#theory asks are fun they keep giving me something to talk about when i don't have other plans for the blog

[freedomfireflies]

Hers*

Summary: The fifth and final part to Mine*

Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has made you a deal.

Two for the price of one. He'll share you with Asher. For one night. And one night only.

And all you have to do? Be good and take it.

Word Count: 9.6k (...don't ask)

*Contains Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

“Easy, mama. Breathe. That’s it, that’s my girl. Relax for me, okay? Relax.”

Forcing a shaky breath through quivering lips, you do your best to oblige Harry’s request, allowing your muscles to uncoil as you settle before him.

“Good,” he hums, large palm smoothing across your hip. “Don’t want it to hurt, my love. Need you nice and loose for me.”

“I know,” you say, lashes fluttering shut. “I know, m’sorry.”

“Don’t have to be sorry, honey,” he reminds you, although there’s a hint of reprimand. “Just have to be relaxed.”

You nod again and unclench your fists from around the blanket. He’s doing his best to help you along, making sure to keep his touch light and comforting. And it’s something you thoroughly appreciate as he gingerly circles the tip of the plug around your hole.

“Talk to me,” he suddenly demands as he pulls the item away. “Tell me what you’re looking forward to about this weekend.”

He’s trying to distract you, and you smile as you glance toward the pillows at the head of the bed. “I’m excited to be with you,” you tell him honestly. “Both of you, but…especially you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you share before.”

“And you won’t again,” he snorts under his breath before you feel his puckered lips meet your ass cheek. It’s a quick peck, meant to encourage you, and your grin grows. “Lucky I’m even considering it this time.”

You turn to sneak a glance over your shoulder. “Why are you?”

He doesn’t meet your eye, instead keeping his focus on the task at hand. “Because I can tell it’s something you want. And I want to give you everything you ever want. Everything you deserve.”

Your heart jumps. “You think I deserve Asher?”

You smirk to show you’re teasing, and he chuckles to himself as he gently guides your thighs further apart. 

“I think you deserve the best,” Harry replies cooly. “Maybe that’s Asher, maybe it’s not. That’s why I want to be there. To find out.”

You run your tongue over your bottom lip. “Do you trust him?”

He looks up.

“I trust you,” he says softly. “I trust that if this is something you want…then you’ll enjoy it. And I trust that if at any point it’s not…you’ll tell me.”

“I will,” you agree quickly. “You know I will. But I don’t want you to do this just because of me. Not if it’s not something you actually want.”

“I want what you want,” he repeats, a bit firmer. “This time, that’s Asher. I’ve seen the way you are with him. And I’ve seen the way he is with you. The only thing I expect of him is that he takes care of you. Which he does. And as long as he continues to do so…I’ll continue to let him keep his heart inside of his body.”

You snort and glance back down at the mattress, readjusting your position. “I think you just like knowing how scared he is.”

You don’t have to see Harry to know he’s grinning. “It’s fun to watch him sweat.”

“You’re a horrible friend.”

“I’m not his friend. I’m his boss.”

“Well…you’re a horrible boss, then.”

“Considering all I’ve allowed him to see and do, I’d say I’m pretty generous.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to.”

“He did,” Harry says quickly. Confidently. “Believe me, honey. He wanted to. He told me.”

“He told you and you let him live? I’m shocked,” you tease, feigning a surprised gasp.

However, this earns you a gentle but loud smack to the ass as you chuckle.

“Watch it,” he warns. “Yes, I let him live. Because I knew he wasn’t a threat.”

“No?”

“No.” He squeezes your hip, calling your attention back as you look over your shoulder.

Your stomach flips when you see the somber expression on his face.

“You love me,” he says. Not a question. Not a theory. A statement. “He will never change that.”

“No,” you echo, and your answer overwhelms you. “No, never.”

He reaches around to take hold of your chin and give it a squeeze. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs. “I want to do this with you—with him—because it’ll make you happy. Because you deserve to be taken care of. And I know he’ll do it right.”

With that, he drags the tip of the plug down to the arousal already collecting between your thighs, effortlessly lubricating the small object as the question is put to bed.

You reel, gasping through a slack jaw as you steady yourself on your hands and knees.

“Remember what I said,” he reminds you, patting your hip softly. “Gotta relax for me.”

You nod quickly, silently commanding your body to comply, to unwind, to loosen.

And then…he dips down.

Spit dribbles from his lips, landing between your cheeks as you mewl and wiggle closer to the strange sensation.

He makes a noise—either of approval or disappointment, you aren’t sure—before his finger is diving through the pool of saliva and slipping inside.

He’s already been stretching you for the past few minutes, attempting to make this experience a bit more pleasant.

And you’re more than thankful for that now, lost in the feeling of your muscles being coaxed into submission, the feeling of your walls being pushed apart, the feeling of him.

His digit alone is such a fantastically full feeling, you know a cock will send you on a one-way ride to heaven.

“There she is,” he hums, seemingly proud of the way you’ve begun to unwind. “Feels good, hm?”

“Yes,” you breathe, practically pushing back into him. “Fuck—”

“Been a while, I know,” he remarks before he retracts his hand and brings the plug back. “Proud of you, mama.”

Your cheeks warm from the praise before allowing your body to fall quiet. Limbs going utterly still as you await the feeling of the toy, eyes falling down to the dark duvet beneath you.

There’s not much resistance, and you can’t feel too surprised. In fact, it’s quite the subtle but enjoyable feeling. Made even more pleasurable by the way Harry speaks to you.

“That’s my fucking girl,” he whispers, making sure to keep a steady pace. “Oh, honey. Look so pretty right now. Wish you could see how well your sweet little hole stretches for me.”

You bite back a moan. Clenching certainly won’t help, and you almost wonder if he’s trying to be lewd on purpose, just to test you.

Once it’s seated snugly within your ass, Harry hums again and presses his lips to the base of your spine. “There you go. How’s it feel?”

“Good,” you whisper, allowing for a moment to indulge in the sensation. “Full.”

“Yeah? Good,” he repeats, taking a handful of hip in each hand before pulling you back just to watch your cheeks spread. “Fucking hell, mama. Don’t know if I can wait till this evening.”

You smirk as you settle onto your heels, lacing your fingers through his. “Then don’t. Call him over now.”

“Wish I could,” he sighs as he walks around the bed to face you. “But I need to swing by the warehouse, and I need you somewhere safe.”

“And why again am I not safe here?”

“Told you,” he says, caressing your cheek with his palm before running a thumb down your lip. “This location could be compromised if something goes wrong. S’better to have you in a safe house while we have the meeting. And once it’s all over, we can come home.”

Home. A singular word filled with a lifetime of memories. You love the way he says it. Love the tenacious way he speaks about the shared space you both belong in. The place you yearn to come back to.

You press your mouth against his finger, kissing him gently. 

He smiles.

“Okay,” you agree. “As long as you’re not gone long.”

“Try not to be.”

“Promise?”

He frowns but there’s a hint of playful amusement within the firm expression. “You know how I feel about promises.”

“I know,” you reply, sneaking your hand around his wrist to keep him close. “But I need you to promise me anyway.”

He sighs. “Honey…”

“I need to hear you say it,” you insist softly. “I need to know you’ll come back to me.”

Now he understands, and his eyes fill with a desperate longing. “Always,” he nearly growls, using both palms to take hold of your face and bring you to him. “Fucking always, mama. Always come back to you.”

You smile as your nose brushes against his. “Promise?”

He exhales a deep breath, as if you’ve stolen the air right out of his lungs. “I promise.”

You kiss him. And you don’t let him go for quite some time, thankful to have him in this moment…and all the rest.

“But you have to promise me something, too,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your cheek.

“Yeah?”

He nods before that devious grin finds its way back. “Promise me…you won’t tell Asher about this little surprise until tonight,” he says, reaching down to smack his hand against your ass. “Think he deserves a little treat.”

And you can’t help but laugh as you agree. “I promise,” you vow before the sound of the door opening echoes throughout the apartment.

Asher announces his arrival as Harry helps you to your feet, making sure to keep you steady as you adjust to the newly acquired object.

“Get dressed,” he instructs softly before releasing you to walk toward the door. “He’s gonna take you to the safe house, and then I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay,” you reply, equally as quiet. “Har?”

He stops just before he’s completely disappeared into the hallway. “Hm?”

“I love you.”

He smiles, and it makes your heart sing.

“I love you, honey,” he calls back. “Now be good for me.”

You grin. “Yes, daddy.”

And he laughs. In that beautiful, symphonic way. It almost makes your chest ache as you watch him slip into the living room to debrief his right-hand man while you’re left to put your shorts back on.

Once you’re ready, you join the boys by the door, catching the tail end of their hushed conversation.

“—until tomorrow,” Harry is murmuring. “Unless we draw him out.”

“We will,” Asher replies, nodding once. “Matthews is a fucking idiot. He thinks he’s got a shot at infiltrating our system, he’s not gonna pass that up.”

“No,” Harry agrees. “Especially not after Sean—"

The muted discussion comes to an abrupt end when Harry’s eye catches you sneaking through the living room.

“Hi, sugar,” he calls, a bit louder than necessary, almost as if alerting Asher of your presence, too.

Asher turns, and when he sees you…he smiles.

“Hi,” you say back, nodding at the second-in-command.

“You ready?” Harry asks.

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure what to bring, but—”

“Asher’s got it,” Harry answers simply, shooting you a reassuring grin. “Don’t need to bring anything but that cute little ass.”

The teasing remark is a double-edged sword, and you and Harry exchange a smirk as your skin warms and Asher’s brow raises.

However, he doesn’t question it. “In that case…are you ready?”

You nod again. “I think. How far is it?”

“Couple hours,” Harry replies. “Just outside the city.”

“Is Paul coming?” 

“No.”

Your brow raises. “Okay…why?”

There’s a beat as Harry reaches into his suit jacket pocket to retrieve a cigarette and a match. “We’re not compromising your location,” he says as he places the filter between his lips and strikes the light. “S’better if fewer people know.”

“So, just you and Asher?”

“Mhm.” He inhales deeply before plucking the object between two fingers and pulling it free. “You’ll be safer that way.”

And despite how methodical he makes the whole affair sound, you know this is something he’s actively fighting himself on. 

He prioritizes you above all else, even when that means sending you two hours away so he can conduct a meeting with someone on the black market. 

But he hates it. You know he hates it. He absolutely cannot stand being away from you, especially in moments like this.

And he doesn’t want you to know just how weak you make him.

Fighting a gentle smirk, you stride toward him and snatch the cigarette from his grasp. 

He huffs as you smash the ashes against the wall, effectively putting out the light before tossing it into the trash can. 

“What have I told you about this?” you remind him, tone playful with just a hint of admonishment. 

He sighs, glancing down at the lost nicotine with a mournful frown. “Well, what else do you expect me to do?”

“I expect you…to kiss me,” you whisper as he drags his eyes back to you.

It doesn’t take much more for him to slip his fingers around the back of your neck and tug you to him, his mouth instantly colliding with yours.

It doesn’t matter that he’d already kissed you a mere ten minutes ago.

Because this kiss—and all of his kisses—are like snowflakes. Unique, and special, and one of a kind. 

It makes your stomach flip, and your head grow fuzzy, and your ears ring.

Because it’s never just a kiss.

It’s an unspoken vow of love and loyalty.

“I love you,” he whispers, soft enough that you imagine only you can hear.

You nod quickly as you press your lips into his bottom one. “I love you,” you repeat. “Don’t be stupid.”

He grins as he releases you. “Never.”

With that, you follow Asher out of the apartment, leaving Harry to finish a few things before heading to the warehouse. 

However, instead of Asher’s familiar car, you’re brought to a stop in front of a rather intimidating looking motorcycle.

“And what…is this?” you ask as he grabs a helmet off the handle.

He chuckles while outstretching it toward you. “What’s it look like, sweetheart?”

“You want to take this?” you nearly stammer, eyeing the dark black death machine. “What was wrong with your car?”

He lifts his shoulder in a casual shrug. “Not nearly as fun, now, is it?”

Your response is a flat expression, and he laughs again.

“There’s a higher chance of somebody recognizing my car,” he explains as he moves to swing his leg over the bike. “But they won’t recognize this.”

It’s an adequate justification you suppose. And you aren’t opposed to riding one. You and Harry used to ride together all the time back when you first met.

But never when you had a plug in.

Swallowing your nerves, you slip the helmet over your head as Asher starts the engine, his observant eyes flicking across the dash.

Straddling onto the back of the seat behind him, you watch while he revs the throttle, and props his foot up.

Then, he glances toward his shoulder. “You ready, sweetheart?”

You swallow, arms slipping around his dark black t-shirt. “Where’s your helmet?”

He smirks. “Only have the one. But I don’t need it. I’ll be fine.”

You can’t help the disapproving frown that forms. “Ash—”

“Don’t worry,” he insists, chuckling as he returns his attention forward. “Just hold on, yeah?”

With that, the bike jolts forward, and you cement yourself to his back as he swings a right and leads you both out of the parking lot.

He’s on the highway in twenty seconds flat, swaying from side to side as he slips between the cars. It’s one effortless, fluid motion that makes your heart drop to your stomach, but more than that…it’s exhilarating.

In fact, you don’t even have time to be anxious when each bump you hit and turn you make stimulates the small object beneath you.

And you’re trying not to let it affect you. Trying so hard to keep your focus on the two-hour ride you have ahead of you.

But then the tires will roll over a small rock, and your eyes will roll back in your head.

Your fingers dig into the fabric on Asher’s chest as you squeeze for dear life. And he glances back from time to time, just to make sure you’re all right.

But you’re not all right. And you won’t be until you take this damn thing out.

“You okay?” he yells once you’ve left the city.

You nod. “Yeah,” you call back, although your boa constrictor-like grip suggests otherwise. “Just peachy.”

You catch his smile before he gets off the exit and begins down a seemingly abandoned back road.

There’s still ninety minutes to go, so you will yourself to relax. To focus on anything else besides the throbbing between your legs. Or the position of your clit against the seat. Or the way your chest is pressed to Asher’s back.

But it seems as though the entire universe is working against you in this moment, and despite your best efforts, you find that you’re losing the game.

And when the bike rounds a particularly sharp corner, it all comes to a hilt.

A rather airy moan slips free as you scratch your nails down his chest, and you catch the way he sneaks a look back at you.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks again, seemingly unaware of the nature behind your noise.

However, speaking will only make things worse, so you nod mutely and pull your lip between your teeth.

This answer satiates him for a while longer before it happens again, and your whimpers become harder to hide.

He doesn’t question you this time around, but a quick glance over his profile proves that he’s beginning to understand why these noises are different.

And so familiar.

You’re thankful he doesn’t ask you to explain. That he doesn’t directly call out your subtle grinding or the desperate whines that dance through the wind and find him.

Instead, he carries on with the ride as though he hasn’t noticed, and this alone gives you the strength to keep your impending orgasm at bay.

After all, Harry would be quite disappointed to find out he’d missed such a sight.

And you don’t imagine starting off the evening with Harry’s disapproval will work in your favor.

The next hour feels like the slow crawl of death. The tortuous journey nearly dragging you to the finish line as Asher finally arrives at the gated building.

You just about moan with relief when he punches in the code, pulls into the parking lot, and brings the motorbike to a stop.

And the moment the engine is killed, you have to bite back a whine, thankful for the reprieve from the vibrations against your cunt.

Asher helps you stand to your feet before slipping the helmet off your head and placing it back on the handle.

You notice he’s smiling in that charming, boyish way. A look that you’re more than familiar with, and it instantly calms your remaining nerves as he leads you inside.

He spends the first few minutes surveying the premises. Checking each closet, door, and hallway for any security risks or planted bugs. He then radios Paul and instructs him to confirm to Harry that the location is secure.

Finally, once Asher is satisfied, he joins you in the living room, and returns his gun to his belt.

“How you feelin’?” he asks, perching on the edge of the seat just beside you.

You swallow thickly and squeeze your thighs a bit tighter together. “Hm? Oh, good. Yeah. Good. Better. Now that we’re…on the ground again.”

He exhales a gentle laugh, and you feel your cheeks fill with heat. “Yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay. It was…fun.”

His brow jumps up. “Yeah?”

Shit. You glance back down at your lap and nod once. “Mhm.”

Once again, he finds amusement through your timid behavior and lack of eye contact. But you can’t explain why, and you can’t exactly fight it. So, you surrender to the docile demeanor, keeping your focus on your cuticles as you wait for Harry to join you.

“Hey, Ash?” you venture after a moment, breaking the comfortable quiet.

His head turns to you.

“Are you…nervous? About tonight?” you begin hesitantly, letting yourself steal a glimpse of his quizzical expression. “I mean…is this something you really want to do? Or is Harry manhandling you into it?”

He laughs, and the warm sound echoes around the room. “Believe me, sweetheart. I am more than okay with it.”

You shift in your spot on the sofa, angling your body to fully face him. “Okay, but…are you sure? Just because he’s your boss doesn’t mean you have to do everything he says. He won’t kill you if you say no.”

He grins so big you can see his teeth. “That’s not why I agreed. I agreed because he was right. It’s my job to take care of you.”

You sigh, features playfully unamused. “I think this goes well beyond the specifications of your job description.”

“Maybe. But you’re his girl. And I’d do anything for either of you.”

“Even this?”

“Even this.”

“And it’s not…weird?”

“I don’t think so. Do you?”

You hesitate. “No…I’ve known you forever. I feel safe with you.”

“Good.” He seems genuinely pleased with this. “This isn’t about me, sweetheart. This is about you. About both of you. Harry likes an audience and I’m happy to give him one.”

You suppose this is true. You’ve always known this about your boyfriend and truth be told, you can’t imagine a better audience than Asher.

You spend the next half hour or so exchanging stories about the aforementioned man. The different moods he has, the different coping methods he’s developed, and even a few of his more taboo kinks.

Asher remarks on how different Harry was when he was younger, although he’s not surprised that this is the man he became. And he’s happy that you found each other. That you can be Harry’s light.

And you’re happy that Harry can be your darkness.

Not long after, the security system calls a shrill word of warning from its spot on the wall as Asher leaps to his feet and heads for the door.

He sneaks a hand behind his back, fingers curling on the base of the gun still hidden beneath his belt while cautiously approaching. Then, after a quick look over the monitor, he presses a button and instantly steps back to allow the door to swing open.

And in strides Harry.

He looks about the same as when you left him. He’s still donning his dark, matte suit. His hair is still perfectly displaced, and his skin is still thankfully free of any blood.

A good sign.

But everything else is off. His ordinarily indifferent expression has grown hard. Unforgiving. His jaw seems to be clenched so tight, you’re worried he might chip a tooth. The veins in his neck are corded and pushing against his skin, and even from the sofa, you can see there’s an emptiness in his eye.

Asher begins to frown. “What happened?”

Harry’s head shakes as he looks from his right-hand man to you. “Not now,” he says simply, voice dripping with malicious disdain. “I don’t want to think about it right now.”

Instead, he brushes past Asher and makes a beeline for you. And your heart flutters inside your chest as you look up at the tall man coming to a quick stop before you.  

He reaches out and snatches your chin in his palm, gently but firmly tugging you upright until he can connect his lips with yours.

This kiss is angry. Vindictive. Filled with remorse and malevolent indignation. It captures each desperate gasp for air, and he swallows your timid compliance mercilessly. 

When he feels generous enough to allow you a breath, you’re tucked beneath his arm while he presses his mouth against your temple.

“How was it?” he whispers, and there’s a certain strain to his inquisition that suggests he’s wrestling a larger demon within himself. 

You nod gently and let the smell of his familiar cologne envelope you—calm you. “It was good.”

“Yeah?” He looks to Asher. “No problems?”

“Not…exactly,” Asher replies, and you watch the corner of his mouth dance with the idea of smirking.

Harry’s eyebrow raises. “And what does that mean?”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly a problem,” Asher explains, letting his focus fall to you. “But I think she did have a bit of an interesting ride.”

Harry’s head rolls until he can look down at you. “Oh?”

Your skin warms under the heat of his gaze as you tangle your fingers into his nice shirt. “Couldn’t help it. Felt so good, Har.”

You watch as Harry’s calloused features dissolve into that of smug intrigue. “I bet it did, mama. Does he know why?”

The spotlight swings to Asher, who stands a few feet away, exceedingly curious.

Your lips roll into your mouth as you shake your head.

Harry smiles. “Then why don’t you show him?”

Eager to do just that, you stand back, and lace your fingers around the waistband of your shorts.

Slowly, you turn around, and begin shimmying the denim material down your thighs. Then, you continue to guide the pants down to your ankles, body bending until they reach the floor.

And the moment you’re bent over, you hear Asher curse.

He’s got a direct line of sight to the purple object Harry placed neatly between your ass. And now he understands why the ride on his motorcycle was so…stimulating for you. Why it had you whimpering in his ear as he rocked the bike from side to side while racing through the mountains.

And after you’ve stood back up and turned around, you can see exactly what this revelation does to him.

Harry chuckles underneath his breath as he slips his palm across your bare hip, guiding you back to him. “S’pretty, isn’t it?”

Asher swallows visibly before forcing a curt nod. “Mhm. Very.”

“All nice and stretched for you,” Harry murmurs before grinning down at your hopeful expression. “Aren’t you, honey? You ready to take him?”

You nearly mewl as you nod your enthusiastic agreement, once more grasping onto his shirt as if to plead with him.

“I know,” he coos, cupping your cheek in his palm. “Bet it’s been aching all day, hm? Know you’re so excited.”

And you are. You’ve never felt more infatuated with an idea, and the longer they take to ruin you, the worse the need gets.

“My sweet girl,” he whispers, guiding his thumb toward your lips before slipping it inside your mouth.

You suck, instantly calmed as you sweep your tongue around him, and allow yourself to settle.

“Gotta go over some rules first, yeah?” he says, a bit louder now so you both can hear.

Asher steps closer.

“One…this is about you, mama,” Harry begins, echoing Asher’s earlier sentiments. “We’re not here to hurt you, or punish you, or make you feel unsafe. Is that understood?”

You nod.

He pops his finger free just to take hold of your jaw. “Two…you use your words. Always. You tell us that you’re okay or if you need to stop. If you don’t, I end it.”

You nod again, but he frowns.

“Okay,” you agree verbally, and he hums. “I will.”

Pleased, he carries on. “Three…” He turns to Asher now. “You don’t come inside her. Not her ass. Not her throat. Nothing. You pull out, you get yourself off, and that’s it.”

For some reason, you almost feel embarrassed by the unrelenting and rather strict condition that Harry proposes.

But Asher merely replies, “Understood.”

“And you wear a condom,” Harry adds. “I won’t risk her health because of this. I don’t care if you’re clean, I don’t care if you’re gentle. The only one that gets to feel her is me.”

“Understood.”

Harry’s attention returns to you. “If at any point you want to stop, or you want him gone, or you feel unsure…you fucking tell me. I don’t care if we haven’t come. I don’t care if you think you need to make us happy, make us finish. You tell me. And we’ll talk about it.”

Another resolute rule. “I know, Har. I will. I promise.”

But he’s not finished. “And if you slip into your subspace, then I make the call. If I think you need to be through, then we’re through. And I don’t want any whining or begging. We stop, and that’s that.”

The anticipation just about kills you. Already, your eagerness to be put in these situations lures you into a submissive state of mind. Until everything whittles down to what he’s saying. What he’s offering.

“Okay,” you breathe, bouncing on the tips of your toes. “Okay, I swear.”

He studies you for a moment. Perhaps looking for any deception or perhaps he’s deciding if you’re truly hearing him.

But you know he’s just as keen as you are to begin, so he nods his approval before tapping his finger over your mouth once more.

“Good girl,” he hums. “Now…take my rings off for me.”

Your breath hitches as you step closer, instantly taking hold of his wrist to hold his hand where you need it.

And both men watch as you lick your tongue up his palm and right toward his middle digit.

Once you’ve reached the tip, you wrap your lips around him and move down, teeth gently grazing his skin as you go.

You vaguely catch his mumbled curse as you reach the delicate piece of jewelry. But you pay it no mind, instead keeping your focus on swirling your tongue around the ring before latching onto it and sucking it back up.

Once it’s off, he holds out his other hand, and you let it drop.

He smirks. “Good girl. Now the others.”

You move to the next one, repeating the pattern of pulling and guiding, all while making sure to put on a show.

You never once deviate your eyes from his, allowing him to see just how much you enjoy completing such a menial, borderline degrading task.

And you let him know just how much you love when he’s in charge.

It’s rare he offers to let you take the reins. But when he does, it’s still quite fun. After all, he thinks it’s cute when you’re his dominant and you think it’s cute that he pretends you actually are.

Once his fingers are ring free, he slips his palm around the back of your neck and gives it a squeeze. “Bedroom. Now.”

Slightly disappointed to steal yourself from him, you nod and begin for the room just off the hallway.

The boys follow a few feet behind, and you can hear their soft murmurings, but you don’t inquire to know the details. You imagine you’ll find out soon enough.

Once you’ve all gathered around the mattress, Harry takes your hand, brings your knuckles to his lips, and winks.

Your skin warms from the rather innocent display of affection before he’s leading you to the bed. You’re placed between his legs while he settles back against the headboard, and the moment you’re comfortable, his large hands curl around your thighs and drag them apart.

Then, Asher makes himself known, crawling into the newly made space until he can nestle down onto his stomach.

He takes hold of your hips, and with a little help from Harry, manages to lift you up so he can slip a pillow beneath your ass.

You swallow.

“It’s Asher’s turn to taste you,” Harry tells you simply, dipping down until his mouth can dance across your ear. “And I’m gonna be nice…and let him.”

You push yourself into Harry’s chest, head dropping onto his shoulder as you scratch your nails down his arms. You can’t find a response. Don’t really need one. You just need them.

Asher seems encouraged by your willing silence, smiling to himself as he scoots closer and smooths his touch up your legs.

“You ready, sweetheart?” His voice is calm. Reassuring. Familiar and all around safe. 

You nod before Harry pinches your thigh and reminds you of his rule. “Yes,” you say aloud. “Yes, I’m ready.”

You feel Harry smirk against your cheek.

With that, Asher dives forward. You weren’t sure how he would feel. You know how his fingers feel. Know his touch, and his voice, and the way he looks at you.

But this…this is new. Wonderful, and soft, and just a bit dangerous.

It’s even a bit messy. How could it not be with the way you’ve been drenched since the moment Harry put the plug in. Truth be told, you’re not sure the difference between your arousal and Asher’s contribution. 

Either way, his large tongue licks up your cunt like this is the first drink of water he’s had in years. Like you’re the only remedy to his deprivation. As if he knows this is the first and only time Harry will ever allow him to taste you.

 He indulges in you. Nips at you with the fervent desire to feast. To lick through you, to devour you, to savor everything you have to offer.

He’s relentless and yet patient. He takes his time because he knows you have more to give. Knows that you’re enjoying this as much as he is.

“Look at you, mama,” Harry whispers, his strong fingers pressing marks into your tender skin as he keeps you spread. “Fucking love this, don’t you?”

And you do, so you nod zealously, whimpering beneath a pained breath as you squirm between Harry’s legs.

“How does he feel, hm?” he asks next, running his nose along your temple. “S’he making you feel good, honey?”

Your answer comes in the form of a salacious moan, your jaw going slack as you suck in a sharp breath.

“Is that a yes?” Harry pushes. “’Cause if he’s not…I’ll put a fucking bullet through his head.”

And you can feel Asher curse against your pussy before he’s sucking your clit into his mouth, cheeks hollowing as you whine. 

The threat lingers for just a moment, met only with more needy whimpers, and lewd licks to your cunt. 

You don’t imagine Harry would ever follow through on such an ultimatum, but the look in Asher’s eye almost convinces you otherwise.

Harry’s decisions are rarely ever made through calm, sound logic. More often than not, his choices are the result of a short temper and lack of patience.

And you. Despite what he might tell you, you are the sole reason for his insanity. He will stop at nothing to keep you with him. Keep this little life you two have built.

And if Asher happened to compromise that…

You shiver from the very thought, and from the way your orgasm is beginning to unravel. 

“Are you close, sweet girl?” Harry murmurs, pulling you a bit wider. “Hm? Does it ache, baby? Need to let go? Need to come?”

You’re trying to nod, trying to breathe, trying to do anything but cry desperately as you writhe between his arms.

He only hums. “No.”

With that, Asher pops his mouth from your clit and straightens up, leaving your swollen, sensitive, and quite red cunt where he found it.

You wilt. Become absolutely unhinged as the loss of pleasure leaves you desolate and depraved. 

“Harry,” you nearly gasp, whining as you tug on his wrists.

“No,” he repeats calmly. “No, not gonna waste your first on him. Want your first around us, mama. Gonna be around our cocks, yeah?”

Truthfully, you want nothing else, and you just about purr as you murmur your agreement, and scoot back into his body.

He chuckles when he feels the way you’re trying to pull your legs from beneath his hands, clearly desperate for some sort of friction. And you hope he’ll have pity on you. At least let you find a bit of relief before you begin. 

However, he only smacks his large hand down your naked thigh in warning before you feel his mouth press to your cheek.

“No,” he repeats for a third time. “Enough. Told you to behave, didn’t I?”

You fight to catch your breath. “…yes.”

“So behave.”

God, you could just about come from his tone of voice alone. The angry and virile hiss that he only uses when he’s truly lost on you. In the need to own you, claim you, ruin you completely.

He smacks your leg again, albeit gentler this time around. “Up.”

A bit confused, you wearily push yourself onto your knees until you can straighten up and steal a glimpse of the man behind you.

He smirks when sees the confused expression on your face before jutting his chin toward his pants. “Take ‘em off.”

And you’re more than happy to oblige. So, while Asher stands from the bed and begins to strip himself of his own clothing, you get to work on Harry.

Shaky, excitable fingers move for the dark waistband around his hips. They pinch the zipper and drag it down before tugging on the material until it can slip down his legs.

You wiggle backward as you guide the pants off before tossing them aside to focus on his briefs.

And you just about drool when you get to see him. His strong, tan thighs. The muscles that quiver and dip as he scoots up. The way you can see the bulge straining against the fabric of his underwear as you greedily move closer.

The moment you make contact with the band, however, Harry snatches hold of your wrists to slow you down.

“Easy, mama,” he instructs softly, thumbs stroking across the joints of your hand. “You’re okay. Not nervous, are you?”

Having mistaken your trembling touch for unease, he attempts to pull you to him.

But you merely smile and shake your head. “No, I promise. I’m excited.”

“Are you sure?” His expression is quizzical. Scrutinizing. Looking to see if he needs to make a call you can’t make for yourself.

But you grin and surge forward, pressing your lips to his as he sighs. “Promise,” you repeat, using this distraction as an opportunity to rip his briefs down.

He hisses when his cocks comes free, forehead finding yours before he looks down to see it.

In fact, you both look, and you feel utterly mesmerized by the way it calls to you. The way it’s hard and ready to be touched.

All for you.

You’d take him into your mouth right now if that’s what he wanted but you know he wants to save each ounce of his pleasure for you.

So, you simply toss the underwear aside, and anxiously stare at his shirt.

This is what you’d like to rid him of next, but without his explicit instruction, you’re forced to wait. To stare at the black fabric until he realizes what it is you want.

And when he does, he smiles.

“All right,” he concedes, sitting up so you can peel it off. “Go ahead.”

You waste no more time, slipping your hands around the hem before pulling it up and over his head.

Now…you see him. All of him. Naked, and sculpted, and so goddamn beautiful. Your own work of art, right here in front of you, ready for the taking.

And you can’t wait to take him.

Now, the attention returns to you. You’re still in the oversized t-shirt you’d slipped on earlier, and while it’s quite comfortable, you know for Harry, this just won’t do.

So, he smooths his palms along your thighs, over your hips, and across your stomach before guiding the shirt up. 

You shiver with every brush of his skin against yours, and nearly whine when you feel his thumbs sweep just below the swell of your breasts.

But he doesn’t linger. Because of course he doesn’t. Instead, he plucks the material from your body, and tosses it onto the pile of clothes already gathering on the floor.

The bed dips, reminding you of your guest, and just before you can turn to see him, Harry grasps onto your jaw.

He keeps your focus on him, an emphatic frown sitting comfortably on his mouth. “Promise me.”

You hesitate, momentarily unsure what he means.

Then…you do. 

You squeeze his arm between both hands and smile gently. “I promise.”

And you’ve never seen him so happy.

A second body appears behind your own, a subtle warmth radiating from the soft skin as it ghosts across your back.

You quickly relax, already feeling safer from the way you’re sandwiched between the two men.

And Harry is pleased with this, letting his eyes flick to the second-in-command just over your shoulder. 

“Take it out,” he instructs before his hands move to your hips. “Gonna need to breathe, mama.”

 You nod as Harry pulls you over his lap, settling one knee on either side of his hips until you’re in the position to straddle him.

And Asher shuffles forward as well, kneeling between Harry’s bent legs while Harry scoots a bit further down until more of his back is on the mattress.

Then, you feel a set of fingers dance across your ass and toward the toy so snugly placed within. 

Your lashes flutter as Asher uses his other hand to sweep some of your hair over your right shoulder, allowing him a better view of your back.

“There you go,” he whispers encouragingly as he gets a grip on the plug. “Ready, sweetheart?”

You pull in a quick breath. “Yes.”

Harry smiles.

Without another thought, Asher begins to slide the object out of your tighter hole, agonizingly slow as Harry brings you toward his cock and pushes the head against you.

The dual sensation makes you stumble over a frantic gasp as you place your hands on Harry’s chest to brace yourself.

But this is only the beginning as Harry nudges himself through your soaked folds and toward where you drip for him.

Then…he thrusts up.

The moment his cock slips in, Asher completely removes the plug, leaving you empty and yet somehow full.

It’s confusing, and wonderful, and overwhelming. And you can’t seem to focus on any one thing as you hear the toy being tossed onto the mattress before Asher is bringing himself closer.

“Okay, honey, you all right?” Harry grits between clenched teeth, clearly fighting the urge to ram himself into you.

Or perhaps he’s merely fighting the sight of Asher pressing his chest to your shoulder blades.

Either way, you nod. “Yes, m’okay. Ready.”

“That’s our girl,” Harry breathes, and you hear Asher hum behind you. “Gonna have to relax for me, mama. If you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not gonna make it.”

You do your best to unclench. To mellow out, slacken the strain on your muscles. And it works, allowing Harry to push in a bit further as your chest just about caves in.

It’s enthralling, but it always is with him. And despite how well your body knows his cock, it continues to stretch for him, beckoning him in as he groans and digs his fingers into your thighs.

“There you go,” he murmurs, the muscles near the edge of his jaw twitching as he surges forward. “S’a good fucking girl. Taking me so well, sugar.”

You mewl as you wiggle over him, needing him to fill you all the way before you’ll feel fully satisfied.

And Asher attempts to help ease your neediness, familiar hands smoothing up your arms and toward your shoulders.

Then, he presses his lips to the side of your throat, and you just about collapse.

However, the moment your eyes roll back, Harry makes one final thrust, completely disappearing inside of you.

He curses as you whimper, a rather pathetic noise scraping from your throat as your head drops forward until your chin meets your chest.

“Fucking hell, mama,” he grunts, nails scratching patterns into your feverish skin. “Feel so good for me, sweet girl. You like sittin’ on my cock? Hm? Like getting to feel me in your tummy?”

But you can’t speak. Can’t. Your entire mouth has gone numb as Harry slowly begins to lift you back up just so he can thrust into you again.

“What a tight little pussy,” he seethes, the sound of him slipping through your arousal echoing throughout the air. “He’s gonna fucking love it, isn’t he? Gonna fucking love to feel you the way I do. Gonna make his fucking day.”

And almost as if to prove Harry’s point, you feel the head of Asher’s cock brush against your lower back until a sharp chill runs down your spine.

A thin layer of sweat has begun to coat your entire body as you impatiently wait for the second-in-command to join in. You know he won’t until Harry deems you ready, but you wish he’d just do it anyway.

It might be fun to see Harry mad.

Already, you feel that familiar tinge of pleasure making a home between your legs. It’s far too easy with the way you were edged earlier but now it just about ruins you.

“Okay,” Harry murmurs, his own chest rising and falling with quick breaths as he sheaths himself inside your cunt. “Okay, Ash, go. Go.”

And before you can even thirstily dwell on the implication of this permission, you feel another hand on your hip as the tip of Asher’s cock sweeps down your ass.

“Easy,” comes the sultry command of the man behind you. “I’ve got you, sweetheart, yeah? Just need you to breathe for me.”

“Okay,” you pant, head rolling back until it can settle into his shoulder.

He smiles against your cheek. “Doing so good. M’gonna go slow, okay?”

“Okay,” you repeat, eyes screwing shut from the lack of stimulation. 

You hear him pump himself a time or two, the sound of the lube he must have applied when you were focused on Harry making you whine. 

Then, you feel him pull your cheeks apart, and gingerly trail the tip of his cock between.

“Breathe,” Harry reminds you, straining to speak through his clenched jaw. “Make daddy happy, honey. Come on.”

So, you do. You suck in a greedy gasp for air, hold it in your lungs, and then release it back into the room. 

Pleased, Harry brings one hand to your chest, tweaking your nipple between his fingers, and right as he does, you feel Asher slip in.

Your mouth drops open, a frantic moan catching in your throat as you roll forward, nearly collapsing onto Harry’s chest.

But he catches you. They both do, quick to encourage you back upright so Asher can continue, and you feel your mind grow hazy.

“There she is,” Harry whispers, kneading your tit in his palm. “Shit, mama. M’so fucking proud of you. Look so pretty right now, taking him. Does it feel good? You feel okay?”

And you appreciate his concern more than anything in the world, your heart fluttering in your chest as you nod.

“Yes,” you whisper, an airy reply that’s almost lost beneath the sound of Asher’s forced exhale. “I’m okay. Promise.”

Harry releases your chest to press his hand to your cheek, thumb stroking just below your eye. “My precious girl. Knew you’d behave for us. Love getting to see you like this. All fucked out and happy. Are you happy, sugar?”

You are. So utterly and unconditionally happy right now that you feel tears spring to your lash line as you turn to press your mouth into Harry’s palm. 

He sighs at the feel of your kiss against his skin, but the tender moment between you is cut short when Asher finally pushes in to the hilt, forcing a surprised whimper.

The overwhelming feel of both men—both cocks—stretching you from the inside out is almost more than you can handle. Because it’s everything. Everywhere. All at once. You know them both in the most intimate of ways, and a mangled cry rips from your tongue as they offer you a moment to adjust.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Asher asks, nudging his nose beneath your jaw. You can hear how hard he’s trying not to groan—can feel the restraint he’s using to keep himself still.

It takes you a minute to find a response, nearly winded from the all-consuming rush of pleasure.

Then, Harry taps your cheek firmly, and moves his hand to your throat. “Speak, mama. You know the rule.”

“I’m…yes,” you huff, attempting to roll your hips. “Yes, please…please, Har. Need…need—”

You watch his eyes flick to Asher before he swallows thickly and nods once. “Okay. All right, we’ve got you.”

And so begins the soft but purposeful thrusts. 

They work in tandem, easing out of you slowly just to push back in, basking in the sound of your wetness dripping down their cocks, and the way your body tenses.

They speak in hushed but lustful tones. Their hands never leave you, their focus never leaves you. 

Asher commits to kissing along the slope of your shoulder while Harry obligates his attention to running his fingers down your skin. 

 He scratches, and pulls, and squeezes every inch of your body. And he watches you. Watches you with the kind of adoration that makes the coil nearly snap into a million irremediable pieces.

Suddenly, Harry reaches around your hip to grasp onto Asher’s wrist, and you watch with wide eyes as he brings the right-hand man’s palm to your stomach.

Then…he thrusts up.

“Feel that?” he just about growls, looking between you. “That’s how fucking deep I am. That’s how well she fucking takes me.”

The pressure of their touch against the bulge in your belly has the whines falling miserably from your mouth. A sound that mixes almost wickedly with Asher’s own animalistic grunts as Harry hisses between clenched teeth.

This is what seems to set them off. Their rhythm switches from slow and soft to hard and fast. Needing to feel the way your warmth completely and wholly clenches down.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart,” Asher grumbles, his chest knocking into your back with each snap of his hips. “You feel full? Feel good?”

“Yes,” you cry, nails scratching down Harry’s chest as you move in time with their pattern. “Please…don’t…don’t stop—”

“Never, baby,” Harry bites, driving in so deep, it almost hurts. “Fucking never stop. Give you everything—”

“Shit—”

“Can feel you, baby. Feel your little pussy squeezin’ me. You gonna come? Gonna come for us?”

“Yes…yes, yes—”

“Yeah? Go ahead, mama. Fucking come. Let him feel how fucking good you are to me. Let him know what it’s like to have you coming around his cock—”

You scream something akin to his name when it hits you, eyes rolling so far back, you see stars. 

You lose time. Lose everything, nearly lose consciousness. And they don’t stop. They fuck you through every second, and the sounds they make almost send you into a second.

You can’t differentiate between the two, but your ears fill with the melodic sound of whimpers and grunts of appreciation as they fuck themselves deeper. As they hit each spot so perfectly that it almost kills you. 

But Harry’s not through. He presses his fingers into your clit and chases after another orgasm. Pinching and pressing and rubbing until you’re attempting to squirm away from him, begging him to stop, to let you breathe.

Your cheeks are stained with ecstatic tears as you come undone for a second time, quicker but still blissfully euphoric. 

“Please, please, please,” you hear yourself whine, slumping forward as Asher wraps an arm around your middle to keep you upright. “Please…Har…please. Can’t…can’t…”

“Shh, you’re all right,” comes the distant but gentle sound of Harry’s voice, vaguely keeping you present as your mind attempts to float away. “So fucking proud of you, mama. M’not through with you yet.”

“Please…”

“Easy, honey. It’s okay. Just gonna play with you a little longer. You’ll let Daddy play you with your little clit, yeah?”

You nod mutely, humming to yourself as he pinches the sensitive nerves between the pads of his fingers. “Har…”

“I know,” he coos as Asher releases a deep breath in your ear. “Hurts, doesn’t it? All swollen, aren’t you?”

Again, you can do nothing but move your head up and down lazily as you lean back into Asher’s chest. 

“Gonna give me one more, baby,” Harry instructs, thrusts faltering the closer he nears his own release. “Just one fucking more, and Daddy will be so proud. Both be so proud of you.”

And that alone is enough to encourage your compliance, forcing the third to hit you fast like a runaway train before you can even see it coming.

You make it about halfway through the glaringly wonderful rush of endorphins when Harry is suddenly straightening up, placing a hand on Asher’s shoulder, and shoving him back.

Asher’s cock slips from your hole as he’s pushed away from you, leaving you to gasp. 

“No,” Harry seethes, shooting a malevolent and unyielding look toward his second-in-command. “You’re done. You fucking finish over there.”

You aren’t afforded the chance to understand just what’s occurred before Harry is settling back onto the bed and thrusting his hips upward.

His cock completely disappears inside your pussy, forcing a debauched sound to bleed from your mouth as he twitches and finally releases himself into you.

And it’s exactly like you remember. Warm, and good, and exciting. The look on his face as he fills you. The way his tan skin glistens with a sheen of sweat and the beautiful sounds that slip between his lips. 

You’d stay here a lifetime if you could.

Which seems to be his intention because even after he’s finished, he refuses to let you move. Instead wrapping his arms around you and tugging you into his chest, his chin meeting the top of your head. 

He keeps his cock warm inside you for quite some time. All throughout the sound of Asher pumping himself off until he comes over his hand and stomach.

Minutes pass until the room falls silent. Until you’ve all caught your breath and found your way back to the present.

Eventually, Harry shifts, and you can hear him murmur something to the man behind you. 

You don’t catch it through your hazy state of mind, but you feel comforted in hearing the familiar cadence of their voices.

You’re scooped up into a pair of arms and walked into another room. You blink the fog from your eyes as Asher flips on the shower and Harry places you back onto your feet.

You’re kept steady as you’re guided beneath the warm, gentle stream of water and you instantly nuzzle your face in Harry’s chest as he chuckles.

The two men dedicate their time to running some soap down your body, between your legs, along your back, and across your chest.

Harry is gentle when he massages the shampoo into your hair, despite the way you pout as you’re pulled from his body.

But the moment he’s finished, you bury yourself back into his arms, smiling to yourself when you feel his chest vibrate from laughter.

Asher and Harry continue their quiet conversation as they clean themselves. Still, you can’t quite decipher the distinct words or topic of conversation, but do manage to make out one exchange in particular:

“Are you sure?” Asher asks.

“Always,” Harry whispers. “We will always be hers.”

Once thoroughly bathed, they help you step out, and lead you back to the bedroom. Harry is there to put you in clean underwear and one of his shirts while Asher gathers his things and heads back to the living room to keep watch for the night.

“Sleepy girl,” Harry hums as he lays you onto the mattress before slipping in behind you. “M’so fucking proud of you, honey. Thank you for letting us make you feel good.”

And you giggle to yourself, confused as to why Harry would need to thank you for something like that. “Always.”

He chuckles as well.

Sometime in the night, long after you’ve fallen asleep, you feel a particular and familiar chill travel up your cunt and settle in your stomach. 

After shaking the sleep from your mind, you push up onto your elbows and glance down.

You see Harry’s tattooed arm peeking out from between the blankets, rolling and flexing in time with the blissfully sweet ministrations between your thighs. 

Then, you see Harry.

“Shh,” he whispers, leaning closer to press his lips to your jaw. “M’sorry, mama. But I need one more. Need your last one to belong to me.”

You smile as you nuzzle into him, nodding quickly in support. “Please, Har…”

“I know,” he replies, trailing his tongue down your neck. “Gonna make it better.”

With that, he takes his hand from your cunt only to wrap his fingers around the fabric of your underwear…and rip.

It snaps from your body as you gasp and instantly wiggly against the mattress, still sensitive from everything else before.

Then…he tosses it toward the shadows in the corner of the room.

Your eyes follow the lace as it’s flung through the air, choking on a whimper when you see a hand quickly outstretch to capture it.

Asher.

He’s sitting comfortably in a lounge chair, smirking at you both as you attempt to work out what you’re seeing. The soft light from the moon outside the window cascades across the side of his face. Just enough for you to make out his intrigued expression.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he calls, and the teasing but always caring sound of his voice makes you sigh contently.

“Hold these for me, yeah?” Harry instructs his partner, who nods and tucks the underwear into his fist.

Then, Harry’s attention returns to you.

“Think you can give me another?” he murmurs, grinning down at you with so much love, it makes your chest ache.

You shiver as the tips of his fingers return to your clit.

“Always.”

God, why do I love them??? Technically this is the end but I will be doing blurbs because I am needy and cannot let them go!!!

Thank you to everyone that's read and been so kind!!! I appreciate you so much!! As does Asher, who would not have had such an important role if it weren't for all of his fans!! 💞💞

Next Part:

~ Remedy* (A Mine Extra)

Previous Parts:

~ Mine* (Pt. 1)

~ Ours* (Pt. 2)

~ Yours* (Pt. 3)

~ Theirs* (Pt. 4)

~ Full Mine Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tag List:

@vamprry @acesofspadess @stylesfever @narry-heart @virqinvirgo @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses

#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles concept #harry styles smut #smut #harry styles fanfic #fan #fanfic #mafiarry #mafia!harry #harry styles mafia #harry and asher

[zoeykallus]

Hm? A note?

*opens the note and reads*

“I kindly request a Pheromones but with Tech with a mix of predator and prey into this nasty smut. But if you do not want to do this that is fine with me your majesty.”

Finally! Someone's asking me for unhinged Tech Smut 🔥🤩🔥🥵 I feel like I've waited for this one for years 😱

And I had so much trouble writing and editing my draft 😅😭 A lot of hours later: "I'm not happy with what I did here 😓

Warnings: SMUT/Sex Pollen Trope/Unhinged Tech/ Shy Tech Turning Feral/Dubious Consent(!11!1!!)/PiV/Oral/Groping/Biting/Pining/Pinning Down/Restraining/Plus Short Dirty Dream Sequence/Angsty/Creampie/Messy/Fluff (Believe it or not)18+

_____________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

_____________

>Master List<

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AC: This is very feral Tech, Reader is definitely having fun, but there are possible triggers, so mind the warnings!!! This one is dancing heavily on some very thin lines concerning consent and pleasure/pain. I wasn't even sure if I should post this. Guess there was a lot of pent-up smutty stuff left in my mind about this guy. Okay I tamed the original version down, a good bit, I think it was a tiny bit too much. But still, this is pretty messy.

Update: damn it, I changed this draft so often now, I don't know if it's still readable...

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Wrecker, who playfully bumps into his helmet, nearly knocks Tech off balance. Tech glares angrily at his brother through the lenses of his goggles, but finally sighs and turns back to his holopad. Again and again, his gaze sneaks from his holopad to you, watching Hunter talk to you. Today, you and Tech are to complete a mission, just the two of you. A more or less simple exploration tour. His heart beats faster just thinking about it. You've been traveling with CF99 for a while now, and Tech has had a crush on you practically since day one. You smell good, you're pretty, you're curious, and you always listen to him so intently. He's been blown away from the beginning by your little laugh, the smile, the way you talk, how your fingers move when you're lost in your thoughts. Tech takes in so many little things, by now he knows so much about you, so many wonderful little things that he admires, almost idolizes. But as straightforward and logical as Tech actually is, he can be just as shy.

He hardly dares to exchange a word with you that has nothing to do with work, he hardly dares to look you in the face. So often he has dreamed of you, of touching, kissing and even more, things that have done wild things to his mind and hormones. But he can't bring himself to do it, just doesn't dare touch you. So many times he had been close to just gently touching your hand, or sliding a little closer when you were sitting next to each other, but each time he has backed down. Tech wouldn't know how to deal with you, in theory he's already read everything there is to know about intimacy, romance and the like, but the practice is somehow so damn seductive but also so incredibly scary for him. What if you reject him? What if he kisses you, and it's bad? What if you feel nothing when he kisses you? What if his touches leave you cold? What if he does something wrong, scares you away, or leaves you unsatisfied? With all these questions, his guts tighten, and a heavy pressure builds on his chest. This is a challenge that can't necessarily be tackled with logic. Love doesn't really feel logical, but it feels intense, Tech thinks silently. Another light bump against Tech's helmet snaps him out of his thoughts.

"Cut it out, Wrecker!" "Come on, you two finally alone again? This time you have some guts!" the giant rumbles. Tech hastily glances over at you, but you're still engaged in conversation with Hunter, then he looks at Wrecker and nervously waves his holopad around. "Keep it down, Wrecker, she can't hear this!" he whispers energetically. Wrecker rolls his eyes and laughs softly, "You're way too nervous, I think she likes you a lot too" Tech pauses in his tense movement and asks, "Oh yeah, did she say anything?" "No, but that one particular smile, she only smiles at you like that". Tech's gaze darts back in your direction and that's when he sees it, that smile, his face gets all hot, and he hastily turns back to the holopad in his hands. "You're such an idiot," Wrecker grumbles, "She's smiling heavenly at you, and you're staring at your holopad" "Shut up, please, Wrecker," Tech says tensely.

The others are on their way, doing their jobs. Tech is finally alone with you. His knees are soft, he feels slightly shaky, and his pulse is permanently slightly elevated, but he's more in control than he suspected. Tech puts on the helmet he customized for you and says, "This helmet has an air filter, just like mine. We don't know what to expect yet, so we'll play it safe." He explains as you look at him questioningly through the visor. He can't really see your face, but he always senses when you look at him. Actually he is annoyed about the helmet, just because he can't see your beautiful face, but Tech also wants to protect you and when you are moving among unknown flora and fauna, this helmet is actually indispensable. "Okay," you say, groping for the helmet with both hands, an unfamiliar feeling. "Don't take the helmet off outside, please," Tech says gently but firmly, "We don't know much about the plants and animals in the area yet" You give him a thumbs up and say, "Okay, got it. We're good to go as far as I'm concerned" Along the way, you carefully take some samples of various plants, take holo-images of the environment, and look at various species of animals from a safe distance. You listen with fascination as Tech comments on some of your observations. It's so nice to spend time alone with him, you like the way he looks out for you.

You discover a cave that is riddled with glowing crystals and mushrooms. You put on your gloves because Tech told you to. "We'd better not touch anything with our bare hands for now," he notes. You nod and reply, "Sounds reasonable." With a gloved finger, you poke a neon-red glowing, thick mushroom, which then begins to blink and emit a thin cloud of spores. Tech leans over and says, "See, this is why we have the helmets, we don't know what these spores might do, hallucinations, fevers, toxic reactions..." You nod and say still intrigued, "It's blinking, like an alarm light" "Indeed" Tech looks at his watch and says, "We've been walking for a few hours, maybe we should head back" With a nod, you agree and follow him out of the cave.

Something is wrong, he is way too warm, the outside temperatures are not that high, but his body temperature seems to keep rising. He feels strange, maybe Wrecker knocked his helmet a few too many times, maybe his filter wasn't working properly. Tech quickened his steps, and you tried to keep up with him in surprise. Arriving at the Marauder, Tech takes off his helmet, and you can tell something is wrong, the expression on his face, that slightly glazed look. "Are you okay?" "I don't know," Tech admits, "I'm very warm, and I have a headache." He blinks in surprise as you start to help him take off his gear, but he allows it to happen, he also lets you push him into his bunk and tuck him in. "You must be overworked," you say gently, "You're always working, around the clock. At some point, your body just can't keep up with your mind, Tech." He blinks, accepts the water you brought him, and says, "Maybe you're right." He likes the way you take care of him, fluffing his pillow, covering him up, bringing him water and putting a cool, damp cloth on his forehead. He feels miserable right now, but he literally melts at every little thing you do for him.

"I'm sure a few hours of sleep will do you good," you say with conviction and a soft smile. Tech looks at you from wide, glassy eyes, he gets lost in that smile of yours, and before he can pull himself together he says, "Can you stay here, with me?" "Oh," you say in surprise, "Sure." You lie down in the bunk across from his, barely two steps away from him. Tech turns to the side, so he can look at you. You say with a smile, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you". Tech's ears turn red as he smiles back. At a certain point, you both fall asleep.

His dreams are wild, very wild, much wilder than usual. Intimate dreams are not unknown to him, but this one is very intense. He watches you suck him while his hands on the back of your head give you a wild pace, shortly after he pins you to the floor and plows his hard cock through your pussy while you gasp, sigh, moan and whimper under him. Then he spins you around and shoves his length into the tight little hole between your buns, taking you so fast and hard that the clash of bare skin, echoes loudly off the walls. His hand is in your hair, pulling at it as he thrusts ever more savagely into the tightness of your butt. Tech tears open his eyes, feeling even hotter than before, his thoughts a wild jumble of sexual acts. His cock pulses hard under his blacks, almost painfully. Everything inside him burns and screams to grab you, to take you, to taste you, to fuck you. He moans softly and wipes his forehead, a very small part of him knowing that he's thinking and intending very naughty things right now, that he actually needs to pull himself together. But this small part is lost in the wild, feverish racket of his suddenly felt hundredfold intensified sexual desires.

He is so tense with horniness that a slight tremor goes through his body. He looks over at you, you are still asleep, you are still alone and will probably be for a while. Automatically, almost of his own accord, he takes off his blacks. He looks down at himself, he doesn't see much, it's still dark, but his cock is clearly standing at full size. Against all reason that tries to survive somewhere under the wild chaos of sex thoughts, he walks over to the bunk you are lying in. In between he hesitates, this little part of him is only small, but stubborn. "You can't do that, it's indecent, you'll scare her... it's wrong..." he whispers to himself, and yet he keeps coming closer to you.

You feel someone climb into your bunk or sit on the edge and slowly awaken from your slumber. Your eyes do not immediately adjust to the darkness. You blink, there is someone, in your bunk, you are uncovered and that someone is bent over you. "Tech? Is that you?" you ask, confused and not yet in your right mind. Your fingers grope for the nightlight and turn it on. It's not particularly bright, but enough to clearly see the naked Tech kneeling above you on your bunk. Your gaze lingers briefly on his hard length, thick, long, gently curved, the tip slightly red and swollen, a trickle of precum on the small slit. You look up at him, startled. "What's going on here?" you ask, perplexed, completely bewildered by the unexpected situation. He's not touching you yet, but you can still feel his body heat already. "Tech, you must have a fever- wait what are you doing!" Ignoring your words, Tech reaches under your sleep shirt for the waistband of your panties and sets about pulling them down. "Need you, need to smell you, taste you, feel you," he stammers as if delirious with fever.

When you automatically grab his hands in surprise to stop him, he fends you off and tugs impatiently at the fabric until it tears. You let out a startled little scream as he rips the fabric from your body, and right after that, impatiently, your sleep shirt. His eyes get even bigger behind the lenses as he sees you naked in front of him. "Tech, what are you doing....?" you ask quietly. He grabs your wrists, rips a strip off the sheet and goes to tie your hands together, but you fidget and stubbornly resist. He grabs your hands and pins them down, glaring at you impatiently. "Tech, what the fuck!" "Need you, need you to comply," he says hoarsely. "I don't understand," you say quietly. He looks at you, feverish, almost desperate, "I need to taste you and smell you and feel you, I need to have you!"

His words make you nervous, it doesn't sound like him at all, neither the pitch nor the way he said them.

Tech smells your hair and shivers, as do you. You feel his legs pushing your thighs apart, his pelvis thrusting between them and his cock pressing down on your pubic, rubbing against it. You let out a small surprised moan as the friction drives heat and wetness into your pussy.

He moans softly and repeats, "I need you." You've been into Tech for a while, but this wasn't really Tech, was it? Again he tries to bind your wrists, this time he's faster, and a little rougher, overpowering your flagging resistance and finally tying them to the headboard of the bunk. Your pulse races, your heart hammers in your chest. A startled, surprised squeak comes from your lips as he presses up against you, and dig his teeth into your shoulder, not hard enough to really hurt you, but hard enough to leave pressure marks. He licks over the spot, kissing it as his hands travel down your body. You're hot and cold, thoroughly aroused, but this seems so foreign. His body is burning hot, you are sure he has a fever. You want to tell him that he needs a doctor, but at the same moment his mouth moves to your breasts, and he begins to lick and suck your nipples, his long fingers greedily embracing the soft flesh. Your head is swept clean. You loll under him, sighing softly, he presses his lap into the mattress as he moves down your body, a low rumble coming from his chest as he sucks your nipples and rubs against your body.

Suddenly he rises, kneeling higher over you, his hard cock hovering just in front of your mouth. You blink and look past his hard length up into his face. His hand roughly grips your chin, pushing it higher, then he demands, "Open." Nervously, you open your lips as he finally presses his tip against them, letting him in. Your tongue automatically presses against the underside. You see him shiver, and hear him moan. Admittedly a nice feeling and a delightful sight. But Tech is under pressure, under fire. He grips your head and pushes further until you gag and your eyes tear as he fucks your mouth. His whole body trembles with tension. You stare up at him, having no idea how long you can keep this up or what to do when you can't anymore. But it doesn't take long, you feel him throbbing in your mouth, Tech moans out, then his semen shoots down your throat and mouth. You swallow in surprise as best you can. There's quite a bit. He pulls his cock out of your mouth again. Some of his semen trickles down your chin, but you can't wipe it away because of your bound hands. He keeps moving, his lips and tongue roaming from your breasts down, over your belly, faster and faster, as if they're impatient.

You start breathing faster the closer he gets to the heated triangle between your thighs.

There is something tugging at you, a craving, a want, something you didn't know before you had. It's weird, all of this, yet you feel you want this, you want him.

Then he's finally there, you hear him take a deep breath, feel him shakily expel the air on your wet folds. While you're still shuddering from the soft draft, his mouth is suddenly on your pussy, his tongue heatedly exploring your folds. A surprised squeak escapes you, followed by a gasp as his tongue glides over your pearl, repeating the motion several times in quicker succession. You have no idea how he does it, but his tongue is so nimble and strong, getting wilder and wilder. Your thighs tremble around his head, the gasps from your throat become faster and faster, mixing with hoarse moans. Tirelessly, his tongue flicks over your swollen, pulsating clit, again and again and again. You mewl in arousal, stir in your bonds. The feeling of his soft, wet tongue dancing on your sweet spot, that bundle of nerves is delicious.

He's rutting his cock into the mattress while he licks and sucks your clit, moaning as he does so, humming, muffled by your pussy where you very clearly feel the vibration, an added stimulus. You don't know what's gotten into him, at the moment you can't get a clear thought either. But somewhere in the back of your mind, you think back to the red glowing mushroom in the cave.

No matter how surprised and overwhelmed you are right now, you are also incredibly horny. Your abdomen trembles, your thighs quiver, the tension, the tingling and pulsating is heading towards a climax.

Tech's tongue gets faster, flicks your little clit in rapid fashion. Your abdomen tenses, your walls clench around nothing.

You almost cry out as you tip over the edge into your climax. Tech continues to lick your clit, a little too long, you become hypersensitive, and you jerk under his touch, but his hands grab your hips hard and hold you in place, pushing you into the sheets. He's still rutting his cock into the pad of the bunk, and his tongue finds your dripping opening. A little cry comes over your lips as Tech slips his tongue between your slick walls and wiggles around inside, starting to lick you out like you're candy. He's greedy, and intense and he's making a mess. "TECH!" He growls, not a word, not really a response, just a growl. His nose keeps pressing against your hypersensitive pearl, but every twitch of yours is held in check by his hard grip. "This is too much, Tech, too much!" You see him twitch, another growl, he rolls his glassy, reddened eyes back for a moment. You realize he's cumming in the sheets.

He finally lets go of you for a moment, sits up, somewhat breathlessly wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand and forearm, wipes away your juices and his saliva. His sweaty chest rises and falls heavyly. Tech still looks feverish, his eyes still wild and without focus. "Not enough," he says, slightly hoarse, smoky, "More!" You see that his length is still hard and erect. Then you see his gaze fall between your legs, you automatically want to close your thighs, you don't really want any more over-stimulation, but he pushes himself in between. Automatically, you want to use your hands, but they are still tied to the head of the bunk. Tech lies above you, pressed against you, his body still glowing hot. He seems to be wrestling with himself, hesitating, but only briefly. In the next moment, he has brought his tip to your hole and is penetrating you, parting your moist folds and plunging deep inside you. He's quite long and thick, you feel him stretching and filling you. "Fuck," you curse softly.

It hurts a little, but somehow it also feels so damn good. He's leaning on his hands, hovering half above you, his cock deep inside you. Sweat is on his forehead, his muscles are shaking, his reddened eyes keep blinking. He looks strained. You realize he's trying to hold back right now, but barely managing it.

This is not your sweet and shy Tech.

He starts to move, dragging his cock a bit out of your sensitive entrance, and right after that he pushes forward into you again. Slowly at first, but he gets faster and faster. He half sits up, pulling you to a different angle as he does so he can push deeper inside you. Tech moans, gasps, makes little sounds you've never heard before, every now, and then he stammers words you don't understand. His hips move faster and faster, the sound of naked skin meeting naked skin fills the room. You didn't expect it, but your arousal picks up again and as if Tech sensed it, a hand moves between you and his fingertips, deftly find your pearl. A hoarse sound passes your lips as his cock inside you, as well as his fingers on your clit, speeds up. As if of their own accord, your legs close around his hips as your thighs begin to tremble.

His name comes moaning over your lips, again and again. He stares at you, but his eyes are still so glazed and wild that you don't know if he's really looking at you. A shudder goes through his body, a twitch, then he growls softly, you feel his cock twitch and pulse in your cleft, his warm seed filling your pussy. Every other thrust, accompanied by a squelching sound. Shortly after, the knot in your abdomen loosens, tingling all the way to the tips of your toes. But Tech doesn't stop, he's still hard, thrusting into your pussy filled with his seed. "More," you hear him say in a shaky voice. You moan, "Tech, I can't take anymore." You don't know if he really understood you, perceived the words, but he pulls his cock out of your pussy with a wet smacking sound, grabs your hips and turns you onto your stomach. Your heart races, you're not sure what he's up to. His length is still full of his juices and yours as he pushes it lengthwise between your buns. His hands grip your buns pretty hard and squeeze them together as he begins to rub his cock in the crease between them.

He moans, gasps and trembles. You are glad that he has refrained from sticking it in your ass. Without preparation, that would have been very unpleasant. Tech rubs himself against your buns, panting, trembling. He suddenly slows down, then you feel his warm load splashing on your buns and your back. By now you are full of his cum, in and on you, even the bunk is full of it, everything is sticky. Tech, of all people, who is very conscious of his hygiene, has made this mess. His breath is getting shaky, you hear it, feel his cock finally softening on your buns. "Oh maker... oh no... oh hells no...", you hear him whisper, in his tone a desperation that is hard to overhear. You pull at your bonds and say as calmly as you can, "Please, Tech, untie me." "Oh my goodness, of course, right now.... I'm so sorry... really so sorry..." he continues to stammer and with trembling hands he loosens your bonds. Finally, you can sit up, turn around and look at him. His eyes are back to normal, no longer glassy, nor reddened, but his cheeks and ears are red, and the expression on his face completely desperate and ashamed. He hastily grabs a pillow to cover his crotch as you look at him.

"I'm so sorry," he says softly, almost whispering, barely managing to look at you, his gaze jerking away again and again, "I felt everything, perceived everything, but it was like my body was just a doll, controlled by overwhelming sexual desire...my mind had no control." "I figured something wasn't normal," you say dryly, looking down at yourself, "I'm all sticky," you grumble softly. "Oh maker, please don't hate me now, I couldn't stand that" he says, ducking his head. You laugh softly and say, "I'm never touching any mushrooms near you again". He doesn't feel like laughing, and your attempt to loosen him up unfortunately fails. You say softly, "Tech, well, before all this happened, you and I really liked each other, didn't we? I mean, we were just a little too shy to interact more." Tech blinks and lifts his eyes after all. His cheeks are flushed as he clears his throat and says meekly, "I've been in love with you for a long time, if that's what you mean." You feel heat rising in your cheeks and your heart beating faster. "Yeah, that's what I meant" you say nodding "The feeling was mutual by the way". Tech's eyes grow wide behind his goggles, but then he lowers his gaze again. "I guess I ruined that now".

"No," you contradict him, "you didn't. The fungus has twisted your senses, or whatever you want to call it. Nothing is broken because of it yet." Cautiously, Tech raises his eyes again. "I'd like to make you a proposition," you say softly as he looks at you. Tech nods and says, "I'm all ears." "You and I are going to take a shower together, nice and relaxed. We'll wash, maybe each other, some tender touches, no pressure, no expectation, just enjoy each other's closeness. Some tenderness after this, little disaster?" Tech blinks several times and asks, "You would still let me touch you?" You nod and admit, "It's not like I wasn't having fun at all. Besides, that wasn't really you, but I'd still like to get to know the real Tech better." Tech smiles, stands up and after a moment's hesitation, puts away the pillow he was covering his crotch with. He takes your hand and helps you out of the sticky bunk.

Under the warm stream of water of the shower, you both slowly relax, Tech letting his tension escape with a sigh and smiling at you as you look over your shoulder while he gently washes your back. Tech says tenderly, "You're gorgeous, by the way". Your ears get all hot and a tingle spreads through your stomach as you say, "You're not bad yourself, handsome" Suddenly you hear voices, the boys must be back from their errands. Then you hear a curse and Crosshair yelling loudly, "WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BUNK!!!" You look up with a soft, "Uh oh," at Tech who then whispers, "Oh. That's probably bad." "He's going to kill us," you say, biting your lower lip suppressing a grin, "We really made a hell of a mess." "Indeed," Tech says dryly, "I'd say we stay in here for now until he calms down." "That could take a long time" Tech smiles mischievously, "I don't mind"

@rintheemolion

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#star wars #tbb #the bad batch #clone force 99 #sw tbb #tech #tbb tech #bad batch tech #clone trooper tech #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #tech x you #the bad batch tech #clone trooper tech x reader #tech bad batch #tech tbb #tech the bad batch #tech smut #smut #suggestive #dub-con #dub con #pollen

[thedrarrylibrarian]

hi!! I first off wanted to say THANK YOUU!! I came across your page abt two months ago when I needed new fics and I use your recs so often!! I was wondering, what are a few of your all-time favorite fics, if you had to choose? (:

Oh my goodness! I'm so glad to hear that you've been enjoying my blog! I can't believe I've been running this blog for 3 years today!

What a fun ask (I've been sitting on this so I could use it for today!) I really struggled to pick fics - or more accurately, not to pick ALL the fics! I picked fics that are my go to rereads - whether it's because they make me laugh or because they pull at my heartstrings, or because they're so hot, these are some of my personal favorites.

Cupboard Love by @shealwaysreads (4,184 words, rated G)

Cupboard Love: the psychoanalytic theory of an infant’s primary drive being food which, when satisfied, leads naturally to a secondary drive for attachment.

Harry’s life, and love, in food.

Still Warm, Still Warm by @tsauergrass (4,899 words, rated G)

Harry is up to something. Why else would he keep giving Draco presents?

Five Little Things by @bixgirl1 (6,197 words, rated T)

Harry was supposed to be good at this.

Headway by orphan_account (7,482 words, rated M)

“It’s called courting,” Draco spat suddenly, livid and red in the face. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand a single thing about it, actually Potter, since it’s formal, and there are rules, and neither of those are concepts you’d know anything about even if they took on human form and kicked you right in the fucking dick.”

The Exhale by spqr (7,506 words, rated T)

Hermione makes a soft, concerned sound. "Harry, look at this." She shows him an article with a photo, but the photo's not moving; it must be a Muggle newspaper. "NASA have just landed a rover on Mars. It's called Curiosity, and look, this is so--I don't know if it's sweet or sad, but--it's all alone out there, and they programmed it to sing itself Happy Birthday."

Nothing is wrong, but Harry starts crying.

Silverpoint by @tackytigerfic (8,836 words, rated E)

It seems fairly simple to you, but you know that you don't really understand love - how could you, after all? You've never known how to talk about it, but you've never had to before. Everyone you ended up loving has always understood. You've been able to show them, by fighting for them, dying for them.

That seems a bit much- after all, Malfoy just wants tea in bed and his cock in your mouth (not usually at the same time).

It's ok to love him, you reason with yourself - he doesn't have to know. No one ever has to know.

Quick as a Flash of Lightning, Unhurried as Eternity by @onbeinganangel and @babooshkart (10,000 words, rated E)

Can you fall in love with someone by simply watching them fiercely love another version of yourself?

The Way These Days Seem to Go (And Go) by @firethesound (15,230 words, rated T)

Stress baking isn’t a hobby Harry ever thought he’d pick up, but he’s surprised to find how much it helps him to get through those long months post-war. It keeps his hands busy, it keeps his mind occupied, and when Draco Malfoy steadily pushes his way back into Harry's life, it helps with that too.

Let him lead me to the banquet by @harryromper (16,066 words, rated T)

The worst part is Harry’s got no idea why Malfoy keeps sending him invites. He’s never replied to a single one. And if the whole dinner is as exclusive and sought-after as the Prophet keeps breathlessly reporting, then presumably the only reason Malfoy wants him there is in his capacity as the Chosen One. So, really, he can fuck right off. Harry doesn’t care about Draco Malfoy’s redemption tour. And he’s certainly not going to help him with it.

Draco Malfoy Absolutely Does Not Need to Be Loved by Harry Bloody Potter by @nv-md (18,153 words, rated E)

It’s not easy to be bonded to your childhood rival, turned fuckbuddy, who you also have extremely uncomfortable but repressed feelings for—just ask Draco Malfoy.

When You Kiss Me (What A Lovely Way to Burn) by @femmequixotic (22,167 words, rated E)

A drag fairytale of New York in which Draco wears red lipstick and Potter can’t get enough.

In the dark, the light by phrynne (32,203 words, rated E)

‘Potter… It’s Malfoy. Do you still want this?’ It started like that. Malfoy’s breath on his ear, his voice low, hot against his skin. Harry shivered, though he could feel the heat from Malfoy’s body just behind him, too close, but not touching him. Even if he could. For the rest of the night, he could do whatever the hell he wanted with Harry.

Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon by @drarrytrash (36,733 words, rated E)

According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot.

Draco is a secret werewolf and Harry is doing his best and they've got criminals to catch, darn it.

Boiling Point by @goldentruth813 (42,882 words, rated M)

After an Auror raid gone wrong, Draco ends up trapped in a dodgy safehouse with nothing but Harry Potter’s dubious company and a dwindling supply of food. With only each other and the walls surrounding them, they're forced to confront their past and their feelings which have long been threatening to boil over.

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (103,395 words, rated T)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

Grounds for Divorce by @tepre (122,217 words, rated E)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

What We Pretend We Can't See by @gyzym (131,086 words, rated M)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Love forever,

The Drarry Librarian

#my favorites #my favorite fics #the drarry librarian's favorite fics #drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #harry x draco #the drarry librarian #happy blog anniversary to me! 3 years! #blog anniversary

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 2.3

Yoko, you're hilarious. Sirens going off in her brain. “Alert! They're into childhood bedroom crush confessions territory. Redirect! Redirect!”

But also I find them so ridiculous. All the men in this. Is it just a case of men always assuming women are talking more than they are? Because I am definitely not hearing Yoko talking for John here. Or is this a rare case?

Paul’s scouse getting progressively thicker as the argument intensifies. Trying to finish his point as John's interrupting him. “But. Bot! Boot!! I do think –”Ugh it's so sexy. Sorry, anyway. 

Paul's pep talk to John is super cute, but what does he mean, exactly? “we would actually all have dug to see you kick that telephone box in.”  What is this metaphor? What does he want John to break? Or does he just mean John should act out more?

Okay but in this interview, she's definitely doing 90% of the talking even when the interviewer specifically asks just John. So if that's how they are in meetings or whatever then okay I could see that being frustrating. 

Ow. Fuck. Hate that moment.

John: another Lennon/McCartney original entitled “All I Want is You”. Paul: Allan Wanna Too . . . Al Aronovitz. John: Al Aronovitz if you'll Aronovitz. We'll both Aronovitz together. Ugh sometimes you can just hear the voices in their heads being like “no don't tell him you like his song, that's pathetic! God, you're such a loser for even thinking it.” And sometimes . . . It's this. There's no in between. 

John knows if Paul's singing “Darling” he's talking to him. Look at his expression as he's watching Paul sing “stand by me Darling, Darling.”

“Dig it” is actually insane. Paul: if you want it, you can get it. You can get it if you can dig it up. John: I can hardly keep my hands still. John: if you want it all you gotta do is ask for it. Paul: (intermittent with John, starts a crescendo of “yeah. Yeah! Yeah! YEAH!” and “want it. Want it. Want it. Want it.”) John continues: Nicely. Say pretty please and you're gonna get it. You're gonna get it alright, you're gonna get it. This time you're gonna get it good!

The looks as they're making fun of something important to him. Poor George. 

See and here's the thing. If George knows basically what happened in India (which from this quote that's what I'm deducing) then Paul knows. You know?

Okay you know the “I love you, blue” moment from Get Back? I was feeling so devastated for John that there was no response to that and someone very smart pointed out in the tags that this moment could be interpreted as Paul's coded reply which I think is a lovely idea. And seems legit especially since John responds with song lyrics. 

Paul: no that's good, that one. John: okay, tick it. Paul: I Love that one. John: thank you. Paul: I really do. John: I enjoy it too sometimes. 

Peter Jackson why didn't you include these bits in your film? Huh? Huh? Was it because it was too homosexuality for you? 

John's voice singing “you can imitate anyone you know” over teeny clips of Paul doing about fifty different impressions. It's so phenomenal. 

John's “pleeeeeheeeease” actually makes me want to cry. He's begging with everything he's got. It's like he's a baby, really truly, and it physically hurts. If I was the one he was talking to in that song, I don't know if I could survive. 

But Paul is sure. They're stuck. He can't give John what he wants. 

Yoko tries to give John a kiss and he's so harsh. “Stop it!” If my boy ever talked to me like that . . . Let's just say I wouldn't be sitting with him at work anymore. 

And then he's laying with his head in her lap, laughing madly with Paul. See what I mean? If Paul would just let John lay in his lap, I guarantee Yoko would not be there.

A coded exchange PJ left out. You can tell when they start to talk in code just by their tone. Suddenly they're a bit more even-keeled, a bit slower, clearer in their speech. Paul: achieve something every day. It may in theory sound silly, but . . . John: in practice . . . Paul: it's even sillier. But in practice, it's all there is. John: this is where it's at. Paul: this is where it's at unless that is where it's at. John: this is where it's at now. Paul: teamwork. A good defense. John: you play ball with me and I'll play ball with you. Paul: could be learning something instead of this you know. 

There's a reason Let it Be is played at funerals, folks. 

Is it just me or has Paul literally never looked uglier? Linda's a babe, though. John and Yoko both look cool and hot ASF.

Again, the song choices. “Goodbye (Paul's Version. From the Vault.)” Played over the double wedding footage? Okay. Goodbye, my love. 

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #yoko ono #linda eastman #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hello! I have seen this question debated many times and I wanted to know your take on it cause I find your theories very compelling. Do you think harry should've been in Slytherin? Does he have what it "takes" to be a Slytherin? Is it because of voldemort's soul in him that lead the sorting hat to even suggest he could be in Slytherin? I know this is not one question but I would like to know your opinion on this topic in general!

First of all, thank you for the kind words! 😊

As for the questions, well, you've asked more than one question, but this ask kinda gives me a good reason to talk about how Harry isn't some golden Gryffindor. He actually has some anger issues and he most definitely has what it "takes" for Slytherin.

I'll start with the last question and then go backward, actually.

Did the hat consider Slytherin house just because of the Horcrux?

I don't think so.

I mean, Harry is incredibly clever, magically powerful, and has a cunning streak a mile wide all on his own. I'd actually go as far as to say he's more cunning, ruthless, and resourceful than many of the Slytherins we see in the books. So his own traits definitely are in line with a Slytherin sorting, Horcrux or no Horcrux.

We can try and discern if the Horcrux has an effect on Harry's personality then, and if its influence is seen like that. I'd say that I don't think so either.

Tom and Harry, while they have their similarities, are very different people. They both have a bad temper (although they react to anger differently), but Harry has low self-esteem whereas Tom thinks he is the best (while still hating himself). They're both stubborn, but Tom is much more obsessive than Harry in pursuit of his goals. Harry cares for justice and isn't willing to hurt innocents, Tom doesn't really care about any of that he cares for efficiency. If the Horcrux was influencing Harry's personality, I'd expect to see more similarities between them that go deeper than that.

So, I don't think the hat only offered Slytherin because of the Horcrux. Harry is a Slytherin in his own right.

Does Harry have what it "takes" for Slytherin?

So, I honestly got really excited at the sight of this sentence. See I love Harry, that's no secret. But one of the things I love about him is that he isn't the perfect noble hero. He can be angry, and cruel and ruthless. But he has a sense of justice, he wouldn't wish harm on someone innocent, but someone who did harm to him, or was mean to him or someone he cares for... then Harry can be terrifying when he wants to be.

So, now I'm going to go through some (I have so many more examples of this, and the examples here are mostly books 1-5 since that's what I had on hand) of my collection of quotes showing Harry Potter's vindictiveness and anger.

Harry's response to "have a good summer" at the end of his first year:

“Oh, I will,” said Harry, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over his face. “They don’t know we’re not allowed to use magic at home. I’m going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer.…

(PS, page 221)

This is Harry's (very justified) vindictiveness we see towards the Dursleys many times in the books. He uses the idea of magic to scare them and is gleeful at the thought of Dudley's fear. Harry is very much chill with vengeance.

“…He likes to keep in touch with me, though . . . keep up with my news . . . check if I’m happy. . . .” And, grinning broadly at the look of horror on Uncle Vernon’s face, Harry set off toward the station exit, Hedwig rattling along in front of him, for what looked like a much better summer than the last.

(PoA, page 435)

Same as above, just Sirius Black as the threat instead of magic.

Yes, thought Harry, that looked all right. There was no point putting in the dream; he didn’t want it to look as though he was too worried.

(GoF, page 25)

Harry can and does lie and conceal information, even from people he trusts (like Sirius) if he thinks it'll be better not to tell them something. Whether that is for his own image or for what they would think.

“Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?” It was Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines. “We were — we were —” Ron stammered. “We were going to — to go and see —” “Hermione,” said Harry. Ron and Professor McGonagall both looked at him. “We haven’t seen her for ages, Professor,” Harry went on hurriedly, treading on Ron’s foot, “and we thought we’d sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry —” Professor McGonagall was still staring at him, and for a moment, Harry thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice. “Of course,” she said, and Harry, amazed, saw a tear glistening in her beady eye.

(CoS, page 259)

And he clearly can lie well, even at 12.

But Harry wasn’t going to stand for this. Gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys’ stupid rules. He wasn’t following Dudley’s diet, and he wasn’t going to let Uncle Vernon stop him from going to the Quidditch World Cup, not if he could help it. Harry took a deep, steadying breath and then said, “Okay, I can’t see the World Cup. Can I go now, then? Only I’ve got a letter to Sirius I want to finish. You know — my godfather.” He had done it. He had said the magic words. Now he watched the purple recede blotchily from Uncle Vernon’s face, making it look like badly mixed black currant ice cream.

...

He stopped there to enjoy the effect of these words. He could almost see the cogs working under Uncle Vernon’s thick, dark, neatly parted hair. If he tried to stop Harry writing to Sirius, Sirius would think Harry was being mistreated. If he told Harry he couldn’t go to the Quidditch World Cup, Harry would write and tell Sirius, who would know Harry was being mistreated. There was only one thing for Uncle Vernon to do. Harry could see the conclusion forming in his uncle’s mind as though the great mustached face were transparent. Harry tried not to smile, to keep his own face as blank as possible. And then — “Well, all right then. You can go to this ruddy . . . this stupid . . . this World Cup thing.

(GoF, page 33)

Again, vindictiveness and manipulation of Vernon through fear. Not only that, but Harry can keep his calm and keep his face blank even at 14 for the sake of getting something he wants.

“Get stuffed, Malfoy,” said Harry. “C’mon, Ron. . . .” “Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter?” sneered Malfoy. “So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?” “You know your mother, Malfoy?” said Harry — both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron’s robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy — “that expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?” Malfoy’s pale face went slightly pink. “Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter.” “Keep your fat mouth shut, then,” said Harry, turning away.

(GoF, page 204)

Harry has a bark (all of the above quotes are Harry having a bark). He can and does shoot back as good as he gets.

Harry isn't all bark though, he's got a bit. Harry's anger is palpable and so very real and I love seeing it:

just as Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters. “COME BACK IN HERE!” he bellowed. “COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!” But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon. “She deserved it,” Harry said, breathing very fast. “She deserved what she got. You keep away from me.”  He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door. “I’m going,” Harry said. “I’ve had enough.”

(PoA, page 30)

Again, Harry has his vindictive strike. (Obviously, Marge had it coming, but that's also what Harry is thinking).

A boiling hate erupted in Harry’s chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted his wand back in his hand, not to defend himself, but to attack . . . to kill.

(PoA, page 339)

“You killed my parents,” said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

(PoA, page 341)

Harry, at 13, was fully willing to kill who he believed led to his parents' deaths. And more:

So what if he had to kill the cat too? It was in league with Black. . . . If it was prepared to die, trying to protect Black, that wasn’t Harry’s business. . . .

(PoA, page 342)

He's willing to kill Hermione's cat if it stands in his way.

Harry stood there, feeling suddenly empty. He hadn’t done it. His nerve had failed him. Black was going to be handed back to the dementors.

(PoA, page 343)

Harry Potter, at 13, laments that he didn't have the nerve to kill Sirius himself. He thinks he should've killed himself. He sees it as a failure that justice would be served by someone other than him.

Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . .

(GoF, page 300)

Harry felt oddly separate from everyone around him, whether they were wishing him good luck or hissing “We’ll have a box of tissues ready, Potter ” as he passed. It was a state of nervousness so advanced that he wondered whether he mightn’t just lose his head when they tried to lead him out to his dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight.

(GoF, page 347)

The above quotes are both situations Harry was willing and wishing to curse people. Even Crucio Snape. He's not as noble and righteous and golden as many fans and characters in the books make him out to be...

If Dudley’s friends saw him sitting here, they would be sure to make a beeline for him, and what would Dudley do then? He wouldn’t want to lose face in front of the gang, but he’d be terrified of provoking Harry. . . . It would be really fun to watch Dudley’s dilemma; to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond . . . and if any of the others tried hitting Harry, Harry was ready — he had his wand . . . let them try . . . He’d love to vent some of his frustration on the boys who had once made his life hell —

(OotP, page 11)

And sometimes, Harry wishes for an excuse to fight. An excuse to take his anger out on someone. (He has a lot of anger in him)

Smirking all over his pointed face, Draco Malfoy leaned across Harry and seized the largest bowtruckle. “Maybe,” said Malfoy in an undertone, so that only Harry could hear him, “the stupid great oaf’s got himself badly injured.” “Maybe you will if you don’t shut up,” said Harry out of the side of his mouth.

(OotP, page 260)

He's threatening and witty.

“Oh no,” said Hermione, quaking so badly that her knees gave way. “Oh, that was horrible. And he [Gwamp] might kill them [the centaurs] all. . . .” “I’m not that fussed, to be honest,” said Harry bitterly.

(OotP, page 759)

And when it comes to people he doesn't consider innocent, or ones he doesn't care for, even if they never harmed him, Harry is still vindictive. The centaurs mistreated Firenze and Hagrid, so Harry doesn't really care if Gwamp kills them all.

That being said, he is more concerned about Sirius in the above scene.

And he can and does cast unforgivables easily by the later books:

Hatred rose in Harry such as he had never known before. He flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed “Crucio!” Bellatrix screamed. The spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had — she was already on her feet again, breathless, no longer laughing. Harry dodged behind the golden fountain again — her counterspell hit the head of the handsome wizard, which was blown off and landed twenty feet away, gouging long scratches into the wooden floor.

(OotP, page 809)

Harry raised the hawthorn wand beneath the cloak, pointed it at the old goblin, and whispered, for the first time in his life, “Imperio!” A curious sensation shot down Harry’s arm, a feeling of tingling, warmth that seemed to flow from his mind, down the sinews and veins connecting him to the wand and the curse it had just cast. The goblin took Bellatrix’s wand, examined it closely, and then said, “Ah, you have had a new wand made, Madam Lestrange!”

(DH, pages 152-453)

As Amycus spun around, Harry shouted, “Crucio!” The Death Eater was lifted off his feet. He writhed through the air like a drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor. “I see what Bellatrix meant,” said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, “you need to really mean it.”

(DH, page 502)

So, I think Harry definitely has what it takes. He's clever, he can be ruthless, and he's capable of lying and hiding secrets when he feels it's the best option. He can hide his emotions when he really needs to, even if he rarely does. Actually, only in book 6, Harry starts sharing everything with Ron and Hermione on Dumbledore’s advice. Up to that point, he kept quite a bit to himself. And when someone wrongs him, he can and often will swing back.

And last but not least, should he have been in Slytherin?

So, this is an interesting question, because "should" can have two meanings.

1. Should've for the story — as in what is best for the narrative.

2. Should've for the character — in universe, which house the sorting hat should've picked.

So, for the first one, my answer is no. Gryffindor was the right choice for Harry for the narrative of the books as they are. Gryffindor is essentially the opposite of Slytherin and represents a choice more than just the traits and values the house represents. It represents Harry's choice even though he could've been a Slytherin he chose Gryffindor. And it's a constant choice with every heroic act. (personally, I'm not the biggest fan of equating school houses with morality, but it's effective in creating a clear narrative)

And while not all Slytherins are evil and not all Gryffindors are good, a Slytherin Harry Potter would've resulted in a very different story than what we have. So, for the story we ended up getting to happen the way it did, yes, Harry needed to be a Gryffindor.

For the second, maybe. Personally, I believe people (even if they aren't hatstalls) have more than one house they can fit into. Harry is both a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, and neither of them is more wrong or right for him as a person. I think deciding which one of them is best for him is up to a coin flip (and when in his life the question is asked).

He can be ruthless and cunning like a Slytherin. Selfless and courageous like a Gryffindor. He values justice like a Gryffindor. But he also has the selective loyalty of Slytherin to their own.

Point is, there isn't really a "should", because both suit him and he would’ve done well in both. Do I think Slytherin Harry is an incredibly fun concept to consider? Yes. Did I read way too many fics with this premise and would read more? Yes. Do I think he might've fit into Slytherin better than Gryffindor? Well, not necessarily.

Harry is much quieter than most in Gryffindor, but I think the constant scheming and image-keeping in Slytherin would be exhausting to him. He just doesn't care about all the gossip and politicalizing (something that occasionally leaves him out of the loop also in Gryffindor). So, again, both suit him about equally. The difference is that we get a very different story depending on his house.

#harry potter #harry potter thoughts #hp #hp thoughts #hollowedtheory #harry potter analysis #harry potter meta #hp meta #harry james potter #asks #anon asks #anonymous #slytherin harry potter

[trigunbookclub]

TrigunBookclub Afterparty!

Hello there! As bookclub winds down to a close, there a few things to announce:

Bookclub Afterparty!

Bookclub may officially be over, but the Trimax brainrot continues! There are some bonus comics, the Multiple Bullets anthology (with all its great and terrible stories), and some folks have fallen behind, have essays left to write, or have things they wanted to create or share and haven't had a chance. I myself fell behind since life has been a bit hellish on my end, I'm two volumes behind--and I don't seem to bethe only one in that position!

So, I want to invite people to keep using and watching the tag until the end of October! Discuss, share theories, thoughts, art, shout-out posts and ideas that you love, just have fun! You can discuss the entire series and all related materials--hell, you can even do a read/reread it if you want to. Whatever goes, so long as it follows the guidelines.

Bookclub 2.0!

I've been talking with the @trigun-manga-overhaul team, who we all know has the best Trigun manga translation out there--but it's about to get better with Overhaul 2.0! When it drops probably next year, it will be at the pace of a chapter a week, and I plan to run the bookclub during that time to celebrate! This gives much more time for discussion, comparing, analyzing, and keeping up with posts. Since it will be a longer reading time and it's round two, spoilers will be allowed, though I will ask that they be tagged.

I also highly encourage everyone to feel free to use the tag when the hardcovers from Dark Horse are released to celebrate and discuss!

Bookclub Archive!

Since social media has a tendency to be ephemeral at best, the lovely @versaphile has taken it upon themselves to archive the bookclub posts of everyone who gives permission for them to do so! This way you can binge meta and posts and find everything much more easily. You can find the archive here, and see an example of archived posts here. If you're interested in or okay with being included in the project, please contact @trigunreferencelibrary!

Bookclub Stickers!

Multiple people have talked about wanting a badge of honor for participating in/keeping up with bookclub, and I think that might be a bit tricky... but how about some stickers? I figure that this way, the shipping is affordable even for international folks since I've seen a good amount of people around the world participating and lurking! I'm going to try and find printing for as affordably as I can (if anyone out there knows any good distributors for smaller batch sticker orders, please shoot me a DM!), and it won't be something to profit off of--just in memory of a great time! The only thing is I have two options, and I don't know if either of them are even what folks want. So...

And that's all that I can think of for now! I'm a bit exhausted and run ragged at the moment, so feel free to ask for any clarification on anything. When I started this project, I honestly didn't think I'd get many if any people following through--I know people lose their focus easily (myself included). But instead it turned into a huge celebration of a beautiful manga that is finally getting the attention it deserves after kind of getting buried by time. I've met some absolutely amazing and brilliant people throughout this event, and I just want to say thank you to every single person who made a post, supported others, and/or just lurked. You guys are fantastic and made this an amazing experience.

#Trigun #Trimax #Trigun Maximum #TrigunBookclub #I can't believe it's over ):

[hard-core-super-star]

May I please request that Hailee and reader are in a secret relationship, and hailee is on instagram live, fans can hear movement and voices in the background and keep asking hailee whose with her.

meet me there, i'll give you your roses [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: just because you two are supposed to be keeping your relationship a secret doesn't mean you can't have some fun with it.

warnings: none, just fluff; secret relationship shenanigans; weird descriptions of an instagram live chat; still can't write endings :)

wordcount: 1k

a/n: full disclosure, the title has nothing to do with the fic at all, i'm just spreading the måneskin agenda. i sort of messed around with the point of view in this fic, it might not be noticeable but just wanted to point it out in case it's confusing. it's more hailee-centric than my other fics instead of it just being about R's thoughts. you'll see what i mean, hope you enjoy! <3

* * * * * * *

Hailee’s eyes are trained on the screen of her phone while she tells the most ridiculously random story she could think of. It’s been far too long since the last time she did an Instagram Live and her excitement at getting to interact with her fans again is more than a little obvious.

Free time has been harder and harder to find between all the photoshoots and interviews, especially considering there's only one person she wants to talk to when her schedule allows it.

“And then y/n had to come in and-”

You look up at the sound of your name. You hadn’t been paying much attention to her story, too busy looking through food delivery apps and trying to decide what to have for dinner.

The original plan was to cook something for dinner but a certain someone decided to do an impulsive Live instead and so the plan was scrapped. Not that you mind. Hailee’s skill in the kitchen is…a work in progress, at least when it comes to potato peels.

Her eyes meet yours almost as if she knows exactly what you’re thinking about. You half expect her to stick her tongue out at you but doing that would only lead to more questions she can’t answer.

You offer her a smile instead before the two of you go back to looking at your respective phones.

Hailee resumes her story, pretending she got distracted by one of her dogs and not her lovely girlfriend. It’s practically impossible to act like she can’t see all the questions pouring in about who she was actually looking at but she manages. (It’s not like acting is her job or anything)

The questions and comments flying by her screen should be annoying or at the very least overwhelming but she ends up finding them quite entertaining. She’s not about to pretend like questions about her sexuality or who she’s dating are anything new but at least now they’re less straightforward (no pun intended) than when she was on Dickinson.

At least she's not actually trying to keep things a secret this time. She's just waiting for the right time. Although the waiting gets harder every time you look at her like she's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen. She'd be upset if she wasn't aware that's exactly how she looks at you.

She tries to keep your name out of her mouth for at least a few minutes to not look super obvious but she fails miserably. “Where’s y/n?” She reads the question out loud before she can stop herself. “I don't know, probably burning down the apartment.”

An offended gasp comes from the side of the room where you're standing and you know you're kidding yourself if you think her phone didn't pick up the sound.

The look she sends your way says as much and you mentally curse yourself. Although, to be completely honest, if there's one thing you both love more than each other it's feeding the theories about your relationship.

The both of you should definitely be more careful if you don't want to get found out but creating chaos within her fandom is just too much fun. Plus, the only reason you two are sneaking around is because Hailee wants to come out ‘the right way’. Whatever that means.

(You're pretty sure it means a song and a music video featuring you but your girlfriend has been very tight-lipped about her music since SunKissing came out. A song that very well serves as a coming out announcement in your opinion.)

You decide to fix your mistake by turning people's attention elsewhere so you open up Instagram and click on Hailee’s profile. You can hear the chuckle she tries to hold back once she reads your comment.

yourusername: are you insulting my cooking skills again, Steinfeld?

The chat explodes into a flurry of comments that a certain pair of brown eyes can't keep up with.

“I'm just telling people the truth,” she replies. “There's a reason you always order food instead of cooking.”

yourusername: yeah. you never wash the dishes

“Oh, that's low.”

She forgets the game you're playing for a second, looking up to glare at you. Her eyes don't end up meeting yours since you're too busy staring down at your phone.

A small smile spreads along her face as she admires you. Even in the middle of teasing her in front of her fans, you're the most amazing thing she's ever laid eyes on. Eyes that give away the fact that she's not home alone like she originally said she was.

She looks back at her phone just in time to catch sight of the many questions she has to avoid. Such as,”Who are you looking at? Is y/n at your place? Are you having dinner together?”

She ignores them all except the one that comes from the person who owns her heart.

yourusername: so, what are YOU cooking for dinner, chef steinfeld???

The response she comes up with is definitely a bad idea but it slips out anyway. “I don't know. What do you want for dinner?”

She tries to cover up the sound of your laugh by ‘accidentally’ kicking some of Martini’s squeaky dog toys. It's a bad coverup but it's the only choice she has. It would be a lot more believable if her dogs weren't asleep in the bedroom.

yourusername: too late, i already ordered cheeseburgers

“Marry me right now,” she replies, her smile turning into a slight smirk.

You know she's messing around but your heart still skips a couple of beats as you type out your response.

yourusername: i'll think about it ;)

The doorbell rings just in time.

You let her wrap up the Live as you pick up your food. By the time you come back, her phone is gone and she's already curled up on the couch scrolling through Netflix for something to watch.

“That was fast,” you say.

She shrugs. “Thought I should help you reconsider my proposal.”

“Food first, proposal later.” You hand the bag holding your dinner over to her.

“Seriously, y/n, could you be any more perfect?”

The laugh that escapes you is enough of an answer for her. You're everything she's ever wanted.

#hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld x female reader #hailee steinfeld x you #hailee steinfeld x y/n #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfeld fluff #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld fanfiction #hailee steinfeld #hawkeye #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing

[sserajeans]

you are in love | bonus 1. BHB, be honest bro! (written)

note: the convo happens when minyn r in the plane, so it's dialogue-focused with not much action involved

"so..."

"so what?"

"how are you and...?"

"minji..."

"i'm just checking on you! the aquatic games is enough on your plate, i'd rather talk about the fun stuff."

"fine fine. i've been having a lot of fun with her lately. like the past month has always just been practice, so the dates at the end of the week was stuff i could look forward to."

"that's so sweet why are you guys so sweet i feel sick to my stomach like no wo-"

"I KNOW!! dani's the sweetest... she really thought everything out. she makes me forget about morning practice the next day. she even brought breakfast in a little container one time when i was texting her about being especially hungry after practice."

"oh wow... you lucked out so hard... aren't you two supposed to be unlabeled too?"

"...yeah."

"she's so gonna step up her game when she asks."

"i can't think about it. she's way too good for me."

"what do you mean?"

"it's just... i can tell she's into it more than i am? and i feel like shit, being okay with just receiving all of it and not giving the same amount. and i'm scared that when she does ask me i still won't be in a place to truthfully say yes."

"well... let's not dive too deep, let's start with... maybe what's holding you back? from giving her that energy, i mean."

"well if you say it like that it just sounds like i've been treating her like ass. which i haven't! i really do try my best and everything, it's just.."

"just...?"

"i don't think my best for her is on the same level as her best for me."

"okay... well i think i'm beginning to see it. so let me rephrase, what's keeping you from reaching that level?"

"i... i don't really... know?"

"give it some time."

"wow you're really digging into the psychologist role huh?"

"doesn't it help you with mushing out your emotions or what?"

"...fine. let me think."

"sure."

"..."

"..."

"i think..."

"...you think?"

"i don't want to give her an insincere show of affection."

"so i'm guessing... you would rather be upfront with how much you feel and how you show it?"

"right, yeah."

"and?"

"and i guess there is something that holds me back from feeling that much for her."

"like?"

"i don't know? swim? that's all i can think about these days."

"well yeah, but you've been stressing over swim every season."

"that's true i guess, but also it's senior year. my performance this year determines whether i get to go to college as a national team member or not. anyways, give me more time to think?"

"sure."

"..."

"..."

"...this is hard."

"is it pham?"

"what?"

"is it pham? that's holding you back from feeling anything more."

"no? what? how did you even get to her?"

"in full honesty i didn't think much of it, but ever since that girl in class asked if you two were dating i was beginning to see dots i could connect."

"literally what dots. there are no dots to connect."

"call me insane-"

"you're insane."

"-but it made sense, okay? you liked her-"

"-in freshman year!"

"and i don't think she likes you and dani hanging out."

"what? that's stupid, what makes you think that?"

"well she says it's about her best friend hanging out with the group less, especially since it's senior year now and all."

"well yeah i'd get that but... she's never mentioned this when i went out with like leehan and the rest?"

"nah it's more of how you got a girl now."

"oh..."

"yeah."

"what if she just likes dani? it makes a lot more sense than this theory of yours where she likes her literal childhood best friend who she, by the way, more or less rejected 5 years ago."

"i don't know y/n, this past month has been weird. she's the reason you haven't died from the allergy attack and the reason you have your swim cap, you know that right?"

"what about the swim cap?"

"forced me to come with her and help you in person. at like the crack ass of night."

"okay but you were probably just binging something on the tv."

"my point exactly! she cut off my relaxing time."

"you're unbelievable."

"well yes, but anyways, my hunches on these are almost always right. remember when i told you i felt like you'd win gold for the 100m fly category in last year's regional event?"

"yeah."

"and you did win, didn't you?"

"i did."

"there you go. the only problem here is hanni is still fully convinced she's straight."

"and that i don't like her anymore? and that i'm literally going out with someone else?"

"yeah whatever, sure you don't."

"i'm being for real."

"if you're being for real... let me in your private account."

"...what."

"come on! you let wonyoung in it!"

"i was going through a crisis back in 10th when backyardigans were distant 'cause jiwoo was a brooding teenager! plus, i kicked her when i started going out with dani."

"be honest bro!"

"fine!"

masterlist. next.

taglist: @yyeonmis @lostamoeba @jisooftme @yoontoonwhs @awkwardtoafault @kvnii @lcv3lies @limbforalimb @spritin @kaypanaq @i06kkura @manooffline @kimsgayness @justme-idle @jenaissantex @mightymyo @sewiouslyz @txtbrainrot @li0ilthecxnt @captivq @paranoxic @sofakingwoso @daniellobers @pandafuriosa60 @haerinkisser @staryujinnie @wowowowcake @lesleepyyy @haechansbbg @rosiehrs @jiwoneiric @blue4hour

#newjeans x reader #newjeans imagines #newjeans smau #newjeans fanfic #hanni x reader #hanni pham x reader #hanni imagines #hanni smau #kim minji #danielle marsh #mo jihye #kang haerin #lee hyein

[inchidentally]

Your favorite moments from Lando and Oscar's challenges?

I HAD TO STOP DOING THIS BC I WAS LOSING HALF MY LIFE REWATCHING THE VIDEOS

so an incomplete but already exhaustive list:

is it just redundant to say Finish the Lyric at this point bc it's confirmed landoscar lore now. specifically the way that Lando keeps wriggling and leaning into Oscar's space is an underrated part but honestly it's the prime example of Oscar watching Lando's every move and Lando playing up to Oscar's attention every way possible. special mention for Lando's immense pride at Oscar singing for the first time ever in front of him.

honestly same for Garden Games - self-explanatory but the sheer squeakiness and giddiness when Lando was (secretly hoping) asking if Oscar would go between his legs while saying Oscaaahhh launched so many fic moments OH and Lando once again being so proud that Oscar did his first Like and Subscribe

Red Flag/Green Flag "I'm a Scorpio and lemme tell you all about it" and "maybe it is me" because Lando uhhhh truly let his flag fly in this one and Oscar had a blast. they do SO much better with challenges that are more freeform because Lando likes to act up and Oscar loves it.

Lie Detector test is SO FLIRTY. the fact that they keep trying to almost touch hands by awkwardly leaning the machine right in the middle when they don't have to. the way it feels like a first date. but the "you've got quite big arms" is the moment for me. and I mean yes, Oscar does have quite big arms.

Who Said What because of the sheer fondness but also "you like having fun huh?" "I do like having fun" - oh and the incredibly fond look Oscar gives Lando when Lando puts his hands in the air to celebrate at the end

Who's Most Likely To precisely because Oscar keeps trying to avoid showing that he already knows every fact about Lando but slips up a lot. my favorite underrated moment is when Lando tells the story about having to sneak back into his own house as a kid (he had told this during a Max stream? or Quadrant? video already) and babes we KNOW Oscar already knew about that one too. oh and let's not forget the Hair Touch. this was also classic bc Max watched it on stream and stood up for Oscar every time.

Iconic Toys - Lando marching Barbie over to Oscar is too fucking adorable, especially the fact that Oscar lets it happen and keeps talking but also began a habit Lando had for a while of stretching over to Oscar's chair for some reason

Build Their own Dream F1 Team - Mahk Wibba is obviously a great moment but my favorite is how Lando keeps butting in on Oscar's choices and Oscar is the dutiful husband saying yes dear and as always Lando getting impatient when Oscar takes too long (even though Lando takes lots of time to answer)

Theory Test - this little moment of "right? right" was so cute bc it was so early in knowing each other but Oscar is already reacting to Lando's 'I'm an absolute little shit' expressions and same goes for Oscar patiently walking Lando through one sentence so patiently and saying "there you go"

Fact or Phish - because we found out Oscar's heritage but also found out that Lando doesn't understand the difference between nationality and heritage - we also had Lando for the first time ever in any McLaren or honestly even Quadrant challenge history, remember something about someone else's past besides his own which honestly was legendary

dear god help my life since you sent this ask anon bc I've basically eaten gone to the toilet worked and watched landoscar challenges and NOTHING else

there are so many more so I might return to this but I have to stop myself for now

(please rb with your own anyone who sees this!)

#landoscar lore #mctwinks #twinklaren #inchreplies

[rainybraindays]

Seeing people call book Colin abusive and being like "he had no reason to be so mad about Whistledown )):" and like...yeah he kinda did?

Whistledown may notbe as bad in the books but she is in everyones business still, shes spreading gossip, and people do have a desire to find her. Hes afraid of what happens when they do. Because hes right, Cressida, to most people is the more pleasing option because shes popular but not liked and conventionally attractive and people will more easily shrug it off. They'll still be mad but they'll consider it par for the course with her and move on. Some may not even believe her, like Lady Danbury but if no one else comes forward they've no reason to think otherwise.

Penelope, short, chubby, unimportant to most everyone Penelope? That will piss them off. She doesn't have the social capital to keep herself from being ostracized, people will be pissed this person they look down on, a spinster, someone who never even talks, had such control over their lives.

Colins worried, he says it himself, about this, about he risks shes been taking for over a decade. Hes jealous she's found something thats her and he feels like he hasn't done the sames. Hes mad hes been lied to, feels like hes been made fun of with his Eloise theory, but most of all hes in love and hes frightened by the prospect of what could have happened to her. By what still could happen to her if she was found out.

The other scene also often quoted as Colin being abusive is him grabbing her arm at their engagement ball.

Do you remember what happened in that scene?

An issue of Whistledown is distributed midball, the one that ends up giving Cressida enough to blackmail her mind you, the one Colin had asked her not to publish and thought she had agreed not to. Penelopes inner dialog tells us this wasn't planned. She'd planned it for a different ball, so she can enjoy hers, she knows Colins going to be mad, and I bet you she doesn't want to argue on their happy day. Colin grabbing her, while done in anger, has always read to me less as some rage fueled behavior with no thought, but as a way to keep her from trying to sip away. He knows she doesn’t wana have this argument again. He likely doesn't even want to have this argument, but he knows they have to.

People often view this scenes as Colin being physically aggressive and this unbelievabley abusive person. They look at this, and have been yowling about how he treats her so unfairly. This fandon is horrible about not looking at the entire scene. The carriage scene has them arguing, Penelope bites back at him just as much as he snaps at her. Their engament ball fight leads to their first night together. This is them seeing each other at their worst. And in the end they still choose wach other

His anger isn't entirely jealous like some try to paint it. Theres genuine worry, hes afraid for her he says so himself. People keep saying how Penelope is afraid of him but shes not thats made clear several times. She's more afraid of them arguing because she thinks that it'll be enough to make him not choose her.

These arguments are necessary. They help Colin see her as a whole person, it helps him solidify that his feelings are as deep as he thinks. It helps Penelope see him as a whole person as well not just the man shes been crushing on her whole life, which she mentions in the book. It shows that they can get through the big issues in their relationship without falling apart.

And remember Cressida blackmails Penelope. Very much one of the things Colin was afraid of. The only reason he can do the big reveal is because its after they're married, and he tells Anthony and Simon whats happening beforehand. She has far more social capital as a Bridgerton wife than she ever did as a Featherington daughter

Should Colin have grabbed her? Maybe not, but I don't think thats enough to label him as an abusive asshole unworthy of love. You don’t always make the best decision, but one slip, especially one so minor as grabbing your partner so they can't slip away before you get to talk to them about a issue you know they won't like talking about, does not make you horribly abusive like some of you suggest.

And another related side note, a huge thing i see ALL the time, is how Colin's anger comes out of nowhere.

"ooooh in the other books colin doesn't have an angry bone in his body, hes so nice and relaxed, how could Quinn write him as such an ass in his own."

A temper not often showing is not the same as it not existing. When he says he wouldn't marry Penelope in the books? Very much an angry scene. Hes being teased after having her pushed on him by his mother, and hes tired of it and snaps aggressively to make it stop. Colin has always had a temper, it just wasn't nearly as important to the other books thus not explored. I know he says in the book how he doesn't think he has one, but we also tend to push away traits we view as negative when thinking on ourselves.

Anyway, please remember that Show Colin is going to have the worst reaction to the Whistledown reveal, as said by the cast themselves, and I'm kinda living for it.

#rainy talks #sorry on my soapbox again #i think I may marry the thing at this point #but seriously if you look at this and call it abusive #but then gush about Anthony who's a massive dick his entire book with some troubling moments #or Benedict “I'm going to find a more acceptable wife but until them pls let me fuck you” Bridgerton who's more than a little pushy #i don’t rlly take you seriously #bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #lady whistledown #polin

[creation-help]

Miscellaneous character design tips (that everyone could find useful)

- Feathers in hair, behind the ear, on the head, in some headress ect? Just don't. Unless you're indigenous I strongly, strongly advise against it, bc native people have criticized this design trope time and time again. Accessories and clothing like this can be very difficult to get right if you don't know what you're doing.

• Also! W*ndigos. Don't. If you wanna design a character that "looks like" (or is what you imagine when you think of a) W*ndigo, just. Design a character that looks like that and call it some other monster (Disclaimer: I'm mainly talking about things like those skull headed monsters with antlers ykno). These creatures have alot of deep meaning to the cultures they're from, and people are tired of them being appropriated and misrepresented. It will cost you nothing to just make a generic monster rather than butcher something from a marginalized culture. (Also, I've censored the word because in the past I've been told that using it's name is bad luck/harmful, so I'm doing this to be respectful)

(Natives/indigenous people are welcome to add on discussion about this if you feel like there's anything I could've said differently)

- Unless your character design is meant to be flexible, up to artist interpretation, or just messy, place patterns and decorative characteristics on distinct, memorable places. For example if your character has spots, put the most notable ones on places that're easy to remember and replicate, like on particular body parts. I'd also advise to make just a bit less of these patterns. Generally, if you're not aiming for a cluttered looking design, prioritize quality over quantity, when it comes to patterns.

- A character design's intent is just as important as the actual character design. You'll see me mentioning this on the previous point as well. Unless we're talking about offensive caricatures, there's teeechnically no such thing as a "bad" character design. Just rather a failed or unsuccessful one. What I mean by that, is that if your design is meant to look cliche, tacky, messy, or just plain unappealing, and it looks like such, that is a successful design! If you designed a character just to be something fun for you to draw, that's a successful design! I often see this point applied more professionally by other art advisors, to mean more like "You should be able to tell what kind of character it is based on the design", which is also true! But intent and purpose matters in storytelling. Obviously, not all aspects of a design need to be there for some very specific reason (looking at the people who ask "Why was this character made fat/gnc/black/poc?" and so on.) just keep in mind what this character is supposed to be. I think it's better to worry about if the character design does what it's supposed to, rather than if it's ""Good""

(And yeah, there are still things that just objectively don't look very good together, according to human perspective and color theory and whatnot, but again, if you're aiming for that, you go buddy!)

- Sorta coinciding with the previous point: Don't be afraid to use "ugly" traits when designing. I think the reason why is obvious (beauty standards can go suck a dick), but there's more to it than just radical acceptance! By giving more unique, weird, or "ugly" traits to your characters, you make them more memorable and distinct from one another. If there's a billion smooth faced perfect pretty characters who are the exact same kind of flavorless vanilla sexy, it gets boring, and they blend together! And please don't limit these traits to just villains or characters who are supposed to be disliked!! My other advice on this point, is, pllllease don't design villains "ugly" and heroes "pretty", I feel like that should be a given, but alot of people may be doing it without even realizing. And that's understandable, but I heartily recommend taking a second to think about it more deeply. Why is this visual trait "Bad", or "Evil"? I just feel like so many artists are deathly afraid of having their characters look the least bit unappealing or challenging. I could go on about this but I'll stop here to keep it concise. Don't beauty police your oc is all I'm sayin

- Reference! I don't necessarily mean take inspiration from other existing character designs, although that can also be helpful. I mean that look around you, think broadly! If you have a certain theme for your design, try to round up all the little things (items, concepts, colors, animals, traits) that could be associated with it! And try to reflect that in your character design. You can get a little wacky and experimental. You can literally just broaden your inspiration to things like everyday objects, a specific fabric texture, an element, or a fungi that lives in moldy houses. Anything! My main point is to try to think outside the box and consider more unconventional things to reference for your character design, you'll never know what might work and look really interesting. Often, a bland design is worse than a weird one. (Disclaimer: Unless you're aiming for bland ofc, per my prev points, but ykno). You can also just go by "Hmm, I'm making a character who is X, what does that remind me of?" or, what I also recommend "Hmm, so X kinds of characters remind me of these things. Let's ditch that and think what one usually wouldn't associate with X kinds of characters!". Ykno, defy convention, think about things you might not usually do. I know it can be easier said than done but once you get into a habit of trying to think more broadly, it'll come to you easier. Don't be afraid to get odd and unusual

- While I don't condemn designing a character in a way that just, is that way, because you designed it like that, I also recommend thinking about how and why the character is like that in-story. Might seem like an obvious tip, but I'll elaborate. I for example, have a pair of bug demon characters who grew up on the streets and didn't have the normal amount of nourishment for their age, so, due to that their mouth pincers and other buggy parts were left much smaller and more "plain" looking than others of their species. They never developed to their appropriate adult size. Things like this will reflect on a character design! And that's just one example. If your character has a habit of nervous picking, or sensory problems, or live in an area where certain resources for clothing aren't available, all of this will reflect on the design! Of course, you can also work backwards from a design and think "Hmm, what justification will I think of for the character having these traits (especially if they're uncommon for their story setting)?"

I may do a part 2 sometime later, I just had some thoughts I wanted to compile for now! Obviously you can have your own design principles but these are ones I consistently use (also the first one being as specific as it is, is just something I particularly wanted to say).

#Character design #for character design #Character design tips #character design ideas #Cultural appropriation #Ask to tag #design tips #Design ideas #Artists on Tumblr #monster design #Artblr #Important

[stickyspeckledlight]

informally answering/replying to @harmonysanreads questions in le reblog. ask and ye shall receive answers

'Tis a good question. First, I insert a load of unicorn farts---

My kneejerk answer is:

But that's also a fucking LIE RAHHHHHHHHH 🔫

but i suppose 'delightfully flavored chaos' is the best way to put it, as you can tell from the above. when it comes to writing stuff, I generally only really use a loose outline, with maybe a box or two that absolutely has to be checked. it's mostly because I sort of like letting my fingers...just kinda go where they want. Letting the story 'write itself', ifykyk. There's no real eloquent way for me to put this, but I think the easiest way to put my thought process while writing waxing moon is:

"ok how do i do the silly haha before traumatizing the shit outta my readers. and the reader. and aventurine."

wait...that's not quite right either (and also my thoughts obviously got a shitload darker than that). Actually, now that I think about it, I should've started with this. if there's a single quote I had to point to that singlehandedly influenced my writing, it's this:

"The longer and more carefully we look at a funny story, the sadder it becomes." - Nikolai Gogol

so...while i of course don't strictly adhere to this (since writing must fit its rhetorical situation), it's something I really love to do and try to do often. even if it's just a single sentence, a single word...to interject something of amusement is to give levity and a smile. but in the right circumstances, amusement becomes twisted, and even used against you. you read of a man's suffering, to which there is a single quip that has you smiling; and then, do you stop? do you stop to think: 'do I smile at this man's misery?' in other words, amusement, or 'funny things' in a story has a wide variety of uses. my favorite way to use it is to place it in a situation where it feels like it just shouldn't be there but is; and at the moment it feels like a relief, but of course, the narrative still continues. and that single moment of normalcy, of levity, it then highlights the absurdity, horror, etc. of the rest of the narrative.

but i also enjoy writing scenes where there's a strong sense of hopelessness and fatality looming over.

with my yan fics, I sort of wanna make my reader feel like both the spectator but also be in the story; I don't think this is a particular novel thing amongst us yan authors, but it's something I try to keep in mind and adhere to. I want them to feel unsettled, happy, amused, etc. But most importantly, with these stories, I want to leave them with a sort of confusion. to read a story so, so twisted, yet with a brutal softness to it...i just love it when fiction gives me complicated feelings about something, and it's something I hope to at least partially emulate lmao

idk. ig that wasn't really talking about my thought process in exact, but that's the closet thing I can come up with. metacognition hard.

(side note: i don't actually read gogol, but I am interested in at least reading the 'overcoat'. it seems to include the themes of mundanity that I just love *mwah* but I'm also too lazy to go ahead and download a pdf or something. Plus. i found a book called legends and lattes where an ogre starts a coffee shop in a fantasy realm. it looks great and I'm getting my hands on it as soon as I can)

physics isn't actually terrible, i just don't understand it. i have no clue how I got an A in physics. but I've also been really good at bullshitting reports while also not actually bullshitting them. and I can't really make fun of people who listen to physics stuff recreationally. i just finished a video about why 37 keeps appearing everywhere, from my refrigerator to my gacha games. and I'm currently chipping away at quinton review's nickelodeon retrospect. and then amateur politic theory and media analysis.

so in a way im making fun of both you and me, and you know what they say: two negatives make a positive.

before i go into symbolism: I would like to say a personal belief of mine:

although the answers i give may be the 'official symbolisms' and 'meanings', still feel free to read this fic with whatever lens of interpretation you want! if anything, it can be said that the 'official' meanings are also just another interpretation of the text. beauty is the in the eye of the beholder. anyway, moving onwards:

mmm, sorta? i originally intended to use the tower throughout, but those scenes got cut for pacing reasons, but I decided to keep the tower metaphor just as a sort of way to characterize reader.

specifically, the tower symbolizes 'stability.' reader wants to live a normal life, a modest but stable one. I've mostly based in on the 'Tower' arcana (but let's make it clear: my understanding of the arcana is a superficial understanding of a superficial understanding lmao)

ripping from the persona wiki because of my laziness:

but yeah, keep in mind that the reader isn't a one-and-one interpretation of the tower arcana. but I think you can definitely see the correlations lmao.

however the 'stability' of that tower is definitely dependent on their mental state which....well...

eh, i'm sure it'll work out....ehehehe......

this is probably something i should've clarified a bit more, but I decided against it at the time since I wrote this assuming the reader read destroyed onset; basically, I've carried over the 'ink' metaphor from it. it's actually pretty simple: ink is just 'fear,' but an especially potent one. thick and slimy, oozing its way down your back and just being nasty in general......a fear that may come to drown and burn you.

again, i probably should've been more clear, esp in this fic, but I when I was writing onset, I made it a bit more vague since I thought it was just. way too obvious and didn't want to feel like I was directly telling my readers and spoonfeeding them symbolize like they're toddlers. i was basically worried that I might've not been trusting y'all enough 😭 I wouldn't say that this series is like some. super duper cryptic puzzle you'll have to study for years to understand, but ofc I don't want to make it too easy, otherwise it's not as fun to pick and prod at the details and think about a fic if it's just too "obvious," at least to me.

Yeah, and i can see why. im not gonna go on a psychoanalysis tangent or anything, but since so many of us fantasize about a yandere for the idea of being wanted or....or just not having to work or pay for rent....it's definitely really easy to indulge in it in a romantic aspect.

i personally sort of love these sort of outcomes though, because the psyche of it all is so interesting! and deliciously messed up. similarly to the great @/jessamine-rose, I too love myself a twisted happy ending (as one can tell from how much I think about that gogol quote lmao)

predicted his twilight looking ass, and also fulfilling my life long dream of telling a stranger some weird twilight book

"da skinn of a keeler" (im sorry)

also i have not read twilight. but my friend also has a gun, so it's only a matter of time before I'm held to gunpoint by her

😏

i have abided by these wise words. i thought I included them, but I didn't. and also the second banner. anyways, moving forward, I defo won't be forgetting to do this. and I've also gone back to onset and added the word count there so as not to spook anyone too badly.

ty! 🥺🥺🥺🥺

(fr tho all of these asks, comments....unparalleled rizz I say)

#speckled answers #unlawfully #yeah the police are at my house sorry guys #looks like i'll just have to type with my hands shackled in chains #destroyed onset #waning moon

[waltwhitmansbeard]

"you think this is me avoiding you? this?" Empire SIblings

"you think this is me avoiding you? this?"

Caleb has had enough. He's used to Beau being a bitch, but he is over this caginess, these half-answers and dodged questions. It's fine if she can't talk about what she's working on—the gods know that both of them have enough on their plates without risking an ethics investigation—but all she has to do is tell him so.

He teleports directly into her office, where she is not. Fine by him. He's not a snoop—well, he is, but not with his friends—so he will sit in the spare chair wedged between her overflowing filing cabinet and the corner of the desk so hopelessly disorganized that Caleb imagines not even the most skilled thief could find what they were looking for, and he will wait.

Three hours and thirty-one minutes. That is how long Caleb sits in silence until the door whips open with a loud, "If I wanted your opinion, Baltric, I'd pull it out of your ass like all the rest of your ideas." Beau strides in, slams the door behind her, and freezes, seeing Caleb smiling patiently in the corner. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I missed you too, Beauregard." He gestures toward her desk chair. "Won't you join me?"

He's not going to lie, it's fun, watching her desire to sit down war with her intense opposition to being told what to do. She crosses her arms. "You aren't supposed to be in here."

"Yet here I am. We need to talk."

He so rarely takes this kind of tone with her, and she knows that, so after a few more moments of truly worrisome teeth-clenching, she stalks over and throws herself into her chair. "What is it? I'm kind of busy."

Caleb reaches into an inner pocket of his coat and pulls out a folded sheet of common parchment, which he tosses onto her desk. "This is the last communication I have from you, dated three days ago."

Beau picks it up, opens it, and says, "Yeah, no shit. I wrote it." She drops it back down. "And?"

"I am tired of your avoiding me."

Her eyes narrow in that way that suggests she thinks he's stupid. "What the...this?" She picks up the letter again, gives it a shake. "You think this is me avoiding you? This?" She opens the letter and begins to read. "Caleb, sorry for the delay, work's been crazy as fuck, plus Veth keeps bothering me with that conspiracy theory about the goddamn moon—"

"I am familiar with the contents of the letter. I have it memorized."

"Then explain to me how a...seven paragraph letter could possibly be construed as me avoiding you."

"Because you say absolutely nothing in it."

Beau sits back in her chair. "What are you talking about?"

"You tell me of Yasha and your foster daughter and the feud you are having with the new archivist, and you recommend two new books—both of which do seem very much up my alley, so to speak, and I am excited to read them—but as has been the case with all communication from you for months now, you are utterly silent on the topic of work. So a man is left to make guesses, and my most educated one is that you are working on something about which you would like me to remain in the dark." He smiles pleasantly. "Do I have about the long and short of it?"

She's chewing on the inside of her lip, so Caleb's knows he's got her. Her nostrils flare, because she hates being known so well when it's used against her. Her fingers drum a frenetic pattern atop her cluttered desk. "Yeah. So what?"

Caleb shrugs. "Why?"

"Fuck, Caleb, you know there are things I can't talk about, even with a friend to the Archive—"

"I do know this. I do not ask why you can't speak of things. I ask why you didn't tell me." Her eyes dart away, and for the first time, something cold slithers down Caleb's spine. "Is it me? Am I under the Cobalt Soul's investigative eye?"

"No, I...fuck." She starts to dig around on her desk, tossing papers and pens and other detritus of her work all about until she extracts a thick folder from the bottom, which she tosses to land in Caleb's lap.

He hesitates. "I don't wish to read something not meant for my eyes. I'm not asking you to compromise your integrity—"

"Just fucking open it."

He complies. It takes a few moments to understand what he's looking at. "This...this is Trent Ikithon's file."

"Yes."

He flips through a few pages. "These are the court records, and my testimony."

"Yes."

"And this..." He stops at a page, his mouth going dry. "This is a petition for a new investigation into his conviction."

Her voice is so quiet he almost doesn't hear her. "Yes."

Caleb looks up at her, the edges of his vision going spotty. "I do not understand."

"It's not from us. We're....The Soul just digs shit up. We expose it. But we're not an authority. We don't have any kind of say in what happens to the people we reveal to be shitheads. And apparently, Ikithon has some kind of legal right to appeal his conviction. So now all of our investigatory work is being called into question."

"Including my testimony."

"Including everything."

He gently closes the folder. "And what is the potential outcome of this...appeal?"

Beau jabs a finger down into her desk. "There is only one outcome, and that's that sick son of a bitch rotting away in prison until he fucking croaks, miserable and forgotten and alone. That's it. End of story."

Caleb nods. There is a cold, hollow spot in the center of his chest, growing, spreading outward through his ribs. "I understand." He stands, places the folder atop her many piles, and straightens his coat. "Thank you for your time, Beauregard."

Beau shoves herself out of her chair. "No, Caleb, hang on—"

Whatever she's going to say, he doesn't hear her. He teleports away, back to safety, back to place where the world can't touch him. And in the tight arcane pulling and stretching, where for the briefest moment, he ceases to be, he lets himself fall.

#ask #Anonymous #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #mighty nein #mighty nein fic #empire kids #empire kids fic #my fic

[irlwakko]

OKAY my thoughts on the punishments that Mal gave all of the alters in Total Drama All Stars! Because @fraudulent-cheese asked and I've been waiting YEARS for someone to ask me about my theories!

(Disclaimer: I know the writers probably didn't put this much thought into this. I know that I'm being one of Those Total Drama fans and I categorically Don't Care because I have so much fun thinking about this.)

The reason I use the word "punishments" first of all is that 1. I need an easy name to call them to group them all together and 2. I do genuinely believe these are punishments Mal gives the alters as revenge for forcing him into dormancy. Because I ALSO think that Mal scaled them to how much he hated/blamed that particular alter.

(As an aside, there's a LOT to be said about Mal spending a formative period of time in juvie and then modeling his punishment for the alters after a jail, as Manitoba says. I wish we knew more about Mal's time in juvie so I could talk about this more.)

The first person we see is Mike, who's just all alone surrounded by (it seems like) miles and miles of nothingness. And I think his punishment is the worst, but we'll circle back to him.

Chester's punishment is really obvious: he's stuck selling skateboards because it's a symbol of the youth nowadays, which he absolutely hates. There's also something to be said for the fact that Chester's working a retail job, wherein you have to be constantly standing, and we know Mal took away Chester's mobility aid (which he had in the innerworld in Season 4 and did not have in Season 5). He probably didn't think Chester was capable of escape, but also put him in a position where he'd eventually become so physically incapacitated that he COULDN'T escape.

And ALSO, to skip ahead a little (sorry I have a lot of thoughts on this), Mal knew that even if everyone began to escape, Chester's legs would give out long before they reached the tower (which requires five people to enter). Mal was counting on the assumption that the others would leave Chester behind once he became unable to walk (more on this later!)

Second up is Svetlana, and though I don't know why Mal picked fish, I know why he picked butter: simple, because Svetlana's a gymnast. You can't do gymnastics if your hands are covered in butter. Being unable to do gymnastics would not only physically incapacitate her but also completely demoralize her. More than the physical impediment, the hopelessness of the situation would keep her from escape. I also think the reason he kept Svetlana under such close surveillance (the ears everywhere) was because he knew he might need physical control of her in the future (which we see when he forces her to co-front in order to fight off Alejandro).

Third is Vito, and Vito is my FAVORITE of these because his "punishment" isn't a punishment at all. It plays to all of his strengths! We already know that Vito loves attention; he would love to perform. Secondly, it's obvious by his reaction to his own joke that he REALLY enjoys cheesy jokes. Third-- and this is where I go from reaching to REALLY reaching, but bear with me-- in a very literal sense, Mal chose Vito as the mouthpiece through which he can speak to the rest of the system (the puppet is the only way we see Mal communicate with the alters, outside of the mirror he uses to talk to Mike, and only once).

Also, on rewatching the full scene to write this post, I wanna say two things I noticed: first, Vito seems... not all that surprised that the puppet can talk. He does clarify that he "didn't say nothin'" after puppet-Mal starts to talk, but he's mostly startled that it flew into the air and caught on fire. Everyone screams in terror when the puppet starts talking except Vito. Maybe Mal communicated more with Vito than we saw on camera. Mal must sleep, but we never see him sleeping, so it could totally happen then (<- completely delusional). And second, especially compared to everyone else, Vito doesn't seem all that enthusiastic. His exact words are "Woah, uh, sure" (in comparison to Chester's "I'm with ya", Svetlana's "hoorah!", and Manitoba's "took ya long enough"). It seems like he mostly just follows along because that's where his "audience" is going and also because he wants to find the club district.

So finally Manitoba! It seems like, besides Mal, Manitoba's the alter who feels the most animosity towards Mike, so it's understandable that he'd give Manitoba the job of destroying Mike's dreams (besides the fact Manitoba has lasso skills, I also think any other alter would probably refuse.) (Also, I think Manitoba's the gatekeeper/dreamkeeper/etc. of the system, so he'd be the one with easiest access to the dreams, but all the reasons I think THAT is a different essay for a different day.)

Also, like Vito, Manitoba's "punishment" actually plays to his strengths instead of to his dislikes and weaknesses, so like Vito, I think Mal doesn't feel too much hatred towards Manitoba either. Also understandable! Because it seems like Manitoba has a lot of the same criticisms of the system's inner workings as Mal does.

So what ARE the criticisms Mal has? They show through at the very start and very end of the journey-- how Mal punishes Mike, and how Mal sets up the guard tower.

(By the way, just for the record, I HATE the reset button. But for this post, let's accept the reset button as canon fact.)

The system has been Mike's coping mechanism and support system for as long as Mike can remember. And as much as Mike hates to admit it pre-season-5, he DOES need them. In Season 4, he got through situations that would've been impossible for him to navigate without Vito and beat challenges that would've been impossible to surmount without Svetlana and Manitoba (and he loves Chester too, even if he isn't always the most outwardly useful). That's not even to mention the emotional support (as shown by Svetlana's "Mike is the best" pep talk in Season 5) that he probably received from them over the years as well. As much as he hated them, they're so important to him.

The worst possible punishment Mal can inflict is cutting off all of his access to that support system.

To be fair, he did this to all the other alters too. But for Mike, it was the only thing he did. He felt that taking Mike away from the alters on its own would be enough to incapacitate and demoralize him. And he probably knew that it would prove a point-- you need them. You need us. And now it's too late.

But keep this in mind-- when Mal went into dormancy, he left behind a system that was constantly fighting amongst itself for control, that couldn't agree on anything (except for getting rid of him), and was bickering every time they interacted. So this is the lens that Mal constructs his prison with.

He doesn't count on the system working together! What he hopes for is that, even if one of them managed to escape, they 1. wouldn't bother looking for the others and would try to do everything themselves, which would leave them shut out of the tower, and 2. even once they did realize they needed to gather up everyone else, they would be too distracted by infighting to actually do anything to take him down.

And that's probably what season 4 Mike-- the Mike that Mal knew-- would've tried to do. He wasn't counting on the fact that the system would now be working towards functional multiplicity by the time he came out of dormancy! And it caused them to defeat him much sooner than he would've anticipated.

(Quick note: I know integration =/= death in DID, but I used the term "kill" here in some places because I feel like that's how Mal would view it. Literally none of this has anything to do with accurate DID because Total Drama is so so inaccurate and the absolute worst.)

Also, here's a theory I like: I don't think Mal would've just built a self-destruct button on his own life. He wouldn't build a button capable of killing him and then put it in a place where someone else could access it, even if the chances (in his mind) of them accessing it would be really remote. So I think the button was set up in such a way that whoever pressed it would become the core. It wasn't truly intended to be used by anyone except Mal. It was a final failsafe measure. Even if the system managed to work together long enough to free each other, reach the tower, and ascend the stairs, Mal was hoping that-- upon realizing that this button could give any of them the life they so desperately wanted as of pre-Season-4, and that if anyone but them pressed it, it would kill them-- the alters would return to squabbling, fighting for their lives, for long enough for Mal to intercede and ultimately take control. Just like Mal never counted on them working towards functional multiplicity, he also never counted on them being able to agree upon integration.

Why didn't Mal just press the button at the first opportunity? I don't know. Dramatic villainous timing? Lingering feelings of affection for the other alters? Perchance.

Anyway. I know TDAS is a horribly written season in literally every other aspect, and also that the writers probably didn't put THIS level of thought into things, but I read too deep into Total Drama as a hobby so I will be putting this much thought into it forever and ever and ever. :)

#i am NOT putting this in the main tags they do NOT need to know i live like this #but feel free to reblog

[yellowloid]

hey! i was sort of reading “something to rely on” lyrics, and i remembered that you analyse some of miles, monkeys and tlsp songs. so, i just wanted to ask what are your thoughts on this song, cause i particularly think it’s about alex or some of it. anyway, other songs from cdg can be fully about alex, but barely no one talks about this one, so i thought it’d be great to discuss about it.

there’s also “adios tara tara” that i also think it’s about alex, as other songs from change the show, but that’s for another time! i also love your blog, your fanfics and song analysis, they’re always really good! 🫶

sooo first of all sorry for being this late lmao this is kinda embarrassing because this ask was sent MONTHS ago maybe almost a year ago it was so long ago i literally don't remember. i'm only just answering now BUT better late than never i guess skgshdfh

(as usual don't take this too seriously lmao this is just a silly theory, i'm in no way implying it's the truth. it's just delusion o'clock)

now, if you follow me you know what i think of coup de grace as an album - and that is, the fact that it's soooo about alex it's crazy like. bro was so angry and in love and heartbroken????? and he wrote a literal masterpiece of an album????? that's iconic if you ask me

so to no one's surprise, let's follow the usual theory - them having some sort of falling out after eycte because of miles getting serious and alex consequently chickening out, which led to Peak Gay Drama Year, also known as 2018, when they both release albums that - more or less explicitly - contain images that could easily be interpreted as references to each other. something to rely on is no exception:

"crescent moon, left in my drive / all too soon, you made your point"

the reference to the moon creates a pattern, since the semantic field of astral entities is also present in songs such as killing the joke, with "interstellar, dressed in leather, drinking bitter boy" - which as we all know is one of miles' most direct lines when it comes to referencing alex, and it can easily be linked to am's own space-themed album, which miles definitely got to listen before its official release date.

opening the song with a reference to the moon could be a way of @ a certain someone, letting him know that yes, this song *is* in fact about him, if he didn't get the other billion hints in the whole album. (however, for the sake of keeping it vague, i won't be referring to him directly but rather to a ~mysterious person~) (i'm sure you get my point tho *wink wink*) [gunshots]

mentioning the moon could also be a way of referencing the ever-present theme of nighttime encounters in the entirety of mk/am/tlsp's discography: sometimes those encounters are described as fun, sometimes they mean trouble; sometimes, they leave the people involved with a sense of guilt and/or shame, on which we'll come back later and which often leads to bad decisions ("all too soon, you made your point"). in this particular case, the first image that comes to my mind is someone leaving sneakily after a (series of) one-night stands, with the song obviously being from the pov of the person being left, who also gives us a reason why they think the other person left:

"keeping off the radar, how does that make you feel? / keeping it clean, through all the things you wanted me to be / out of touch, with all the rumors i keep hearing of you / keeping off the radar, how does that make you feel?"

this person doesn't seem to want other people to know about their affair, and that's why they keep it secret; it seems that they want miles to be something he's not, or something he can't be - or maybe they ask all these things of themselves, which would maybe make it easier for them to accept the relationship going public. this person wants to keep it neat and clean, picture-perfect and fitting to everything everyone expects from them; but as much as they try to stay lowkey and not attract attention, the narrator informs us that no matter how much this person tries to hide, there's still rumors going around about them, as an individual as well as their relationship(s) with other people, most likely with the narrator too.

"all aboard the guilt train / last call before we leave / last call before we learn to love / the last call before we leave"

the line referring to guilt is insanely queer-coded and i will die on this hill because it just SCREAMS internalised homophobia, with which the other person might be struggling. it wouldn't make sense otherwise - because what would that person feel guilty about, if it were a straight-passing relationship? unless it was a cheating situation, of course... but it could be a cheating situation AND also a queer one, with this person being in another (het) relationship while having a same-sex lover (the narrator), which would give that line a double explanation. also every time i listen to this song i just can't help but think about 'all aboard the kane train' WHAT WHO SAID THAT

however, the narrator tells us that this is the "last call before we leave" - meaning, he's giving this person an ultimatum to make up their mind and decide if they want to be with him for real or not, since the latter possibility would result in him leaving - not necessarily for good, but... just trying to get over that person once and for all. at the same time, though, it's also the "last call before we learn to love" - which is incredibly soft imo, because it's him still putting trust and hope into that person and a positive decision on their part. he believes they will eventually choose to be with him, he hopes for it and trusts the other person to make the right decision, which would lead to them being together and learning how to love each other without limits nor second-guesses. the repetition of the leaving line could also be seen as a way for him to give it a new meaning compared to the first one: if they ended up together, they could leave that world based on nasty rumors and appearances, ignoring them all to just be happy together. because, after all, miles declares it openly:

"you're all that i wanted / all that i need / you're all that i wanted / you're all that i need"

i mean. does this even need an explanation. bro is down BAD

"something to rely on / something to get high on / i don't want to beg or steal, i don't want to borrow hearts / i just want to make it real / something to rely on / the making of a mystery, wishing on a falling star / i don't want to let this sadness rule my heart / your actions from the start / in spite of me insightfully inviting me to fall apart"

i left the chorus last because imo it captures perfectly the whole vibe of the song and what i think is miles' outlook on life in general: the narrator wants something stable and secure, an established relationship with the other person; he doesn't want to have to beg and argue and make it more complicated than it probably already is, he doesn't want to be a pastime or just some lover. he wants something thrilling and intense, almost addictive - but most importantly, he wants something real. this complicated situation with the other person is making them both suffer, and the other person's behaviour doesn't make it any easier; but in spite of everything, and in spite of his sense of self-preservation, he still finds himself unable and unwilling to resist them, to let them go for good. and no matter how self-destructive this might be, he doesn't want to be ruled by negative emotions; he's already fallen for them, too deep to even consider letting them go. he just keeps falling, and yeah, the outcome of their situationship might still be a mystery, but he chooses to be hopeful - "wishing on a falling star", bringing the song to a circular end by mentioning other astral entities that inevitably remind us of the "crescent moon" that opens the song. which also evokes the idea of circularity that is typical of situationships like the one described here, where the moment he seems to have made up his mind (or maybe the other person finally did?) it's like rinse and repeat, and once again they're back to square one.

#there is an underlying sense of masochism running through the whole album #him coming back to that person no matter how much they're hurting him #but there's also so much love there - he keeps coming back bc he knows that person is suffering just as much as he is #and he wants to put a stop to this useless arguments and tears and complicated feelings and just. get to be with them #because he loves them and he knows they love him just as viscerally and he wants nothing but for them to finally be happy together #which is also the exact message that comes from 'wrong side of life' and that is one of the many reasons why i adore that song #THE best miles song! #but the whole album is literally amazing i love it so much he's such a king #anyway sorry again for being so late ajxjsjfkskf and thank u for all the lovely things you said about my blog/theories/fics 🥺💖💖 #miles kane #coup de grace #am i tagging this as you know what. am i #...............mmmmmyeah i think i will #milex #something to rely on #my theories #once again don't take this too seriously it's just a theory i know nothing about them #all i know is they're obsessed with each other AND they were fucking raw xx #somebody sedate me! #answered

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Fluff ☼

Angst ►

Smut *

Steve's sister ☼

Steve takes care of you when you're sick

Confessions ☼

You and Steve have a conversation after being drugged by the Russians

Harrington ☼

The weather is worse than you expected, but luckily Steve is there to save you

Mess with you

Tommy and Carol don't like you and make fun of you for it, but Steve doesn't plan to sit idly by

Warm ☼

Steve accidentally throws you in the pool and lets you wear his clothes to apologize

Lip balm ☼ gn!reader

In a study session, Eddie learns that lips balms have flavor. Although of course, he does not only keep the theory

Maybe I miss you a little ►(☼)

You and Eddie broke up a long time ago, but when the going gets tough you realize it was all a mistake

Just keep driving *

The boys find Eddie's sketchpad and accidentally see one that brings back too many memories for him.

Only bad dreams ►☼

You and your friends escaped The Upsidedown, but you're having trouble sleeping and Eddie wanna help

Eddie the Banished (Byers!reader) ☼

Eddie helps you have a great time with your little brother

Eddie the Banished part 2 (Byers!reader) ☼

You wonder if you're ready to take the next step with Eddie and when you try it all goes wrong

Discoveries (or Eddie the banished part. 3) (Byers!reader) ☼

You and Eddie are finally dating, but after that a chain of unexpected events is unleashed, including one related to your brother Will [greatwise in this]

For Eddie ►

You realize how difficult life is without him by your side

Green fields

You spend precious time with Eddie and Dustin before the final battle

86, baby! ☼

Eddie finally graduates

Old friends ☼ (adult!Eddie)

It's been years since you were last in Hawkins and when you come back you get into one of those dating activities. Who would have thought that love had always been so close

Complicated freak ►(☼)

You and Eddie have broken up and when he realizes he's going to lose you for good, he decides to do more than just write a song about you

Preppy girl ☼

Eddie doesn't see you for years and when you come back to Hawkins you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. It doesn't take long for him to start kissing you

Rescuing you ► (vamp!Eddie)

Eddie came back to you, but not in the way you expected. Now it will be necessary to help him come back as your real boy

Parties and exes ☼

Eddie sees you talking to your ex and doesn't miss the opportunity to mark his territory

Hair emergencies ☼

After a stupid thing that Eddie did to his hair, only you can help him

Calmly ►

Eddie is dead reluctant to talk about anything after what happened on the upside down. Luckily you are patient with him and find something perfect to know how he feels without him saying a word

Ahoy! ☼

In some timeline, Starcourt didn't burn down and Eddie was able to go to work selling ice cream. He and Steve make a little bet, from which Eddie comes out happy

Pretty metal ☼

You try to find the perfect birthday present for Eddie. He asks for a kiss, but he never said under what circumstances you had to give it to him

Safe place ►☼

After a bad day, Eddie Munson's arms seem to be the best place to be

Why'd you only call me when you're high? ►

based on the song of the same name

That first meeting ☼

thanks to a school dynamic of introductions you end up finding your ideal boy

I hate you (rivals to lovers) ►☼

you and Eddie Munson know exactly how you feel about each other. Until a moment changes everything and you embark on a journey of discovery about your relationship

D20 ☼

Eddie and Max play an innocent game that inevitably ends up focusing on you

Queen ☼

Eddie hates the sudden crush you're having for a celebrity and when you find out why it turns out to be the cutest thing in the world

A couple of curious cousins (tozier!reader) ☼ (►)

Mike gets a visit from a couple of cousins from Maine and their friends. Eddie gets a date, but the resident monsters of Derry and Hawkins don't hesitate to make an appearance… or something like that [a little bit of Blyer and Reddie]

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4