#but this one is one is definitely one for being playing in the middle of the movie

[moonchildstyles]

fig

pomegrante part two: y/n finally convinces harry to go out with her and her friends, but the night really starts when they make it home

wordcount: 9.2k+

—————

"What's for dinner tonight?" 

(Y/N) peeked over Harry's shoulder, her hands landing on his back to keep her steady. There was a whole empty stretch of counter she could have stationed herself, where a well enough view would have shown her what he was doing at the stove, and yet she chose the option to put her hands on him and let him breathe in the bouquet of her scent. 

His lungs squeezed on instinct. 

"Jus'—uh—some macaroni and cheese. Thought it would be easy and all," he murmured, attempting to keep his voice even and mind from wandering. 

It had been a week since the drunken night in his bedroom had turned into the morning spent between his sheets, and yet Harry wasn't sure he'd ever actually recovered. Every now and again, when a particularly vivid memory of her hand fisted around him came to the forefront of his mind, he was out of commission for a few moments, something akin to an aftershock racing up his spine. 

(Y/N) definitely wasn't making it any easier to move past the intimate moment with the way she seemed to have completely forgone any kind of barrier that had previously kept her from being touchy-feely with him. It was moments like this—with her hands on his back in the middle of the kitchen—that had plagued him and kept him stuck on the week prior. 

Most mornings now included a lingering hug goodbye with a kiss to his cheek. The days where he beat her home, she would make a point to come and say hello to him once she'd returned from her own work day. Cuddling on the couch during a show or movie, was something that no longer required any build up; from the moment they sat down, she was at his side with her shoulder bumping his and knee skimming the cuff of his own with every shift of her form. 

Tonight, she held no hesitation before she was draping herself over his form, the warmth of her body sinking into him. Instinctively, he wanted to melt and relax, allow his bones to go malleable so that he could wrap around her the way he wanted. At the same moment, his spine went stiff, keeping him at attention as he was unwilling to miss even a single brush of her fingers. 

"That sounds good, H," she smiled, decidedly much more at ease than her counterpart, "Do you want any help?" 

"No, I've got it," he swallowed, curling his mouth into a smile as he turned his face to find her gaze already trained right on him, "Thank you, though." 

"Okay," she sighed, dropping down from her tip toes and edging out towards the living room, "I guess I can just watch our show then."

He laughed at her exaggerated show, playing along as if she were the one doing the hard work for the night. "I hope y'can manage." 

"We'll see" she sang just before sweeping out of the space and taking the butterflies in Harry's stomach along with her. 

His chest deflated as a deep breath left his lungs. It was embarrassing to admit that, from just the smallest moment, his cock had stirred for no other reason than the fact that it was (Y/N) that had touched him. There was a part of him that figured that after that night in his bed, that he would have been freed from that lingering kind of desire; that he would have gotten everything out of his system and would have been able to move on as only her friend, but everything appeared to only have intensified. 

That's why every touch and every moment seemed to make a larger mark on him. More often than not, he was transported right back to his sheets, (Y/N) tucked to his side and his chest heaving. He knew what she felt like—the touch of her hands, the heat of her skin, the pump of her heart—and he wasn't going to be able to easily forget that. 

A furrow appeared in his brow as he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He needed to finish making dinner, and then he would worry about (Y/N) and what it meant that he couldn't look at her now without a rosy glow glossing over his vision. 

—————

Scratching his head, Harry stared at his laptop screen. A spreadsheet illuminated his face. 

While he loved his project team and enjoyed his department colleagues, there were times—just like this one—that made him wonder if he was going to be driven mad on their account. The equations and rules posted in each of these cells made little to no sense, he couldn't fathom why Tylor would think this was good enough to pass along an—

"Boo!" 

A fumbled curse fell from Harry's mouth as he practically jumped out of his skin. Snapping his head to look over his shoulder as he roughly pulled his headphones off of his head, he saw (Y/N) giving him a goofy grin, biting back a laugh. 

Harry let out a heavy sigh, his heart rate settling back to normal. 

"Did I get you?" she giggled, her hands still on his shoulder though now her grip turned into a massaging roll. 

"Yeah," he laughed, sagging in his chair, " Y'scared the shit out of me." 

Her laughter only bubbled brighter. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself." 

"'S alright." He shook his head as his eyes followed (Y/N) as she fell back to sit on his bed, "You're home early." 

"Yeah," she sang, propping herself up with a hand behind her on his mattress, "My supervisor let me go early since I finished all of my reports yesterday." 

"That's nice," he smiled, making a point not to focus on the fact that seeing her in his bed elicited a much different reaction than it used to. "What are y'gonna do with all of your extra free time?" 

Something sparkled in her eyes then, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth though she made an effort to keep it from stretching wide. "That's what I came to talk to you about actually." 

"Yeah?" A flush crept up the base of his throat.

"Yeah," she chirped, "I talked to Rue and Kim, and I think we might go out tonight. They're bringing a couple of friends and I think Kim is asking her roommate to come too." 

"That'll be fun," Harry encouraged, pretending everything that happened after her last girls night didn't happen. "Y'gonna be here for dinner then, or do y'want me to save the leftovers for tomorrow?"

"Actually," she started, canting her head with a blink of her eyes, "I was wondering if you might want to come with me tonight." 

Harry's mouth suddenly ran dry. (Y/N) had talked about him joining her and her friends on a night out many different times, but he never gave it much thought. He was never one for big parties or crowded clubs, even during his university days. He was sure (Y/N) knew as much. 

He fumbled for an answer—a kind way to decline her invitation once more—, though (Y/N) seemingly met him halfway and cut him off. 

"I know you don't usually like going out like this," she started, eyes turning pleading, "But, I really, really think you'd have a good time. The bars we pick are fun, I mean it." He watched as her expression shifted, a glint passing through her eyes though her smile turned coy. "And you could meet someone, you know." 

That was the first illusion to any facet of the conversation that had taken place in his bedroom that week and a half ago. She wanted him to meet someone, still? 

While Harry had been well aware that what had transpired wasn't going to, and didn't change a single thing between them, she also hadn't again brought up the idea of setting him up. He had figured that now that she knew his secret, that she understood why he wasn't looking to find a random person in a bar, or be set up through anyone. 

(And, maybe there was the smallest, most minuscule part of him that hoped that, maybe, she was no longer interested in seeing him with someone else anymore. That, maybe she had found the same book he had pulled, and was working herself to the same page. A futile hope, he supposed). 

"I don't know, (Y/N)," he sighed, bringing his knuckle up to brush the tip of his nose, "I've still got a lot I need to get done today." 

He dared to match her gaze from where his eyes had skated over her shoulder. Her glittery, pretty, clear eyes didn't shy away from him. Her lashes flared when she blinked at him, a small gape to her lips. 

"Please, H," she murmured, a small curl touching the corner of her mouth, "You're really going to make me beg—just for a couple of hours of your time?" 

Harry swallowed, making a point to drop his gaze from hers. Beg? She was going to beg for him? 

Why would she say that? Was she trying to make him fall to the floor? Light on fire? 

A warm flush crept up his neck. "Beg?" he choked out.

"I will if you really want me to," she offered, amusement in her voice though Harry wasn't finding the joke.

"No, no, 's alright," he rushed out, sparing himself and his briefs the trouble, "Y'really want me to go?" 

"Of course, I do!" Harry hadn't realized how the air had stilled, or the way her voice had dropped until she suddenly perked up. The cheer now injected in her tone was a stark difference to whatever it was that had been between them just a moment before. "I promise you'd have so much fun; if anything we'll get to have a night out for the first time in forever." 

Truthfully, did he really think he was going to be able to say no? Especially when she sat so prettily on his bed and was willing to beg for him. 

He took in a deep breath, as if he were taking on a heavy burden before he looked to (Y/N) with thinned lips. "Okay."

It was the joy and excitement that lit her up that had Harry feeling certain in his decision. He'd never had a chance. 

"Harry, really?! I'm so excited!" She popped up from his bed only to hug him as best she could while he was still stationed in his desk chair. 

He only hesitated for a moment, his limbs stiff for a breath before he succumbed to the warmth. Feeling the strands of hair on the crown of her head tickling the tip of his nose strung memories back to the front of his mind, the kind that had his heart plunging against his ribs just as she pulled away. 

"I'm going to tell everyone, and I'll let you know what time and everything." Her chattering voice filled his room even as she began towards his door. "We should probably eat before we go out, but I'll let you know what we figure out." She paused in the threshold. "Are you excited?" 

The way she was looking at him, grin wide and eyes bright, he was only able to answer honestly. "Very excited."

With one more grin over her shoulder, she disappeared out of view. 

Harry had his eyes fixed to the door frame for a lingering moment. His lungs expanded at full capacity for the first time since she had barged in, his heart beginning to even out. He blinked as he attempted to get back to work, urging himself to focus on something familiar before he was going to have to deal with the deal he made for the night. 

When she was sitting in front of him, the perspective of a smoky bar with her sounded fun and exciting. Now he was alone with the reality of a sticky, overpriced bar being his plans for the night, he could only hope that his original excitement prevailed. 

—————

(Y/N) had her hand wrapped around Harry's wrist as she led them through the congested line in front of the bartop. He couldn't help but to mumble his sorrys and excuse mes despite knowing not a single person was listening. Holding up the rear, Harry could see ahead to where Rue and her roommate lead the charge, followed by Kim, and her boyfriend, along with Cora and her brother. The usual suspects in (Y/N)'s life; some he met back when they were both in university, others she met through work. 

Meeting up outside of the bar didn't leave much room for small talk and catching up before they were herded inside, but it was long enough for Harry to see the surprise that crossed Rue and Kim's faces. They hadn't believed that he was really going to show up tonight. And, he couldn't blame them, even if it did make him feel a bit sheepish; he hoped none of them had an ill opinion of him because of that. 

The so-called bar that had been chosen for the night was verging on a night club with the way the music was pounding loud through the room. There wasn't a designated spot for dancing , but it appeared the space had been made with the way there were few tables in the room aside from the bartop and the booths lining the room. The empty space before the DJ became the dancefloor, their warm bodies swaying and moving together. Other than strobing party lights, the bar was left in the dark. 

Rue, thanks to a connection with one of the bouncers and a bartender, was able to sweep them through the congestion in the bar to find an empty booth in the back. It was secluded, behind the large speakers of the DJ. Harry was sure he was going to have a ringing in his ears for the rest of the weekend after this, but it was a preferable spot compared to just standing around while others pushed around. 

"This good?!" Rue shouted to the line behind her (or at least Harry figured she shouted, he was just making do with reading her lips). 

It only took a few nodding heads before the group took over the vinyl seating. (Y/N) kept him close, pulling him to sit on the end of the curving booth beside her. She grinned up at him, her teeth splashed in flickers of blue and magenta thanks to the lights above. 

"What do you think!?" she bubbled, close enough that Harry could just hear the octaves of her voice. 

"'S a lot," he answered, ducking down to hover his lips by her ear, "A little sticky." 

She laughed at his words. "Yeah, I never wear cute shoes here. Thank you for coming, though." 

The way she smiled at him made up for the sweat already beginning to slick the back of his head, and the way the soles of his shoes may never be the same after this. When she looked up at him with eyes sparkling, grin wide, he wondered why he'd never said yes to a night like this before. 

"(Y/N)!" 

Whipping their heads to look across the table, Cora's brother, Colin had his gaze on (Y/N). The planes of his face were highlighted under the beams of strobing light, long shadows cast by the length of his lashes and the point of his chin. Harry knew Colin was a good looking man, and maybe that was why he felt a pinch of jealousy sting the middle of his chest. Especially when he smiled at (Y/N) like that; Harry wondered if that was what he looked like when he gazed at her too. 

"I'm going to the bar, what do you want?" 

She rattled off a simple order, something fruity and sweet that he knew was her favorite. As soon as she finished though, she looked at Harry, brows raised in question. "What do you want?" 

Flicking his eyes to Colin, Harry saw the way his lips thinned. Maybe it was because (Y/N)'s attention was spread elsewhere. Or, it could just be the way his face looked, Harry reminded himself.

Nonetheless, Harry met Colin's eyes across the table and shared his own order. "Thank you," he smiled, even if Colin didn't give more than a nod of acknowledgment. 

He and Cora excused themselves a moment later, heading back into the throes of patrons towards the bar. 

Harry didn't want to, but he had a feeling he was going to be keeping an eye on him through the night. 

At his side, (Y/N) bumped him to grab his attention. "You're going to dance with me tonight, right?" 

A smile crept onto the corners of his mouth. "I don't know, (Y/N)," he drawled, "Are y'sure you're ready for everyone to know 'm a better dancer than you?" 

She let out a peal of laughter, bright and tinkling compared to the heavy bass rattling through his bones. "I guess I'll have to manage," she teased, both of them knowing the truth about his coordination, "I promise I'll get out of your way when people start cutting in to take my place with you." 

Harry played along, graciously accepting her offer. "I think that's best for the both of us." With a moment's hesitation, he gently laid his hand on her knee. While (Y/N) didn't even blink at the contact, Harry could feel his heart rate jumping as if he wasn't the one who had made the first move. 

Especially when she threw her head back laughing and leaned right into his touch, angling her body just so, he questioned if there were any others in the room. 

As if Harry would accept anyone else's hand tonight. 

—————

Bringing the small black straw to her pursed lips, (Y/N) bit back her laughter as she saw Harry move horrendously so to the music pumping around them. Tonight's game apparently was going to be one where they threw out the worst moves they could, leaving the other to replicate them and make them that much more uncoordinated. It wasn't the right game to play if they were attempting to catch anyone's eye, but that was far from Harry's mind at the moment. All he wanted was to keep (Y/N) having fun. 

Rue, Kim, and the others weren't very far away with Colin and Kim's boyfriend having taken to staying in the booth to stake claim of the space. It wasn't hard to catch Colin looking (Y/N)'s way more than once. Even if he didn't seem particularly happy with the fact she had been sticking with Harry through most of the night, Colin hadn't tried anything more than watching on with a slight pinch to his features. 

Just as (Y/N) was going to match his move and add on something extra ridiculous, her eyes lit up, flicking over his shoulder. Spitting the chewed up straw from her mouth, she crossed the few steps between them with a giddy smile. She gestured him to lean down for her, leaving his ear level with her mouth. 

"There's a girl behind you that's been looking at you! I just saw her say something to one of her friends and point at you," (Y/N) bubbled, almost stumbling over her words, "I think she's going to come over here!" 

Harry wanted to match her excitement. He wanted to look at her smile and offer up his own. But there was nothing about this revelation that made him as excited as she wanted him to be. Was it nice to be admired, and have someone know nothing about him and still want to get to know him just from one look? Sure.

But, if that person wasn't (Y/N), he didn't have much interest. 

"I can leave if you want," she rattled on, "So she doesn't feel weird coming over here!" 

"No, no," Harry immediately fired off, "'S alright. I want to keep dancing with you." 

It was a simple admission, one that could be easily shared between friends, but felt loaded falling from his tongue. 

"But, H," (Y/N) countered, "This is the best time to meet new people! It might be fun to have someone other than me hanging around, don't you think?" 

Immediately, Harry wanted to say no. It wouldn't be very fun in his opinion, to retrace all of his vulnerabilities and secrets to be shared with someone else when (Y/N) was right there. She already knew any and everything there was to know about him, he didn't need to share any more. 

His silence was taken the wrong way by (Y/N). A gentle hand settled on his shoulder. "If you're still nervous about what you told me, I promise you'll be fine. Don't let it stop you from meeting a nice girl." She paused for a moment, Harry's throat bobbing as he swallowed around his dry tongue. "I can still help you with all of... that, anyway. If that makes you feel better." 

Suddenly, he could feel the heavy beat of his heart as it matched the bass of the music pouring from the speakers. What kind of twisted pep talk; one where she was encouraging him to meet other women and to not hold back due to his lack of prowess, while also offering to help him get some of those firsts off of his plate. 

He took in a heavy breath, grateful that he could still glean notes of her perfume over the rest of the sticky, smoky scent that filled the bar. "Yeah?" he breathed, already getting much too wrapped up in the implications of her offer. 

"Of course," she bubbled, entirely too bright for where his mind was going, "You don't have to worry about things like that. If any girl is worth your time, she'd never feel any kind of way about that part of you." 

Harry gave a slight shake of his head. "No—um—I mean... Y'really mean y'still want to help me?" 

(Y/N) reared back just enough to catch his eye, her half finished drink left to the wayside as she chewed on her bottom lip instead. "Of course." 

It verged on embarrassing how just those two innocuous words were able to cause a stirring in his stomach, his pants needing an adjustment. 

Before he had a chance to say anything in response, Harry felt a hand settle on his arm. (Y/N)'s expression loosened, her eyes widening when she saw whoever was behind him. She didn't say anything before she urged him with her hand on his shoulder to turn around, a bounce of her brows. 

Forcing himself to turn over his shoulder, Harry found a pretty girl with lengthy brown hair and honey eyes looking up at him. Her skin was powdered and highlighted to perfection, her lips a juicy pink with blush to match. Her lashes flared around her eyes, like a cat's eye. 

"Hi," she smiled, bouncing on the tips of her toes, "Sorry if I'm interrupting. I hope this isn't weird, but you're just really cute; my friends have been telling me to come and talk to you since we came in." 

Harry wanted so badly to feel flattered. He wanted to feel a flush go up his cheeks and warm his already glistening skin. But, he just didn't. 

All he felt was reluctance when (Y/N) excused herself, muttering that she was going back to the table. 

"Um," Harry fumbled, forcing a dimpled smile onto his cheeks, "Thank you. I think you're cute, too." 

It was true, the compliment. Though that was where it stopped. She was a pretty girl, but not the one he wanted. 

She let out a sweet giggle, her drink sloshing in hand. "Do you want to dance?" 

He couldn't help but to cut a look over his shoulder, finding (Y/N) sitting with Colin and Rue's roommate. An encouraging smile beamed from her features. 

He swallowed thickly. She wanted him to take this girl up on her offer. 

Honestly, he would have, if not for that smile on her face. As pretty as this girl was, she wasn't ever going to have the same creased by her eyes, the same crinkle to her nose, the same grin on her face. She wasn't the one that he saw himself readily watching reality dating shows with. She wasn't the one he wanted to end his night with. Not when (Y/N) was right there; not when she was the one he trusted the most.

"Actually," Harry started, morphing his features into an apology before the actual words even left his mouth, "I came here for a friend's birthday tonight; not really trying to meet anyone tonight." 

The lie came out less than smooth, but it appeared that was all the explanation the girl required.

Her lips formed an O as she gazed up at him. "I see, no worries," she bubbled off, shaking her head, "I totally get it! Maybe I could give you my number or something? So next time you go out, you can just text me if you want to meet up." 

Harry felt terribly guilty the more sweet and understanding she was. Rejection had never been and would never be his strong suit. And he wasn't going to be able to hone his skills tonight. 

"Sure," he choked out, already unlocking his phone to be passed along to her hands. 

She happily tapped away at his screen as she added her number to his contacts, a winking emoji stamped at the end of her name (Viola, he learned). 

"Have a fun night!" she beamed at him before leaving to rejoin her friends. 

Following suit, Harry pretended he didn't feel any eyes on him as he retreated towards (Y/N) in the booth. It was then that he caught the wolfish smile on Colin's face dissipate when he realized Harry was on his way back. 

"What happened?" (Y/N) chirped, throwing a glance around him towards the woman he retreated from. 

Harry shrugged, sliding into the booth at her side. "She and her friends are leaving soon. She gave me her number." 

(Y/N) clasped her hands in a giddy clap. "No way! She so likes you, H! I'm so happy for you!" 

It was cute, the way she bubbled his praises, as if he'd done anything at all to warrant the approach from Viola. 

"When are you going to text her?" She leaned towards him (and away from Colin) with a conspiratorial smile.

Once again, Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug. He dropped his gaze from hers, hoping she wouldn't press for more explanation when he answered, "Not sure yet." 

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, drooping some, "Well, wh—" 

Just then, thankfully so, Kim approached the table with clear eyes, her boyfriend draped around her with his own gaze looking much less coherent. "Hey, I think I'm going to take him home," she shouted to (Y/N) over the music, "Do you want to ride with us, or are you going to stay? I think Rue and Cora are planning on staying until last call." 

(Y/N) immediately looked towards Harry, brows raised in question. "Are you ready to go home? Or did you want to stay?" 

He gave a small cant of his head, warmed by the attention she gave him. "'M alright with whatever y'want to do." 

Before he even finished speaking, (Y/N) shook her head with a roll of her eyes. "No, H. What do you want to do?" 

Rolling his lips between his teeth, Harry didn't stand a chance before his mind wandered right back to the offer she made to him on the dance floor. He... Well, he would never assume that (Y/N) would drop and follow through right away, though there was a higher chance if they weren't in public. 

"I could be ready to go home, if you are." 

(Y/N)'s features softened into a smile. "Okay," she said just before turning to Kim, "We'll go home with you, if that's alright." 

It was her turn to drop a hand on his knee, a slight squeeze of her fingers around the cuff. That was all it took to have his stomach tightening and heart choking his throat. 

Harry wondered if he would always be this easy, or if it was just (Y/N). 

Hopefully, going home early would help him find out.

—————

Harry waved one last time to Kim and her boyfriend before they drove off. Behind him, on the small tiled space just past the threshold, (Y/N) struggled with her teetering heels. 

"Are y'alright?" he murmured as he closed the door, the lock clicking into place a moment later. 

"Kinda," she sighed, "Hold on." Just as he turned to face her, (Y/N) placed her hand on his abdomen. Her fingers pressed through the material of his top just over the ridges of muscles lining his torso, steadying herself as she carefully attempted to shuck her shoes off. 

His lungs stunted, his eyes dropping to where she was just short of kneeling in front of him. The last time she touched him so low on his stomach was when he had guided her palm down his abdomen before she had taken his cock in her fist. The memory had his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. 

"Sorry," she muttered, looking up at him through the fan of her lashes, a curtain of her hair hanging over her features, "I didn't want to sit on the floor—I don't think I would have gotten up." 

He knew he was supposed to laugh along, especially when she let out a breathy laugh as she was finally able to kick off her shoes. Kicking her shoes to the side, she gave a chummy pat to his stomach before she rose to her full height. When she met his gaze, her demeanor was decidedly brighter and lighter than the direction his thoughts had taken. 

"What's wrong?" she immediately chirped, her brows slanting as she gazed up at him. 

Harry forced himself back into the moment, blinking back into the middle of his home. "Um," he coughed, turning away from her prying eyes, "Nothing—sorry, I zoned out." 

"Are you sure?" (Y/N) pressed, canting her head. Her eyes fell from his face and down the line of his neck. "Do you feel hot? You're turning red, H." 

A streak of guilt trickled through his system. She was genuinely concerned for him while he was a moment away from allowing himself to imagine if she had actually dropped to her knees in front of him and made good on the offer she extended only hours prior. 

Shaking his head, he tried his best to fight off the natural reactions his body gave when it came to his roommate. "'M alright, really. Jus' a little tired, I think." 

(Y/N) initially seemed to buy his excuse, but in that same moment, he saw something flash across her gaze. Her concerned features shifted until there was a sly smile on her lips, brows bouncing above her accusing eyes. 

"Ohhh, I see," she sang as she all but bounced on her toes, "You want to go talk to your new girlfriend." 

His eyes widened at her accusation. What map had she used to get to that destination? 

"Th-That's not—'M not—"

"It's alright, I get it," she teased, putting her hands up as if in surrender, "I'll let you get to bed. Just let me know if you need any help deciphering what the amount of i's in her Hi mean, or if the exclamation points mean she's flirting or just happy." 

Harry swallowed, shaking his head. "'M not—I don't... She was nice, but I don't think 'm going to text her." 

"And, that's alright!" she bubbled, realizing he wasn't planning on playing into her chiding, "I was only teasing. At least you put yourself out there, that's all that matters." 

A short smile touched the corners of his lips. He wasn't very interested in putting himself out there when what he wanted was right here at home. "Thanks," he mumbled nonetheless. 

Her expression grew gentle then, the look of a best friend who wanted to know what was going on in her companion's head. No more teasing was going on as far as he could see. "Why are you all flustered then? You didn't drink much tonight, but it's okay if you're feeling sick." 

"No, I—" he cut himself off before he stumbled into revealing the truth. "'S nothing." 

(Y/N) was skeptical, that much was obvious on her face. "Harry." 

"(Y/N), 'm fine." 

She canted her head, looking up at him through fanned lashes. "Harry." 

"(Y/N)." 

"Harry, there's no way anything you're thinking can be that bad, that you can't even tell me." 

There was something in the lilt of her voice, the way she so innocently pushed to know more about him in that moment. Harry wasn't sure what exactly it was, but there wasn't much fight left but the time she finished speaking. 

Truly, once again, he'd laid bare each and every of his secrets and most embarrassing moments before her. What was one more? 

For a split second, he thought back into that crowded bar. 

I can still help you with all of... that, anyway. 

He could still feel the fan of her breath tickling across his neck. He saw the way her lashes fluttered as she looked up at him with clear eyes. He saw the sincerity in her irises—both just before in the bar, as well as when she was wrapped up in his sheets. 

All of this because he had the breath taken away from him when he saw her almost kneel in front of him when taking off her shoes. 

"H—" 

"I was thinking about you," he rushed out, unintentionally cutting her off, "And, the—uh—thing y'said at the bar. About... helping me." 

A look of confusion struck her expression before she seemingly caught up. Her eyes brightened, a near imperceptible drop of her gaze down his form before she returned to his face. 

"Oh. Are you... right now?"

 They both knew the answer to her question. The suspicion only confirmed when he didn't offer any response. 

Her socked feet shifted over the carpet, the front door still only mere feet away. A small reminder that he'd not even fully made it into his home before he was taken by the sight of her alone. 

"You want... me?" 

The genuine curiosity in her tone was enough to have Harry's insides beginning to roil. Of course, he wanted her; she was the only person he can remember wanting enough to act this vulnerable. 

"Um, yeah," he answered, tongue fumbling over the words, "By the door, you were... almost on your knees." 

Peeking at her, Harry gauged her reaction to his admission. 

He watched as she blinked, lashes fluttering. Her eyes dropped down from his eyes, skipping to his pelvis. Harry didn't have to follow her gaze to know that she was seeing the slight semi he was sporting through his trousers. 

"Really?" she chirped, looking up at him through her wispy lashes. 

Harry shrugged, only a single corner of his lips daring to give a slight curl. "Back at the bar," he started, "Y'said... y'still wanted to help, so." 

He didn't need to say more, not when a light entered (Y/N)'s gaze. She tilted her head as she looked up at him. A sweet smile bloomed over her lips.

"And you've just been thinking about that?" 

His smile turned sheepish. He didn't think this was the time to really detail just how often she was on his mind.

A sparkling laugh fell from her lips then. "C'mon then, H," she bubbled, taking his hand in hers.

Something akin to a daze fell over his body. Harry didn't feel a single breath of hesitation as he followed (Y/N) from the front door. All he did was follow her steps to their sofa, his eyes unabashedly landing on her backside and the way her skirt hugged her hips. 

"You said you liked me on my knees, right?" 

Harry didn't think before he was humming a confirmation. 

"Then I have an idea for something new tonight." 

It was then that she dragged him to sit down on the sofa. Harry blinked, unsure of what to do with his hands before (Y/N) took her spot before him. On her knees. 

His heart was reeled right up to his throat. She wasn't... 

With her knees cushioned by their plush area rug (one she bought into the equation when she moved in), she scooted towards him. Her skirt rolled up over the smooth skin of her thighs, revealing more and more of her, parts that Harry couldn't help but to imagine gripping and squeezing in the heat of the moment. 

"Is this okay?" she asked, so sweet and kind. Her hands landed on the cuffs of his knees. 

"Um," Harry started, his mouth incredibly dry as it fell into a gape as he gazed down at her, "Yeah—Yes. Really okay." 

The smile on her lips was so pretty. It wasn't fair that she would just look like that, not when she was working her hands up his thighs. 

"You're funny, H." 

He wanted to respond, really. But then she started undoing the fastenings of his trousers. He could do nothing other than watch her manicured fingers unbutton the waist and pull down the zipper. His cock stirred even just from the slight brushes of her hands. 

Goosebumps erupted on his skin when she started pulling down his pants. Harry could feel her eyes on him when he lifted his hips to help her along, the kind of warm feeling that had his spine stringing up straight. 

The warmth was no doubt becoming visible on his skin, a flush creeping up from the base of his throat to the apples of his cheeks. His lips were parted, breaths coming out in quiet puffs as (Y/N)'s deft fingers crept up his thighs. The inky tiger tattooed on the meat of his leg was delicately traced with the tip of her fingernail. His cock jumped. 

"You said you've never done anything before?" she pressed, her voice drawing him in as if he weren't already hooked. 

Harry swallowed, his throat bobbing. "Other than what we've done, yeah." 

"Okay," she sounded, her fingers now creeping under the hem of his briefs, "We'll figure out what you like then. If I do something that feels good, just tell me and I'll keep doing it." 

She said it so simply, as if they weren't talking about what he was going to feel when she put him in her mouth. The feel of her touch under the legs of his briefs was enough to have his toes curling in his shoes, his hands reaching for the fallen throw blanket behind him. 

Had it really only been a week or so since they were holed up in his bedroom? His body reacted to her like he was starved, hungering for even a brush of her hand over his bare skin. Had he really thought that having her once was going to be enough to get her out of his system? Had he thought that just one touch was going to be enough? 

Harry practically sunk into the sofa when she pulled one of her hands from the leg of his underwear and instead brushed over the bulge of his cock. He felt the press of her hand over his length, the ridge of his head pressing into her palm. The catch of her nails over his thigh as she scratched down over his tattoo was felt through his body, his bottom lip being caught between his teeth.

He was only slightly aware of her eyes skipping up to land on his face while his own were trained on her hand palming his length through his boxers. The material began to stretch further as he stiffened against her touch, the cut at the front of his underwear pulling open.

When the first blurt of precum stained the front, Harry felt more of that heat creep up his skin. 

"Sorry," he murmured, already anticipating the mess that he was going to have to clean up tonight. 

"Why?" she asked, so easily with her eyes peeking up at him. 

So badly did Harry want to answer her, but she also decided to hook her fingers underneath the waist of his underwear in that same moment the question was posed. His mind went momentarily blank. All he could process was the catch of her nails over his hip bones, the drag of the material over his sensitized length, the fact that it was (Y/N).

Her question was lost when they both turned to focus on his cock as it bobbed free of the confines of his boxers. The head was already ruddy, veins roping around the length. Thank god he had just trimmed up down there before going out. 

"Okay?"

Blinking back to the world, Harry looked to (Y/N) with a gape to his lips. "Huh?" 

Her smile was too pretty to be fair. Especially not when she was seemingly bracing herself from her spot on her knees between his legs. "You're okay?" 

"Y-Yeah," he breathed, mouth moving faster than his head, "'M so okay—so fucking okay. I've been thinking about this all week." 

Her brows shot up over her eyes, light flitting through her eyes. "Really? Even when you were talking to your girlfriend tonight?" 

He knew, in the back of his mind, that she was teasing him. The way she said the word full of extra sing-song syllables, the same way she would have teased him if he weren't half naked. But there was absolutely no room in his head where he could find any joke to play along. 

"I was thinking about y'the whole time," he confessed, "She—She's not you." 

"Harry," she crooned, her eyes soft and rounded, "You can't talk like that. Not when I'm about to suck you off; you'll make me cry instead. And not in a hot way." 

Unable to hold back any more, Harry let out a flowing moan. The gravel of his voice filled their home, disrupting the hushed tones they had been using before. 

Why would she say that? When he was barely holding everything together, why would she say that?

He couldn't keep his mind from wandering to the idea of her blinking back tears with her lips stretched around his cock. Harry never wanted to see her shed any tears—especially over him—but this idea, full of smudged mascara and glossy eyes, didn't sound so bad at all. 

His composure being something just out of reach, Harry didn't have a chance before he could feel the breath of (Y/N)'s slight laugh fanning across his heated length. Just barely was he able to force himself to peel his eyes open to catch sight of her pressing her lips to the head of his cock. 

It was a gentle kiss, the same kind that she would plant on his cheek when in a particularly touchy mood. Not the kind of thing that should have made the muscles banding his thighs and blocking his abdomen grow exponentially tighter.

Harry tightly clutched the throw blanket at his sides, the material thinning against the force of his fingers. Nothing could have prepared him for how deeply something so simple affected him.

(Y/N) continued with only a small crease appearing between her brows. She kissed the crown of his length more than once, dragging the pillows of her pretty lips over the heated skin. As innocent as the act appeared, it was immediately stomach twisting when he saw the way the thin strings of his cum connected her mouth to his head. The gloss she had lost back at the bar, was back in the form of Harry's own pleasure. 

Pinning his bottom lip between his teeth, he watched with clenched hands while (Y/N)'s own moved along the strength of his thighs. One stayed braced over the ink of his tiger, fingertips denting the plush skin in an anchoring touch. The other continued on until her fist was wrapped around the base. 

A swift breath was sucked in through his nose at the touch. Once again, he was reminded that his hand paled in comparison to hers. No one else in the world could be as soft, as gentle, as firm, as perfect as she was. 

Her name fell from his lips in crooning prayers, Harry sinking further into the cushion. 

Though he was sure his lungs stopped only a heartbeat later. Silence fell over the house, Harry's mouth dropped open in a soundless moan as she took her kissing a step further and tucked his head between her lips. 

The heat of her mouth felt scorching over his sensitive skin, her soothing tongue laving over him.  Her hand at the base of his cock worked up and over his length in lingering strokes. 

Why hadn't anyone told him it could feel like this? No wonder there were millions of videos on seedy sites just about this subject alone. After last week, he doubted any pleasure could top that, and yet, here he was. 

Before he had a chance to become accustomed to the feel of her mouth, (Y/N) pulled away with a soft pop of her lips. She kept her hand moving along his length as she gazed up at him, head canted. 

"Do you want me to go deeper? Or do you like that?" she murmured, her voice lingering and warm. 

"Deeper, deeper," he rushed out, lips slicked and swollen. 

She didn't give anything more than a short smile before Harry watched as she dipped her head and took him back between her lips. 

A moan of her name fell from his lips, sandwiched between swears too jumbled to make much sense of. True to her offer, she lingered over his head for only a moment before she surged forward, taking him deeper. Harry felt hypersensitive at that moment.  

He swore he could feel each bud on her tongue pillowing against his sensitive length. The gentle suction of her cheeks hollowing out around him. The coaxing of her throat as she swallowed him down the further she took him. 

Saliva dripped down his length, slicking her hand as she continued the rhythmic pumping. Harry couldn't look away, but could barely keep his eyes open. 

Watching her felt like looking into the sun—like he was going to go blind, like he couldn't watch for longer than a moment before was going to lose it. But, he couldn't look away. He was lucky enough to have had her touch once, let alone twice. He couldn't act like this was ever going to happen a third time. He had to savor each and every moment. 

Even when he felt the tight channel of her throat closing around the very tip of his cock, he forced his eyes to stay open. Even when he saw that moment that had his muscles going taut with (Y/N)'s eyes growing glossy. It should have broken his heart to see her blinking back tears, but he only felt the winding of the pit of his stomach. 

Twice in a row, he was not going to be able to last. Twice in a row was he going to embarrass himself in front of his ultimate dream girl. 

But, god, was it worth it. 

"(Y/N), I—" 

She cut him off with a slight gag closing her throat, enough for her to pull off for a steadying breath. Her mouth was slick and swollen, dropped in a gape as she dragged in breath after breath. 

"Sorry," she mumbled, continuing the strokes of her hand, "Scared myself. I just need a second." 

"Don't be sorry, don't be sorry," he muttered, finally giving in and throwing his head back with his eyes screwed shut. Precum streamed out of his cock, vein throbbing "You're perfect, love. So perfect." 

The breathy laugh she let out was watery. "Thanks, H. You're perfect, too." 

He should have felt silly, having given out such rambling praise right now, when it would no doubt sound like the lusty thoughts of a horny mind. Not like the honesty that slipped out in a vulnerable moment. 

Though, he didn't have any longer than a pair of heartbeats to dwell before (Y/N) wiped any and all thoughts from his head. The glorious, wonderful, perfect heat of her mouth enveloped him once more. She sucked around him, matching the tight grip of her fist around his base.

"Fuck, fuck, (Y/N)," he chattered, surprised he hadn't ripped a hole in the fabric of the throw blanket puddled around him, "'M gonna cum, 'm sorry, 'm sorry. Y'don't hav-have to—" 

Pulling off of him just enough to press her pursed lips to the tip again, (Y/N) shook her head. "I want to. It's okay, honey. Do whatever you want." 

Maybe it was the vibration of her voice echoing around his length, or the sight of her pretty mouth parting for her soft tongue to lick over his head, or the encouragement that she wanted to take his cum—whatever it was, was all he needed. The bunched muscles lining his bones finally gave way, releasing him like a rubber band snapping as his hips lifted from the cushion. 

He unraveled on the sofa, a warning on his lips that didn't make it in time before the first rope spurted out of him. His lungs were stunted as he watched the first dredge released over her mouth, following the line of her nose and dripping to the shape of her lips. (Y/N) closed her eyes, a soft gasp falling from her pretty, swollen, glazed lips. It was only a second before she tucked the head of his cock back between her lips, swallowing the rest of his release. 

She continued the stroke of her hand, working him through the throes without lagging. Every pump of his release was swallowed down by (Y/N), the motion sending aftershocks through him. The grip she held on his thigh, with her nails digging into the skin was the only bite of clarity offered in that moment. 

The world felt so small then, consisting of only he and (Y/N) and the throw blanket he was never going to complain about being balled up on the sofa ever again. There could never be anything else worthy of his attention when (Y/N) looked up at him with glossy eyes, bottom lashes clumping together. All with the traces of his cum having painted over her face. 

"What the fuck?" Harry breathed out, a slight bit of delirious laughter falling from his lungs as he melted against the couch. His head fell back against the cushion, fingers cramping as he unravelled from the throw blanket. 

Pulling away with a pop, (Y/N) allowed him to come down without the distraction of her touch. 

"Good what the fuck? Or bad?" she breathed, letting go of his leg with one final squeeze. 

"Good," Harry cemented with a nod, "So good." 

Sucking in a deep breath, he pulled his head from where it had lolled against the cushions. Just in time to see her swiping her fingers through the mess on her face, licking his cum from her fingers. 

Maybe his head was still in the clouds, the lack of oxygen having made him delirious and impulsive, but Harry didn't give a second thought before he was leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. 

He could taste something salty and heady on her mouth, but he didn't care. There had been plenty of times before this that Harry wanted to kiss her, but this was the first time he couldn't find a single reason not to. He was convinced that this was the only way he could possibly show her how much he appreciated, and revered, and cared for her after she did such an act for him. 

Her skin was just a touch sticky as he cradled her cheeks between his palms, their swollen lips sealed together. The very tip of his nose grazed the bridge of her own as he tipped his head just enough. 

By the time his head caught up to his body, he realized she had gone stiff, mouth parted as if in the process of gasping. 

A string of curses ran through his head. What was he thinking? Is he stupid? Or just so horny and touch starved, this seemed like a good idea?

Just as he made a move to pull away, (Y/N) pressed forward, kissing back. Matching his movements, she tilted her head and pursed her lips. It was Harry's turn to feel the slight gaze of her nose tracing his skin. The creases in their lips lined up perfectly, fitting together like jigsaw pieces. 

Now was far from the time to confess just how many times he pictured and wondered what it would be like to kiss (Y/N), but suffice to say, the reality was galaxies better than the fantasy. 

It was a short kiss, lasting only long enough for Harry to hear his heartbeat in his ears before he pulled back.  

(Y/N)'s eyes were bright as she gazed up at him. "What was that for?" she whispered, voice croaky. 

Harry shook his head. He could go on, listing for days, though maybe that was for another time. 

"Jus' thank you." 

The smile that bloomed over her mouth was sweet and sticky, glossed by saliva and a mess Harry was going to feel more guilty over once his head was clear. 

 "You're silly, H," she murmured, tipping her chin just enough to peck his lips, "You're welcome." With that, she stood to the full of her height, Harry's hands falling back to his sides. "I'll be right back. I'm going to clean up my face, but maybe we could have a sleepover out here tonight?"

It was the way she looked at him, like this was just another night of bonding with her best friend, that was going to make his heart both bloat and break. 

Harry nodded instinctively. "That sounds like fun, (Y/N)." 

She bounced in her spot with a chattery cheer before starting off to her room, promising to be back in just a moment. 

He watched her bedroom door swing closed behind her, left alone in the quiet of the living room. Harry made an effort to put himself back together, underwear and pants pulled back up though he didn't bother to refasten them before he started towards his own bedroom. He needed to gather a few things for their sleepover, and that was what he was going to focus on and not the buzzing of his lips. Not the way his legs felt like jelly, his lungs rivaling the pounding of his heart. 

How much of a fool was he? He was never going to be able to keep from crossing that flimsy, self-appointed line that reminded him that she was nothing more than his roommate and wasn't going to ever be anything else. That boundary was miles behind him, unable to be seen. Not anymore, at least. 

Not after tonight. 

—————

figs are the roman symbol of Dionysus, god of wine, and priapus, satyr of sexual desire

ahhhhh thank u sm for reading! sorry for any mistakes and I cant wait hear what everyone thinks! any fun ideas or requests pleaseeeee send them in!

[chrissv4mp]

𐙚 ᯓ NOVEMBER — ᡣ𐭩

she tried to stop herself, she really did!

the first week passed easily, and she was perfectly fine the week after that, and maybe that was because she was on tour, but she still did well and didn't touch herself! another reason that she was maintaining such a calm, composed personality was because you weren't around to trigger any desperate, needy feelings she had buried deep down a whole week before november came. but when she finally flew into la from denver and you greeted her at the door, wearing a tight tank-top and just panties, those feelings that had almost become foreign came back to bite her.

she kept herself together the first few days of finally being able to see you, touch you, and taste you. just your lips, of course, because you had also become very determined to win, especially since you were the one who brought up the stupid challenge. neither of you had been very touchy those days, either, and billie hated it. she hated it whenever you would push her away when she'd come up behind you to give you a hug, or when you'd press a finger to her lips when she leaned in to kiss you after a long day. it was torture, but she had to endure it because she wasn't gonna lose this dumb little game of yours.

those were her thoughts until you had walked out of the bathroom one morning with nothing covering your body. droplets of water slid down your perfect skin, your damp hair cascading over your shoulders when you tilted your head, and your beautiful tits on full display for her hungry eyes. if she wasn't hard from your teasing earlier that morning, she definitely was now. you played the whole thing off by saying you, 'forgot your towel,' when she knew full well that you never once entered the bathroom without one, always complaining how cold it was when you stepped out from beneath the warm water. billie just rolled back into bed and hid under the covers, stopping herself from screaming out of anger as she fisted the sheets in her hands.

when you had finally left to run errands, though, she really couldn't help herself. the image of your wet, naked body was burned into her mind, something she couldn't forget even if she tried to. she pushed the bedsheets off of her body the second she heard the click of the front door closing, her hands still grabbing at the sheets as she pondered the idea of actually touching herself when december was just around the corner. the consequences didn't pass her mind even for a second when she made up the excuse that it was only once, and you'd never find out. so she slipped her plaid pajama pants off and almost tore her boxers while tugging them down her thighs, not having enough patience to pull them down to her ankles.

her eyes flickered upwards toward the bathroom, biting her plump bottom lip in an effort to stop it from trembling. within only a few seconds, she completely rid herself of the clothes on her lower half and scurried into the bathroom, quickly grabbing the panties you forgot to throw in the laundry bin before running back over to the bed. she spread herself out in the middle of the mattress, back resting against the headboard, one hand grabbing at her exposed thigh and the other holding your panties in a tight grip. there were beads of pre-cum escaping her red, aching tip, dribbling down her dick and making a mess of her thighs. she loosened her grip on your panties before bringing them to her face, your scent making her audibly moan into the quiet room.

she finally wrapped her hand around her length, hips bucking subconsciously in the grip of her own fingers. a whimper was muffled by your panties as she stroked herself softly, getting herself worked up just as you would do if you were here. her eyes fluttered shut as she parted her lips, gulping down the saliva that pooled in her mouth from the anticipation and thrill of it all. she tilted her head back, letting the hand that held your panties move to grip at the pillow beside her shaking body. her thumb rubbed over her leaking tip as she stroked herself again, mouth parting wider as the touch sent shocks through her entire body, making her back arch and her toes curl. the knot in her stomach was already tightening, her teasing touches working herself up to the edge already. only a few seconds, and she was already about to bust. lord knows how long she would've lasted if she hadn't touched herself today.

"mm—mommy, fuck...!" she whined brokenly, her breathing uneven and her strokes becoming more vigorous, more needy. she needed her release like she needed air, her hips stuttering against her hand as she felt tingles all over her skin. her eyes were closed so tight she saw stars behind them, her movements so rough the bed shook beneath her already shaking body. thoughts of your reaction popped into her head, and it only made her cry out in pleasure, tears brimming at her eyes from how good her own hands felt after almost a month. she knew since the beginning she was gonna be the loser, but she didn't even admit it, and she still wouldn't, even after you came home, "pleasepleaseplease—!" she moaned, voice breaking as her breaths came out in short gasps, her head spinning with the image of your body and your 'clueless' face when you knew damn well what you were doing.

her eyes shot open when she heard a knock at the open bedroom door, a pornographic moan escaping her lips as thick, white ropes of cum came from her tip. she whimpered as she felt your gaze on her needy, trembling body, her sweet juices making a mess on her stomach and her thighs. you gasped in faux surprise as you stepped closer, leaning over the edge of the bed to take a look at what she'd done. you had to stop yourself from giggling, biting your lip and looking up at her as you feigned disappointed, "pretty baby couldn't even wait 2 more days, could she?" you coo, stroking her thigh and feeling as her body jolted just from your touch. she murmurs her apologies, her mind still too fucked-out to even process what she was apologizing for. still, she whined, her hands reaching out for you as she murmured your name shyly, "m'sorry, mama i—!" she cut herself off with a whiny moan when she felt your fingers wrap around her cock, eyes widening as she tensed beneath your hand. fuck, she was in for it.

@mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @devynscomet @afteraftercare @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @hopelessfawn @zayluvss @meliciousmel13 @karaeilishh

[solavita]

.ೃ࿐ brothers best friend satoru who is absolutely pretending that he's not eying you every single fucking time that you come downstairs. he's trying to hide it, but he is literally terrible at it that you're surprised that suguru doesn't notice it. but you do, and you can't help but love the way that it makes you feel. baby blue orbs that were practically eye fucking you, his best friends little sister who seemed to not care to give him the light of the day.

.ೃ࿐ brothers best friend satoru who is up later than suguru when he is sleeping over at your house, downstairs getting himself a glass of water when he sees you already in the kitchen, grabbing something from the fridge. you're dressed in a skimpy nightgown that you definitely crafted with the idea of him seeing it, and he goes absolutely feral. of course, being gojo, he tries to play it off. but he's horrible at it, and instead doesn't even hide the fact that he wants to take you in every position that he can think of.

.ೃ࿐brothers best friend satoru who fucks you right then and there, bending you over the kitchen table, pulling your panties to the side and fucking you at an insane pace. he puts his hand over your mouth and whispers in your ear how you wouldn't want your big brother to hear how much of a slut you were being for him. afterwards, he acts like nothing happened, even though you definitely had the handprints on your ass to prove it.

.ೃ࿐ brothers best friend satoru who sneaks through your window in the middle of the night whenever you call him to come over. the second he's in the window, he's on you, kissing you like there is no tomorrow. he pushes you against the door of your bedroom and gets on his knees, going under your skirt and eating you out like you're his last meal. you squeal and whine, your hands clawing through his hair to try and keep yourself steady. your knees begin to buckle and with a laugh and a "not so soon, princess" he's pulling away, edging you over and over again.

.ೃ࿐ brothers best friend satoru who come over to your house to hang out with suguru more and more. except most of the time he is in the bathroom, complaining to his friend that he has a stomach problem when he's really in the hallway making out with you, branding you with marks that only he'll be able to see.

.ೃ࿐ brothers best friend satoru who fingers you under the blanket that all three of you are sharing one movie night. you begged suguru to let you hang out with the two of you, putting on a movie that you knew all three of you would like. his fingers are light at first, teasing you in a way that no one else could. soon enough, you were turning up the movie, saying that you couldn't hear it, when really you were trying to shush the squelching that your needy pussy was doing under his mannerisms. you were sure that you came at least four times, all with suguru not even batting an eyelash at how red you got after the movie ended.

.ೃ࿐ brothers best friend satoru who cums in you every single time to mark you as his. he likes thinking about his cum dripping out of you while you walk around your house, no one knowing how much of a whore you are, just for him. "oh yeah baby, oh fuck, just like that" spewing from his mouth when you let him cum on your face, brandishing you as his forever and ever. he didn't care what suguru had to say. you were his.

[pinkcaraz]

ok short summary of things taylor talked about during his just chatting portion of the stream (11/27/24). i definitely missed some stuff bc his stream was super quiet and i was doing other stuff but yea i summarized most of the points. also i left out a few parts about details on league since i didn't rly think anyone would care that much about it LOL.

taylor got home 5 days ago, had training today, will probs start hitting tmr, said he should have maybe taken more days off

he saw the novandy news, said it'll be super nice to have andy back and that he was def not expecting it

he hasn't finished arcane yet, he's waiting for morgan to watch it together

he bought a custom (?) cloud pendant (i think from an anime i'm not sure) for a chain

talking about watching faker at worlds and how insane it is bc he could see his screen and see that he was tabbing around watching all the different perspectives

wants caedrel to coach him LOL told chat to spam him to coach him in league

scuffed stream 😭 he's fumbling w his mic and facecam

he said hes former top 100 NA fifa player, said team italy should have invited them so he could smoke them at fifa LMAO

got asked why does he take off left shoe during breaks? theres a spot that hurts when he slides around so taking his shoe off to let it chill helps relieve the pain

jealous of jannik and iga for being able to slide into backhands (he was more specific about the type of shot but i missed it)

bragging about his win rate in league (again)

talking about frances' serve time violations in shanghai thought the first 2 calls of time violation were bs, but def thought the one where he faked the ball toss was valid

said he'd answer controversial tennis questions LOL

got asked why sour cream and guac? bc he doesn't like spicy that much

london airbnb incident - they booked the airbnb the day before they got there, he thought the people trying to rob the airbnb probs thought they weren't there, morgan noticed sketchy people walking up to the door in the middle of the night, he tried to bolt the door but there wasn't a bolt so he held it shut w his body, he had his racket w him and said he would have hit the intruders w a slice forehand if they got in LMAO

thoughts on racket smashing - thinks it's entertaining, ok if not putting others in danger/at risk, thinks it's entertaining for people/fans to see, somewhat humanizing effect on the player, not healthy to keep anger in, don't do it on grass tho bc it ruins the court

talking about his match v daniil - thought that one game was funny but didn't think he was intentionally throwing the match

tommy and frances playing mind games by overcomplimenting their opponent (thinking about the laver cup fed '05 moment)

hits ohbhs in practice sometimes bc he thinks his "one-y" is unbelievable, rule is he's allowed to hit it until he hits a bad one then goes back to normal

any profits he gets from the stream will go to charity ! he's interested in donating to things that help kids

players don't pay for hotels while they're in tournaments but pay for everything else

thinks michael (his coach) should def win best coach, sportsmanship award will probs go to carlos or casper

thinks most improved award should consider older players more like draper, popyrin, musetti, himself, also jasmine paolini, etc. bc it's more impressive when older players improve compared to younger guys who have more time - for ex, gmp improved a lot this yr in ranking bc he was alrdy good and finally got time to actually play to raise his ranking

preference on armstrong vs ashe - more of a preference about which times to play, armstrong has better times for him

can go through like 5 pairs of shoes during a hard court major bc of all the sliding around

said he heard a lot of positive feedback about the wta finals from the players - players were taken care of well, knows that the previous wta finals tournaments have been rough

was gonna go to usc for college if he went to college, he verbally committed to usc, but didn't really plan on going to college

taylor bought and had flowers sent to morgan in LA

said watching worlds was super sick and he thought the opening ceremony was amazing, gumayushi's pose went hard

he doesn't save vods bc he doesn't want people to clip stuff and pull stuff he said, said he feels it allows him to be more authentic on stream

slkjhfajkf he talked about the liking a homophobic tweet on accident and said he freaked out bc he was having a chill no phone day and when he went to check socmed he was like "omg i'm canceled" IM DEAD

favorite league character to play rn is viego, he wins a lot of games on him

thinks the tennis calendar should def be shorter

[kingkat12]

so... this is the deleted original ending to the first chapter of seven minutes in heaven. made centuries ago. enjoy!!

(it sorta starts in the middle of the closet scene, so here goes nothing)

WARNINGS: SMUT! SMUT! ROMAN BEING AN ASSHOLE! mind control powers being used for BAD bad bad BAD things!! implied mind control during sex so is it dub-con?, dark!Roman, not-so-happy-ending

word count: 1,811

a/n: there was a reason this version was scrapped... it felt too dark and not fun and urgh i'm simply posting this as an ancient artifact lol. it might suck as i wrote this back in august, but oh well!!!

(Roman is NOT a feminist in this one, so... irony<333 generalizing cunt)

 "And I reckon this is your first time playing?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, no longer meeting his gaze. I couldn't look at him, not right not, not when we were this close and alone. 

"So..." Roman ran his fingers through his hair, the usual smirk returning. "You know what usually happens in here, or...?"

I rolled my eyes; "I'm not an idiot,"

"I know," Roman's voice got lower, breathier, and he took a step closer. There wasn't much room for more steps, actually— it was getting rather cramped up at this point. "But if there's anything you've wanted to try out, now's the time."

My breath hitched, hoping the thumping of my heart wasn't audible to him. 

It was almost as though Roman could sense how nervous I was; he bent down a little, getting on my level before he whispered; "I won't tell Letha,"

Feeling his hot breath against my skin, how dangerously close he was, was almost too much for me. The way he said it made me even more conscious of what was happening; I hadn't even told Letha how crazy I was about Roman, and I knew she'd be against it.

However... I was being served my biggest dream on a platter. Maybe if I got this bit over with, my feelings would subside and go back to being purely hateful again? 

I mustered up the courage, letting out a shaky breath before I opened my mouth to speak; "Could you maybe... kiss me?" My words came out barely louder than a whisper. "I've just had a really shitty night."

Roman's expression remained unchanged. "I'm sorry to hear that,"

"... No, you're not,"

"Okay, you might be right," He let out a soft laugh against my lips, and my eyes quickly darted down to his hands to check if he wasn't holding a needle or no. That was when I knew my anxiety was through the roof. "So... you want a kiss? That's all?"

This was too nerve-wracking. I kept imagining that he would say no, that he would reject me somehow and make me the only girl at school he wouldn't want to do anything with— that would definitely make me hate him even more. In a flash moment of weakness (which I later blamed the alcohol for), I sighed; "Just... could you? Or am I asking for too much?"

Something about Roman's expression changed— he seemed to realize what it was that I was actually asking of him. Not to make out, not to drown in one another, but the simplest of all things romance; affection. Something gentle, something sweet, just to check if he had a sliver of anything resembling that in his system. 

"You like me, don't you?" Roman whispered, nudging his nose against mine, eyes rounding out as he heard my breath hitch at the simple gesture. "This is what all of this has been about?"

I closed my eyes, revelling in the feeling. It was the smallest thing, yet it was a comfort in the midst of the conversation. "All of what?"

"Your anger," Roman let out a sigh, connecting our foreheads, closing his eyes as well. "You can't stand that you like me, can you?"

For some reason, I felt the urge to cry overcome me— I spent a few seconds pressing down the stream of tears that threatened to surface. Having someone say it out loud felt like a desperately needed release. "It's been a nightmare,"

Roman stilled, eventually letting out a hum which sent a shiver down my spine. "You know nothing about nightmares," he breathed against my lips. "If I tell Letha we fucked in here, you'll be living through your worst one."

I shouldn't have been so shocked— I should've expected this. I should've known that Roman would spin this around on me. I definitely knew he wouldn't reciprocate, but this? What was it, revenge? 

"I could make your every waking moment a living hell," he continued, his cold hands suddenly travelling up my body, gripping my waist with a grip I was afraid would bruise. "Letha would take my side, of course... Who else do you have but her, hm?"

I wanted to break out into tears, now grabbing at his hands. Almost panicked, I tried to get him off of me, but to no avail. "I'll leave you alone," I pleaded, finding his eyes.

"Nah, that's not what I want," I could see the sadistic satisfaction overcome him— I saw how he broke out into a wide grin at the sight of my glossy eyes. "How about we make a deal?"

Making a deal with the devil reincarnated? Very smart move, on my part. Fucking genius. "Okay?"

Roman hummed, his harsh grip around my waist releasing, allowing me to finally suck in a heave of air. Catching me off guard, he suddenly pressed his lips against my forehead with the softest touch I had ever felt— was he trying to throw me off course? 

"Start being nice..." Roman murmured, his now hands drawing soothing circles onto my back. "And I will reward you."

I let out a shaky breath; I was thankful that the agreement didn't involve any needles. "... That's all?"

"That's all," Roman echoed, pulling away to watch my expression. "You and your mouth have been making my life hell, do you know that? So if you can calm the fuck down, we could both get what we want. How does that sounds?"

I wasn't completely sold. "And what is it that you think I want?"

Roman's eyes darkened; he knew he had won. "Me," 

Oh, how I hated him. I hated him, and I knew I always would. But as his lips ghosted over mine, seconds away from touching, I didn't stand a chance anymore when the following words sounded past his plush lips; "I have a feeling I might have to put you in your place a little, hm? Maybe you'd even want that? Because honestly, I know girls like you... You fight until your last breath, then you're completely in denial, and then you'll fall apart the minute you get what you've always wanted,"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was this... me? 

"And you've always wanted to be one of my girls, haven't you?" Roman leaned down, pressing a deadly soft kiss against my cheek which nearly took my breath away; I could feel him smirk against my skin. "Or maybe... the only one?"

At this point, I felt so broken down that I gave in to a nod. 

Roman's hand slowly ghosted up my body until his fingers gently wrapped around my neck, holding me in place, almost as though he feared I would run; "I can arrange that, y'know?"

This conversation had unlocked a deep, dark part of me that I didn't know I had— like this, completely at his mercy, I had a feeling I was made to be his. Brainwashed. That I was put on this earth to find him and be with him, and that we were destined to be together. It made me feel so weak and pathetic that my lower lip eventually gave in to a quiver, feeling a sob build.

Roman let go of my neck, stroking his fingers through my hair. "Shh, no need for that... You're fine, you're okay. It's just me."

Just me. Just Roman. He who that had haunted my dreams for months, the only one I could think of when I got myself off, and the one I had been longing for from afar for so long that it turned into burning hate. 

Roman must've felt like he was done torturing me, finally meeting my lips with the most gentle kiss I had ever shared. This was all I had ever wanted— he was right. My heart beat hard in my chest as I let myself melt against his dangerously soft lips. 

I wanted to be his, no matter the cost. No matter what happened or what I had to sacrifice. 

I loved Roman Godfrey.

... and I was sure of it now.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Yes— This was right.

Of course. 

I loved him. 

I loved him, I loved him, God, how I loved him. With every fibre of my being, I loved him. 

I loved the feeling of his body against mine, corrupting my mind until I was nothing but mindless. A small part of me also loved that it was our little secret, and ours only. 

Letha didn't have a clue, of course— I had kept my act up quite well when I was around her. I had kept it up around everyone else as well, but the anger that was ravaging through my system, the hate that was burning me up from inside was currently being mended by one thing and one thing only;

"A-Aah—"

My fingers tangled into Roman's hair, feeling his bruising grip around my hips tighten as he fucked me into my mattress. I let out a small cry, feeling my legs starting to go numb after how long they had been thrown over his broad shoulders. Deep down, I didn't care— nothing could put out the angry fire in my soul like Roman did. Nothing was a better remedy than feeling his cock inside me, no matter what, when, or where.

I let out a gasp as Roman shifted, pulling me into his lap with ease. I couldn't feel my legs now, and I had a sense that he knew— he barely had to put any strength into moving me around, especially with how he was towering over me in general. 

I let out a gasp as he sunk me down on his length, and I gripped his shoulders with a short squeak for support. Heavy breaths escaped my parted lips as I clung to him, whimpering at the feeling of his thick cock stroking my insides. 

Roman seemed beyond content, gazing up at me with half-lidded eyes. He revelled in the sight of how ruined I was before he attached his soft lips to my collarbone to bring forth a hickey, humming. That was the one place we both knew Letha wouldn't see it, after all. 

It was impossible not to submit to the devil reincarnated when sex could feel this good with him. It didn't matter that I had practically sold my soul for this, because every second, every stroke of his cock, was worth it. 

"You're heaven," he murmured, lifting my hips and pushing himself further into me, taking more control. "You feel so... shit, this is heaven—"

Ironic.

And just as I felt my climax approaching, flashes of thoughts I had suppressed came crashing forward. No matter how nice all of this felt, I couldn't help but wonder how I had even agreed to any of this in the first place. But it wasn't like he had mind control powers, right? It wasn't like this was some sadistic ploy to seek revenge against all the times I had been a complete and utter bitch to him.

No— it couldn't be. Don't be ridiculous.

... Right?

[portals-and-spirits]

(Felicity: so this is really just the starter and I’ll reply from the Arson Murder Jaywalking Trio blog after)

Colin (and Argyros if she’s here) exit the portal through a dark wooden door with a simple brass knob into an odd-looking room. It’s square with each wall being about 15 feet long, but the most noticeable thing is that brass lines inlaid into the floor, corners, and ceiling split the room into four triangle-based quarters, with the one they’re currently standing in having a simple wooden floor, clean white wall, abstract wall art, fuzzy pastel green welcome mat, and wire coatrack, making it reminiscent of a cozy modern home. The quarter to their left has a much more antique vibe to it, the floor being wood in a different shade, and more worn looking, the patterned wallpaper being a faded magenta that blurred into the varied yet never too bright colors of the many, many photos pinned onto the wall around the door. There are pictures of beautiful scenes, snow fields, sunsets, forests, but there are no notable beings in them, no hints to the inhabitants of this strange little corner of the multiverse or the individual who must’ve taken them. Carved into the door on this wall are the words “If you’re seeing this, it means I’m home, feel free to come in if you can.” in a rough, simplistic writing, with a rolled-up scroll and pen pinned on top- if the scroll was unrolled, it would cover the writing. A creative way for visitors to leave messages to whoever lived here. The quarter directly across had a stone brick construction, with an archway full of blue light acting as the portal and a hanging tapestry of a clear sky and bright sun for a door. On the walls to its sides were beadwork hangings, depicting a starry night sky with a crescent moon and snowy owl flying about, and what appeared to be a mammoth made of ice playing about in the snow. Upon closer inspection, the snowy owl seemed to be made of snow as well. Next to the door is a tall flowerpot overflowing with crawling pink-flowered vines that have spread onto the floor and walls, and a small dresser with a pair of snow boots on top. The boots don’t look quite big enough for an adult, instead made for maybe an older child in their early teens. The wooden rafters holding up the upper walls and ceiling were decorated with preserved flowers of every kind, giving the room a pleasant herbal aroma. The final quarter, the one to their right, had a traditional Japanese theme, with woven floor mats and paper wall panels painted with cranes in a marsh and a few scattered lines of calligraphy. In a cylindrical frame in the corner are rolls of painted paper that could likely be used to swap out the designs on the walls. In the other corner is a discreetly hidden set of light switches disguised as a candle holder- the candle it held was only a fraction of the height of the stand and the lower portion could open to reveal the controls. The portal door is a sliding door that could’ve easily been mistaken for a wall panel if it weren’t ever-so-slightly open, a crack of white mist pouring through. In the middle of the room, over the intersecting divider lines, is a small table resembling a tall stool, being 3 feet tall with a circular top a bit more than 1 foot in diameter. On it is a singular file folder, the papers inside peeking out. Do they go through any of the doors? Do they check the file folder? Do they mess with the light switches or any of the other stuff in here?

"How fascinating..." Colin tilts his head, looking around the room. This was definitely a new and unfamiliar place. He decides to check the file folder; it's best to know what he can about this place and who's here before he investigates them directly.

"Seems familiar!" Argyros grins, looking around. She thinks for a moment, before skipping over and knocking on the door with the carved message.

"Is it a good idea to immediately start bothering people?" Colin asks lightheartedly, an eyebrow raised as he glances at Argyros.

"It'll be fiiine!" Argyros looks at Colin over her shoulder, eyes closing for a few moments as she grins.

[walkingstackofbooks]

I know this is cursed but. Please rank DS9 characters in order of how Dominant or submissive they’d be during kink scenes? I feel like we could write whole essays analysing what those guys do in bed tbh.

Oh my god, cackling, is this really what you all think of me? :P (Yeah, no, that's fair 🤣)

This was actually so interesting to think about! I was finding it very hard difficult to decide on an order on initial vibes alone, so I wrote up my headcanons for them all first - and a few of them are surprising even to me! Also there are so many switches/not really into it so the middle is really very fuzzy.

1 - Ezri Yeah, definitely a surprise to find her at the top of my list, but I so really think she'd get a kick out of the dom scene (and mostly dislike subbing). She's just got that quiet powerful energy that makes you want to be in her thrall, and being joined and having Jadzia's memories alongisde her own just makes her more confident that she's good at what she does. She wouldn't dom for brats though. (Also partly why she's so nervous at asking Julian out, she doesn't feel she's got a good read on his dom/sub energy...)

2 - Sisko If he was into it, I can only see him as a dom. He made captain because he's good at commanding, and he likes it, and I think that would carry through into the bedroom. But honestly, he probably wouldn't be interested in power play in the first place.

3 - Jadzia She's a great dom for sure, but I think she enjoys exploring new things way too much not to be a switch? Plus, Worf like to think he's a dom, and she's happy to humour him from time to time. More dom than not, though, and she's definitely a brat when she subs.

4 - Worf I've definitely said this before, but Worf thinks he's a dom. He's a Klingon warrior, etc etc etc, "obviously" if anyone's domming, it's him. I don't think he's that good at it, but Jadzia finds it endearing, so it's fine. And I think he likes it when Jadzia takes charge, but he never actually refers to that as "subbing" in his head... Idk, I just don't think he'd be able to relax enough to really let himself be submissive, even though I think he'd enjoy it if he were able to. (I also don't think he's particularly into power play, either, tbh)

5 - Garak Ohh, another difficult one... I think subbing would be really good for him, if he could let his guard down enough for it. And he'd have to be in the right mood to dom - at times, he'd really enjoy it, at others, it would hit too close to home and he'd be holding off a breakdown until whenever his partner left. I think he'd *want* to dom, though, even if he knows it'll trigger him, because he does enjoy breaking the other person down and hurting them. (Not that he'd think of it as "triggering" to himself, of course.)

6 - Odo I really cannot see him being into it. No rating. [Edit: I came back to re-evaluate after writing Kira but no. Even for her, it's really not something he wants to try.] [Edit: Fuck, he would dom for Quark though.]

7 - Miles Again, not sure he'd be into power play for itself, but he enjoys playing his role for a partner who's into it. Keiko, I think is a switch with a slight preference for domming, so he's been a sub more often than not. I think his favourite part of it is giving aftercare when he's been a dom :3 (something something good-cop-Miles-bad-cop-Keiko domming the hell out of a dazed Julian)

8 - Julian Disclaimer - I exclusively read sub!Julian, so I'm biased XD But trying to think about it objectively... I think he's a switch. Like Jadzia, he enjoys exploring new things too much to really stick to one or the other. I do think he'd have hangups over how much he enjoys domming though, what with his secret fear of going bad... And being a sub allows him to relax and not have to think and just relish in all the sensations and I think he'd love being slowly taken apart bit by bit...

9 - Kira Sure, she screams dom at first but I pegged her as a sub a few weeks back and now I've really talked myself into it. I think she could dom, but unlike Sisko, while she's very good at being in command, I don't think she intrinsically enjoys it, and letting someone else be in control would give her the chance to relax. It would take her a while to allow herself to explore it, but once she got there, she'd find a space where she can be soft and gentle and cherished - and hurt, and soothed.

10 - Quark Oh my god he's such a sub, right? Not that he'd ever tell anyone but he LOVES being told what to do and ordered around. In theory he's a brat, but it never lasts for long - he becomes a pliant submissive wreck too quickly. (Okay now I'm considering if Odo would break his definitely not rule for Quark and... Yeah, actually 😅 Why would their dynamic change just because they're having sex?)

[apolloagain]

Chapter 41. Sarahbros we are SO back

My girl DID IT. And I feel vindicated. I'd fully internalised the hopelessness of the situation, but also fully found myself in the place of Sarah- really, REALLY wanting for her to pull through, force the breaking point, and achieve that fantasy of making Rose feel guiltridden as all hell while the indomitable brattiness of Homo Sapience reigns triumphant. I was not expecting that fantasy to be fulfilled yet, but it was! And I'm ngl, good on it. The last few chapters have been ROUGH. I think I can say that we really did need that balance right now, even if it was always going to be wrestled together eventually.

Feeling like me and Ms Floss should get A*s in media literacy. In retrospect, I was reacting exactly how she wants us to, and was given immense satisfaction thanks to it. Like Sarah, pushed to the emotional brink, and been brought out of it. Unlike Sarah, the ploy I was put through worked. One hell of a game of chicken. After the last reblog I saw a comment she posted that made me think that there was more of a chance for Sarah to pull through, though I was still pleasantly surprised. When/if Ms Floss reads this, all I've got to say is, keep playing the game! Don't lose faith in what you're writing, and definitely don't feel the need to drop in promises of what's to come if you don't want to. I can now say from experience that reading this the hard way is very rewarding! I wanted what I wanted badly, and where it matters, I got it- more than I thought I would!

Anyway, yeah, let me bask. Get FUCKED Rose, let that guilt EAT you babe. Finding taming your sophont harder than you thought? Can't have your Sarah and eat her too? Understanding that her oh-so stubborn wants can't just be brute forced away when you lose patience? Maybe, just maybe, realising that there needs to be some genuine respect if you want your middle ground of loving her on your alien terms?

Yeahhhhhh, ferment a little in THAT, why don't you.

Part of me's a little sad that there probably won't be any more punishments, at least for a while if Rose isn't an absolute idiot (maybe something soft if she's soooo desperate to keep up the illusion that she hasn't really fucked up lmao). The author's been promising things get "better", I wondering how much "better" is defined by the wants of people who've been mad at Rose's discipline. Well, first off, last time that I was sad in expectation of my desires not being fulfilled, I was very much surprised. No reason to see that that can't also be the case on the other side of the scale. And secondly- well, you already know. Even if the plans for this are to make it a lot softer and comfy, I have faith that whatever it is, it'll be true to itself and great. Why would I doubt it? I hope the author doesn't!

One things for sure, the angst won't be going away for a whileeeee. I mean, damn. Sarahbros, we're back, but at what cost.

"Every Sophont is a Seed" is a really good HDG fic. Sarah rages like a force of nature, her resistance to the Affini is incredibly strong-willed and really feels like a proper fight (despite, you know, the inevitable). There's good reason for it too- to be THAT much of a fighter, you can't just be intelligent and stubborn, but genuinely, well, mentally unwell and destructive. The arc is going to be a long and richly deserved one.

Also it's hot, also it's regularly updated.

[sonknuxadow]

theres multiple reasons i dont like s/urgeamy but one of the things ive seen people do with it that annoys me a bit is the idea that surge and kit are going to become good because surge is gonna fall in love with amy and thats gonna be her only motivation to change.. and im sorry but am i the only one who thinks it would suck so bad for such fun antagonists to instantly switch sides just because one of them was "fixed" by romance and no other reason

[silverwhittlingknife]

Has Tim ever put Dick on a pedestal?

100% yes! This is basically Tim's backstory IMO. Prior to meeting Dick in Lonely Place of Dying, Tim's a kid who's got a distant, idealized, made-for-TV vision of Dick and Bruce - mostly Dick - and he sets out on a quest based entirely around that misperception.

Aaaand then he immediately crashes headfirst into reality, because the Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne he remembers from his childhood memories and daydreams are like this:

But it turns out that the actual real-life human people are a bit more, uh, cranky than Tim's glossy vision - things are tense and neither of them are super-happy to meet Tim:

And Tim has to rethink a bunch of his mistaken deductions as it slowly dawns on him that - far from being a plucky team - Dick and Bruce are actually not getting along at all:

And so Tim has to realize his whole plan of "Dick has to be Robin again!!! That will fix everything!!! :)))))" was actually wrong, and based on a misunderstanding of Bruce and Dick's relationship. And having realized he was wrong, he immediately sets about trying to figure out what he’s failed to understand in the most intrusive way possible—by asking lots of nosy questions!

Actually-meeting-Dick is basically the end of Tim’s super-idealized vision of Dick. It's not a vision that can survive contact with an actual human being who's snapping at you. And kid!Tim is (I love him but) extremely pushy and annoying, and Dick's a prickly young adult who is not above getting annoyed, which means Dick snaps at him pretty regularly.

But Tim does continue to admire him.

So for their various interactions after Lonely Place of Dying, IMO "does Tim have Dick on a pedestal" is kind of a judgment call based on your assessment of Dick's relative strengths/virtues. What's unambiguous: Tim has a consistently higher opinion of Dick than Dick does of Dick, and they argue about it a lot.

I had way too many thoughts about this, so below the cut:

Comics where Dick and Tim have conversations along the lines of Dick: "I suck and I'm failing at everything." Tim: "That's not true!! Actually you're great and you're succeeding at the thing you think you're failing at!!"

So who's right - Dick or Tim?

Dick and Tim's high opinions/expectations of each other: the plusses and minuses

Comic examples

Here are a couple different variations on Tim thinking that Dick is great (often when Dick's less sure):

in Showcase, Tim thinks that Dick’s a way better teammate than Azrael, even as Dick’s thinking himself as a failure who let the Titans down; 

in Prodigal, Dick tells Tim a story about confronting Two-Face which to Dick symbolizes a moment of great failure and which Tim insists was a no-win situation where Dick did the best he could;

also in Prodigal, Dick’s despairing over how badly he thinks their encounter with Killer Croc went and meanwhile Tim thinks it went fine (after all, Dick listened to him and called an ambulance instead of beating up Croc!), and Tim tells Dick to lighten up and Dick talks about how he’s a failure; 

in Nightwing 6, Dick thinks he’s doing badly in Blüdhaven and he’s self-conscious about it and paranoid about what Tim might tell Bruce, and Tim insists that the fact that Dick’s being targeted means he’s succeeding and getting close instead of failing, and Dick retorts that this won’t be comforting if he winds up dead because getting close just isn’t good enough; 

also in Nightwing 6, Tim thinks Dick was a better Robin than Tim is, and Dick thinks he wasn’t that great and that Tim’s better;

post-Last Laugh, Tim’s insistent that Dick's being too hard on himself about attacking the Joker whereas Dick's really haunted by the experience and confides that it feels like he's discovered a terrible dark side of himself;

way later in Nightwing 110, Tim’s seeking Dick out and Dick’s trying to avoid him because he thinks he’s a bad person who’d be bad for Tim;

in BW: Murderer, Tim doesn’t trust Bruce absolutely, but in Red Robin, he does trust Dick absolutely (or at least, more than Tim trusts himself);

etc. etc. etc.

Who's right: Dick or Tim?

So, is Tim being too easy on Dick and looking at him with rose-colored glasses, and Dick’s harsher view of himself is the correct one; or is Dick a perfectionist who’s being too hard on himself, and Tim’s the one who’s actually seeing Dick’s strengths more clearly?  

I don’t think the comics really commit one way or another! These are moments of multiple-perspectives, where we notice that Tim has one attitude and Dick has another attitude and that tells us things about the characters, not moments that are meant to resolve to a simplistic “one person is Right and one person is Wrong.”  I think often you could argue that they're both right? So, like, if you wanted to take the approach of, "Tim's idolizing him but he's not actually as great as Tim thinks," I don't think the comics precisely contradict that interpretation.

... THAT SAID, look, I am a Dick Grayson fan at heart, and I tend to lean toward “Dick’s being too hard on himself.” 

Tim’s not oblivious to Dick’s flaws—he immediately figures out, for example, that Dick’s gonna attack the Joker, and rushes off to stop him; he just isn’t as judgmental about this moment as Dick is, and he doesn’t think it makes Dick an awful person forever.  The point is (Tim says later, practical-minded) that it was made right, and Dick shouldn’t beat himself up about it.  In Prodigal, Tim’s not unaware that their fight with Croc went badly; he’s just focused on how Dick’s morals and teamwork-centric attitude feel right to him in a way that Azrael’s didn’t, and look, Tim didn’t get shot even though he got shot at, and isn’t that the important thing?  Tim gets caught in the same ambush that Dick does in Nightwing 6; he just takes the glass-half-full attitude toward it while Dick takes the glass-half-empty attitude.  And so on.

Tim admires Dick, looks up to him, trusts him, interprets his flaws generously, and doesn’t think he’s a failure. And... this isn't quite in the comics, but it doesn't contradict them: I like to imagine Dick feeling like he's on a pedestal, and feeling kinda uncomfortable with Tim's admiration when he's forced to realize it exists, and feeling like he doesn't deserve it, and sometimes subconsciously braced for the other shoe to drop, convinced that Tim can't possibly really think this forever, that he's deluded somehow, and that eventually Tim will realize who Dick really is and get disillusioned and leave.

And I tend to think of Dick having this problem a bit with everyone in his life who thinks highly of him, but especially with Tim, because he doesn't feel like Tim's ever needed him or that he's done anything worth Tim's admiration. I feel like Dick - despite some insecurities - does know his own worth as a team leader, and he knows he was a good partner to Bruce, and he understands when he's helping people who are clearly floundering, like Damian and Rose. But all he's ever done for Tim is...hang out, and be nice. And he doesn't think Tim ever needed fixing or saving, and he vastly underestimates both the value of his own friendship in general and how much it's meant to Tim in particular. Not all the time, because later in their relationship when they've known each other for years I do think Dick does feel a bit more secure in that friendship and entitled to make demands based on it (and vice versa, for Tim). But I do imagine Dick periodically feeling like Tim lets him off the hook too easily, and thinks more highly of him than he should, and alternating between being grateful for it and uncomfortable with it.

But I would argue that Dick does deserve Tim’s admiration! 

Look, Dick's not a perfect person - no one is. He does screw up sometimes, and sometimes he's petty or jealous, and sometimes his temper gets the better of him. But he is pretty great! He's brave and thoughtful and kind and generous and caring. He takes his own grief and his own suffering and devotes himself to helping other people. And Tim sees that. Tim watches an orphaned kid crying on stage, and has nightmares about it - and later recognizes the hero in him. Tim stops Dick from beating the Joker to death, and he holds Dick back from strangling Hugo Strange, and he talks Dick down from two separate panic attacks, and he listens to Dick monologue about his various perceived failures, and he gets yelled at a lot when Dick's annoyed with him, and his takeaway from all of that is that he believes in Dick, and trusts Dick, and thinks he's a hero.

You could see that as Tim having him on a pedestal and refusing to acknowledge the ugly reality. But I tend to see it as Tim understanding that Dick's flaws and occasional missteps don't define who he is - the fact that Dick's human doesn't make him any less of a hero. Tim can see the hero that Dick can't always see in himself.

Dick and Tim have really high opinions of each other... for better or worse

Tim's not alone in having a high opinion of Dick - Dick thinks Tim's pretty great, too! Dick repeatedly compares himself to Tim and finds himself wanting, whether he's thinking that Tim's a better partner for Bruce, or having a fear toxin nightmare where Tim's a rival who's beating him out of a job, or deciding that Tim would never have let Blockbuster die (and that he'll be better off if Dick avoids him), or musing that Tim would be a better Batman. Dick calls Tim his equal and closest ally in Red Robin; Tim thinks Dick is "the best" in his origin story and basically never changes his mind.

I think nowadays we're sometimes pretty highly-attuned to the way that high expectations can be bad or oppressive, and... I have mixed feelings about this? On the one hand, it isn't untrue! Dick and Tim's mutual high opinions of each other, and correspondingly high expectations, are not an unmixed blessing! They 100% cause problems! Dick and Tim think highly of each other, and expect a lot from each other, and sometimes they're pushy or abrupt or demanding when they could stand to be more sensitive. And the iffy side of high expectations is something I find interesting, and I do think it's solidly canon-based - you see aspects of this in several of their comic conflicts - LPoD, Graduation Day, BftC, RR, etc.

But at the same time, it's complicated! I don't think you can fully untangle the higher expectations from "they rely on each other and have a lot of faith in each other." Love and trust are different things, and Dick and Tim care a whole lot about being trusted, not just about being loved.

I also think it's important that their belief in each other is often a gift rather than an inevitability: Dick and Tim choose to see each other in positive ways. Something they both do is after they have a conflict, they'll apply on a retrospective very positive gloss to whatever just happened. So e.g. Dick starts Resurrection mad at Tim, and ends it by declaring, "I let you make the choice... because I knew you'd make the right one." Tim spends most of Red Robin 1-12 mad at Dick, and ends it by declaring that he knew Dick would catch him because Dick's always there for him. And in both cases, we-the-readers are aware that they knew no such thing! But to me, that doesn't make these declarations meaningless - it makes them more meaningful. Their faith in each other is sometimes genuinely felt, and sometimes it's something they stubbornly brute-force into existence because they want to give that gift to each other.

And I mean... Tim did make the right choice. Dick was there when it really counted. Just because it isn't the whole truth doesn't mean it's not a truth.

Now, does this positivity also put some pressure on them? Absolutely! They're both people who are very upset by failure, so they tend to reassure each other by insisting that there was no failure, could never be failure, failure is impossible, even when they know perfectly well that's not true. They praise each other's skills as a love language, when what they mean is I love you no matter what. They talk about other people's needs but don't always acknowledge each other's. And it'd probably be healthier if they said instead, "Even if you'd made the wrong choice, it'd be okay, because it's okay to make the wrong choice sometimes," or "Even if you're not always there for me, that's okay, because no one can be there for someone else all the time."

And they do not say that, because Dick and Tim are relatively well-adjusted by Batfamily standards but that is a very low bar, and at the end of the day they're still deeply messed-up perfectionists who deal with their emotional problems by punching crime in the face.

But look, they're trying. And isn't that the important thing? <3

[melien]

[gammija]

i keep constructing elaborate political speeches in my mind. as if somehow if i could just talk to pvv-voters compellingly enough, explain to all of em why this is moronic on every level, they'd all suddenly find out that they're actually leftists at heart who just heard a few facts wrong

[dyingstarsinyoursky]

Excuse me, but Slash... SLASH!

Bruuuhhhh Stray Kids really come out with another bang, just a few days after a banger like Chk Chk Boom

Like the intro??!?

The instrumental in the intro is insane! Absolutely genius.

And then Felix comes in with that fucking awesome deep rap?!?!

I'm gagged

For real! The whole song is fucking amazing, but the intro has me by the throat.

I can imagine that intro playing in the Deadpool movie, just as a badass fighting scene is about to go down. Like the fight hasn't started yet, but that intro starts playing, and you're like "uuuhhh shit's about to go down"

3racha really did it again! 👌

[tragedykery]

ok I’ve been thinking about taituk’s attitude towards murder lately and I think might have come to a tentative conclusion. the main problem is that if I make taituk just “ok with murder” is that, by letting (part of) their crew stay there, I would imply that attitude extends to the entirety of the tribe. but taituk being against killing in any and all cases would not be realistic, considering their job (pirate captain), and their background (grew up half on a farm in the earth kingdom where killing animals for meat presumably wasn’t rare, half in the south pole, where the main source of food is animals—both of which would lead them or others to question what the difference is between killing animals and killing people. are people of higher worth than animals and do they therefore deserve to not be killed? does that mean that animals don’t deserve to live? etc)

so I think the most realistic opinion for them to have would be that killing needs to save more lives than it takes. hunting for food, killing somebody to prevent them from hurting/killing others is okay, but hunting for fun and murder out of anything other than necessity is not.

[diathadevil]

My post canon HC for Princess Tutu is that after Gold Crown is restored the main cast just ends up reforming themselves through a bunch of modern music. Fakir goes from listening to MCR to switching it over to The Killers. Maybe even Paramore (something him and Rue would eventually bond over).

Meanwhile Ahiru ends up learning about Carly Rae Jepsen’s discography.

[babygirlcowboy]

My neighbor totoro you will always be famous