#I'm trying something different with the style

[sushirrrry]

READ PART ONE - CASA AMOR - HERE

PART TWO | CRASH OUT || a harry styles x you fic. word count: 4,935 content warning: tension & arguments & love island antics

summary: you and harry were the strongest couple in the villa, until the recoupling after casa amor. now, with some time to talk, you learn more things were happening in casa than what you had seen prior.

author's note: y'all loved this so much (which I did not think you would???) so I just had to write a little something today - this will ultimately be a short series because it's pretty easy to write once you get into it! I have another part that I cut from this one because I figured it's more fun to have more stories to post, so keep an eye out for that <3 I'm trying a few different ways to write it to make it feel like you're watching it but also feel a bit more story-like! also - wrote a character list at the top for your info!

hope you guys enjoy <3

Tonight on Love Island: Here is your breakdown after the recoupling...

You are Single | Luca is Single | Megan is Single | Tash and Harry | Ella and Johnny | Megan and Ronan | Tiana and Liam | Jess and Mitch

{In the Villa}

You go to sit with Luca on one of the low couches near the beanbags, your heels click together as you walk across the pavement. Your knees tucked up beneath you when you sat, a half-empty glass of water balanced between your palms. The night is thick with that strange, quiet buzz that happens when everyone’s pretending that they’re okay.

Luca watches you for a second before going to say anything; he pauses and gives you a reassuring smile.

“Y’alright?” he asks you, making conversation light.

You give him a small smile but nothing more, because you don’t really know how to feel but don’t want to show that to him immediately. “Don’t know really, just feel a bit betrayed.”

He nods in understanding. “Didn’t expect that, you know. Him walking back with her—like I was just under the impression that he was going to test it in Casa, but I figured that you would have had that conversation beforehand, y’know what I mean?”

You shrug, not having anything else to say, “Neither did I—and that’s why I’m fuming, Luca, it’s almost like he was waiting for the opportunity to leave.”

Silence hangs for a moment; you wonder if Luca knows something more, but isn’t saying it, so you allow there to be a space held for that conversation.

Harry and Luca are good mates, but you two have always had an open communication – he’s kind, he’s funny, he’s been choosing girls that aren’t choosing him back so you both feel relatively on the same page at the moment.

Tiana and Luca were coupled prior to Casa, but she had chosen Liam instead – it was for the best, seeming that they were getting along quite better than her and Luca had prior. That left you both single in the villa now, and given a certain opportunity, it may be best to try and explore the connection to make sure that you’re safe.

“I just thought…” Luca hesitates for a moment, shrugging as his arm gets placed around the seat where you’re sitting, “Like, if anyone was gonna make it through Casa, it was you two, so it’s a real twist in the villa now.”

You press your lips together, slowly letting your lower lip press further into your mouth as you start to gnaw on it softly. You know that your lip gloss is being smudged, but you’re not sure that you can just listen to Luca tell you all of the good parts about you and Harry.

You just respond with, “Yeah. Me too.”

“He talked about you a lot before he left, said you grounded him. Said it felt different with you—dunno, obviously he kept choosing you and you kept choosing him.”

You look over, surprised at Luca’s comments and allowing them to settle on you for a moment. “I mean it’s all talk though, isn’t it? He still brought her back.”

Luca nods, taking a sip of his drink before he adds, “I mean, but then… I dunno. Something changed. Tash walked into Casa and it was like—”

He stops himself for a minute, realizing he may have over-spoke. His voice got quiet, and he looked back up at you for a moment.

“Like what?” you ask, though you’re not sure you want the answer. You squint at him softly, trying to act like you don’t need the information that may be withheld. “Go on—I need to know if he’s still not being honest.”

Luca exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Like, I heard him make a comment where he wanted to remind himself that he could still pull, ‘cause I guess you two have been a thing since the beginning and it was just a game to him, or something. To pull Tash.”

“Did he say that?” You ask quickly, almost in awe of the fact that Luca would say that so openly, like he had been holding it in. The words slam into your chest at a frequency you weren’t aware of

Harry acted like what you had wasn’t real — just something to trade in for a quick ego boost and a pretty girl in Casa, which is exactly what he had been doing without you around.  Your hands start to tremble around your glass you had been holding, so you moved it between palms to ensure Luca didn’t see your shake.

Luca clocks the shift in your face, noticing immediately that your disappointment may have turned into a bit of anger now.

“Shit,” he says quickly. “I—I mean I don’t think he did it with bad intentions or anything,”

“No, it’s fine,” you cut in, standing up too fast. “You’re right. It makes sense now.”

Luca seems to have a bit of panic that he spoke far too much, “Hey—”

“I’m gonna pull him and clear some things up.”

You don’t wait for Luca to respond. You feel the walls closing in and you need answers — real ones, not just polite excuses and hollow regret that he tried to express. You find Harry near the outdoor kitchen, talking with Tash, who’s pretending not to glance at you every five seconds.

Your heart’s thudding so hard between your rubs that you barely hear your own voice speak out to him.

“Harry,” you say firmly, giving him a look, “can I pull you for a chat quickly?”

He looks up at you with a bit of surprise crossed over his features, maybe even hopeful, and nods without a word before following you.

He follows you toward the fire pit, where the embers are still burning. You take a seat at the benches and tuck your dress under your knees before you cross your legs and let him settle for a minute before you take in a deep breath before you say what you need to say.

“So, I hear that you had told some people in Casa,” you start, voice calm but breaking beneath, “that you felt different with me. That I grounded you. That what we had was real.”

He nods, a hesitant caution over him as he started to nod a bit in agreement. “Yeah, that’s true, I did.”

“But then I’m also told that you needed some reminder,” you say, looking him straight in the eyes, “why did you need to remind yourself that you could still pull?”

The color drains from his face when you keep speaking with a confidence; his eyes glance quickly away from you which is all that you need to know. You don’t even wait for his answer before continuing.

“Because that’s what you told the boys in Casa, isn’t it? That you walked into Casa, and you let yourself forget everything we had. Just so you could prove you still had game, and that pulling Tash was some kind of game to you. So, is it a connection or is it a game?”

Harry opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He licks over his lips and blinks a few times at the ground before he knits his brows together to try and come to a conclusion, but you can tell… he has nothing else to say.

You shake your head, blinking fast to keep the tears from falling.

“For the record, I was never holding you back, Harry. You didn’t need to pull. You just needed to stay.”

He shakes his head and opens his mouth to speak again, trying to reach for your hand. You pull back almost like his hand was on fire.

“I need to know if this was ever real for you. Or if I was just something steady until someone shinier walked in, because if that’s the case, I’m not even mad—I’m just over it and done.”

Harry’s mouth opens like he wants to argue — like he’s searching for some excuse to protect himself.

“I can understand that what you’re hearing may be hurtful, but that’s not fair,” he says, voice clipped. “You’re twisting it into something different than what it was.”

You blink slowly. “Am I? That’s not what it sounds like from what I’m hearing—unless you’re just lying.”

Harry runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. His jaw is clenched, his chest rising and falling faster and you can tell that he’s trying to make sense of it all.

“I didn’t plan to connect with her, alright? It wasn’t like that. It was just—Casa messes with your head, and I was making a joke about the fact that I hadn’t really pulled girls in the villa since you and I were so strong—it had nothing to do with our connection or the fact that I was bored.”

“Well, you kissed her in the Hideaway,” you say flatly, arms folded across your stomach like you’re trying to hold yourself together. “You don’t just end up there by accident, and I think it sounds a lot more than just pulling for the game.”

He exhales sharply, turning back to you. His voice rises a little.

“I was trying to figure it out! Everyone was telling me to explore, test things. I didn’t want to look like an idiot if you’d cracked on, too, which I know you did.”

You laugh once, short and disbelieving as you squint at him. “So, you did it to protect yourself—called her naughty and trouble.”

He hesitates for a moment; you can tell that he doesn’t want to lie, but doesn’t want to make anything worse, and then, softer: “Yeah. Maybe I did. I don’t think it’s that big of a deal here. I always had the intention of coming back to you here.”

That silence after his words lands like a brick. You look at him, and for a second, just a second, he sees it. The way your lip trembles at his words, and the way that your eyes are glassy with the recognition that he had hurt you. The way you’re so tired of fighting for something he already threw away. You don’t even know if you want to fight for it anymore.

Harry softly closes his eyes as he shakes his head and rests his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t—I’m just sorry. What we had wasn’t made up or fake or whatever—these past weeks weren’t just thrown away.”

You nod once, solidified in his statement with a simple statement of your own. “It might not’ve been fake. But it stopped being real the second you let her kiss you.”

That hits him almost like a bullet, so he breathes in slowly. And something in him starts to fold.

“I didn’t stop thinking about you,” he says, voice is soft to keep it between you both as he shakes his head as if he can’t believe that you’re having this conversation. “Even when I was with her, even when I was doing all that stupid flirting —"

You look at him, and for a moment you’re not angry anymore.

“You knew it would hurt me,” you whisper staring at your hands, “and you did it anyway.”

Harry’s eyes shine. “I know. I know I did. And—and I was selfish.”

“I don’t even know how to be mad anymore,” you murmur, staring at the ground. “I feel stupid. And empty. And I don’t want to cry over someone who didn’t choose me.”

Harry moves towards you on the bench, looking down at you before he lets his shoulders drop.

“I did choose you—I always chose you, but” he says, quietly desperate. “I just… didn’t respect you, and I’m sorry.”

You look at him through blurred eyes, but you can’t let the tears fall because you don’t want to give it more energy than it’s worth anymore. “Then why does it feel like you didn’t?”

He doesn’t have an answer for you, so he looks away with his tail between his legs and wants to speak but decides against it. You press your fingers under your eyes to not ruin your makeup, swallowing a sob as you look away from him.

And neither of you says anything more. Because maybe for the first time since this whole thing began, he understands that he broke something he might not be able to put back together. The silence has stretched too long as you sit there.

Harry is still crouched next to you but keeps a look on his face that he still has more to say, lips parted like he might speak — but he doesn’t. You can feel it by the way that he rubs his palms over his pants and looks away. There’s still something he’s not saying. You blink slowly, jaw tight before you swallow.

“Did you sleep in the same bed as her?”

His eyes flick away for a split second, and that’s all you need. That was the confirmation that you needed.

“Harry,” you say, louder now, standing up. “Did you sleep in bed with her?”

Nothing-- there’s nothing for him to say because he’s not going to lie to you, which makes this feel even worse in the moment.

You let out a sharp breath and shake your head. “Right.”

And then, before he can move or follow or stop you, you stand quickly from your spot on the bench and walk across the patio, heels clicking against the pavement as you make your way back to where a smaller group sits.

The rest of the villa is scattered — Ella and Tiana are on some loungers by the pool, the boys are grouped near the kitchen, and Tash is sitting on the edge of a daybed, twisting her hair around her finger, laughing at something Mitch is saying.

She looks up just in time to see you walking straight for her. The air has a bit of a shift when you realize that the villa is watching you walk to her, angrily away from Harry. Harry starts to follow you when he realizes that you are going towards Tash, he stops in his tracks.

Tash’s smile towards Mitch drops when she sees you approaching.

“Hey,” she says, cautious. You don’t waste time; your time has been wasted enough these past few weeks.

“Did you and Harry sleep in the same bed in Casa?”

The villa goes dead silent, almost like everyone had been waiting for the ball to drop and for you to have some sort of crash out.

Tash blinks, sitting up softly like she’s trying to think about what she needs to say to make her not seem like the bad guy. “What?”

“It’s a simple question, Tash, really—I’m not here to bullshit you or be mad at you because I know you’re just coming into Casa, but I just have to know because while I was making connections in Casa I was being respectful and staying out of other men’s beds because I had already made a connection here, so I just want to know.”

Tash hesitates for a moment, glances past you — toward Harry, who’s now standing with Ella and Johnny near the kitchen. Then she lifts her chin with a confidence that you appreciate.

“Yeah,” she says, a bit meek but you disregard that. “We did—just the last two nights.”

You close your eyes for half a second before you realize that you have nothing to be mad about—he’s not yours anymore, and you don’t want him. The girls react instantly; Mitch looks between the two of you like he was just there to settle if something went down.

“What the fuck,” Ella mutters under her breath. She looks at Harry before he rolls his eyes and exhales like he couldn’t believe that this had become his life.

Mitch whistles, biting on his lip as he runs a hand down his face.

You nod once, like you’ve just confirmed something you already knew, “Cool—I appreciate the honesty.”

Then you turn to walk back to where Harry is standing with Ella and Johnny; Harry’s watching from a few feet away, face pale, jaw set. You meet his eyes with a hurt that you hadn’t really felt before.

“You couldn’t even say it,” you say, voice shaking. “You let her do it for you, you’re such a fucking bullshitter.”

Harry runs a hand through his hair, muttering, “It wasn’t like that.”

You fold your arms, raising your voice at him. “It was exactly like that. You cuddled up with her at night and kissed her in the Hideaway like I wasn’t lying in bed alone thinking about you so you can get your dick up? Fucking prick.”

You can see the guilt and the remorse that crosses his face because he knows exactly what you were referring to; you two had been intimate together, and while it was still Love Island, it still hurt to know that he had decided to lay in another bed with another girl doing who knows what.

But it’s not enough to watch him feel guilty. Instead, you walk back across the villa, past every stunned face, every wide eye, and back to the daybed where Tiana’s already holding a space for you to sit down, where you can keep your shoulders back and your chin high.

You might be heartbroken, but you are not small.

{NARRATOR}

Well, that escalated quickly, didn’t it? One question turned into a full-blown villa bombshell — and it looks like Harry has finally realized what it means to fumble the bag in front of everyone. Looks like the only thing he can pull now is his hair out!

The girls are gathered in the dressing room, the air heavy and quiet with some sort of exhaustion from the sun and complete heartbreak from the fact that this could have happened to any of them. It was just a half-circle of crossed legs, red-rimmed eyes, and half-sipped glasses of water nobody really wanted.

You’re sitting on the edge of a chair, fingers clenched in your lap, hair still half-curled from earlier when you thought tonight might be fun or you might feel better about your connection.

Ella’s next to you; Tiana’s perched on the counter; Jess sits with her back against the vanity; Megan is sat at her vanity space. With another beat, all of you watch as Tash walks in last.

There’s a pause — thick enough to cut. She stands in front of the group, eyes flicking between everyone, but then settling on you.

“Can I sit?” she asks, gently, almost like she was hoping you would just yell at her instead of being nice; it may make her feel less shitty about her experience, but instead you just nod once.

She lowers herself onto the bench across from you, tucking her legs beneath her.

“I just wanna say something, okay? No drama, just… girl to girl,” She looks around at everyone, her voice a bit weary as she starts to speak again.

You don’t respond. You’re staring at the floor, jaw tight, heart pounding at what else she could reveal to you.

“I didn’t come in trying to wreck anything,” Tash continues, “Y’know, I liked Harry. He was flirty, yeah, but he never mentioned you in a way that made it feel closed off—like I knew he was in a connection, but I guess he just flirted with me more than he should have.”

Jess shifts uncomfortably. Tiana shoots a look toward Ella, but no one says anything.

“And I get it now,” Tash says. “I didn’t realize how deep it was with you two. I wouldn’t have gone there if I knew, truly.” She swallows and licks over her lips as she shakes her head. “But I didn’t kiss him thinking I was stealing someone’s boyfriend, you know what I mean?”

Still, you say nothing. The room is quiet as they’re waiting for you to speak.

Tiana shakes her head instead before taking the initiative, “It’s just muggy, innit? Like he knew that was going to humiliate Y/N and did it anyways, you know.”

“I just think the bed thing was mad disrespectful,” Ella says with no disregard, “Like, just knowing the context of it all—I don’t know.”

“I just feel like an idiot,” you say shrugging before you look up at Tash, “It’s fine. It’s not your fault—I get he wanted to test our connection, and he did it.”

You glance around the room, eyes darting like you’re trying to make sense of your own place here.

“I just feel stupid for trusting him so effortlessly. For sleeping alone every night, for saying no to other boys while he was cuddled up with you.”

Ella scoots closer, her hand brushing your back.

“I thought we were solid. I thought we were the couple people looked at and went, ‘Yeah, they’re real.’ And now?” Your voice catches as you start to take your makeup off with a wipe to try and hide the fact that tears are threatening, “I feel like a joke.”

Tash looks genuinely upset by the fact that she could have done something wrong. “You’re not. Honestly, I wouldn’t have—”

“I know,” you cut in, gently but firmly as you look at her. “I know you didn’t do it to hurt me—please don’t take it personally.”

You take a deep breath, but it doesn’t steady you. “It just hurts anyway.”

The girls all stay quiet as they begin to get ready for bed, and they know sometimes silence is safer than platitudes. Jess leans over and grabs a tissue, handing it to you.

“You don’t owe anyone forgiveness tonight,” Ella says softly, almost privately. “Not him. Not her. You just do what you need.” She glances toward Tash who’s started to look through her items to get ready for bed. “And to be fair, she showed up. That means something.”

You nod again, but your voice is barely there now.

“I just need to not feel like I got played.”

Tiana leans over from the counter, “Then don’t – you just need to feel like a girl who gave her heart to someone who didn’t know how to hold it because he’s a lad.”

You press the tissue to your face and smile, just slightly. The first honest thing you’ve felt in hours.

+++

The night’s gone quiet now, most of the girls have disappeared into the dressing room with Y/N when she started to walk off. Tash is nowhere to be seen, either, which gives Harry a bit of anxiety if he’s being honest. The fire pit crackles low in the background.

Harry sits on one of the beanbags, hunched forward, elbows on his knees, palms scrubbing over his face. Luca lounges next to him, arms behind his head, watching him with a slow, almost sympathetic blink.

Mitch and Ronan are there too, passing a bottle of water back and forth. No one says anything at first, the only thing heard is Harry exhaling loudly.

“You alright, bruv?” Luca asks quietly before glancing over at Harry.

Harry doesn’t look up. “No. Not really.”

Ronan whistles low. “Yeah… that was rough.”

Mitch nods, stretching out. “She looked gutted, man. Like properly heartbroken.”

Harry finally sits back, dragging his hands down his face, “I didn’t think it would get that bad—I’m honest to God, I didn’t think that the bed thing would come up.”

Luca shrugs, letting an arm rest behind his head. “I don’t think you were thinking at all.”

That lands to hurt him like a jab, and Harry is silent.

Ronan, trying to soften the blow, leans forward and shakes his head to try and make sense of what Harry did, “Look, Casa was a head-fuck. You get in your own head. Everyone’s buzzing around saying ‘test the connection,’ and you start convincing yourself it’s what you should do—and to be fair, Tash came onto you very strongly.”

Mitch chimes in, “Yeah. Like, I see both sides. You didn’t do anything that loads of lads haven’t done in there. But—”

He glances toward the villa. “It seemed that you had something real with her, like more than that sexual chemistry, you know.”

Harry nods slowly, contemplating what he had in front of him. “I know.”

Luca gestures vaguely. “And Tash? I mean… she’s sound. Not the one you’ve been sleeping next to since day one. Not the one who never cracked on, either.”

Harry’s eyes flick up. “That’s the part that’s killing me, you know? I kept thinking, what if she was moving mad on her end? What if I came back looking like a mug?”

The boys know that there was the potential to have this moment; there had to be communication, and they knew that Harry felt just as guilty, but scared that he was going to come back to Y/N also testing the connection and keeping another guy there.

Ronan spoke up, “Mate, you came back with a girl. You can’t be shocked she’s stepped back at bit.”

Harry slumps back again, rubbing his chest like it physically aches. “I messed it. And now she’s looking at me like she doesn’t even know me.”

Luca shifts, arms crossed. “That’s what happens when you break someone’s trust. You don’t just get to explain it away.”

Harry nods again, slower this time. “I know.”

The boys sit with that for a moment.

Then Ronan, a little softer: “You think you’ll pull her back?”

Harry lets out a shaky breath, “I don’t know. I want to. I’d drop everything with Tash tonight if it meant I could fix it with her. But… I think she’s already gone in her head so I’m like… I don’t want to mess shit up with Tash now if it’s really over for us. Because Tash is mad cool too.”

Mitch leans back, sighing. “Well, if you want to try — you better show her something real. No more flirting, no more excuses. Show her you mean it.”

Harry looks down at his hands, quiet. For once, he doesn’t have a comeback. There’s no jokes or smirks coming from him as he feels the sting in the back of his eyes. He’s just a boy who fumbled the one person who made this villa feel like something more than just a game.

The villa buzz has faded into soft rustling — hairbrushes against tangles, toothbrushes tapping against sinks, and the occasional low whisper between couples slipping under the duvet.

You’re in the dressing room with the girls, wiping off your makeup in silence while Ella hands you a clean face cloth. Tiana squeezes your shoulder on the way to the bedroom, but no one says much.

No one needs to say anything at all to excuse what’s happened and how it continues to move throughout the villa. There’s a dynamic switch that has happened, mostly because the individuals in the villa that saw a light in you both is now gone. The damage has already been done, and there is now a shift in the mood.

Cut to the main bedroom, where the lights are dimmed and the duvets are already turned down when the islanders start to move into the sheets. A few of the couples are climbing into bed, bare legs tangling beneath cool sheets.

Tash walks in quietly after putting on her pajamas and rinsing her face and taking off her makeup, pulling her long hair up into a bun. She pads over to her side of the bed, the bed that her and Harry will ultimately share tonight.

He’s already there, sitting on the edge, shirtless, elbows on knees as he faces away from her. She starts to lift the covers to move into her spot. He gently leans back and gives her a soft look as he rubs his hand down his jaw.

“Don’t take it personally, yeah? I’m gonna sleep alone in the Hideaway tonight.”

Tash blinks, confused at his words before he speaks again.

“Just for tonight. Think it’s better. Out of respect.”

She holds his stare for a second, then nods and doesn’t say anything more. She understand the consequences that sharing a bed tonight could have—also, it starts to affirm that she had come in at the wrong time.

You’re lying on your side, facing the room, back to Ella, eyes half-closed but not sleeping—you feel so exhausted but barely tired at all.

Harry’s sitting at the edge of his bed one minute, hoodie in hand, slides cover his feet as he just stands with a smooth and slow motion. He picks up his water bottle from the floor and walks toward the door. The click of it opening slices through the silence of the main bedroom.

A few heads lift instinctively at the sound, and seeing Harry leave the room without Tash. She covers herself back up in the blankets, but the other islanders watch.

Ella turns slightly in her bed; Luca glances over his shoulder to see the noise; Jess lifts her head halfway, brows furrowed.

Even you look up — just enough to track Harry’s silhouette slipping through the door.

You notice that Tash didn’t follow behind. But once he’s left there’s no awkward whispers or explanations or realizations. But everyone feels it, and no one says a word.

All you know is that he doesn’t want to share a bed with Tash tonight in front of you. The first respectful thing he’s done all night - you could argue.

[strawberriesncigars]

fucked my way up to the top (2) | h.s

part 1 is here. pairing: ceo!harry styles x bratty!reader summary: harry is a businessman stuck in a marriage of convenience, and the girlfriend he’s fucking behind closed doors isn’t exactly making things easier for him. word count: 5k

warnings: nsfw, smut, oral (f rec), unprotected sex, marriage of convenience, cheating-adjacent, morally grey dynamics, power play, creampie, semi-public tension, possessiveness.

author's note: hi againn!! this part took me a while to write because i started a few different versions and none of them felt quite right, until i landed on this one and actually liked it. i hope you guys enjoy it too. whatever your thoughts are, i’d love to hear them, anon or not. it means so much especially when you’re new to writing like i am because finding motivation can be tough sometimes. i'm open to requests as well, or we can just chat… i’m here! hope you enjoy reading, and thank you so much for 300 notes on the first part <3

It had been exactly two years since Y/N had come to understand Harry’s tastes. She’d only been 21 when they met, nothing more than an inexperienced, naive girl. He had healed her clumsy little world and handed her a garden just beginning to bloom.

What she had with Harry wasn’t just about creating a life full of luxury, comfort, and indulgence. He was the only person who made her feel truly alive, made the world feel vibrant and thrilling. What they had was too powerful to be simple, too unique to be ordinary, and too uncertain to be called serious.

And she was fine with that. Or at least, she’d gotten really good at convincing herself she was. Y/N and Harry didn’t often sit down to talk about where they stood. She loved him. And she knew he loved her too.

Still, neither of them had ever really been the kind of people who dealt with things like love, commitment, promises, or responsibilities in any serious way.

They’d spent a long time together, and Y/N, simply put, knew Harry better than anyone else. She knew what he wanted and when he wanted it, what he hated, what he secretly craved and most importantly, how to handle him.

So the moment she stepped into her single-level suite, she tossed her keys aside and ran straight to the bathroom for a hot shower. Judging by her guess, it would take Harry at least half an hour to wrap up that damned dinner party, and at least another fifteen minutes to get home. That meant she had nearly an hour to prepare herself.

And as always —thanks to years of practiced timing— Y/N was perfectly ready one hour later. She’d showered, pampered herself with lotions and perfumes and slipped into a white silk robe that fell to her ankles, the sash loosely tied at her waist. Her hair, still a little damp, fell in soft strands around her shoulders.

She sank into her bed, now covered with fresh sheets, and let her hand drift beneath the loosened robe. A few precise strokes over her clit, combined with the lavish fantasies blooming in her head, were enough to make her wet. When she slowly pushed two fingers inside herself, she was trying not to come before he even arrived.

And she would’ve managed — if Harry hadn’t appeared at the bedroom doorway, hair tousled and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

The moment she saw him, she closed her eyes and threw her head back. Just the way he stood there, watching her, made her want to cry.

Harry was the first to speak. “I was hoping you’d behave.”

Y/N smiled inwardly. She knew he didn’t want her to behave. Still, she played along. “Since when have I ever given you what you hoped for?” she asked, breathless.

There was something about lying half-naked and needy in front of him that brought Y/N into line. And she knew —she knew— this was Harry’s favorite. The way his green eyes devoured her with quiet satisfaction was a reward all on its own.

“And when have I ever not given you exactly what you wanted?”

Fuck, she was close. So close. He hadn’t even touched her and she was on the verge of leaking onto the sheets. She closed her eyes, fighting to stay in control. She could last longer than four seconds. She could.

“Tell me this time won’t be any different,” she whispered, breathless.

Through half-lidded eyes, she saw the corner of Harry’s lips twitch. He tossed the jacket off his shoulder onto the white wooden dresser, then dropped lazily onto the single-seater at the foot of the bed.

Y/N had to twist her neck into an awkward angle just to look at him. She frowned. “Please tell me you’re not going to sit there all night.”

“Not all night,” Harry said, stroking the scruff along his jaw.

“You almost made me cry last time you did this.”

“No, you did cry that night.”

She had. Even though he’d been sitting across the room, everything he’d said, the way his hands had gripped the armrests while his entire attention remained locked on her — had pulled her into a cloud so intense, she’d come harder than she ever had in her life.

And yes, with tears in her eyes.

She heard Harry let out a deep breath. “Sorry,” he said. “Got a little speechless at the view.”

“You know... a little help—” Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to push her fingers in deeper with a bit more hope than skill. She couldn’t do it. “—wouldn’t hurt.”

“Can’t reach, huh?” Harry asked with a teasing lilt. “Well, this isn’t really for your pleasure, is it, darling? You’re just getting yourself ready for me.”

Y/N didn’t answer, not because she didn’t have one, but because she couldn’t find the strength to speak. She must have pushed Harry further than she thought tonight. She knew he wouldn’t touch her for a while now and the most she could get would be a look drenched in blame.

Despite the uncomfortable numbness, Y/N spread her fingers apart inside herself, her head falling back when her eyes rolled in pleasure. The sash of her robe had come undone. She needed this too badly. She always got too caught up, always hovered too close to the edge.

But she couldn’t come. Not without Harry saying she could. Even if she was just one breath away.

“Got any cognac?” He asked suddenly.

Y/N visibly paused. “What?”

“I said, do you have any cognac?”

“I heard you,” Y/N replied in a near-whimper. Watching him stay that calm while she was practically coming apart just a few feet away made her jealous, made her closer. “There should be a bottle right under the dresser.”

After the soft rustle of the chair and a few quiet movements, Y/N heard the clink of glass and turned her head to see Harry pouring the amber liquid into a glass, then taking a sip as he watched her through the mirror.

“Sorry,” he said, conversationally. “Didn’t really have time to drink something real today after all that sweet champagne.” He lifted the glass in mock toast. “Didn’t mean to interrupt you. Please — carry on.”

Y/N took a deep breath and moved her fingers again. “Harry…” she started but he was already back in the armchair. She couldn’t believe he could just sit there like that, sipping cognac like he was watching a boring documentary. God. She was going to cry. Again.

“I-I think I’m ready,” Y/N murmured, but she didn’t hear any confirmation. “Harry?”

A long breath. “Come here.”

Thank God. She slid her wet fingers out and wiped them against the white sheets before letting her trembling legs dangle off the bed. Harry hadn’t moved. Still seated comfortably, sipping from the glass. Y/N felt faint just from the calm, commanding presence he radiated. He could turn any chair into a throne. He was rich, powerful, respected —and tonight, aside from the rare occasions when he granted her a bit of control— he was completely, unmistakably in charge.

Biting her inner lip and walked toward him. Her eyes met his and didn’t stray, not even for a second, as she climbed into the armchair and placed her knees on either side of his spread legs.

Harry still wasn’t touching her. His face was hard, lips closed, jaw sharp. Being this close to him felt like a scene out of a movie. Like if he spoke, she might hear music swell in the background.

She pressed her lips together and trying to predict his next move. He’d told her to come over. Fine. Until further instruction, she wouldn’t make a move. But when Harry took another sip of his drink and swallowed loudly, it made it nearly impossible for Y/N to hold back. She wanted to touch him. Needed to. Like her life depended on it.

And just as her thoughts were spiraling, Harry leaned in closer. Reflexively, Y/N tilted her chin toward him. He pulled back slightly, sending a chill across her skin as he brought his lips from her jawline to her ear.

“Tell me what you want.”

That made Y/N pause. “I thought this wasn’t supposed to be about me,” she said hesitantly.

His lips twitched into the faintest smirk. “It’s not. I’m only asking so I know what I won’t be giving you tonight.”

“Harry—”

“What?” he cut her off. “Did you really think I ran all the way over here just to give my sweet little angel everything she wanted?” Harry reached into his pocket, pulling out a scrap of delicate lace. “Was that your idea? That stuffing a cum-soaked pair of panties into my pocket would get me moving faster?”

Y/N’s whole body was burning. She couldn’t tell if it was from shame or arousal. Probably both. The closer his face got to hers, the more it felt like her blood had turned to static.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N finally whispered. “I shouldn’t have acted like that… not in front of everyone. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

Almost as if to accept her apology, Harry slid one hand inside her open robe and let it settle at the curve of her waist. He tilted his head and pressed his lips against her jaw again. “You’re right. You shouldn’t have.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“A little.”

She reached up with hesitant fingers, gliding them over the fabric of his shirt to the back of his neck, then into his hair. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Y/N saw the expression in his green eyes soften for just a brief moment. “You know you can’t get over this that quickly, right?”

Harry took a deep breath, placing his other hand on her waist, gently gripping her hips and pulling her closer. His nose brushed against her neck, his lips resting on her collarbone. “You have no idea what you did to me,” he said, his husky voice brushing against Y/N’s skin.

“When you sat beside me for what I’m sure was over an hour tonight, shamelessly whispering dirty things into my ear, do you know what I wanted to do? I wanted to press you against a wall in front of everyone and touch you right there, make all our friends see how you walk around like you own everything, but in reality, you’ve been begging for my touch for hours. How good you are for me and—”

Harry pushed the robe loosely clinging to her shoulders with both hands, letting it fall and leaving Y/N completely bare.

She still felt one of his fingers tracing over her slick folds.

“You should’ve,” Y/N said before she could stop herself.

Because she knew she should be quiet — this wasn’t their first time. There were rules, do’s and don’ts, limits and boundaries. But none of that could stop her from pushing herself toward his finger.

“You should’ve pinned me to that bar and shown everyone who I belong to. To all your friends, to Aaron, who kept hitting on me all night, to David—” She paused and dug her nails into Harry’s nape. “Your wife.”

She didn’t even notice the slap on her hip until she heard the sharp sound. But then, the mix of pain and electricity it sent through her body tingled all the way to her fingertips.

Y/N looked up at Harry’s stern face through clenched teeth, letting out a low, muffled moan. Avoiding the gaze she was so used to —the one that usually hid behind curtains in his green eyes, revealing his true feelings whenever she gave the slightest negative response— sent a different kind of electricity through her body.

She knew those curtains well. She’d seen him pull them down when provoked and that gave her a strange sense of security. But now, there were no curtains in his eyes. Everything was out in the open. He was truly angry.

And Y/N was getting wetter.

“Would you have let him?” Harry finally asked after a long pause.

She swallowed hard.

His hand met her hip once again.

Closing her eyes, Y/N gripped his shoulders. Each passing second heightened the tension, pushing her closer to the edge.

“Answer,” He demanded again.

“To whom?” She whispered, her eyes burning.

She was sure her face was flushed, her hips even redder, and her hair completely messy — but she didn’t have the strength to care. All she wanted was to hold onto Harry and take everything he was offering perfectly.

“To Aaron Ashford. Would you have given him permission to see you like this? To do these things to you?”

“Never.”

The unwavering certainty in her voice made Harry look at her deeply for a few endless seconds before closing his eyes and pulling down the curtains she was so familiar with. Something like exhaustion.

Y/N snapped out of the short daydream when she felt his hand gently caress her hip.

“Give me a color.”

Y/N should kiss him. She had to kiss him. She needed to open those curtains in his eyes and kiss him until he saw the truth behind them.

Even though her answer was green, she said hurriedly, “Yellow.”

Because every time she said that, Harry would stop immediately, press a tight kiss to her and ask what was wrong.

Harry withdrew his hand from her hip and softly wiped the dampness off her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

She placed her hands from his neck to his chin, covered in rough stubble. “A k-kiss.”

Harry smiled slightly, as if he had known she would say that, and brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “Are you sure everything’s okay? I’m not doing something wrong—”

“I just need you to kiss me, H.”

His green eyes dropped to her lips and his hands firmly cupped her face. His lips met hers, his mouth moving slowly beneath hers. Harry’s nimble tongue traced hers, sharing the sharp essence of cognac with her.

With a small, unassuming kiss, she let everything slip away, throwing her priorities out the window — which wasn’t healthy. Her lungs burned, her head spun from desire, but in that moment, even if the room was on fire, she feared she wouldn’t find the strength to stop kissing him.

It was as if inside her was a poison no one dared to suck out and Harry was the only one who could.

Y/N tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him with everything she had.

When Harry slowly pulled away, his green eyes were wide open, staring at her with pure curiosity. “YN?” His hand found her cheek again, gently tracing it. “Love? Are you okay?”

The worry in his voice made Y/N feel even worse. God, she must have looked like such an idiot. Not long ago, she’d been trembling with desire and now she was shaking to keep from crying. “I-I’m sorry, it’s okay, I just—”

“Kiss?”

“No, Harry. It’s nothing.”

Harry grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. “I can’t read your mind,” He said, pushing a stray hair away from her face. “So you have to tell me what you’re thinking. We promised to trust each other, remember?”

Y/N sniffled and nodded.

It was a little strange, sitting naked and wet in his lap — his legs were probably numb, and she was sure he must be sweating from not changing out of his clothes — but she didn’t care. Not when he was looking at her with that curious gaze.

“I just… I mean, someone else... It wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t really let him. Not Aaron, or anyone.” She sniffled again. “I know sometimes I act like a stubborn little bitch but—”

Harry chuckled quietly.

“I wouldn’t trust any of them. Like I trust you.”

Damn it, Y/N was worse than she thought. She didn’t know what she was saying but somehow she hoped Harry understood.

“I’m sorry,” she continued when Harry didn’t respond. “What I did was reckless, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way—”

Harry cut her off stubbornly. “How?”

She wanted to hit him. “W-well, I don’t know, you looked like so much,” she hesitated when their eyes met, surprised to find his expression trying not to laugh.

“How did I look, baby?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

Harry let out a quiet laugh from his throat. “Say it.”

His hand slid from her back down to her hips. “I want you to say it.”

Y/N forced herself not to roll her eyes. “You looked tired and fed up, Harry,” she said all at once. “And I didn’t want you to look like that. Because I didn’t want you to be tired, and there could never be a reason for you to be fed up. Damn it, I didn’t take my eyes off you. I’m always watching you, wanting to be by your side. I think about you all day and then you throw a party at your house, and there’s a woman wearing your ring next to you.” She sniffled again. “Every second I see your attention on someone else feels like torture. I only want to deserve you, but you — you’re like a star everyone adores, always shining, and I can’t show anyone that I’m a part of that star too.” She swallowed to keep her voice steady. “This is awful.”

Harry studied her face for what felt like an eternity. His green orbs traced every inch of her expression, making each passing second harder for her. Would it kill him to say something? She felt like a sack of ruined figs. What was she even saying? If Harry left her now, she’d understand.

“Y/N, baby,” Harry finally spoke, his voice softer and more tender than she’d ever heard before. She felt something inside her melt. “You already have me. I don’t know how you didn’t see it, but I’m wrapped around your little finger, and whether we want it or not, everyone knows it.”

Y/N bit her lower lip. Harry pressed his thumb against her chin, making her release her teeth.

“I know you want us to be more comfortable around each other in front of them, and I want that at least as much as you do, but we have to be patient. We talked about this, remember?”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know I’m yours. I don’t want you thinking anything else. I’m sorry, I was bottling it up—”

Harry brushed his nose against hers, silencing her. “Is your color still yellow?”

YN smiled hesitantly. “It was never yellow.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Are you sure it’s green? Really, really green?”

She nodded. “Really, really green.”

Wrapping his arms around her body one last time, pressing a brief kiss to her lips, Harry slowly pulled away. “Now go to your bed, and don’t do anything until I say so. Can you do that?”

Y/N nodded quickly, obediently and headed to her bed.

Before Harry went to the bathroom, he caught her with a swift move, kissed her quickly, then winked before disappearing.

Y/N stood in the middle of her room for a long while, sucking on her lip.

God, she had hit hard and now Harry knew it too.

*

“Are you okay?”

Y/N wiggled her wrists a bit, testing the softness of the fabric that bound them. It was tight enough to hurt but not so much that she couldn’t move her hands at all. “Perfect.”

Harry pulled the fabric tied to the headboard once more, checking the tension, then sat back down on the bed, satisfied. After a moment of inspecting his work, he told her to wait and went to the closet.

Opening the white wooden doors, he rifled through her drawers. When he finally found what he was looking for, he made a sound of approval and returned to the bed, holding one of the patterned scarves Y/N sometimes wrapped around her neck.

“Tilt your head forward a bit.”

She obeyed quickly. With careful hands, Harry wrapped the scarf around her eyes, making sure not to trap any of her hair, then tied and adjusted it gently.

Her heart pounded inside her chest as her head touched the pillow again. Y/N had been tied up before, but never had Harry blindfolded her.

She bit her lip unconsciously and felt Harry’s finger on her chin.

“Stop that.”

Y/N hurriedly released her lip.

There was nothing in front of her but darkness. Normally, that would bother her but somehow it only fanned the fire that had started burning in her stomach. Hesitantly, she called out, “Harry?”

She wanted to reach out and touch him, to feel that he was still there but then remembered her hands were tied. God, she was completely knocked out — her only option was to listen to Harry’s breathing and hope he would touch her.

The answer she needed came to her lips. Harry’s full lips moved slowly over hers, whispering that he was still there. The kiss ended and the darkness swallowed her again.

Y/N was stunned but managed a weak nod.

His lips first brushed her jawline, then trailed down to the curve of her neck. His warm breath set her skin on fire.

“How much, my love? How much do you trust me?”

Y/N swallowed. “V-very, very much.”

At that, Harry’s hands found her hips and pressed her down onto the bed with his weight. “You’ll show me, won’t you, baby? How much you trust me, how much you need me,” He said, biting and gently tugging her lower lip between his teeth.

“I’ll be good for you.” Y/N licked her lips, chasing the taste Harry had left. “Anything you want,” she whispered softly.

Harry hummed happily. His hand gently cupped her chin as he lifted her head. “Angel,” his beard brushed against her neck and then her chest, “tell me who you belong to.”

Though her eyes were covered, she squeezed them shut. Harry’s hand stayed on her chin while his tongue slowly traced her nipple.

Her first instinct was to push him away, but remembering her tied hands, she arched her back like a bow.

Harry slowly bit down. “Say it, Y/N,” he said in a firm tone.

She tensed her body further and let out a loud moan. “Yours,” she said, breathless. “Only yours.”

Harry, pleased with her answer, moved down slowly, his tongue traveling from her stomach to her pelvis.

Reflexively, Y/N pushed against him. “Fuck.”

Harry grabbed her chin firmly and brought his middle and index fingers to her lips. “Control your tongue.”

Shaking with the tone in his voice, Y/N turned her head and put her fingers between her lips, pressing and sucking her tongue hard.

Harry mumbled something like “Well done,” but was too busy leaving a dark purple bruise on her pelvis to hear it properly.

He used his hands to spread her hips, pressing his tongue to the most sensitive places. Y/N clung tightly to the fabric binding her hands, making the headboard shake.

Harry didn’t care and pushed his tongue deeper, making Y/N gasp for air and her hips chafe against his stubble. He was giving her what she wanted but it wasn’t enough.

He loved chasing her, making her tremble with desire until all she could do was whisper his name over and over.

Y/N wanted to scream. She was suffocating under the intense tension that had been building for the last half hour and pushing her limits. Every breath was a struggle. “Harry…” she begged, fingers gripping the fabric desperately, “Please.”

She didn’t even know what she wanted anymore, but she was sure Harry would.

She felt the weight on her hips lift slowly, and Harry stopped all contact.

Y/N frowned.

“What—”

Harry silenced her with a brief kiss. “I’m just taking off my shirt.”

Y/N listened carefully to the quiet sounds of his movements.

The shirt fell to the floor, the belt came off, and the zipper of his pants was undone. Then she felt Harry on top of her again. This time, instead of fabric against her skin, it was Harry’s warm flesh.

YN braced herself, ready for his touch. But Harry only whispered in her ear, “Since you’re so good, I’m going to give you a reward. Want it?”

She nodded excitedly, Harry kissed her temple. “Your eyes or your hands?”

If she chose her eyes, she’d know he was there, see his hair falling on hiz forehead, see his green eyes holding everything she could dare imagine. But she wouldn’t be able to touch him.

She chose her hands.

Harry pressed his smile to her cheek, then stood and untied her hands tightly bound. Kissing the slight redness on her wrists, he freed her. “What’s your color, love?”

“Green.”

Now with free hands, as Harry leaned over her again, he grabbed his shoulders and the back of his neck, still unsure as her hands moved, but Harry kissed each hands, praising her. “You were so good, baby. So, so good.”

A small smile spread over Y/N’s reddening face. She ran her fingers over his face, which she knew by heart, feeling the curl of his lips.

When Harry pressed his pelvis against hers, she pulled her knees up toward him. One second, his cock was pressing against her hips; the next, he was inside her.

Y/N felt her eyes roll back and gripped Harry’s shoulders with all her strength.

Harry stayed still for a moment, letting her adjust, then sped up, matching a rhythm their hips could follow together. Y/N adjusted quickly. After a few uncomfortable minutes, Harry finally hit exactly the right spot, making her break her silence with a moan.

As she arched her body, Harry put his hand in the hollow of her back and supported her movement, making sure each thrust landed in the same steady place.

YN opened her mouth, biting her lip to stop herself from screaming, reminding herself not to do it. “H-Harry,” she held onto his hair at the nape of her neck, “I’m so close.”

Harry rubbed his nose against hers. Without saying anything, he pulled his hand from her waist and moved it toward the spot where her clitoris was. After rubbing it roughly a few times, she came before she could say another word. Y/N’s nails dug into him and she whispered his name breathlessly.

Harry followed soon after, her tightened pussy gripping his penis as he emptied himself inside her. He held her close without breaking their connection.

His lips pressed against her chest as he whispered things Y/N couldn’t fully hear. Her hands were tangled in his hair at the nape of her neck.

“Y/N?” His fingers tangled in her hair, gently grabbing the scarf, slowly removing it from her head. “Are you okay?”

Y/N slowly opened her tired eyes, waiting for them to adjust to the light. She managed to focus on Harry and nodded.

“Harry?” Her hands gently found his shoulders.

“I’m here, baby.”

She pushed herself toward him. Harry understood the message and curled his arms around her. Y/N let out a happy sound and nestled against his neck. He stroked her hair and ran his fingers through her curls until she calmed down, brought his hands to her wrists and gently touched the still-red marks.

Y/N’s eyelashes fell on her cheeks as their breathing found a rhythmic pattern under the sheet Harry pulled over them. She fell asleep.

“We’re going to Tuscany. You and me.” Harry whispered, unsure if she was asleep or not.

Her sleepy eyes opened, and her lips curled in satisfaction. “I love you.”

Harry buried his smile in her hair. “Love you more.”

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

hiiii! I saw this tiktok prank where the girl asked her bf to his opinion to help her decide which pair of jeans to keep from the 3 she ordered but she was wearing the same pair of jeans each time she came into the room. Can I request a fic of this prank with Lando or Oscar? tyyyyyy

cute jeans ౨ৎ

♡ op x reader ☔︎︎

♡ humour ☔︎︎

masterlist ☾☼

i'd love your support! https://ko-fi.com/kavi2305

the apartment was a denim battlefield. you, armed with your phone and a mischievous grin, were about to unleash chaos upon oscar. three identical pairs of jeans, and one very unsuspecting boyfriend.

"okay, oscar, fashion guru, your expertise is required!" you announced, emerging from the bedroom in the first pair. "these, the 'classic fit' – what's the verdict?"

oscar, bless his analytical heart, circled you like a hawk. "hmm, the classic fit. i like the way they sit on your waist. very… structured. the stitching is clean. a solid 8/10."

"8/10? what's missing?" you asked, feigning disappointment.

"just a little… something. a bit more personality, perhaps," he mused, tapping his chin.

you disappeared, reappearing a minute later in the same jeans. "alright, these are the 'slim fit' – different vibe, right?"

oscar’s eyes narrowed. "slim fit… i see. yes, the leg is definitely more tapered. much more… modern. i'd bump that up to a 9/10. very flattering. but, is it too modern? maybe a 8.8/10." he mumbled the last part, like he was calculating tyre pressures.

"8.8? that’s so specific!" you snorted, trying to suppress a giggle.

"details matter!" he declared, completely serious.

you retreated, reappearing with a dramatic flourish. "and finally, the 'relaxed fit' – the epitome of comfort!"

oscar's eyes widened. "relaxed fit? now we're talking! that's it! the perfect balance of comfort and style. the way they drape… magnificent! a solid 10/10! you absolutely have to keep these."

you burst out laughing, revealing the identical jeans. "oscar, you've just rated the same pair of jeans three different ways!"

oscar stared, his jaw dropping. "wait… what? they're the same?" he walked towards you, examining the denim closely. "no way! i was so sure…" he looked genuinely bewildered. "how did i not notice?"

later that evening, you posted the video on your social media. within minutes, lando norris's name popped up in the comments.

"piastri, mate, are you blind? you're rating the same jeans like they're different race strategies!" lando had commented, followed by a string of laughing emojis.

oscar, phone in hand, groaned. "lando, shut up! i was trying to be supportive! and they looked different!"

"nah, mate, you just got played," lando replied, adding a gif of someone facepalming.

oscar threw a pillow at the couch in frustration. "it's not my fault she's a denim magician!"

you, meanwhile, were still laughing, watching the comments roll in. oscar, bless his heart, was just too easy to prank. and lando, as always, was ready to add fuel to the fire.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

i'm just clearing out my drafts/inbox! i can't write x reader anymore, i'm more interested in being gay! (this is a joke, but fr, i can only do rpf now)

taglist: @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @anamiad00msday ; @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @peterholland04 ; @justaf1girl ; @greantii ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry ; @hiireadstuff ; @midnight-and-books ; @landoscarino ;

[callsign-swan]

Bones

Chapter Four

An animal trainer, a palaeontologist, an archaeologist, a rich boy, and an animal behaviourist on an island full of dinosaurs. They're bound to fall in love, right?

Poly Squad x Reader

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

“I hate this,” Bob managed to choke out. He held his head in his hands as he and Natasha rode in the tiny plane sent by Tom Kazansky. “I'm never answering another email, Nat, I swear.” He breathed into the paper bag, his eyes shut. 

Natasha rubbed his back. “You're okay, Floyd,” she said and checked her watch. “We're almost there.” 

This, of course, was a lie. 

It was the fastest way to travel to the island, something Nat would have considered luxury. That was if her partner (not in the romantic sense of the word) wasn't currently hyperventilating. They didn't have to deal with a boat ride, they didn't have to deal with excited kids and already fed up parents. They were travelling in style. 

Arriving to the island by boat would have taken hours; on the plane they were almost there. “Bob, look!” Natasha said as she pointed into the distance. 

But Bob couldn’t look. 

The plane touched down on a small strip of tarmac. Bob kept his eyes shut as they landed, hands gripping the armrests on either side of him. Only when the plane stop did he begin to calm down. He swallowed, sucking in deep breaths. “You know, that wasn’t so bad,” he mumbled. 

Rolling her eyes, Natasha stood up. She grabbed her bags and led Bob off of the plane. A car was waiting for them, but there was no sign of Tom Kazansky or the mysterious Doctor Bones. 

Bob and Natasha sat in the car. The driver spoke to them, his voice coming through a little speaker at the back. She told them about the park as they drove through it, about the rides and attractions, the different skeletal statues they saw on the way in (Bob could have identified them, even if he didn't have his glasses on).  

Finally, they pulled into the visitors centre. The driver killed the engine as a man in a suit approached. He was cool and confident, striding across the pavement to get to them. 

Finally, he pulled open the door. “Professor Trace, Professor Floyd,” he said, standing to the side as Natasha climbed out of the car, Bob behind her. “My name is Javy, Tom Kazansky sent me down here to pick you up.” He shook both of their hands. “It really is an hour to meet you both!” He began walking, leaving Bob and Nat no choice but to follow. “Our behavioural analyst used a lot of work to help when she first became part of the team. Your research on herbivores and plant life helped in the design of many of our herbivore paddocks,” he said. 

Bob remembered that paper. It was the first paper he had published after finishing two years of teaching paleontology at university. The Effects of the Cohabitation of Herbivores on Wild Flora.

Javy kept talking as he led them through the visitors centre. Around kids who were so happy to be learning about dinosaurs, parents who were trying  to seem less enthusiastic but were just as excited. 

An escalator took them up to the pain floor and Javy used his card to swipe them into a restricted area. “Welcome to the control room,” he said, holding the door open for them both. 

The control room was impressive. More people than Bob could count, working at computers. They had tiny screens of their own, but a giant screen was in front of them. A map of the island, filled with symbols neither of the professors could decipher. Different dinosaurs flashed up on screen. 

“Ah, Professor Trace! Professor Floyd!” A man strode towards them, one they recognised to be Tom Kazansky. “It's an honour to meet the both of you. 

He shook both of their hands, but Natasha spoke first. “I've heard you've got some dinosaurs to show us, Tom,” she said, forcing a smile. 

That was all they were here for, after all. To see some damn dinosaurs. 

Tom looked past them. When he turned to wave two people over, Bob and Natasha turned. 

You strode up to Bob, stopping yourself from skipping. “Professor Floyd,” you began, taking his hand and shaking rather enthusiastically. “I've read all of your papers- I'm a fan of everything you've done in your career.” 

Before you could say more, Tom Kazansky introduced you. Your last name was so familiar to him. Blackwood. He just couldn't place it. 

He glanced up at the other person that approached, standing behind you. He sipped from a mug, while with BONES printed across it. “Ah, Doctor Bones,” Bob was unable to stop himself from saying, holding his hand out to Bradley. 

Bradley stared down at Bob's hand stretched out in front of him. “Not a doctor,” he said and sipped from his mug. 

From behind him, you cleared your throat. “Um, I'm Doctor Bones,” you said. “Except, I'm not a doctor.” 

Bob turned on his heel, staring at you with wide, blue eyes. “You're Do- Bones? The person who has been sending me so many emails?” 

You couldn’t hide your grin as you nodded. 

Suddenly, Bob took your hand, shaking it himself. He was just as enthusiastic as you were, and your smile grew. “Oh wow! I read through all of your critiques of my latest paper and they were so fascinating! And this is all stuff you have learnt working at the park?” 

“It is!” You cried, unable to contain yourself. “It was your research I used when putting together the main herbivore paddock! Actually, it's really fascinating. Each species has their own-” 

But you didn't get to finish your sentence. “Bones,” Tom said and you dropped Bob's hand. 

“Sorry, Tom,” you squeaked and stepped towards Bradley. A protective arm found its way around you, keeping you safe. But you didn't need keeping safe, not in an environment like this. 

Tom nodded towards Bradley and he put the mug, your mug, down. “This is our trainer, one of the key reasons my park is so safe,” he said and introduced Bradley by name. 

You watched as Professor Trace twisted her features into a frown. She was still pretty, though. No. You were here as a professional, meeting two more professionals that you totally weren't fangirling over (who am I kidding? You totally were). “What do you mean, training?” She asked, folding her arms over her chest. “You're training the dinosaurs?” 

Bradley couldn't help but grin. He loved it when smart types came his way. “Yep,” he answered, his thumb moving in circles against your hip. 

She raised her chin at Bradley. “What dinosaurs do you train?” She asked. 

Lip pulled between your teeth, you looked positively ready to burst. “Go on, Bones,” he whispered and pinched your hip. 

You couldn’t hide the way you grinned as you listed off the training Bradley had done. Starting with the herbivores, moving onto the impressive work he had done with Rexy and Taz. Your eyes seemed to be sparkling the entire time you spoke. But then you moved onto the Velociraptors.

That part you kept short, as if you had suddenly become bashful. But you weren't bashful, Bradley knew. You were secretive, protecting the research you had conducted together. 

Bob turned around, his focus on Tom Kazansky. “When can we go and meet them?” 

*** 

Jake was in your seat. But you couldn't complain as you sat in the back of the Bronco with Professor Robert Floyd and Professor Natasha Trace. It was like a dream come true. 

Between asking Bob and Natasha all about dig sights, you watched Jake and Bradley interact. Every grumpy thing Bradley said, Jake had a charming response, one that had Bradley's cheeks turning pink. 

Approaching the first set of gates, Bradley  flashed his ID badge. “You ready, Bones?” He asked as he drove on. Through the second set of gates and across the field. 

“Get us a little closer, Roo,” you muttered, leaning forward. Jake turned towards you, wearing a grin you couldn’t help but match. It had been two days since he met Bertha, but he was just as in love as you were. 

As soon as Bradley parked the Bronco, Jake climbed out. He opened the back door and gestured for Professor Trace to do the same. You followed her out, Bob behind you. You cupped your hands around your mouth and called for your Big Baby Bertha. 

She raised her head from where she was grazing. A low vocalisation left her throat as she started towards you. 

Natasha's mouth fell open. She watched as the entire herd looked towards them. Most went back to munching on the grass around their feet, but one approached. Bob swapped out his sunglasses for his regular glasses, watching as the dinosaur approached. 

“It's real,” he gasped out. “It's all real.” It took everything he had not to drop to his knees. 

“That's my girl,” you said, not quite understanding just how unbelievable this was. Real dinosaurs. Walking, breathing, living dinosaurs. It wasn't supposed to be real, but here it was. Undeniably in front of them. 

Bertha bent her head and you fed her something from your pocket. 

“Nat.” Bob reached for her, trying to grab her arm. 

Swallowing, she nodded her head. “I see it, Bobby, I see it.” 

With a grin, Jake turned towards the two professors on the floor. He knew the feeling, had only felt it himself a few days ago. He looked towards you and Bradley, at the way you both had your eyes raised. A feeling you had both forgotten. 

“Wanna meet her?” Jake asked, grabbing Bob's arm and hauling him to his feet. He guided Bob's hand until he was touching Bertha's leathery muzzle. “She's gorgeous, isn't she?” He whispered as she turned her head to you and you fed her another treat. 

Bob swallowed and looked at his hand. She was real. A real dinosaur. Not photoshop, not a trick of the light. Real. His attention turned to you. “She's… Is she the egg you raised?” 

You gave a nod, scratching under her chin. “I used your paper on the herd structures of Sauropods and a paper you referenced on introducing new horses to a herd when Roo and I brought her to live in here.” 

Bob new the paper she was referring to. It was the only study he found that introduced horses to each other in the way his daddy used to, something he build his theory on herbivore herds off of. And here was living, breathing proof that his theory was right. 

The amount of research Bob could do here, it was endless. “May I?” He asked, holding his hand out to you. You dropped a couple of treats into his hand and Bertha turned her attention to him. 

“So.” Natasha folded her arms over her chest as she came to stand beside Bradley. “What did you teach this one?” 

Bradley made a list of all of the tricks he had taught Bertha since she hatched. Most of them were silly, things she could do when she was smaller. Freeze was his favourite, got Bertha to stand still while they did health checks with her. 

“Rooster!” You shouted. He looked up, watching the smile grow on your face as Bob fed Berth her treats. 

Beside him, Nat let out a laugh. “What's funny?” He asked, raising his eyebrows above his sunglasses at her. 

“Nothing, nothing,” she said. Not once had she taken her eyes off of Bertha. Surely she would have wanted to be up there with Bob, meeting a real, living, breathing dinosaur rather than talking to an old farm like him, as you would so delicately put it. “It's just, why does she call you Rooster?” 

It was an interesting story, one that sounded unbelievable to his friends back in Virginia. “I trained the T-rex's,” he answered, saying it as if it was nothing. It was the same way he had said it to his friends all those months ago. They didn't didn't believe him. 

Nat's eyebrows went up. “Trained them to do what?” 

It had been your idea with all of the animals in the park, training them to respond to a certain sound. The response Bradley trained them for had them coming into their little inside areas for dinner. It wasn't something the staff found themselves doing often, using the whistle to get Rexy inside. Only when she had to be sedated for checkups and such. Rexy got a whistle and Taz got a bell. It had been Bradley's crowning achievement, before the Raptors, and the reason you called him Rooster. 

“Seriously?” 

He couldn't tell if Natasha was asking in disbelief or getting ready to laugh at him. 

“That's why she calls you Rooster?” She continued. “That's…” Her gaze moved towards you, her voice sounding more careful that it had just moments ago. She wasn't making fun of him, at least not now, he realised. “That's adorable.” 

“That's Bones,” he answered as you got Bertha to lower her head. Your climbed onto her neck, wrapping your legs around her. At your command, she slowly raised her head and you slipped back, carefully and controlled until you were sat on her, looking as natural as if you were riding a horse. 

“Bones!” Bradley shouted, stealing your attention away from Bob. “We gotta go!” He shouted, patting the bonnet of the Bronco. 

From as far away as he was, he couldn’t see the pout you wore. But Bob could see it. He held his hand over the top of his glasses, shielding his eyes from the sun as you gave Bertha the ‘down’ command. 

She lowered her head, simply as if she was grazing, and you slid from her neck and over her head. “Good girl, Bertha,” you whispered and fed her a couple of treats. 

“She's really something,” Bob whispered, feeling the texture of her skin one last time. He turned to walk away, back towards Natasha, expecting to have you beside him. 

But a hand held you back. “Bonesy baby,” Jake muttered, lacing his hand through yours. For a second he glanced past you, making sure Bradley wasn't going to drive off without the both of you. “Hang back a sec.” 

You pulled your hand out of his, letting your nails scratch against his palm. “What is it, Jake?” You asked, looking genuinely concerned for him. 

When he smiled at you, your worries visibly eased, frown disappearing from your face. “I wanted to ask you something,” he said and you blinked at him, waiting for him to continue. “Will you go to dinner with me tonight?”

taglist: @daggersquaddoll

@lc-birdie

@lavenhaven

@mommymilkers0526

@i-heart-marvel

[headcanon-everything]

hello! If you are okay writing for them can you do romantic headcanons for either Dante or Tony? I don't see that much content for them.

TONY MY HIMBO I LOVE HIM he's so fucking funny (I'm doing Dante in a different one so keep an eye out!)

Romantic Tony Headcanons

Okay so he's kinda a meathead but he's a cute meathead so we love him

may not be exactly... the best when it comes to certain things but he's earnest and takes it to heart when you say something upset you or want him to try something else

likes to feel needed!!! let him help you out, whether it be rearranging furniture, fixing random things here or there, or even carrying in groceries

will only accept payment in kisses

will demand a kiss down payment as well, depending on the job

bear hugs, every time. might pick you up a little if you don't stop him

thinks it's funny if he hugs you hard enough that you let out a little wheeze when he squeezes really hard

has such a contagious laugh, you just can't help but smile when hes laughing at something

likes to tease, but the second you look actually upset (even if it's crocodile tears to get back at him) he's backtracking and apologizing IMMEDIATELY

will try and hug you after a long day of work and he stinks :(

he knows he's stinky, he thinks it's funny and doesn't want to wait to get your affection

you'll have to shove him towards the shower to get clean

you'll have to stop him from naming his future kid Tony or Toni, per family tradition (probably will need a compromise of it being a middle name or a variant like Antony)

WHY does this man not have a full finger gun sprite

if you cook for him, he's instantly swooning, even before you're together

this man can't cook for SHIT I can feel it

hates when he has to pull overtime and can't see you, is calling on every break

you can usually hear him before you see him, he's not very sneaky even if he tries to be to spook you

snores. sorry not sorry but you canNOT tell me that he snores.

usually it's not too bad, but if his head is turned to the side (like if he's sitting in a chair instead of laying down) it sounds like a hammer drill

you'll have to keep an eye out for him shifting things about himself to be more of what he thinks you "like"

it's not as bad if you've done the talking with Rainey, but he may still do certain things

try styling his hair closer to a celebrity you mention you like, doing certain things more if you seem even the slightest bit envious of another couple

just a quick check with him and he stops it though, he knows you like him for himself, it's just that old habits die hard

will show up with flowers often and with no occasion, just that "I walked past 'em and thought about you"

[daddyelliott1979]

Heya kiddos and bigs, myself and the boy have been carefully planning this little venture for some time. There's lots of aspects to it that differs from other companies.

First up we are making most of what we are going to sell.

Most importantly we've noticed that Mummy's, Daddy's, Nanny's and Care Givers aren't represented!

In fact all ABDL companies focus on and market solely to littles!

We aren't doing that, we aren't also treating kiddos like a 1 size fits all!

Littles come in different ages, wouldn't it be wonderful to shop at a company that authentically speaks to your truest heart?

Where products are set out by age 0-12 months, 1-2 years, right up to middle ages?

Where function and style meet creating comfortable clothes in bright colours that also do exactly what they need to! Hand made/sewn in house, by us.

Imagine a company where CG can choose from a range of products such as nappies and changing bags that not only are exceptional in quality and ease of use. But are also engaging for the little one's, igniting their imagination and coaxing them into a beautiful little space!

Think kidcore meets 80s/90s baby, toddler and childish designs, rockets, trains, cars, zoo animals, Dino's, Robots, princess and more!

We are really pushing the authenticity of this as a family run business created by a Single Dad of a little boy- so much fun marketing coming!

For now we are in the design phase of our first range of Cloth nappies, but are planning some smaller product drops. Including some fun accessories for the kiddos! Over the coming months.

What we are also planning is a membership club, every month you will receive a letter, comic,stickers, badge, Sweet's and treat's for a small price plus p and p. So once a month you can enjoy a goodie bag whilst you watch morning cartoons!

All members will be added into a free prize draw every month to win exclusive products, including dummies and tee shirts.

These are just some of the unique features that we are bringing to make this an amazing, interactive and welcoming experience!

We want to focus on ethics, equality and low environmental impact. As a business owner and as a Father, who goes through dozens of nappies a week, I want to create affordable, easy to use Cloth nappies that combine the best of both reusable and disposables- creating a truly effective hybrid!!

We are really thinking through what we are creating, trying to ensure that we seek ethical partners and suppliers. Creating high quality products that's completely different from what's on the market.

There's a diverse range of ABDL businesses out there and they are amazing, we are bringing something really unique to add to the beautiful sector!

Lots to do!

We will be looking for product testers and ambassadors in the future!

We will keep you posted, but I'm so bloody excited!!

[starktonyx]

short n' sweet

Pairing: John Walker x short!reader

Word count: 850

Description: You leave quite an impression, short and sweet to be exact. John is obsessed. The way he can mandhandle you. Lift you up to reach things. Cage you under his body while his hand covers your entire face.

Tags/Warnings: no specific height mentioned but the whole thing is about being short, smut, size kink, John being down bad, dirty talk, praising.

Note: Someone asked me what I thought about John having a size kink with a short reader, so I just had to write a little something about this bc I'm 5'0 to be exact and I need a piece of that 6'2 man. Just a cute little something while I finish a longer angsty fic, enjoy 🫶🏼

The archive | Masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━

John Walker absolutely gets off on being big.

Because he IS big. He's tall, back is broad as hell, he's got that healthy I've-been-an-athlete-my-whole-life body, and don’t even get me started on those large hands.

John knows he's usually taller than most people he meets, with the few exceptions of someone like Alexei for example. He doesn’t really think about it much, because it's been like that his whole life.

Until he meets you.

The first time he really notices just how much he towers over you? How he could lift you up and put you anywhere like it's nothing?

Yeah, you bet he’s done for.

He’s standing behind you during a mission briefing, pretending to listen to Yelena talk tactics, when suddenly his focus shifts. To you in front of him. Or more accurately, below him. The fact that your head barely reaches his shoulders fucks something in his brain chemistry.

After that? he just sees you differently.

He notices everything. How you always have to get on your tiptoes to reach anything. How your legs dangle when you sit on the kitchen stool. How he had to literally lift you over his shoulder to help you climb a wall in a mission. His heart, and something else, didn't leave him alone the rest of the day.

Or that one time you tripped and he caught your hand before you fell, your palm swallowed by his. He looked down at that size difference and again … his body betrayed him.

And once he has you? Once you’re his?

He's down bad.

He’s suddenly placing things on higher shelves in your room, in the kitchen, anywhere. Just so you have to ask for his help. Or so he gets to wrap his arms around you from behind and lift you. Preferably the last one.

One time Yelena caught on and screamed at him because she couldn’t reach the cereal box and “not all of us have a bodyguard to get shit down for us, Walker!”

He doesn't care.

When he sees you siting on a stool, feet not touching the ground. He’ll lean down, tilt his head and go, “You comfy like that, sweetheart?” and then lift you off the stool to plop you on his lap instead. “There. That’s better.”

But he doesn’t mock you for your height. Never. He teases, yeah, smirks when you try to reach something on your own, maybe picks you up when you least expect it just to hear you yelp. But he would never make you feel small in a bad way.

Why would he complain when it makes him feel like he’s got a purpose? Like he’s built just for you?

When he can just manhandle you whenever he wants to?

You could be just minding your business, stretching on a mat at the tower’s gym and John just decided he needed to fuck you in that moment. He just towers over you, sweeps you up, legs dangling in front of his chest as he places you on his shoulder to carry you fireman style.

“John!!”

“Yeah?”

“Put me down.”

“I am, baby. Down on the bed.”

You don’t protest any longer. You know it’s useless. And maybe you just want him to fuck you in that moment too.

And once he’s got you in bed, all laid out in front of him, that’s when it hits him. Really hits him.

How much of a smaller frame you have against his.

Like you’re small not just in the casual sense. In the fuck-it’s-making-me-feral sense.

You blink up at him, dazed. “You okay?”

He just stares. Then swipes his thumb across your cheek, down your throat, resting it right above your collarbone like he’s measuring you.

“Yeah. I just… damn.” His voice drops lower, a little hoarse. “I’ll never get tired of how you look under me.”

He cages you in, braced on his forearms, letting his weight sink just enough to press you into the mattress. He’s not even inside you yet and you already feel like you can’t breathe, wrapped in warmth and muscle and the scent of him. In that unfairly broad chest, your hands flattening against it to keep you from completely losing it.

He glances down. “Look at that. Can barely see your hand on me.”

Then he grabs your wrist and holds it up to his own. Your palm being ridiculously swallowed by his.

He groans.

“Oh, I like this,” he says, and you feel the moment his restraint cracks, like it always does with you. “Fuck, I like this.”

It doesn’t take long until you’re naked, pleading to be absolutely wrecked by every part of him.

He’s obsessed with how your body looks under him. How your thighs spread wide to take him. How your hands can barely wrap around his arms, around his waist. How your mouth can barely take him.

“God, look at you baby. You sure you can take all of me?”

And sweet hell, you barely can.

He loves the way your body fights to take him. The stretch. The tremble. The way you gasp when he’s only halfway in. And he never rushes, he soaks it in. Watches your face contort with every inch, feels your nails claw at his shoulders, like he’s too much and not enough at the same time.

The way your hips twitch, the way your mouth parts when he bottoms out … it sends him.

“Hurts so good, huh? You always do so good for me, sweetheart.”

You blurt something out, breathless, shaky “so full… John” your head rolls back and he growls.

He lives for you being overwhelmed. He talks you through it in that low, his voice rough in awe. “Yeah that’s it, so full of me … you’re taking me so well, baby.”

His hand covers your entire face. Pressing you down onto the mattress, “So damn little… barely gotta try to hold you down, huh?”

You go dumb on it, completely lost on his giant frame, on the strength he still held back, until all you can let out are those tiny, wrecked noises he lives for.

“Look at that,” he pants, pushing roughly. “You’re so full. You’re shaking, sweetheart. Think I’m too big?”

He begs to finish inside. Because you’re so small and soft and fucking perfect and he needs to feel it. “Let me, sweetheart. Let me fill you up, come on. Let me see how much your body can take.”

He fills you until it drips. He’s obsessed.

And after? He will straight up collapse on you, all sweaty and satisfied, while you’re still shaking from your high, caged under his entire body.

The cuddles hit different. You sleep on him, under him, around him. He wraps himself around you like a weighted blanket. “You okay under there?” he teases, knowing damn well you can’t move when he has his heavy arms around you.

Not that you complained anyways.

[tonythr]

A huge prediction for future chapters

So, I've been thinking about some of the moments from these 4 chapters. And some of them felt... like they're leading nowhere. But nowhere might actually be where we need to go in the future.

Like, look at this moment from chapter 2:

Yes, this is a callback to the throne of the gods in Toriel's classroom, but... Is that really it? And yes, Queen and King do have a conversation about the 'royal water bottle', which might be just a joke about the fact that it's a thing that's normal for royal people... But what if it's not? Ok this might be a bad example of what I'm trying to say here, look at this:

Chapter 3 constantly mentions things beyond the TV world, things like Purple Cliffs and the Cold Place. It feels like there's a bunch of stuff beyond what we see, just like in Tenna's game, where we can go to the forbidden area past the ocean.

Actually, Chapter 1 may have a similar thing, but that one is kind of obscure, since here I wanna bring up the Deltarune stream the Fangamer dads did with Toby (here's the link, check it out if you haven't).

Apparently, when one of the Dads ask Toby Fox what are the scissors dancers saying with those noises, they're violating a set of secret rules between them and Toby. There's some kind of 'list' of things they coldn't discuss on the stream, and it always struck me as odd that the scissors dancers are one of them. And these guys ARE weird, and their whole existence is never acknowledged in the game. Feels kinda like an unfinished storyline.

And there's also this thing that only showa up when it's getting darker, yet darker:

Now, I know, I know what are you gonna say, dear voices in my head. Not everything should be explained, some things are just Like That because it's all part of Toby Fox's whimsical style of storytelling.

But then I look at Chapter 4. And there's this whole plot about Susie creating a new Dark Fountain in the same place as the Knight's one, and it allows us to see another side of an already familiar world.

Different things become darkners. We have one of the Old Man's statues as a boss. The world is messed up, and it's like we see some kind of B-side of the first sanctuary. A post-scratch version, if you will.

So then I thought. What if we'll also see new versions of the worlds from chapters 1-3? The Grand Door in Our Town may not ever open again, but that doesn't mean it won't.

But that's crazy, right? Why would we go back to the old worlds when there's SO MUCH places that would make much more iteresting Dark Worlds? Ice-E pizzeria, QC's diner, the Skeleton bros' house, the Holidays' house. But... What if that's the thing?

Why did Toby separate chapters 3-5 from chapters 6-7? Why did he want to work on those last two for a bit more? Is it just because they're more plot-heavy, being the final ones (and also number 6 being Gaster's number)?

What if one of the reasons was that in one of those chapters we wll visit multiple Dark Worlds?

What if. Not only will we break from the 'one chapter = one dark world location' formula, but we'll also be able to choose for ourselves which dark world we want to see?

After describing chapter 5, Gerson goes on to hint at what will happen after that, and it seems that the next chapters are going to be... something else. In Deltarune, there's a huge theme of the fact that, despite there being one ending, the way we get there is more important than that ending. So even if the prophecy's events are unavoidable, we can still make our own choices.

And I think there's no better way of hinting towards the fact that, at some point, either in chapter 6 or chapter 7, there's gonna be a 'choose your own adventure'-type thing, where WE will decide what place the next dark world is going to be.

Not only would this be a great way to account for all those places in Hometown that would absolutely SLAP as dark worlds, but it can also tie up all those loose ends from the previous chapters.

Just think about it. We could ACTUALLY have a chance to bring the Throne of the Gods to the Supreme Table. Maybe we'll fght the block trees. Maybe we'll finally be able to visit other parts of the Dreemurrs' House as a dark world, see those Purple Cliffs, meet that hermit and actually see what that 'How to draw dragons' book actually looks like in the dark world. Maybe we get a B-side to all those worlds, and the worlds we haven't seen yet. Infinite possibilities. It would be a paradise, paradise! Maybe even an Angel's Heaven. What more could we, as a player, desire, than to have as many dark world adventures as possible?

Call me crazy, but Tricky Tony already proved with these new chapters that crazy stuff happening in his game is someting that absolutely can and will be real. And since we might not want Deltarune to ever end, just like Susie, we can strive for an endless story.

(Though, as we learned with Tenna, every good show must come to an end sooner or later. Maybe that will be our own character arc - to learn to let go of a story...)

[awesomefringey]

I'm coming to you with a concern. I may be letting others and their opinions influence my own but here goes. So when Louis liked the Larry reel I got caught up in all the excitement. But I think we can all agree that after Louis' behavior over the last couple of years, the like really seemed to come out of left field. Since about 2022, Louis has been making a concerted effort to drive Larries away, or at least quieten us down substantially. It has felt different from the times in the past, where there would be a denial, but it would be quickly followed up by something obviously Larry. That's why the like seemed very strange to me. Anyway, my worry is that with a new album in the works, Louis realized or was advised that he needs to curry some good will with larries and either him or his team liked the reel for that reason. To create excitement and engagement again. This on its own is not that bad. But my main concern is if Harry and Louis are broken up and Louis essentially Larrybaited and continues to sing 7, knowing full well how people take it and is stringing fans along, knowing there's no relationship anymore. I would be so disappointed to find out he'd be okay with doing something like that for some extra ticket/cd sales, but at this point, I don't know that he wouldn't.

Hi nonnie, it’s totally okay to feel this way. I’ve had some of the same thoughts, but personally, I just don’t believe Louis would use someone who was such a big part of his life like that, even indirectly. If anything, he’s always been incredibly protective of Harry. The way he’s reacted to Larries in recent years has felt less like denial and more like he’s drawing a boundary. Like he’s pushing us out of something private we were once invited into.

I also feel like both Louis and Harry have worked so hard to shape their public images, that queerness can be suggested, but never in a way that outs them or crosses a line. Everything’s so carefully curated and I respect that. Many fans actually do, but… I do think the fandom has changed. There’s been a rise in really intense over-analysis and this almost obsessive scavenger-hunt mentality where everything is about “freeing” them. That’s shaped a lot of the newer side of the fandom and it feels like we’ve gone from “let’s quietly support something beautiful we believe in” to “I know a secret and I’m going to shout it everywhere and I’m going to fight people online over it”, even if it puts them in uncomfortable situations. I’ve often felt like… maybe we are too much, and I totally understand why they’d want space from that. Okay, I am kinda going off grid here so…

As for the like, I won’t lie, it gave me a little bit of 2015-style recklessness. I don’t fully know what it means. But with both of them at Glastonbury, heavily stunting… it felt weirdly intentional and coordinated, like there was a shared decision. And if it was planned, it didn’t feel like one person using their ex trying to stir things up alone, it felt mutual. Not like Louis being a petty ex trying to reanimate a part of a fanbase that will remind him of a possibly terribly painful end of a relationship. Like always, we’ll probably only understand what that was about in hindsight. 🧐

[missypanther]

Dandadan Recap 2x02

I had serious doubts that Okarun's shift into wild mode was related to the idea of ​​censoring the suicide theme. But if they didn't censor it in the first season, it's incomprehensible why they would censor it in the second. Many said the acrobatic flashback was too subtle, but I didn't see it that way. Nevertheless, I appreciate that they were honest about this part, including the parents' scene, which is probably the darkest of all on this subject.

The turbo once again demonstrates how much she cares for the boys and that she wants to save them at all costs. Her excuses for why she keeps helping them are becoming less and less believable. xDD I love her a little more each time.

Jiji carrying the whole gang is the definition of A MAN. While Momo and Okarun try their best to kill themselves using both the tools at their disposal and their psychic powers. There's something that still grates on me about all this regarding Momo's powers, but I'm going to wait until the Cursed Eye arc to talk about it in more depth.

I expected Evil Eye's flashback to be much, MUCH worse. My impression of the manga versus the acrobatic one is that its story was sadder. But they didn't want to overdo it. I mean, I don't think they couldn't have made it sadder; they just didn't want to. I have to say, the drawing style in this part is incredible, and it often reminds me of old illustrations.

This part. This little bit broke my heart way more than the entire flashback. I'm not going to lie and say I didn't cry because I did. Jiji is such a good person, and poor Evil Eye… A baby with super strength.

Jiji's transformation is incredible. It was already awesome in the manga, but here it looks amazing. It's always caught my attention because of the four official transformations we have (I'm not sure how to classify Rin's), it's the strangest. He doesn't have a mask, he doesn't have the fluorescent lines, and he doesn't have a semi-transformation. I know that Curse Eye and Jiji's conditions are a little different from those of their companions Okarun, Aira, and Zuma, but it's still always caught my attention.

It's a topic I'm very interested in, but unfortunately, there are many gaps to fill in. Evil comes out rather shortly after the conclusion of his two arcs, and Jiji doesn't seem to explore that aspect of his powers much, but his appearance most likely has a lot to do with his power level.

Continuing along the same lines, his powers and combat have been quite impressive in this episode. I suppose that's precisely why there wasn't time for a more intense flashback like the one we got with the acrobatics. We already see several of her features, such as the curse, the soul ball, and the barrier, which are sort of borrowed powers from the souls in the house, a bit like the crab and the turbo granny. Also, and the most worrying thing about the Cursed Eye's powers is that they have no limits on their use, as is the case with Okarun…

My prediction for the next chapter is that the cursed house arc will be completely wrapped up. Dandadan doesn't tend to drag out fights any longer than necessary and likes to leave room for other topics.

[Recap 2x01]

[hiimdip]

How do you go about drawing bigger guys? (Also just wanna say, love your art style! It looks great and I haven't seen anything quite like it!)

Thank you!

There's a lot of ways to go about drawing a bigger dudes and it coincides with understanding general anatomy/proportion/perspective and everything else that comes with understanding art fundamentals. The best way to learn is by doing and building up that muscle-memory. I hear the term "just draw" whenever people ask about how to get good at art and while I *hate* that answer, it does hold truth. Find some plus sized models and draw them out, find your favorite artists or pictures that spark joy and try to copy them. There's no shame in heavily referencing something for the sake of learning (or referencing in general but that's a discussion for another time) because that's how you're gonna build your muscle memory and be able to draw your 8 ft tall 600 pound bara daddy that we all yearn for in our lives.

Admittedly, I still have a lot to learn and I feel my fundamentals are still lacking. Everyone is different when it comes to where to start when drawing so find a process that is most comfortable for you. For me, I start with the head usually and construct the rest of the body around that. For characters like Cato or Connor, I then draw the pecs and then their belly. It really depends on what pose they're in and what they're doing but the placement of the head and the movement of the torso are something I usually prioritize first before focusing on the limbs.

I literally just wiped my Procreate files so I can't provide a timelapse for other pictures other than the one I just did of Connor but I hope that this helps visualize what I'm saying.

I'm really bad when it comes to explaining things and I'm more of a visual/hands-on learner so I *hope* that what I said helped even a little bit. If you have any other questions though lemme know and I'll do my best to answer them :D

[inhurtandincomfort]

Character Whump Interview: Lukas and Kieran

From this ask game, but @/whumpawaydarling and @/holidayinhell did it interview style and I thought it was really fun, so I'm trying it myself!

This is not canon, but the answers are canon compliant. It's a bit of fun is all..

Read Eldwin's Version here!

[In the small, cosy living room of a forest cabin. It looks to be a casual scene. Two men sit together on a couch, both young adults, with brown skin, Lukas with brown eyes and short brown hair, Kieran with black hair and light green eyes. Lukas has his arm around Kieran's shoulder, pulling him close. Kieran looks nervous. There is a camera poised at them, behind which a young woman asks questions sent from regular viewers.]

1: Would you rather - Rope or Chains?

L: "Rope."

K: "Uh... chains, if I had to choose...?"

2: If Whumpee had multiple whumpers, who is their favourite? For whumpers, which whumpee was your favourite?

K: "Do I- have to answer? With them here? Okay, it- it's Lukas." His voice turns small, and he barely chokes out the name. He is not looking at the camera.

L: "Kieran, of course. Everyone else is just a means to an end."

3: In your opinion, what is the best way to train a pet?

K: "With positive reinforcement? I've only ever had one dog, but we trained her with treats an-" He flinches as Lukas puts a hand on his head, playing with his hair.

L: "You're cute. I can't say it's my area of expertise, but I'd be strict with them. Make them afraid to step out of line."

4: Broken ribs or bullet wound? 

L: He hums. "Broken ribs. Guns are too loud and messy."

K: "Yeah, broken ribs... I guess... I've never been shot, so I can't really say."

5: Preferred type of gag? 

L: "I like a basic cleave gag. Not very effective, but it doesn't need to be here. It looks appealing."

K: "Just duct tape is fine, it's easy..."

L: "Easy to get off, you mean. But it is a nice one too. Popular in movies."

6: Burned or stabbed?

L: "Burned. You get a lot more for less effort."

K: "I haven't been stabbed, so.. I don't know. I think maybe it would be better?"

L: "Eh, it's always better from the other side."

7: Favourite stress position? 

L: "I don't really do that much. I just make them kneel down or stand up so they can't hide."

K: "Yeah I don't really have an answer for that..."

8: Have you given or received any Brands? What do they signify?

L: "No, but we should. What do you think it should be, Angel?"

K: He closes his eyes. "I don't know. Why are you asking me these things?"

L: "Hmm. We'll think about it."

9: Broken arm or broken leg? 

L: "I like to break their legs when they try to escape. They always do. Each one seems to think they're different, that they'll be the one to make it. They never are."

K: "Ah... I- broken arm? I like... being able to walk..." He trails off, like he was spooked by something. He seems... afraid. Somehow more than he was before.

10: How did you get here? Why are you the way that you are?

L: "Kieran left me." His grip on Kieran's shoulder tightens. "We're here because he let that bitch infect him with her vile lies. He doesn't know what's best for him, so drastic measures had to be taken. Isn't that right Angel?"

K: He lets out a whimper, squirming against Lukas' hold. "Yes."

11: What is your biggest regret?

L: "Nothing that matters anymore."

K: "Not being able to say goodbye."

12: Is there a line you won’t cross? For whumpee, what do you most fear whumper might do?

K: "I... I don't know, I-" He stares into his lap, his fists clenched tightly. "He sometimes talks about... about finding Abigail. Or my sisters. I don't want them to get caught up in all this."

L: "Aw, Angel. You know I won't do anything I don't have to."

13: What lessons have you taken away from your experience?

L: "That no one can be trusted. If I give people freedom, they'll run. They'll leave. You wanna know what lessons I've learned? No one cares. So you need to make them care."

K: "That sometimes it's best to just stay quiet. To not seek anything more."

14: Whip or cane?

L: "Whip, easy."

K: "Cane, I suppose. Doesn't really matter though."

15: Drugged or coherent?

L: "Coherent."

K: "...Drugged. It's easier."

16: What are your true, honest feelings about each other? Is there some part of you that cares for the other at all?

L: "Of course I care. That's why I'm doing this."

K: "Yes. Lukas is good to me. I couldn't find anyone better." His brief smile doesn't reach his eyes.

17: What is your favourite thing about the other? A personality trait, a physical feature, anything

L: "Oh, that's hard. I like how sweet he is. To the point of naivete." He idly twirls Kieran's hair in his fingers. "I like his hair, it's soft. But his eyes are the most beautiful colour I've ever seen. Nothing can compare to that."

K: He takes a moment to answer. When he does, he sounds distant, like he's trying to separate himself from what he's saying. "His willingness to forgive. I don't deserve his forgiveness."

18: Do you have relationships outside of each other? Friends, family - if yes, do they know about whumpee? Do they care? 

K: "Well... no. Not anymore. I did but they're not important now." He bites his lip, blinking rapidly.

L: His expression turns sour. "Next question."

19: What other hobbies do/did you have?

L: "I like photography, and filming. I like cooking, too."

K: "I liked photography, too. And I was getting into reading. A- I was trying out some video games, I played pokemon as kid. And studying movies... I was keeping myself busy."

20: For whumper, is there any chance you’ll let whumpee go? For whumpee, have you ever thought about life after you’re free?

L: "After all the effort I went to bring him back? And let him turn me in to the cops? Do you think I'm stupid?" He snaps, taking a deep breath. His voice turns deadly calm. "No, he's not going anywhere."

K: His breath hitches. "All the time. I wonder... how can I come back from this?" He sounds like he's about to cry. "How could I look anyone in the eyes, after everything that's happened?"

L: He pulls Kieran into his chest, soothingly stroking his hair. "It's okay. You won't need to worry about any of that."

[The camera goes black.]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 3: Enveloping Feelings.

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 4)

[soybean-official]

It's going to hurt every time

[icewindandboringhorror]

Little bright colored outfit with a fun vest ~

(shoes from ebay like 10 years ago. everything else is thrifted)

[chiropteracupola]

He started back as quickly / And staunchly swung aside / With all the woe in the world / He turned to the wood to hide...

[a gawain for @mortiscausa's 'march to camelot,' for the prompt 'hunt']