainrot34, @imgondeletedis, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog
#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton#eloise bridgerton#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x you#benedict bridgerton fanfiction
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bad idea
short lil summary: harry styles is back from uni and he looks better than you remember. problem is, he's your ex's brother.
warnings: smut, fingering, oral sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms 18+ ONLY!
word count: 7k+
a/n: it's almost 4:30 am and i just finished this lol. no need to wait, right? hope you enjoy!
Twelve years. Twelve years you’d been in love with David Styles. Ever since that day in the middle of your sophomore year of high school when he’d shown up as a new student in your Geometry class. Immediately, you’d recognized how cute he was - much cuter than any boys you’d known. And when he’d sat down across from you, and Mrs. Jacobs had asked him a question, to which he’d replied in a British accent, you were a goner.
But your love then had only been the unrequited kind. He was nice enough. He was never mean to you or talked down to you. In fact, you could even say you were friends, albeit the “at-school” kind, not the kind who hung out outside of school.
And you had been fine with that, for the rest of high school. He’d had girlfriends, most of them much prettier than you considered yourself to be. David was outgoing, popular. So you’d just resolved to being happy with whatever it was you were.
That is, until last year when fate took a twist, and you’d somehow become more than friends. You’d run into David at a mutual friend’s party and hit it off. You could say it was as if you’d picked up where you���d left off in high school, but that would be a lie. You hadn’t seen David since graduation, and you’d doubted you had even been on his mind. But he’d been on yours. You hadn’t stopped thinking about him.
The breakup had not been pleasant. That is to say, it hadn’t been mutual. After dating for several months, David decided it was time to see other people. You took that to mean he was already doing so, and was finally ready to let you go. You’d cried for days, unable to sleep or eat. The love of your life had broken your heart and crashed your dreams.
You think it was Marcie, or maybe your friend Deliah who finally got you out of bed and out into the world again. Though you hadn’t dated anyone since David, you had begun to feel much better about yourself, and realized there were other fishes in the sea.
Going to this party at Trevor’s loft hadn’t been your idea. But Marcie was seeing some guy named Ian who happened to know Trevor, and she insisted you come along. While you didn’t really know Trevor well yourself, he had been part of David’s circle of friends in high school. He apparently now owned a loft in the city that housed a bar. After some persistence, you finally agreed to go, hoping to God David wouldn’t show up.
The drinks were flowing, the chatter filling the room as you stood beside Marcie and Ian in a conversation about who knows what. For the last half hour, your eyes had been scouring the loft for your ex. Not because you wanted to see him, but because you didn’t. And if you got so much as a glimpse of him, you had already planned out your exit.
Trevor had greeted you at the door, welcoming most everyone who entered before making the rounds and making sure all hands were holding beverages. Deliah had come as well, with her long-time boyfriend Shane and they were currently at the bar for their second round.
“Ready for another?” Ian asked Marcie, noticing her glass was nearly empty.
“Sure,” she beamed at him.
“What about you, Y/N?”
“Oh, um, no…not just yet,” you replied. “I think I’ll make a stop at the ladies’ and then maybe walk around a bit.”
With a nod, Ian took your empty glass and you made your way to the restroom. Once you’d freshened up, you decided to make the rounds and check out the rest of the loft. You liked the ambiance - the exposed brick with industrial lighting and chrome countertops. Loud rock music permeated through the sound system, thumping through your veins. As you turned left, you noticed another extension with tables along the walls. Several people sat with their drinks in hand, chatting. Your eyes scanned the perimeter, taking in the various framed vintage posters, and you were just about to turn around when a set of male eyes caught your attention. They were staring right at you, a hand grasping a glass of beer. When you gave a gentle smile, he smiled back, full lips curling up to expose a set of dimples.
He was cute. Really cute. But probably too young for you. While his handsome features adorned a bit of facial hair, he still had a baby face. He wore a plaid button-down, and a cap set backwards on his head. He was probably some frat boy, you mused, barely twenty-one.
You saw him bite his lip as his gaze roamed down your body. To escape the feeling it gave you - chills, the good kind, right down to your core - you thought turning around and heading back the way you came would be the best idea. But fate wasn’t having it as you bumped into someone, nearly spilling the drink in his hand.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed over the Bon Jovi song that currently played through the speakers.
“It’s okay,” the guy chuckled. “I was trying to go around you but you turned. No harm done.”
You smiled with a sigh, grateful that he wasn’t an asshole. As you made your way back to the main part of the bar, you considered taking a sneak peek at the frat boy, but decided against it.
“Hey!” Deliah called out to you when you strode up to the bar. Wedging herself between you and another woman, she leaned into your ear. “Did you see him?”
“See who?” your eyes popped. “David’s not here, is he?”
“No. His brother Harry is though.”
Blinking several times, realization came to you. You’d forgotten David even had a brother. Harry had been younger than the two of you, a freshman when you were seniors. By the time you and David had become an item, his little brother had gone back to the UK.
“He just got back from college,” Deliah added. “Or uni as they call it over there.”
“He’s back from England?”
“Yeah. Apparently he’s super smart, got some kind of masters or something. He’s already gotten job offers both here and there.”
“How do you know all this?” you chuckled.
Deliah shrugged with a wink. “I’ve heard things.” Then she leaned forward again. “No, actually I saw him come in, and I thought he looked kind of familiar. I asked Trevor who he was.”
“Oh,” you nodded. Though Deliah had gone to your high school as well, she was two years younger than you, and you hadn’t really known each other then. You’d finally become friends after school. But it made sense why she would have recognized Harry since they were closer in age. You doubted you would recognize him. In fact, you hardly remembered what he’d looked like.
“Anyway, he looks really good now,” Deliah continued, smiling sheepishly, somewhat answering your inward question.
“Really?” you quirked a brow. “Where is he?”
“I saw him go that way, soon after he got here,” your friend gestured to the other area you’d just returned from. “But I haven’t seen him since.”
Just then, Deliah’s boyfriend came up behind her and poked her in her sides, making her squeal.
“Shane, you dork!” she exclaimed, playfully slapping him.
“Hey, I thought you said you wanted to do shots,” Shane smirked.
“Oh, I do! Y/N, go get Marcie and Ian so we can do them together!”
Turning your gaze around the bar area, you didn’t see your friends, so you decided to make your way to the other side. The cute frat boy was still sitting in the same spot, although he seemed to be interested in something on his phone. You found Marcie and Ian in the far corner, and you waved them over.
“We’re about to do shots,” you announced.
“Oh God, I don’t know if I wanna get shitfaced tonight,” argued Marcie.
“I’ll do one,” said Ian.
Marcie rolled her eyes, then grabbed your arm. “Okay, fine, let’s do one as a group. But I can’t promise anything else.”
You smiled at her, looping her arm through hers. Before you turned, you caught the frat boy staring at you again.
“Alright, we’re all here,” you cheered when you met back up with Deliah and Shane who immediately handed you a shot glass filled with golden liquid.
“Ugh, we’re doing Cuervo, seriously?” whined Marcie.
“Would you rather the harder stuff?” you quipped. “I thought you were a lightweight.”
Giving you a face, Marcie accepted her shot glass and on the count of three, you all swallowed your tequila. You were the only one who didn’t grab a lime wedge, however, because just as you lowered your glass, your eyes were glued to the tall man who’d just walked in.
“Motherfucker!”
Deliah glared at you in question as Marcie muttered, “Oh shit!”
“What’s wrong?” asked Ian.
“Her ex.”
You immediately thought the tequila would make its way back up as you sat there squeezing your glass. Marcie was kind enough to take it from your hand before you broke it.
“Did you know?” you swung to face Deliah.
“Me? No! Why would I?”
“Because you said his brother’s here,” you gritted your teeth. “And Trevor obviously knows both of them.”
“I swear, I didn’t,” Deliah shook her head. “I know it sounds stupid, but I didn’t even think to ask.”
You groaned as you watched David stop to chat with people, a blond on his arm. Damn, he still looked good, too.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N!” Deliah cried.
“It’s not your fault,” you sighed. “I just…I gotta get outta here.”
“Do you want us to drive you home?” asked Marcie. She and Ian had been your ride.
“No,” you argued. “You shouldn’t have to leave for me.”
Marcie sat up straight. “You know what I think? I think you should stay, show him his presence doesn’t bother you. You shouldn’t have to leave either just because his ass showed up!”
“Yeah!” Deliah agreed.
Chewing the inside of your cheek, you nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. I do need some air though.”
Rising from your stool, you felt Marcie squeeze your hand before you made your way through the crowd. That one shot was already getting to you, making you light-headed, your temples pounding and your skin hot. Or maybe that had simply been David’s doing.
Slipping past the line at the bathroom, you found the glass doors that led to a deck, pushing them open, the warm air hitting your face as the music was immediately muffled. The area was small, only a couple of tables and outdoor sofas which were occupied, but that was just as well. Running to the railing, you gasped, prepared to hurl the contents of your stomach. Instead, you took several deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves.
Fuck him for coming here! You cursed to yourself. My first night out and he has to show up!
You heard his voice before you saw him. “Hi.”
Turning around, you were met with the cute guy with the backwards snapback. Flustered, you fiddled with the long necklace around your neck. “Oh. Hi.”
For the first time, you noticed he had tattoos peeking from underneath his shirt on his chest, as well as some on his arm where the sleeves were rolled up. He seemed to stare at you again, even longer than he had from his table inside, almost as though he was trying to speak to you telepathically. Finally, he opened his mouth.
“Do I know you? You look really familiar to me.”
“No, I don’t believe so,” you said. “I’m Y/N.”
His lips spread into a charismatic grin, his dimples appearing again. Then he held out his hand. “I’m Harry.”
You felt your stomach plummet to your feet. Of fucking course. Harry Styles. David’s brother. You should have known.
God damn it.
Standing before him now, you could see the resemblance - the sharp jawline, the straight nose, the way his eyebrows perfectly framed his eyes. Only David had blue eyes, and Harry’s appeared to be green. And David didn’t have those dimples, nor any tattoos.
Obviously Harry didn’t know who you were. Deciding not to let your shock or disdain be known, you shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”
“You as well. I um…saw you earlier…inside. You seemed to be…looking for someone.” As Harry said the words, he stepped to your right, leaning his elbow nonchalantly against the railing, his gaze never leaving your face.
“No, I wasn’t,” you conveyed.
“That’s too bad. I was kinda hoping it was me.”
Feeling the color rise to your cheeks, you quickly looked away and chuckled. So he was a flirt. Alright.
“I see,” you smirked. “Sorry to disappoint you, Harry. I was just checking out the rest of the bar.”
“Hmm,” he nodded. “Find anything you like?”
You rolled your eyes at his second attempt at a flirty joke. “Is this your usual method?”
“Method?” He raised a brow.
“For pursuing women. You seem pretty sure of yourself.”
Harry shrugged, “I thought confidence was key.”
Letting out a louder chuckle, you shook your head. “Stop.”
“Only if you let me buy you a drink first,” he grinned.
You stared at him with pursed lips. He was still really cute, you had to admit. And so what if he was your ex’s brother. He had no idea who you were. And you were already enjoying the attention. With a sigh, you licked your lips and shrugged. “I suppose I can allow that.”
You caught the twinkle in Harry’s eyes under the light glow of the outdoor string lights as his dimples deepened in his cheeks.
“Uh, you want it out here, or…”
“No, let’s go back inside,” you suggested.
Harry held the door open for you as you made your way back inside. The chill of the air conditioning brought goosebumps to your skin, but it felt nice, especially on your face which you were certain was still flushed. When you stopped and turned slightly to address Harry, he bumped into you.
“Oop, sorry,” he said in your ear, his hand resting on your hip. You noticed immediately how warm it felt, a spark igniting from within.
“‘S okay,” you smiled. “I was just gonna ask if you’d like to sit at the bar, or did you prefer a table?”
“I have no preference, love,” he replied. “You lead the way.”
After Harry’s hand slid up from your hip to your lower back, you headed for the bar, a bit relieved to find your friends gone. You found a lone empty stool near the corner which Harry insisted you take.
“What’ll you have?” you heard him ask, his breath in your ear.
“Tequila shot,” you answered.
“Really?” Harry raised a brow.
“Yeah, anything wrong with that?”
“No,” he smirked. “Just surprised is all.”
“Hm, well I feel like letting loose. Actually, better make it two.” Flipping your hair off your shoulders, you gazed around the bar. No sign of David yet. You hoped he was nowhere near.
Harry placed the drink order, surprising you this time by ordering two shots for himself as well. As soon as the bartender laid out the row of glasses, the couple who was next to you got up, freeing one of the stools for Harry. Sitting down, he smiled at you, taking one of the shot glasses and raising it. You grabbed one for yourself, not forgetting a lime wedge this time, and mirrored his grin.
“Cheers,” you said as you clinked your glass against his before downing the warm liquid.
Harry did the same, swallowing both shots in record time. Crossing your legs, you swiveled on your stool before licking your lips seductively. With a smirk, Harry eyed you.
“You gonna take that second one, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you playfully rolled your eyes. “Give me a minute. Clearly I don’t move as fast as you.”
“Seems to me you do,” he remarked as he watched you lick the salt off the rim of the glass.
You chuckled at his words. He had you pegged already. You had to admit it was a turn-on. Grabbing a second lime wedge, you took your second tequila shot and sucked on the green fruit, your eyes on Harry’s.
You liked how he watched you. He was more than just a flirt. His eyes told you what he wanted. It had merely been a few minutes and you already knew his intentions. And you were completely okay with it.
“How was it?” he asked, his gaze now on your mouth as you pulled out the lime wedge and licked your lips.
“Delicious,” you replied, dropping the fruit on a napkin. “Good things are worth taking time with.”
“Is that right?” he grinned.
“Mmm,” you nodded.
“You want another?”
“Oh Lord, no. At least not right now. A beer maybe? Whatever it was you were drinking earlier.”
Harry’s smile grew as he nodded. “You got it.”
As he placed another order with the bartender, you took a moment to examine just how attractive he was. While he resembled his brother, he really had his own way about him, a sense of beauty that David had lacked. You couldn’t believe you were even telling yourself that, but you couldn’t deny it. The man was really handsome. You found yourself wanting to reach out and touch the tan skin on his neck and jaw.
“So, Y/N,” he said, his attention turned back to you, “tell me about yourself.”
“Me?” you blinked. “Believe me, there is nothing you wanna know about me.”
“Oh, I beg to differ,” he grinned. “Let’s start with why are you here tonight…alone?”
“I’m not alone. I came with some friends.”
“Who are attached,” he added. “I saw them.”
“Oh.” So he had definitely been watching you, checking you out. Noticing you were alone.
“You’re way too gorgeous to be by yourself, Y/N.”
You felt a weakness in your knees even though you weren’t standing. “I could say the same about you,” you muttered, surprising yourself.
Harry’s dimples appeared again as the bartender set down your glasses of beer.
“Saved by the bell,” he commented, grabbing his drink.
You reached for yours as well, but before you could take a sip, your gaze flew up to a couple making their way to the bar. Shit.
“Um, let’s take these to a table,” you hastily said as David and his girlfriend got closer.
“Oh. You sure?”
“Yeah. Bar’s getting crowded, and I’m sure people are waiting to get up here. Plus, we can talk more at a table.”
Harry smiled at you. “Okay.”
Taking his glass, he quickly helped you off your stool and followed you to the other area where you had originally seen him. Sliding into a circular booth, you sighed, happy you had avoided running into your ex.
“This better?” Harry asked when he’d slid in next to you, very closely.
“Mmm, much,” you grinned.
“Not trying to avoid your friends are you?”
“What? No. Why would you think that?”
“I saw one of them walking up to the bar, then stop and turn around.”
“Oh! Really? I didn’t see them.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Harry shrugged. “I’m still interested in hearing more about you.”
“I told you, there’s nothing to tell.”
“Well…no boyfriend obviously,” he said.
“No.”
“What about work or school?”
“I work…” you teased. “A very boring job. And…I finished school long ago.”
“I see,” he smirked, his eyes never leaving your face. “How long ago?”
“Doesn’t matter,” you said, repeating his words.
“No,” he chuckled. “It doesn’t. I just finished though.”
“Oh?” you shifted in your seat, glad he brought it up himself.
“Yeah. Just got back. I was studying in London.”
“Oooh! Is that where you’re from?” you pretended to be intrigued.
“Manchester, actually, or at least originally. My family moved here when I was a kid.”
“I see! That’s interesting!” Even though you technically knew all of this already, it sounded different coming from him. You watched him guzzle a little of his beer before asking the next question of which you were actually interested.
“So what were you studying?”
“Engineering. Got my masters.”
With wide eyes you sat up. “Damn, that’s impressive, Harry!”
“Thanks,” he snorted.
“What do you plan to do with that?”
“Dunno yet. I have a few prospects…both here and in London. I’m just not sure which road is best for me yet.”
“I see,” you nodded. Then with a grin, you playfully slapped his arm. “And here I thought you were just some frat boy.”
Harry chuckled. “Sorry, did I disappoint you?”
“Fuck, no!” you shook your head, sliding closer to him. “Not at all.”
Suddenly thirsty, you drank almost half of your beer in just a few gulps. Feeling Harry’s eyes on you, you looked up at him and licked your lips. He stared at you for a moment, and just before you were about to say something, he lifted his hand to slide a finger down your cheek. Goosebumps erupted on your flesh and you parted your lips to let out a gasp.
“You’re really pretty,” he said. Or at least you think he did. It was hard to tell over the loud music, and his tone was so soft.
“Thanks,” you mouthed.
Sitting up a little, Harry leaned forward and reached for your necklace. “This is pretty too.”
“Oh, thanks,” you half-giggled, looking down at the amulet. “It doesn’t really mean anything, I just like the color of the stone-”
Before you could finish the sentence, Harry lifted your chin, his gaze focused on your mouth. Then leaning even closer, he took a split second to look into your eyes for reassurance before pressing his lips to yours.
So soft. Clouds. Pillowy. Sweet. These were words that invaded your mind, as you could not possibly think of anything else. Nothing else but that kiss. His lips.
You felt his hand on your knee before your brain processed it. His fingers found the hem of your dress, pushing it up slightly just as your tongue felt an electric sensation when it was met with his. Your own hand reached for his chest, somehow of its own accord, for surely you had no control. The warmth it was met with was intense, and the zealous beating of his heart underneath matched your own.
The sudden way he separated the kiss, however, was unexpected.
“Oh!” you gasped, finding his face still inches from yours. Blinking, you tried to read him.
“Sorry,” he said, his mouth quivering into a smile. When his dimples appeared, you relaxed a bit. “Sorry, sweetheart. I think…I’m pretty drunk.”
His chuckle didn’t quite reassure you, nor did the wipe of his hand down his face. Sitting up straight, you pursed your lips and shrugged. “So am I.”
With a gentle grin, Harry said, “I’m not usually one to take advantage of girls when we’re drunk.”
You tilted your head and eyed him before letting out a loud guffaw. “Seriously?”
“What?”
“You don’t have to give me a line, Harry. If you’re not into me, just say so.”
“Fuck, that’s not it at all! I’m so into you!”
“Really.” Your sarcastic tone was apparent as you reached for your glass. Harry stopped you, taking your hand.
“Yeah. I was just worried you would think…”
“That you’re just looking to get laid?”
You weren’t sure what made you do it, perhaps it was the alcohol or your own desire to get fucked, but when you brought his fingers to your mouth and began to suck and nibble on them, Harry’s jaw dropped and he shut his eyes. You watched his throat as he swallowed hard, and when he opened his eyes again, his thumb between your teeth, you could read the passion in his eyes.
“You wanna get outta here?” he asked with a growl.
“Thought you’d never ask,” you grinned. Gulping the rest of your beer, you started to slide out of the booth. “Just let me freshen up in the ladies’ room.”
“Okay. I’m getting an Uber, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Perfect,” you beamed. Then giving him a quick kiss, you headed for the restroom.
You weren’t in the stall ten seconds when you heard your name.
“Y/N, are you in here?”
“Uh, yeah?” you called out.
Heels clicked closer to your stall and stopped. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” asked Marcie.
“Oh hey, I’m getting ready to leave, so I won’t need a ride home, okay?”
“Uh huh. And just who are you leaving with?”
“Okay, it’s a guy,” you said, flushing the toilet.
“Y/N!” Marcie yelled.
Opening the stall door, you were met with her fuming, scowling face.
“What?” you pretended to be oblivious.
“Deliah saw you with Harry Styles. Are you out of your mind? He’s your ex’s brother!”
“So?” you shrugged, walking to the sink
“So? This is a bad idea, Y/N!”
“Why?”
“Because! You’ll regret it!”
“I don’t know,” you argued, reaching for a paper towel. “Maybe, maybe not. All I know is, right now I’m drunk, and he’s so fucking cute, and he’s into me.”
“Does he even know who you are?” Marcie cried.
“No. And he doesn’t need to. Just let me have my fun, alright?” You tossed the paper towel in the garbage and reached your arms out to your friend. “Please.”
“I’m not hugging you, Y/N,” said Marcie. “This is one time I don’t agree with you. You’re only doing this because you saw David here tonight. I already helped you pick up the pieces after he broke your heart. I’m not doing it again.”
With a tight jaw, you headed for the door. “Fine.”
The Uber ride to Harry’s place was quick. He explained he lived in a furnished apartment for now since he’d just returned from the UK, so you were kind of expecting something that looked like a motel, but you were pleasantly surprised when he opened the door to a really nice place.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked when he tossed his keys on the table.
“Maybe just some water,” you replied.
“Of course, love,” he smiled. “Follow me.”
You stood in the doorway of the small kitchen as Harry retrieved bottles of water from the fridge, handing you one. Thanking him, you took it and quenched your thirst. At least the hydrating thirst. A different kind of thirst had started taking over as soon as he’d kissed you at the loft.
Setting your bottle on the counter, you stepped closer to him. He smiled when you ran your hand up his arm. Lifting your chin again with his finger, he gazed down at you with his amazing eyes. Eyes that spoke volumes.
This time as soon as your lips collided, you immediately felt the need to touch him. Pressing your hand against his chest like before, you were happy to feel the rapid speed of his heartbeat. When his tongue met yours, you moaned against his mouth, earning one from him as well. Your other hand joined the other where they hastily unbuttoned his shirt, spreading the fabric open to reveal more ink. You let your fingertips dance down his pecks and abs before reaching the waistband of his jeans. His mouth left yours momentarily as Harry shoved out of his shirt, letting it drop on the floor. His hat fell off in the process, some of his brown curls falling forward and framing his features. Then he cupped your face, his lips open and swollen from the kisses.
“You’re driving me crazy, you sexy thing,” he growled.
“That’s good, because I’ve been going mad for you all night,” you remarked, a little proud of your quick wit.
A smirk threatened to quiver on his lips before they crashed into you again. Moaning against him again, you slipped your hands around his neck, letting his soft curls thread around your fingers. Though you tried not to let it remind you of David - he’d had curly hair too - you allowed yourself to be captivated by all that was Harry.
Harry. Harry. Harry…
As you reveled in the sensation of his soft lips and hungry tongue, your fingers in his hair, you felt his hands leave your face and travel down your shoulders. His kisses on your mouth were soon replaced by kisses on your neck, which you leaned back to give him full access to.
“Mmm, you taste so good,” you heard him mumble against your skin. “Bet you taste good everywhere, hmm?”
“Would you like to find out?” you teased.
“Fuck, yeah baby,” he swallowed, raising his head to look at you. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”
He took your hand and guided you through the living room to the back room, a lovely bed in the center. Kicking off his shoes, Harry quickly lifted you onto the bed. As he hovered over you, you took in his beauty, his gorgeous physique and toned arms. The sexiness was enough to make you wet, and you knew as soon as he touched you, you would fucking lose it.
“This little fucking dress,” Harry tutted, shaking his head as he slid a strap down your shoulder. “As soon as I saw you, stood there like a lost little angel in her little black dress…I knew I needed to somehow be the one to take it off.”
“Really?” you chuckled nervously.
“Mmm,” he nodded. “I reckon I was right.”
Sitting back on his knees, Harry slipped his hands up your thighs and underneath your dress. You gasped when his fingers reached the edge of your panties, but he stopped and ran his hands down again to the edge of your dress. Then grabbing the hem, he lifted it up. You raised your hips to assist him, then sat up to pull it over your head.
“Fuck me, look at you,” he groaned, letting your flimsy dress drop from his fingers and onto the floor.
Laying back down, you watched him as he hovered over you again, his eyes taking in every inch of you. You suddenly felt a bit nervous, though you tried your best not to let it show. His head lowered to your chest, as he cupped your breast and gently sucked on your nipple. Your breaths quickened as the heat rose in your core. You could already feel it tightening as he moved to the other breast, his soft, warm tongue tasting your delicate skin. Raking your fingers through his hair, you secretly hoped he would move faster, just to let you feel a quick release. You reached down to grab hold of your necklace when he lifted his head.
“Oh, let’s remove this too, sweetheart,” he suggested. “Don’t want it to get in the way.”
Gently slipping the amulet around your neck, Harry laid your necklace on his nightstand.
“Where shall I taste you next?” he asked with a smirk. He chuckled low at your wide eyes before he slid his hand down to your panties.
“Maybe…here?”
Your chest heaving, you nodded. “Yes.”
“Mmm, I think so too,” Harry agreed. “But first…”
Sitting up again, he grabbed the sides of your black panties and pulled them down. You watched him as he seemed to ponder how or what to do next. Then guiding your legs open a bit more, he swiped his finger up your center. With a gasp and a moan combined, you trembled.
“Hmm, looks like my angel is wet already,” he commented.
“You have no idea,” you cried.
“Oh, and maybe a bit needy.”
You groaned, wanting Harry to get on with it, make a move. Your pussy was throbbing so badly, you thought surely he could tell. When he slid his thumb across your clit this time, you nearly came undone.
“Oh God!”
“Aw, baby. You need to be touched?” Harry cooed.
“So badly, Harry…” you breathed. “Please.”
“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” Harry laid down beside you and lifted your thigh to rest against his. Then licking his fingers, he pressed them against your clit, gently moving in a circular motion.
“You like this?” he asked as you began to breathe faster.
“Yes,” you replied as you looked at his face. It had been a while since anyone had touched you like that. It almost felt like high school, like you were doing something naughty with the risk of being caught.
Harry leaned forward and kissed you, his fingers still doing their magic. When he slipped his tongue in between your lips, you began to suck on it, earning a moan from his throat. You weren’t sure if it was his excitement that turned you on more, or the quickening of his fingers, but you suddenly felt yourself reaching the edge, the familiar tightening in your belly. Gasping against his mouth, you had to let go, his fingers continuing in the perfect rhythm as you rode out your climax.
“Wow, sweetheart, that was fast,” said Harry. “Been a long time, yeah?”
You shut your eyes as you blushed. “Maybe.”
“Hmm, then I’m gonna have to do that again. Make it count. Don’t you think?”
“Touch me again?” you asked, opening your eyes.
“No, make you come again. As many times as it takes.”
You stared at him as he slithered his body down the bed and situated himself between your legs.
“I still get a free taste, right?” he wiggled his brows.
You chuckled, throwing your arm over your eyes. “Yes.”
You felt his breath tickle your flesh just before he kissed each inner thigh. When his mouth met your cunt you puffed out a loud breath. His lips surrounded your clit first, then his tongue met the delicate bud, circling the way his fingers had. With a moan, you opened your legs wider, running your hands down your breasts. Harry looked up at you and noticed, ran his hands up your stomach and met your fingers.
You liked that, Harry’s eyes on you as you both circled your hands around your tits and nipples. It felt sexy and intimate. When you began to moan louder, however, Harry released your hands and lifted your hips. One finger danced around your opening first before entering. Grabbing hold of the bedding beneath you, you felt your legs shake. But when he inserted a second finger and his mouth returned to your clit, you thought you might come.
“Oh, fuck! Harry!” you shouted.
“Feel good, baby?”
“Yes! Right there. Oh, God!”
Harry hummed against your cunt as his fingers fucked you, beckoning you inside your walls, touching exactly the right spot, urging you to come all over them.
You weren’t sure you’d ever come so hard in your life. Your fingers dug into his hair. Your legs trembled on either side of his head, your toes curled into the bed as you cried out his name and a few expletives.
When he lifted his head and slid his fingers out, you half expected him to laugh. But instead, he crawled up your body and kissed you with fervor.
“I knew you’d taste good,” he said.
You stared at him, half wondering where the hell he’d come from. Obviously you knew, but figuratively speaking…he must have learned this shit in London because his brother had never made you come like that.
Before you could think anymore about David, Harry asked you a question you hadn’t expected to hear.
“Do you need a minute before we try again?”
“Try again?”
“Yeah,” he grinned his dimpled grin. “I know it’s a bit selfish of me, but I really wanna fuck you.”
You couldn’t help but cackle, which only made him grin wider. “That’s not selfish at all,” you said.
“No? Good.”
Fuck! He was so cute and charming and giving. Maybe you’d had a thing for the wrong brother all along! You played with his hair a bit as he stared at you. Then you shook your head.
“No…to answer your first question. I don’t need a minute.”
With another grin, Harry rose from the bed and unbuttoned his jeans. You watched him peel them off, followed by his underwear, his erection springing free. Then opening a drawer in the nightstand, he retrieved a condom. Crawling back onto the bed, he handed it to you.
“Would you?”
Smiling, you sat up, happy to oblige. Grabbing the condom packet, however, you paused.
“Just a second…”
Situating yourself in front of him, you grabbed hold of his shaft and stuck out your tongue. You heard him hiss when it grazed his cock, your mouth then enveloping it. You let the saliva in your mouth produce enough to lubricate his head, and when you popped off, you used your hand to glide the wetness. Then you did it a second time.
“Fuck, babe,” Harry groaned. “That’s so good, but…you don’t…have to…”
“Mmm, I want to,” you said, sliding your tongue across his shaft. “Just for a minute.”
Hollowing out your mouth, you sucked on him while your right hand moved up and down, and your left reached for his balls.
“Shit, Y/N,” he breathed, grasping your hair. “Honey, please. I want…”
“My pussy?” you looked up at him.
“Yeah.”
Letting go, you adjusted your position as Harry ran his hands down your shoulders. “Is that okay? I don’t-”
“Of course, Harry,” you beamed at him. “I just wanted to taste you too before we got started.”
His smile was incredible as he watched you put the condom on. Then he kissed you passionately before laying you back down on the bed. His eyes on you, licked his fingers and ran them up your pussy.
“Still wet,” he commented with a raised brow.
Then he aimed his cock at your entrance and thrust slowly. You could feel him stretching your walls, a sweet sting as he entered fully. With a low cry, you held onto him.
“Feel okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” you nodded.
“Tell me what you like, baby. I wanna do it all.”
“I’m pretty easy to please,” you replied. “Fuck me how you like.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re so hot,” he chuckled before moving his hips faster.
You clinged to him as he fucked into you, already reaching the spot he’d reached with his fingers. You weren’t sure if you could come again so soon, but it felt incredible. As he moved faster, you heard the squelching sounds of your wet cunt and his balls hitting you. You began to moan, tiny little whimpers at first.
“Yeah…” moaned Harry. “God, I love the sounds you make. So fucking sexy.”
“It feels really good,” you cried.
“Yeah it does. Your pussy’s so warm and wet.”
You continued to whimper as Harry thrust harder, holding down your hands. Your legs wrapped around him as he looked into your eyes. When he began to moan, he slowed a bit, his thrusts sloppy.
“C’mere, baby,” he said, sitting back on his knees. “Ride me.”
Though your legs were weak, you did as he requested, holding onto his shoulders. As you slid down his cock, you could tell you were close.
“Yeah, just like that, angel. Ride my cock.”
You bounced on him a few times before calling out, “Oh, fuck!”
“You gonna come for me again, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you gasped.
“You feel me deep inside?”
“Yes. Oh, God! Oh, it’s so fucking deep!”
“Yeah. Come for me, honey. I want you to come all over my cock.”
You cried out then, doing just as he asked. Every nerve inside your pussy contracted, and you came even harder than before.
“Fuck!” you exclaimed, falling like a rag doll on his chest.
Harry chuckled, lifting you up. “Hang on, angel, we’re not done.”
“I…I can’t, Harry. I can’t come again.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm…we’ll see.”
Laying back down on the bed, Harry still inside you, he began to move again. You whimpered again, not under duress, but simply fatigue. But you wanted Harry to come. For all he’d done for you, he deserved it.
He moved slowly at first, and the longer he continued, the more it started to feel good, until finally you started to moan louder.
“Fuck yeah, baby,” Harry moaned with you. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”
“It’s because you turn me on.”
“Yeah?” he asked as he thrust faster.
“Oh my God yeah, fuck me like that!” you cried.
“Yeah, you gonna come again?”
“Yes, baby!”
“Good girl.”
Harry’s groans were getting louder as you felt your fourth orgasm hit you. You cried out his name as he pounded you hard, calling you good girl. Then his own climax came, his body trembling over you as he moaned deeply in your ear.
“Fuck…” he exhaled with a chuckle. “That was so good. Wow.”
He kissed you hard after you both caught your breath.
“You’re so sexy, Y/N.”
“So are you.” You traced his mouth with your finger before giving him a smile.
“You wanna stay the night? I mean, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
“I am…” you said, considering his offer.
“So…yeah?”
You nodded. Maybe it was a bad idea. But you were so tired, you didn’t think you could even get up.
Harry did help you up, though, so you could clean up in the bathroom. But as soon as you were underneath his covers and he wrapped his arm around you, you were off to dreamland.
The next morning, you woke up while Harry was still sleeping. Tiptoeing to the bathroom, you did your business and returned to a buzzing sound. Realizing it was probably a phone, you found Harry’s in his jeans he’d discarded the night before. Curious, you looked at it and noticed five missed calls. One from his brother, David. And four from someone named Melanie. Plus a text from the same number that simply said, Can we talk?
Fucking great.
Hi, if you enjoyed this, please let me know as I'm considering a part 2 :).
tagging: @daphnesutton, @freedomfireflies
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x reader#harry styles fic#harry styles smut#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles x y/n#harry fanfiction#harry fan fiction#harry fan fic#harry fanfic#harry x reader#harry fic#harry smut#harry one shot#harry blurb#harry imagine#harry x yn#fratboy harry#but not really
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okay so I saw an ask that's similar to a situation I'm going through, and now I feel like I have to ask...AITA? NSFW content
(🐊🩷💀 for me to find)
this will be long, I'll try to shorten it
I've been married to my (25f) partner (27 mtf) for almost 6 years. I'm going to use he/him pronouns for him because he hasn't begun his transition and still wants these pronouns, but 3 years ago he came out to me as trans. we live in a not great state (US) for that, and so he hasn't begun his transition bc he personally doesn't want to start until he can also start medically, but, he was born a male and wants to transition to female
This was nbd to me at the time because I'm bisexual, so I was like "alright cool let's figure out how to get out of this state then and let you live your best life." we haven't been able to move financially, but we are hoping for next year.
When I believed he was still a male (if this is not the proper wording PLEASE correct me, I just don't know how else to say it??) we had this understanding that if I wanted to sleep with women, I could, bc I never have actually slept w a woman before. This never actually happened bc I'm terrible at flirting/weird w sex in general, so it never applied. However, around the time he came out to me, I began maturing (?) sexually myself. I got a SUPER high libido out of nowhere, started thinking about things I've never really wanted to do before (threesomes, etc) and thought about the possibility of sleeping w other men bc, idk, I just wanted to? I honestly considered (am still considering) if I'm sexually monogamous or not
I LOVE my partner, I do not want to leave him, but I literally cannot control my sex drive. When we have sex, it's great, but I also wanna sleep around a little. It has nothing to do w him and I don't wanna leave him, and honestly I don't even like the men I've considered as people, I just think they're hot. I'd never date them in a million years bc they're personalities are...not compatible to me. I honestly think they're assholes, it's just physical.
Anyways, when he came out, a few weeks later I proposed this question to him. I said "hey, you always said I could sleep with a woman bc it'd be a different experience than I could get with you, when you medically transition, can I sleep with men? I really like sex with a penis and you know straps kinda scare me a little. of course it'd just be sex." He kinda flipped, we got in a big argument and almost broke up over it bc he thinks I want to cheat on him. It doesnt help that around the same time, a male friend was showing big big interest in me, and when my husband asked who I'd even want to sleep with, I said this friend, and then he was convinced I had feelings for him and I lost some of his trust. Nothing ever happened w this friend, and nothing EVER would without my partner knowing and being okay with it, but he definitely lost trust in me.
His side of the story is, well honestly I don't understand it. I've been too afraid to bring it up again bc of how big the fight was, and everytime I broach the subject, he thinks I want to leave him/cheat on him. He says he's uncomfortable w me having sex w a man even after he transitions. He's tried explaining how it's different to him, but I don't understand. I think a lot of it is he just doesn't trust men and honestly probably hates them. I'm definitely attracted to women, but I like penetrative sex. Penetrative toys scare me, I've had panic attacks using them before. I just can't do it, I don't see them as an option. I love my partner and I dont want to leave him, but I also don't want to forego a sexual experience I enjoy.
TLDR; I've gotten a crazy high libido the last few years, my trans partner is uncomfortable with me sleeping with men once he transitions, even though I've been "allowed" to sleep with women this entire time that he still presents as male
Am I the asshole? Would I be if I brought it up again?
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i’m always sad on my birthday. it’s a tradition of sorts.
today i woke up and my girlfriend, who i must point out does Not live with me, simply Was downstairs with an olaf cutout, a balloon, and a cake she made herself to resemble ice and snow because i jokingly once told her i’d order a frozen cake if i were ever to have a birthday party. (but i wouldn’t, because i don’t like my birthday. always sad on it, like i said.) she waited for me to stop crying and then handed me my present — it was a bessie coleman barbie!! i cried again lmao. we sat down, had cake for breakfast then did what we do best — fuck all — until it was lunch time. i cooked us lunch and then we went to get all dolled up because it’s my birthday, i deserve to at least look hot. we went to the mall to hunt for hello kitty 50th anniversary collection stuff. found some things!! got a free lipstick and a free chocolate truffle bc It’s My Birthday Gimme Free Shit. then we left for this japanese place i’ve been meaning to try for some time, and holy shit, it was SO good. best sushi i’ve ever had. i had a tuna nigiri with truffle oil and this little spicy pepper that was so good i might actually cry thinking about it
ANYWAY.
i’m always sad on my birthday. it’s a tradition of sorts. there are reasons and i could sit here and explain them to you but the truth of the matter is i cannot remember one single one of them for the life of me. i cannot name one. i’m sure they exist but today there was a good morning, happy birthday, i love you and a cardboard olaf and coffee with her favorite cornbread and shimeji for lunch and old 90s nostalgia as we got dressed and a dress she picked out to match mine and hello kitty glazed nuts and some very good fucking sushi and honestly, i can’t think of anything else right now. i can’t and i won’t occupy my mind with anything else at this moment. i’ll remember the bad anniversaries later, i’m sure. maybe i’ll remember them when it’s useful. maybe it will never be. ever again. maybe this is how all of my birthdays from now on go. maybe this is how they were always supposed to be. i don’t know. i wouldn’t, would i? but for once i’ll leave the dread for later. i don’t care about you, ugly ugly thing. for now, it’s all sunshine up in here, baby!
i do not know what i did to deserve to be loved so well. i’ve decided to stop questioning it. i simply choose to believe her and in turn choose to believe that i am — somehow, miraculously, unbelievingly — a person worthy of being loved by someone like her. and with that. with that. everything else becomes mere background noise
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something i’ve wondered often is just how much raphael’s humanity truly affects him. i know that he absolutely would do everything he could to hide it. it would be seen as a vulnerability, a weakness, to the other denizens of the hells. and it definitely seems that he believes that to be true himself.
(it makes me wonder if that’s why he sounds so pissed when you ask him why he thinks he could use the crown when karsus failed. “I AM NO MORTAL.”)
we’ve seen instances where he weaponizes his human qualities, uses them to lower the guard of his victims.
but do you think he ever has genuine human moments? whether he realizes it or not.
Raphael and Humanity
Oh, I absolutely think he has genuine human moments, but he has had many many many many years to learn to suppress all those ‘icky mortal aspects’ of himself. The “I AM NO MORTAL” quote stinks of insecurity. Which also makes perfect sense. Cambions rarely survive to adulthood because both mortals and devils absolutely hates their guts, which is why our dear cambion keeps mentioning that he’s a devil, and not as much as once does he refer to himself as a cambion or even alludes to the fact that he is half mortal (not that I can remember anyhow).
Do I think he lets himself cry or things like that in his private life? No. He’s too hardened by all those millennia of living in the Hells.
I think it’s more likely that he every now and again experiences a Mortal Feeling™ towards someone and internally goes “Ew…Anyways—” and goes on with his day.
HOWEVER, I certainly thinks that even though he is not really that capable of feeling sorry or feeling empathy for others and stuff like that, I 100% think he is capable of feeling sorry for himself. I think that if he is haunted by “mortal feelings” its usually pointed towards himself and never outward. And yeah, have fun with that thought the next time you think about the fact that he only ever wants to sleep with himself. He only allows himself to feel for himself, so that could be interpreted as him wanting to see the only person he allows himself to feel for when having sex because human-like devils can crave love (though they might not be able to give it)…Okay, I want to cry now :) on to the next point...
I also think that he uses art as an outlet for all of that, because in my opinion, his fascination with poetry, painting, and music screams human to me. We know that he likes pretty dark themes for his poetry but it’s still beautiful in a way (although it is arguably not great poetry). Clinging to a sort of dark beauty even though you live in such a grim place as the Hells seems a bit human-like to me.
(Thank you for the ask <3 That became a long one)
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Uneggspected - Tokyo Debunkers
Pairing: Haru x Reader
Warnings: Egg.
Word Count: 1.1k
A/N: Finally posting again! Celebrating with a Tokyo Debunkers fic to feed the fans
You needed a break. Constantly going from house to house, mission to mission, was draining you. So you did what you always did when you needed a break: visited Jabberwock. The rolling fields, sunny sky, and cute anomalies was like a haven. You happily skipped down the walkway and to the dorms. You knocked happily.
"You're here!" Haru said as he whipped open the door. "Perfect!"
"Were you expecting- woah!"
Haru tugged you inside the dorm. His hand clamped down tight on yours as he dragged you to the kitchen. On the kitchen floor was a large egg. You blinked once. Then twice. That was a big egg. You looked over at Haru who had a frown.
"Egg?"
"I don't know how to be a mother." He sighed and shook his head.
"Peekaboo is literally your child."
"I don't know how to raise an egg!"
Okay, this was weird. But it's normal. At least, for this dorm. This place was like a zoo, after all. You crouched and studied the egg. It was white, with purple and green dots all over it. You tried to think about all the anomalies you've seen here. You don't really remember any of them being egg layers. None of them looked like egg layers, but what would that even look like in the first place?
"What is it?"
"An egg."
You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, I see that. But from where?"
Haru shrugged. He set down Peekaboo who started sniffing around the egg. "It was just delivered here. No notes, info, nothing. I was told to just wait until it hatched."
"Oh." You looked up at Haru. "I'm guessing you want my help?"
"Please." He sat next to you.
"Fine. Are we just gonna sit here and wait for it to hatch?"
He smiled at you. You took it as a yes and settled down in a more comfortable position. This wasn't so bad. It was technically a break and you weren't necessarily doing anything. Just sitting and watching an egg. Would it be your idea of relaxation? No. What you really wanted to do was just cuddle Peekaboo for a bit then call it a day.
Haru sat quietly next to you. His face was twisted in concentration. With how much he was always bouncing around, it was a little odd to see him so stationary. Peekaboo waddled around the egg, cooing and making curious sounds. You smiled softly.
"You doing okay?" Haru suddenly asked.
"Yeah? Why?" You looked back over at him. He kept that serious gaze.
"You look tired. And your face was sad when I answered the door."
You frowned. "Excuse you, I was smiling."
"Your heart was frowning."
"Cheesy."
He sighed and scooted closer to you. "I know. But I am kinda worried about you. You're always going from mission to mission."
You rolled your eyes. "Oh, please. It's not as bad as the work you do. Do you even go to classes because of how much you're working here? Or sleep more than three hours?"
"Hey!" He put his hands up in defense. "Don't turn your attention to me. This, I'm used to. I'm a ghoul. It's nothing. But you? How are you really feeling?"
The playful smirk on your face slowly melted. The memories of how you felt when you first arrived flooded your mind. You slowly hugged your knees to your chest. You rested your cheek on your knees. You didn't want to think about it. If you did, it would make your brain feel all goopy. It would make you realize that you would probably never find a cure for the curse that was put on you.
Haru sighed. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around you. It was odd. It felt odd. But you kept your gaze on the egg and leaned slightly into him. Haru always seemed so aloof. From what you've seen of him, he was like you. Constantly on the go so he didn't have to think. Just the thought made you sad.
"Oh. The egg." Haru pointed at it. The egg wiggled.
"Huh. Is it about to hatch?"
You leaned forward and studied it. The egg shook again. A small crack formed on the top. You got an uneasy feeling. Not all anomalies were nice. They could look cute, but bite your finger off. You witnessed Peekaboo go feral when it wasn't fed on time. And this egg would no doubt have a hungry anomaly searching for its first meal. You leaned back.
"I think we should bring it outside." You said, looking over at Haru.
He tilted his head. "I thought it would be more comfortable in here."
"Yeah, but what if it's like… dangerous? Or starts running around everywhere?"
"That's a good idea. We should-"
The egg started to form more cracks. Your eyes grew wide. Haru started cursing and picked up the egg. He ran towards the front door, you and Peekaboo trailing behind him. The three of you ran far from the dorm before setting it back down. The egg was shaking violently. Haru pushed you behind him, keeping his grip on your wrist.
"Get ready to run!" He said.
The egg fell apart. And inside… was another egg.
"The fuck?" You narrowed your eyes.
"Oh my god, it's an egg!" Haru sighed and let go of your wrist.
"Waaah!!"
The egg sprouted eyes and lips, tears streaming down its shell. Okay, that was creepy. The face was oddly human as it continued to cry. Maybe you had enough of a break for today. You backed away slowly. Haru wouldn't let you.
"Where are you going? Don't leave your child."
You tried shaking off his grip. "That's your child! Not mine!"
He gasped. "How dare you! We hatched it together. That means we're both parents."
"No. I'm leaving. And I'm not paying child support."
"What is wrong with you two?" Ren appeared by your side. He was in his diner uniform.
You and Haru looked at each other. You smirked. He smiled brightly. Poor Ren, didn't know what he was walking into. Haru picked up the crying egg and placed it in Ren's arms. Ren immediately looked disgusted.
"Ew! What the hell is this thing?! Get it away! It's so ugly!"
"Sorry, Ren." Haru grabbed your hand once again. "We need you to take care of the egg while we go finish chores."
"What?! No! I have to go to work!"
"Thanks for being a good brother!" You said as you and Haru left him behind.
"Why am I the brother?!"
You and Haru just ran away. Giggles left your mouth as the two of you ran. Haru's hand felt warm and comforting on yours. This wasn't so bad. You had forgotten about your doubts and instead focused on Haru. He somehow ended up being all you needed. You couldn't be sad around him. Not with that smile of his.
#x reader#fanfic#tokyo debunker#haru x reader#haru sagara#haru sagara x reader#tokyo debunker x reader
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"You used to smile more," Lamb says.
Narinder flicks a ear to dispel the flies and looks out at the fading sun. "I used to have things to smile about."
"Am I not a thing to smile about?" Lamb teases. Narinder huffs and hits them in the arm, rolling his eyes, lips quirking.
"No, not that," Lamb says, an odd note in their voice. Narinder looks over. "These smiles I know. Amused, fond small ones or half-smothered flustered ones, or smug, annoying smirks. But you used to smile big in the Gateway, remember?" They stretch their cheeks with two fingers pointedly. "All teeth!"
Narinder shrugs and turns back to the sky. "Used to."
A few beats pass. Then, in a smaller voice than Narinder has ever heard it, "Do I not make you happy?"
Narinder sighs and closes his eyes. He had guessed where the conversation was going to go, but it didn't make it any easier to navigate. "Lamb..."
"Do you not enjoy my gifts?" They demand. "My compliments, my offerings, my touch? I have tried everything, Narinder, everything. But no matter what I do, not once in three hundred springs have I gotten that same easy smile from you, my one."
"Well, demanding it isn't going to get you one," He snaps back, irritation rising.
"Well then, what is?" Lamb sits up, crossing their arms. "What can I do to make you happy, Narinder?"
"I am happy," Narinder protests.
"Are you?"
Narinder thins his lips. "I am content."
"But you're not happy," Lamb says, raw and miserable, pushing themselves up to look down at him. "I- I understand you didn't like me taking the crown, I know your pride was hurt, I know you don't like being mortal, but how long are you going to sulk over it?"
They've raised their voice by the end of the sentence, face screwed up in repressed anger, cruel in the way they spit out the accusation. Narinder vaguely feels a pang of hurt at their words, but also mostly feels a whole lot of nothing. Mild resignation, maybe.
"I mean, seriously, the other Bishops are in the same place as you, but I'm out here playing knucklebones and ring toss with my murderers, and I'm still stuck at square one with you? What the fuck, Narinder, what do you want me to do?"
"I don't know," He replies honestly. Even thinking about drudging up a smile, a fake one, makes him feel more tired than an entire month's labour ever had.
"Do you want the Red Crown, even now? Is that it? Then, here," Narinder's chest squeezes painfully at the inhale he takes when Lamb aggressively pulls the crown off their head and holds it out. "Take it. It's yours."
Narinder stares at them with wide eyes. Looks to the Crown, which looks just as taken aback as him, at the easy surrender. For a minute, fire itches behind his teeth, craving the familiar force of the Red Crown behind his movements and the joyful annihilation that came with it, the peaceful passing of souls he used to help with.
Then he remembers white, and looks away. Besides, the humiliation of being handed something won off him in fair laws out of pity was too much, even for his tattered dignity. "I do not want the crown, Lamb."
A surprised inhale. "So then what?" Their voice cracks. "What do I need to do to make you smile at me again?"
"Lamb-"
"I used to make you so happy," Lamb's voice breaks with tears. Narinder pushes himself upright in worry, painfully wondering how long they'd been holding this in. "I used to make you grin ear to ear just by being there, I used to make you laugh, you used to like my jokes and my songs and my stories and my antics, and now, even on our wedding renewals your eyes barely crinkle. What can I do, Narinder, to make you love me again?"
The wound in his chest pulses agonizingly. "I do love you, Lamb."
"How, if you're not even happy?" They demand, tears rolling down their face. "I miss you so much, Narinder, every day- because deny it or not, I remember what you were when we met, and I know i only hold a part of you now. I'm asking you again, how do I get the rest of you back?"
"I-" Narinder can't think of anything to say. Can't find the words to fix this, stop the tears.
Lamb's face falls as the silence stretches. They straighten up, out of reach. "I see."
Narinder grimaces and reaches out, missing as the other stands up and takes a step back. "Lamb."
"Never mind, then." They walk away, a hand to their face and shoulders shaking.
"LAMB!" He shouts, but they're already gone. Narinder groans and collapses back onto the grass, a hand over his eyes. He'll have to track them down later now.
How to tell them that he hadn't truly smiled since he'd fought with his siblings, all those centuries ago? That what they had seen was- sickness or madness or something, fuelled by the prospect of finally being free, of revenge, of a vessel he loved always so eager and excited to see him? That being happy was something that sat well on him, but joy had always taken over his mind and body and drove him to smile with too many teeth and burn those around him when it came?
That every time he felt happy enough to smile, all he could think of was the knife in his chest as his siblings clawed out his heart, and the axe in his ribs as the sheep he loved did the same thing again a thousand years later.
How to tell them that the only way he still could was if they weren't next to him to watch?
He knew Lamb would fall to pieces if he admitted that he thinks he could smile, had smiled, with people other than them. Their history had been messy and stained even when they first kissed, even before it had been subjected to the usual strain of a century-long relationship and Narinder had no intention of finding out whether this was the thing that finally did them in.
With a sigh, he lets go of the misery for now, resolving to find words to explain later. No need to borrow from future worries, as they say.
Still. Narinder holds a palm up against the sun, watching his fur turn brown at the edges, warming his bones. Away from others, from all the tumultuous relationships and bitter mistakes and traitorous loved ones, he smiles, properly, at the gentle light, gentle warmth. It was tiring, for the anger and shame to still have such a hold on him, after all these years.
Perhaps it was time to try harder. He had done so many impossible things in his life; how hard could loving without a heart be?
#bpd bf vs anxiety partner FIGHT#cult of the lamb#narinder#lamb#narinder x lamb#true devotion#my fic#OH YEAH ALSO. WHERE R MY NARINDER GOT HIS HEART RIPPED OUT TRUTHERS. DO NO EVIL!!!
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anyway anyone who thinks that blue is the poster boy for the "jerk rival" trope when silver is quite literally right there has clearly never paid any attention to any of blue's dialogue in the games, where there are Quite Literally Multiple Instances of blue giving red advice meant to aid him on his journey in the same way that many of the later friendly rivals and neighbors do, even if the tone of it isn't as sickeningly sweet as the later rivals are. blue literally, in the game, waited in the middle of silph co. to challenge red to a battle to make SURE he was ready to take on giovanni because he was worried about him. do some of you genuinely think that blue was so mean to red when they were eleven that red is like. still traumatized by it when they're in their twenties or something.
red and blue's whole journey is actually kind of hilarious because you have professor oak very clearly favoring red to the point where blue isn't even an afterthought and blue's clearly decided that he's sick of it and hates red now but he still shows up to give him advice and check on him to make sure he can actually handle fighting team rocket and whatnot. it's just a constant loop of "yo! red! crawl around in grassy areas to find more pokémon! go visit bill (who gives red the s.s. anne pass) and thank him for creating the P.C.! i waited here in silph co. for you because i knew you'd turn up! you collected all the badges, too? that's cool! i was looking forward to seeing you!" that he buries under another loop of eleven-year-old "I'M SO MUCH BETTER THAN YOU LOOK HOW COOL AND STRONG I AM" bullshit because again. he's just up and decided he hates red now because he's clearly & understandably jealous of all the attention professor oak is giving him ("you and your rival used to play nicely together when you were little, but lately, he has become mean." -> pokémon blue manual) but that doesn't change the fact that they've been friends since they were toddlers and that never once goes away no matter WHAT happens between them. do you think blue's phone call ("I'm Blue. Man, this guy called Red brought me down in a heartbeat. I haven't seen him in a long time...I wonder where he is and what he's up to… Come to think of it, you look a little bit like Red. Yeah, you do. Just...Just a little bit. Whatever...") came from nowhere. Do you think that isn't the sound of a fourteen-year-old missing his best friend. Grabbing you all by the shoulders here. Do you think they ever stopped being friends. If you answer wrong you get tossed into a volcano
#i don't know why i've gotten so fired up about blue these past few days but my god seeing the amount of people who make blue out to be worse#than he is..... Have you never been a jealous kid before. Did you even read some of what he was saying. This entire conflict is Oak's fault#and blue and red would literally get over it within the span of a minute after a round of 'sorry for being a jerk' 'sorry for disappearing#for three years' and then go take turns pushing each other off of ledges for shits and giggles#and then battling while concussed. they're friends. they've always been friends. that's the Point#anyway. ahem. glad to see them flourishing in bw2/sumo etc etc#rival blue#kanto
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hi!! fanfic writing person here again :D
i've been looking at a ton of stuff and first like. damn i didn't expect me headcanoning a character as transfem to lead me down a rabbit hole where i now 1. have loads of random knowledge on transfem issues and 2. have a massive amount of respect for transfem people and understanding of the differences in experience of different trans people. wonderful actually. your stuff has been super helpful tysm
actual question! how do i go about using femininity as a marker of transition without falling into gender roles? do you think that's disrespectful? because like. wearing makeup, 'feminine' clothes, that kind of thing-- functionally no bearing on someone's womanhood. but those are, to my understanding, big hallmarks of transfem experiences. i don't want to say that wearing makeup or a dress makes her suddenly feel wonderful and pretty and solves all her woes, but i also don't want to downplay the significance of that experience. ideally, how do you think those should be balanced? basically how do i make her feminine without it seeming like a certain level of femininity is required to be trans.
generally, are there any experiences you think would be helpful to know? i'm writing a lot about her (currently two fics on different effects of HRT as an adult, and two on her gender being affirmed as a teen when she had taken basically no steps in her transition) so any insight is helpful. ideally what would you want portrayed in a non-transfem author writing a trans girl? idk!
i understand that these are very big asks so once again don't feel pressured to reply-- thank you regardless! generally looking at your content as a trans woman has been super helpful so thank you so much for sharing <3 best wishes!
"how do i go about using femininity as a marker of transition without falling into gender roles?"
you cant! but why do you need to? a core part of the trans experience is experimenting with gender, stereotypical or not. so many trans fems (including myself) start off by leaning very hard into stereotypical femininity because they are things that many of us have not previously explored. and then a core part of that journey is learning that there is no right way to explore gender. i spent years leaning into being femme until i realized i was more comfortable with a little bit of fluidity and androgyny. i think the most authentic experience would be to have her explore femininity, stereotypical or not, and then eventually coming to terms with how she is a woman outside of stereotypical femininity.
two experiences that i think might be a good way to introduce this concept is one, the gender affirming experience of being included as one of the girls. there's a lot of nuance to that experience that people dont necessarily consider. there is the self doubt of, oh am i really one of the girls or are they just humoring me? and also for some there is the need to feel like they need to confirm to expectations of femininity, and leaning too hard into it.
second, the experience of experiencing misogny for the first time. i specifically say misogny because a lot of trans women have face homophobia and transphobia before they experience misogyny that validates them as a woman and for many people there can be this sudden awareness of how different the world is when you move through it as a woman. there is your typical run of the mill, this guy is a dick misogny but then there is also that experience of facing internalized misogny from other women. the experience of being told by cis women how to engage with femininity because a lot of cis women haven't deconstructed that for themselves is an experience that can be particularly hurtful because it is infantilization and misogny that is also incredibly invalidating.
third, when youre talking about gender affirming experiences from pre-transition, there's a lot of nuance to those experience because while they are gender affirming, there is confliction too. for some theres the question of why do i like this? and you also have to consider that many times those experiences that happen to a person who sees themselves as a boy. there is a level of separation from the experience because they havent necessarily embraced transness yet, and if they have, theres tentativeness because being in your teens is all about forming identity.
if you can capture these experiences in your writing, then fantastic! but also these are hard to capture because often times it takes lived experience to write it with nuance.
love these questions and happy to answer! good luck with your writing!
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thoughts after ep 27
back before arc #3 started, I made a post of theories and predictions and things, and I already referenced it once, but here I am to reference it again (you don't have to go back and read that post, I'll reiterate all the important info here)
the two big things I'll bring up here are the politics of destroying the station of the Witch of the World's Heart and the tense collaboration between Mirara and Indri (warning: idk how to shut up so this is a little long)
I understand where they (Ame, Suvi, and Eursulon) are coming at with the numbers angle, but back in ep 15, Mirara said that the coven can act without unanimity and Grandma Wren said that they may act as they see fit without her approval. So I'm not sure how strong that argument is gonna be on its own. There is a difference between unanimity and majority, but I think that they might need something else on top of the issue with odd/even members.
Also in ep 15, Grandma Wren said that "there will be tremendous repercussions if you insinuate that any of the other stations are not incredibly significant to the nature of magic itself" and in Ep20, Sly tells Ame that "one of your sisters is going to make the argument that your existence threatens the nature of magic in the world of Umora. And the only way—in the majority of cases where you win that argument, you win it because in order to get rid of your station, they would probably magically have to get rid of another." I think the key points of both of these statements in the tie to magic, as if the thing that makes getting rid of a station in the coven is some sort of magical law/rule and not just a logistical one. I know Brennan was almost leading them away from that conclusion, but I really feel like they were onto something with the idea of balance. Plus, we haven't seen any of the "tremendous repercussions" that Grandma Wren mentioned. Maybe the repercussions are just Ame gets to take someone else with her, or maybe it's a bit of etiquette that Ame doesn't know yet and they're playing off her ignorance, like maybe Ame is allowed to do something in response and she doesn't know she's granted any sort of special reaction.
I'm actually pleasantly surprised that my theory that Indri is working with the Man in Black (MiB) seems to be coming true. I felt a little like the Pepe Silvia meme when I was coming up with it.
We got confirmation that the MiB is under Mirara's station and I think that based on Indri was talking during their argument that they are probably working together against the wizards. And by the transitive property, we can guess that Indri and the MiB are also allies.
I theorized Indri might be working with the MiB because one of the other titles for him is the Pilgrim Under the Stars, which implies that he moves around like people, walking around on the ground (at least to me). In the last memory Ame has in Ep15, Grandma Wren says that "he has been moving upon our world in a way that I cannot quite see" which I think we all clocked, but she also stated explicitly that it's only been like this recently (to quote directly: "for some time now, since you were a very little girl, in fact"). It's possible that perhaps the reason this changed was because Indri had aligned herself with the MiB and was aiding him in moving in a way that is no longer under the stars.
I wonder if Grandma Wren had somehow clocked this because in Ep2, Brennan said that "she sort of had a relationship with [the stars], like someone who spent time in their company" so maybe that's how she knew something was up or wrong with them. I wonder if she asked Steele for a book (the one about stars of the southern sky that was sent with Suvi along with the shape-changer diagrams) that categorized the stars or just listed them in an effort to compare the information of what the sky used to look like or how these things used to work with how they may have been changed by either Indri or MiB.
Let me know what you guys think! Were you guys surprised by the Mirara/Indri alliance reveal? I was a little caught off guard ngl, even though I've suspected Indri of not being on Ame's side before we even met her lol
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With a bit of inference, Moth Flight’s Vision is an accidental tragedy about generational trauma.
Moth Flight’s Vision is a book which tries to justify the medicine cat abstinence rule, and it fails at this. This is mainly due to the exceptional circumstances Moth Flight was in when she gave up her kits. And obviously you have the fact she was a very young mother with four children in a time before a nursery system and when Moth Flight herself was also navigating being the first ever medicine cat. But I want to bring up another aspect of Moth Flight’s Vision that heavily influences our titular character’s decision to give up her children and bar all medicine cats from ever having mates or kits: Trauma.
And I want to stress that at no point so I think the Erins wanted to make this a story about trauma. But boy did they accidentally make a pretty compelling story about generational trauma. You need to squint a little though but trust me, it’s there. Accidentally put in the narrative like some of the best stuff in warrior cats often is.
So the trauma I am referring two comes from two cats in her life, her mother Wind Runner/ Windstar and her mate Micah.
So if we start with the former, Wind Runner at the start of Moth Flight’s Vision is very critical of Moth Flight. She has no patience for Moth Flight getting distracted and her lack of hunting skill, and voices how she dislikes Moth Flight’s lack of prey contribution to the clan, and frequently insults her and makes snide remarks to her. Such as you can see in just this one example.
All this leaves Moth Flight feeling inferior and feeling like she is wrong.
All this cumulates in an argument in which Wind Runner lists how irresponsible she believes Moth Flight to be tells Moth Flight she is a danger to her clan. And Moth Flight believes her, and runs away.
Now after this once Moth Flight returns as a medicine cat we don’t really get anything like this from Wind Runner again but the damage is done. Now here’s where the inference has to start coming in a bit. Who wouldn’t be left with a complex after this? Who wouldn’t be left with the need to prove themselves however they can? Moth Flight certainly sets out to please Wind Runner and prove she can be useful to her clan in the early part of the book when she’s receiving this abuse. So why would it just evaporate later when she actually finds something she’s good at and can be of great use to her clan doing? Just put a pin in that for a moment.
Also while we’re talking about Wind Runner; Moth Flight has a conversation with her dead siblings about how she wishes she could please Wind Runmer, which leads to her dead siblings saying that the reason Wind Runner is so harsh towards Moth Flight is because of the trauma she experienced when she lost her kits. Wind Runner’s trauma is ultimately what is causing her to inflict trauma onto Moth Flight.
And now we move onto the second inflicter of trauma in Moth Flight’s life: Micah. Don’t worry, unlike Wind Runner, Micah didn’t inflict any trauma on Moth Flight through his own actions. Unless you count dying in a tragic accident right in front of Moth Flight. In which case yeah, his actions did inflict trauma on her. At least it was an accident.
Micah’s death deeply traumatises Moth Flight. She cannot bear to be in WindClan due to it, she lives in ShadowClan for a moon, avoiding going home due to her grief, and then only travels back once she realises she is pregnant, and decides she wants to be with kin.
The stage is set. The Erins have a young cat set up about to have four kittens that she’s going to give away and change the medicine cat code forever. What they do not realise is that the trauma they have influenced on this character can most definitely be inferred to have an effect on her actions surrounding her children from this point forward, ultimately being perceived as a large push as to why she gives them up.
The book wants us to believe that she gives up her kittens because it is just inherently impossible to be a medicine cat and have mates and children. Which isn’t true as cats such as Leafpool and Yellowfang have since proven wrong. And obviously there are the exceptional circumstances Moth Flight herself has been subjected to during this period. But her trauma can also be perceived to pay a huge part in her feeling like she cannot balance her duties and her children.
To start off with. The first moon of her kits life is fine. Moth Flight steps back from medicine cat duties and lets the very knowledgeable Reed Tail take primary healer duties for the clan. The book skips over the first moon with her kits and therefore we can assume nothing important happens, and no issues come from Moth Flight raising her kits for this first moon. Moth Flight does reflect that how she did on occasion try and do checkups but her kits always called her away. And here, while Moth Flight is reflecting on this, we get this paragraph:
So here we learn two things:
She feels ready to stop having Reed Tail help her when her kits are a moon and a half (6 weeks) old.
Moth Flight does not want to let go of her kits for any amount of time. She equates Slate saying that she can leave the kits for short periods to them not having a mother figure in their lives. And she thinks her kits can only receive adequate love from her.
So with point 1, Moth Flight’s kittens are still little babies. And she feels that she should go back to being a full time medicine cat when they’re still that young despite having Reed Tail to hold the fort, and dismissing him as her helper entirely after this point. And here I’m going to bring back the idea of inference. I feel that this could stem from Wind Runner’s abuse at the start of the book. Wind Runner left her daughter feeling so compelled to be useful to her clan that she’s throwing herself back into her work far too early in order to keep her mother happy and be of use to the clan in the only way Moth Flight feels she can be. Is any of this written in the book? Hell no. But I feel that you can absolutely infer that Moth Flight’s drive to get back to work so soon is due to the lasting trauma and insecurities her mother had imposed on her.
Point 2 is a lot to unpack and here, and this is a point that comes up again, how Moth Flight feels compelled to take care of her kits personally rather than hand them off to babysitters due to their lack of a living father.
So if we use some of that inference here, we can infer that Micah’s death has left Moth Flight insecure about leaving her children alone. She feels that she is the only one who can properly take care of them in her clan. And, undoubtedly by accident, this idea comes back. There are two incidents with her leaving her kits to be babysat and irresponsible babysitting causes the kits to get hurt. The first is where she goes to a gathering and Rocky encourages three of the kits to climb a rock but tells the fourth she’s not ready. So the very next day she climbs the rock. She falls, she gets hurt. And not once does Moth Flight get angry at Rocky for encouraging her children to climb a big rock, oh no, she blames herself.
There isn’t one second where she thinks about how it’s Rocky’s fault this situation arose. She entirely blames herself for it, and the situation is never even discussed with Rocky.
And then something similar happens later on. Storm Pelt is supposed to be watching the kits while Moth Flight goes to RiverClan. And then all four kits end up following her and one of them falls in the river. She doesn’t blame Storm Pelt for any of this. She doesn’t have a single word of blame to say to him about him allowing all four of her children to follow her to RiverClan. And from that we can infer (even though again, the book doesn’t say) she feels the blame lies with herself. This inference can be strengthened given that this is the incident which causes her to feel she should give up her kits.
On top of her feeling wholly responsible for her kits at all times no matter who is looking after them, the main other way they distract her from her medicine cat duties is when she suddenly becomes paranoid that some horrible tragedy has befallen them while she isn’t watching them. And I think all of this paranoia and heightened sense of responsibility regarding her kits all comes down to Micah.
He died traumatically in front of her eyes. She feels extra protective of her children because they no longer have a father. And we can infer that her paranoia of them meeting a gruesome fate has come from her witnessing the painful death of her beloved Micah.
And where does this leave us? All this trauma stemming from both her mother and beloved? Well, Moth Flight decrees that medicine cats must not have mates or kits. She then inflicts trauma onto her own children by separating them and forcing them all to live apart. The trauma that Wind Runner and Moth Flight experienced can now be inferred to have trickled down to both Moth Flight’s kits, and many, many medicine cats for decades to come. The book wants you to believe this is because kits can distract from medicine cat duties, that they can pull a medicine cat away from important duties. But that only happens in Moth Flight’s Vision due to poor babysitters or mainly Moth Flight becoming paranoid that her kits are going to die horribly like their father once they’re out of her sight.
Is this all a stretch? Absolutely. I have no doubt this was absolutely not the intention of the Erins at all. But in the words of Todd Chavez:
Isn’t the point of art less what people put into it and more of what people get out of it?
And thats what I get out of Moth Flight’s Vision. A story about how tragic trauma can be, not only for an individual, but also for others if it becomes generational.
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i found a home in you (part one) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x f!Winchester!reader (SPN)
1...
rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz @deadgirlrin
AVAILABLE ON AO3
|| Crossover between TWD and SPN ||
Requested by @twostepandhalf
Summary: At the start of the apocalypse (one of many you'd been a part of), you and your brothers got separated. So, you roamed the new world on your own, searching for them. You just knew they were alive, so you kept yourself alive too. That and looking for them were your main priorities. Well, until you run into a group and meet a man you can't quite get out of your head.
TWs: cursing, anti-john winchester, lil bit of misogyny, injuries, blades, guns, threatening someone's life, all things TWD and SPN.
[[A/N: so this is my personal trifecta. I am in love with this concept. This is so exciting for me, it's all my favoritesssss. I hope the audience who will read this enjoys :))) ]]
Personally, you'd always thought if the world went to shit, you would be with your brothers. It just seemed natural, the three (recently four) of you against whatever monster of the week it was. You'd kind of gotten used to it, to them.
When you were growing up, John (he was never a Dad, especially not yours) dropped you off at Bobby's. Not in the every once in awhile way, like your brothers, he left you there. Something about you being a little girl, like he could condition Sam and Dean, but not you. Because you were a girl.
(Despite what John thought, Bobby did teach you the way of a hunter. After letting you be a kid, though.)
You saw your brothers a lot when you were young, mostly because John disappeared and would drop them off while he did... whatever the hell he did. Hunt, supposedly. And yeah, it got spotty when you were older, Sammy going to college, and Dean stuck to John's side.
But, then, the fateful day came.
"Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."
It all started from there, the three of you stuck like glue. You'd seen their highs and lows, and they had seen yours right back. Your group grew to include a few more faces, and then maybe it shrunk again because of... because people didn't last forever.
All that to say, when the world went to shit, you were with them. Always. Every time. (Even sometimes when they didn't want you to be.)
Except for now.
You'd gone out on a solo hunt. Maybe to clear your head? You couldn't remember. Sam and Dean didn't want you to go, but they were overprotective, big brothers, they never wanted you to go. You told them you'd be fine and would be back in a few weeks, at most.
Long story short, the world went to shit, and you were far away from the bunker. Far away from your brothers.
The thought of it all still made you sick to your stomach. At first, you thought you could make it back to the bunker -just kinda on instincts. Follow the road sort of thing.
And then, your car ran out of gas.
You liked to think that you'd know the land of one state from another, but after a few days of endless trees and the stretch of pavement, you realize that you 100% didn't.
So, your priorities shifted, and you readied up for the long haul. Because somewhere in your chest, you could tell this apocalypse might just be the one that sticks.
With your luck anyway.
You tugged on the thin tree branch, snapping it off the trunk. Your eyes skimmed across the sky, trying to track the sun -the hours of sunlight were important now. Sometimes you missed sleeping in though, you'll admit.
Letting out a long sigh, you gathered up your wood collection and shoved it into your backpack -one you'd spotted in a strip mall. Otherwise, you had your duffle, full of all the... other stuff. Hunting stuff.
Surprisingly, you didn't need a lot of it now. Just an old army knife, kept in your pocket was reminiscent of that life. Dean gave it to you, a long time ago.
Huddling into the little shack you'd found by the road (well, in between a shack and a barn really), you put them all down and pulled out some matches.
It was the hot, humid kind of season then, but still, the night got cold. And if there's one thing you couldn't handle right now, it was getting sick. So, you made a fire -despite the heat feeling a little like it was stuck to your skin. Like maybe you'd never wash it off.
You didn't really think you'd wash any of this off.
Satisfied with the fire, you pulled yourself against the worn wooden walls, tilting your chin up to the sky. Your eyes flicked across the rusted metal roof -eying the scratches and buffs. And with a breath, you closed your eyes for a second.
That was the thing, living in this new world, you were always on edge. Survival mode. Before with Sam and Dean, you had a safe place. Motels, the bunker, Baby. And even if you didn't have a roof over your head, you had them.
They wouldn't let anything hurt you, just like you wouldn't let anything hurt them. And it made you... Without them, it made you afraid. For the first time in a long time, you had no one to watch your back.
So, you lived everyday with heightened senses and numbness to everything that wasn't hunger. You actually don't think you've spoken in weeks, it was a little like you reverted. Like you were how humans were in the beginning, primitive, hunter-gatherers. The shit you see on the nature channel.
On that thought, you opened your eyes back up and pulled your backpack forward -digging through the pockets. Gnawing at your lip, you eyed your rations. It wasn't a lot, you'd probably have to be on the look for more soon. That, or you could spread what you did have over the next few days.
Without another thought, you pulled out a can and with the ease of a breath, pried it open. It was some sort of beans, you didn't really care at this point. Food was food.
Quietly, you ate.
Every time you did though, you missed Dean's food. When he'd cook for everybody. It wasn't just some can of beans-
You turned the can in your hands, eying the label. Not one you'd ever seen before, but yeah, some sort of beans. Baked beans. The kind of stuff you get at a barbecue. You could nearly hear the squeaky styrofoam plates and the smell of charcoal. (The whole thing sent something through you that felt a little like nostalgia and a little like grief.)
Briefly, you wondered if they were healthy. If Sam would tell you they weren't and try to convince you to eat something else. Maybe he'd even snatch them from you.
Would they have even left the bunker? Was that not the safest place in the world?
Well, by now, they would have. You'd been gone for months at this point. Or you think so anyway. (You had been counting, but just lost the point of it.) And realistically, they probably went out to look for you after maybe two weeks. If that.
God, you could imagine them now. Those pinched faces they get when they're worried, Dean ready to kill everything in his way, and Sam with his ever-present hope. You could really picture what Dean was probably saying at this point.
"We're in a damn zombie movie, Sammy!"
You laughed at that, swirling your spoon (you had a few) around your can.
Sometimes, if you focused hard enough, you could perfectly picture them. Dean nursing a beer, flicking through channels in his 'Dean-cave', Cas beside him (trying to follow along with his explanations), and Sam, with at least 5 books on the table in front of him, engrossed in whatever case he'd found.
That was the nice thing about the bunker, the quiet little things and at the same time the hum of people, of family.
You missed it now.
As you sat by your fire, in walls that weren't the bunker's, eating something that your brother hadn't made, you missed it.
#its griming time#stuff n' thangs#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes x y/n#rick grimes x you#rick grimes x y/n fanfiction#winchester!reader#rick grimes#dean winchester#sam winchester#spn#twd fanfiction#twd#i found a home in you#she/her reader
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Sorry if I'm requesting again and you can refuse to write this, I absolutely understand: Rhea and reader (not a wrestler) are best friends out of the ring and she notices reader's temperament started to change in cold and agressive and she realizes something is happening... Turns out reader is trying to fix her relationship with another woman she loves so much, but she became mad because of the love for her and Rhea is trying to make her see it isn't worth it...
Open your eyes, it's not worth it
General Masterlist | WWE Masterlist | Rhea Ripley Masterlist
Characters: Rhea Ripley, Reader
Prompt: Rhea and reader (not a wrestler) are best friends out of the ring and she notices reader's temperament started to change in cold and agressive and she realizes something is happening... Turns out reader is trying to fix her relationship with another woman she loves so much, but she became mad because of the love for her and Rhea is trying to make her see it isn't worth it...
AN: Always feel free to leave me some prompts, I'll gladly elaborate them! I hope I didn't overdo it with this fic.
If requested, I could do a second part, if anyone is interested.
To: Bestie
- Ehy, I'm back in town, do you want to go eat something together at our favorite restaurant? -
You look at the message Rhea has sent you, but put away your phone, as the woman you are in love with, is screaming at you.
You have done nothing wrong, at least this is what you think, but things with her are going down the abyss.
"Are you even listening to me? Or are you thinking about that wrestler... Your bestie?" She slams a hand on the table in front of you and you gasp out of fear.
"Please. Don't leave me... I love you so much, I... I can stop talking to her, if she is the problem." It hurts to say something like that, because Rhea has helped you many times ever since you know each other.
"You are spending more time with her or on the phone with her, than with me! Are you in love with her?" The other woman screams in your face, closing a hand to a fist.
"She is on the road most of the time, I'm not spending more time with her than with you." You close your eyes for a moment, screaming when you feel a hard slap on your cheeks. "What the...?" You stand up out of surprise, grabbing your purse. "There is nothing between me and Rhea, remember that!"
You go to the door and open it, slamming it hard behind you once you are out. You can't believe she slapped you: you had done nothing wrong. You get into the car and drive around without really knowing where to go, crying.
To: Bestie
- Yn? Is something wrong? -
You stop your car and settle your forehead against the steering wheel, taking out your phone. You dial Rhea's number, drying off your tears with the hem of your t-shirt.
Rhea answers immediately, still worried. Lately you have been giving her the cold shoulder, but you can't ignore her anymore, not right now at least.
"Yn please talk to me. What is wrong?" She can clearly hear you so and mutter something difficult to understand, before she speaks clearly.
"Your place? I'll explain there."
You manage to say, starting your car once again once she tells you yes. It takes you 15 minutes to get there, but you are relieved when you finally park in her driveway and you notice her out there, waiting for you.
A small smile appears on your lips and you get out of the car, crashing into her open arms to get a hug. Tears start to stream down your cheek once again, while you hide your face in her chest.
"I am sorry, Rhea..." You whisper as she gently pets your hair. "Sorry for disappearing like that. I have this woman I'm madly in love with, who is super jealous of you." You winced when Rhea caressed your offended cheek. "I tried to make her reason, to tell her that we are just besties, but she hasn't believed me. She..." You sigh heavily. "She slapped me before I ran away and came here."
"She did... What?" The only thing the Australian could focus on was the slap she mentioned. "Yn please... This is getting too dangerous and it is not worth it." She walks into the house still holding you tightly.
"But I love her so much..." You murmur, holding onto her t-shirt, looking up at her, who seems angry.
"Yn look at me." Her tone is stern, while she lifts your chin up to look at her, brushing a thumb over your aching cheek. "She shouldn't have slapped you in the first place. You don't deserve her, if she acts like this. I'm back for two entire weeks, with shows being not too far away from here. I got your back. But please... Do it for you, if you don't want to do it for me." She kisses your forehead and you start crying again, not sure what to do, but deep down you know Rhea is right.
#rhea ripley#rhea ripley x reader#rhea ripley imagine#mami rhea#wwe imagine#wwe fic#wwe fanfiction#ask me
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Okay so now do what you think will happen after Colin finds out about Lady Whistledown. 🙏
so i sat on this for a little bit because i didn't really know how to answer it but i was chatting with @gleefullypolin, while totally not talking about polin nonstop, no. talking very normally i assure you.
i'm going to put the rest under the cut because it might have spoilers or speculation that people don't want to see:
alright so we know when colin finds out about LW, right? and we know they have a fight. a big one. obviously.
i think colin has to have a regression of his character. he's only been vulnerable around one person so far this season. penelope. and he loves and adores her and she's going betray (hello eros and psyche!) his trust.
there is no love without trust.
there's something very interesting we noticed while chatting about colin and his bro friends. they've been there each time he makes a choice about penelope.
the first ball, he chooses her over them after they're like, "the featherington girl? why concern yourself with her?" but then he tries to take it somewhere private and she checks him hard and cracked his armor. she was not impressed with that version of him and he knew it.
and he definitely will when he learns she's LW if he wasn't aware before
when he's not near them, he chooses her without thinking about it, he runs out after her at a ball when gossip about them is pretty much being said to their faces. even at the first brothel scene, he tells them he's late but then we see him at the market waiting for penelope. this man is a fake and a liar and we see him, we know what he's about. nerd.
in episode 3, he's with them at the balloon thing and they're messing with him about helping penelope and he's so dumb because he's like "i'm done with all of that. it's good to back" all cocky and lame like he wasn't just eating the same cupcake thing she did and staring at her. i was a dramatic teenage girl who once had a crush on a guy who i only saw at lunch and never knew his name and even i wasn't down that bad. good lord. embarrassing.
not really i love it, i love him so much
but he picks penelope over them again when he runs off to save her from the big mean hot air balloon.
we see them again in episode 4, at the library while he watches penelope through a mirror. because that's definitely not crying, screaming, throwing up behavior. they invite him out. for revelry. regency bro speak for possible syphilis and liver disease, it's fine.
he can't get down with his ladies of choice because he's knee deep in wishing he was balls deep in penelope instead. he stares at a wall. they manage to make us feel bad for a man sitting in a brothel. amazing.
we see them at mondrich's. they're talking about girls they probably didn't actually sleep with. oh sure, totally buy that you had access to a woman for 6 months straight. you bet, my guy, totally believable. colin is unhappy. he's like don't you ever want to have a feeling? they're like, no, i just feel the syphilis. it burns, bridgerton. we need antibiotics.
antibiotics won't be a thing for like another 100 years give or take good luck i guess
but he stays and drinks. he's picked penelope but he can't have penelope at this moment. he's in bed laying there waiting to sleep. or die. idk. he's a bridgerton, they're dramatic.
he sees them one last time in episode 4. they stop him. they're dicks. rude to will on top of it? pls. they invite him out and he says no. he's picked penelope once more but he doesn't say anything but "excuse me" and pushes through. they don't push back. they're like, fine. more chronic liver failure and fake stories for us, bro.
he finds penelope. causes a huge social upset that no one pays attention to because he's too busy ragging on debling for having the audacity to leave penelope for years. which is fair. colin would never.
chases penelope. catches her. not quite balls deep but knuckles deep at minimum, let's be real.
which, i am very sorry for this being this long at this point, is why i think we could see his "friends" again before the end. he's going to go through something world shaking and they're always there when he's making a choice but i think what's important to note is that he always makes the right one, he always picks penelope. i think he's not fully dropped that armor and it's easy to slip back into someone pretending not to care, especially when you're hurting. he's got to reject the man society wants him to be and, essentially, be the man penelope needs him to be. she's his purpose.
eta: colin loves to be penelope's hero. i think he's going to feel that pull over whatever else is going on.
i'm just saying it's a mirror of how penelope needs to reconcile how she's both penelope and lady whistledown. they both need to come to terms with who they want to be moving forward. symbolism or some shit.
or i'm totally wrong and all those words above mean nothing. either way i got to avoid folding laundry. time well spent if you ask me.
#asks#anon#polin#bridgerton spoilers#bridgerton speculation#colin bridgerton#penelope featherington#colin's douche friends
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A/n:
Recently started watching House MD and instantly fell deep into the fandom. Please forgive any mistakes, might be ooc, I didn’t write anything in a very very long time! As well as this is my first time writing a Gregory House imagine! Not good at writing summaries!
Summery: Reader and House used to date, and like a little boy now that someone else has his toy he wants it back.
The door to her office slammed open, she didn’t bother raising her eyes, “Yes Gregory?”
Frowning, “You know I don’t appreciate being called like that.”
She smiled, lowered the file she was reading onto her desk, and placed her hands on it, “Ah. Just like you know I don’t appreciate people barging into my office like that.”
He pulled out the chair opposite of her and sat down, he put his legs on her desk and started to play with his cane.
“Nice bling.”
She sighed and lightly smacked his feet, not wanting to hurt him but signaling to take them off.
“Are congratulations in order?”
She stayed silent for another moment, he wasn’t done, she figured.
“Though I really don’t understand why you would do something so idioti-“ he didn’t disappoint.
“House. Say why you are wasting my time or get out.”
Putting his legs down, he sat up, “5-year-old girl, fever, loss of appetite, irritability, and shortness of breath.”
“Did you run an EKG?”
Hitting himself in the head with a fake gasp, “Why didn’t I think about that?”
She got up and walked around the desk to open the door for him.
“You don’t need my consult, you know what it is. I don’t know what the hell it is you want from me, but I want you to leave.” She told him before returning to her desk and resuming her paperwork.
She heard him get up and limp to the door, only looking up when she heard it close, but just to see he was still there, her door closed once again and he was leaning heavily on his cane and looked deep in thought, eyebrows scrunched together and knuckles almost white from his grip on his cane.
“So expect me to watch you walk down the aisle, wearing all white and what?”
She leaned back in her chair and quietly replied, “I’m not sure why you think you’re invited.”
His mouth opened slightly and his eyebrows raised to a shocked expression.
“My fiancé doesn’t want me to invite an ex to our wedding.”
“Who cares what he thinks?” He yelled.
Getting up and walking to stand in front of him, “I do! And frankly, I understand him. House, you want to be miserable, fine, have at it. But please, leave me out of it! I’m done with whatever this is!” She answered with her hands moving between them.
“I don’t think you can be more done with me than not even inviting me.”
“You broke up with me! Don’t you get it? How could I marry another man when you’re sitting right there? I’m marrying him and then I’m leaving the hospital.”
“Leaving me,” he added defeatedly.
She nodded and looked down. Not able to look at his blue eyes.
“Marry me instead.”
Her eyes shot up to him, shocked and so each speechless.
“You don’t want to leave the hospital, you love me, I love you, I’m an asshole and you could tell me that everyday for the rest of my miserable life. Please, be miserable with me.” He asked in a low voice, half jokingly.
Against her better judgment, as if forgetting the pain he put her through when he broke up with her because she got too close and he was too afraid of intimacy and letting anyone break his walls down, she took his scruffy cheeks in her soft palms, raised his head to lock their gazes and whispered, “I guess I am an idiot.” Before she placed her lips on his, kissing him passionately, feeling his salt and pepper beard scratch her chin in the best way possible.
#imagine#gregory house x reader#house md x reader#greg house#gregory house#house md#x reader#fanfiction#house imagine#Gregory House imagine
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hi the dumbass mxtx/danmei AU girl is back at it again!
Ok ok so Xie Lian fucking falls into a pit, hits his head and then wakes up as the stairsweeper guy and cang qiong mountain (he was mentioned once but he is loved by ME)
It would be Xie Lian x Shen Jiu because I am insane about them
I just think that so many cute shenanigans like imagine it. tsundere Shen Jiu plus that golden retriever ass stair sweeper that always smiles and says good morning to him.
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