#honestly i am tempted to make this my icon

[teaspoon-full-of-sugar]

tangointhenight

pairing: harry styles x reader (au)

warnings: idiots in love trope, long-distance fwb (sounds weird but it makes sense just give her a read luv), switch!harry and switch!reader, detailed descriptions of female and male masterbation, maladaptive daydreaming during a fanfic, mentions of exhibitionism, edging, one singular ‘daddy’, cum swapping, breeding kink, praise kink and degradation, rope play, spitting, choking, mutual masterbation, overstimulation, use of toys (vibrator mostly), crying after sex (iconic)

word count: 13.3k

synopsis: harry records erotic audios, and y/n is an avid listener

author’s note: hello nasties, here’s another filth fic for ya! this has been a long time in the making, and i am so sorry i have been mia for so long, but i am back for the time being to give you this fic. i have wanted to do something like this for a while now, but it’s been a struggle (lots of blood, sweat, and tears put into this). i’m kinda proud of her to be honest, and i hope you enjoy :)

tags: @victoria-styles

masterlist

—

Y/N finally sinks into her mattress after yet another tiring day. She can hear her roommate on the other side of the wall, chatting with her girlfriend over the phone, blissfully ignorant to the fact that she currently has a hand teasing the band of her sweatpants while the other scrolls aimlessly through her phone.

Exhaustion burns behind her eyes, but there’s a desperate ache in her belly, one that demands satiety. She opens the internet app to find it unchanged from the night before, still lighting up in the profile named tangointhenight. His profile picture is a tantalizing photo of his hand, splayed across his thigh, which are clad in tight, floral printed pants, doing wonders for the very prominent bulge. Pieces of paint linger on his thumbnail, a pretty pale mint color, and his skin, tanned with faint freckles and etches of dark ink, looks tempting in the golden light. At his wrist is a braided twine bracelet with cheap beads that have letters that she can’t make out, which looks old and wilted.

She scrolls down, only lingering for a moment to appreciate the photo one final time.

There are some cute little posts and polls in addition to his erotic audios. The newest one, posted just that afternoon, warns not to listen to this in public with a series of cute little emoticons following. If there’s one thing she’s learned about Tango, that’s what she and other listeners call him, is that he’s a bit of an exhibitionist; his audios tend to lean toward nearly getting caught or even being caught (oftentimes leading to a “helping out” situation). She honestly wasn’t into that sort of thing until he started talking about it, and now, she finds it incredibly sexy, the thrill of the quick high and the fear of being caught in such a vulnerable moment.

She’ll definitely have to give the new audio a listen on one of her morning commute trips to the university; perhaps, she could give it a listen while she waits for her class to start, his deep voice teasing and coaxing her into an aching mess. She hopes that it’ll leave her trembling and throbbing for the rest of the day. She wonders if she’ll be able to make it until night before she has to finish herself off or if she’ll have to sneak off to the restrooms during one of her seven minute breaks, foot propped up on the toilet paper dispenser while she rubs herself to her bitter end.

She scrolls down a bit, passing over audios that vary from pillow talk to a dirty fuck in back alleys, before tapping on the familiar link, purple from use, the description teasingly saying: we’ve been visiting my mum for a week, and I haven’t been able to taste you... I guess we’ll just have to be quiet.

It’s one of the first audios she listened to when she was just discovering this new world of pleasure, so it has a special place in her heart. It’s one of his firsts from nearly a year ago, of fuzzy listening quality and nervous voice, but she finds his ramblings endearing; although, admittedly, she thinks anything he does is cute.

She tucks in her earbuds and presses the play button. Tossing the phone to the side, her eyes flutter closed, visions of white dotting through the darkness as they adjust. There’s a subtle cracking sound that indicates that it has finally loaded, and a fuzzy droning sound filters through the headphones. There’s a fan going in the background; it squeaks and grumbles nearby. A door creaks open, one of those fake sound effects that you can buy, but she appreciates the effort.

“Hey, lovie, feelin’ better?”

His familiar voice floats through her ears. She settles even more into her sheets. His voice is a nice, hot cup of tea at the end of a hard day, a drug that leaves her head foggy and senses dulled. His voice reminds her of sleep: deep, soothing, persistent, yet ever fleeting. She yearns for it, like being able to listen to that one mazing song for the first time again or the feeling of sunshine after the long winter months. His voice is intoxicating, reaching a baritone timbre that she can’t quite put to words.

At first, she wanted to put a face to the man who hummed sweet nothings in her ears, who coaxed her to oblivion for nights on end. Now, she’s at ease with never knowing. It keeps things interesting, and she doesn’t think about it as much anymore.

“If only mum wasn’t home, maybe we could’ve snuck a quick one in the shower,” he says. She smirks, picturing him tucked into his childhood bed, a cozy twin that would be a struggle for the both of them to fit in, and he has his old quilt tucked up to his neck, leaving his bare feet exposed because of how little it is.

There’s a moment of silence, then a cute little laugh.

“I know. You wouldn’t want to sin in her godly home, but she loves you, probably more than me. I don't think she would think any differently of you.”

Another beat of silence, then his voice catches in his throat. Y/N smiles softly as he stutters pitifully, slowly, struggling to find his words.

“N-no, y’know tha's not how I meant it,” he says. “Like, she loves you more than she loves me. Not that I don’t love you as much as she does.” He moves, the rustling of his sheets crackling in her ears. She can hear his hand run over his stubble, nails scratching over short little hairs. She wonders if he usually grows out his facial hair or if he’s the type to keep clean shaven.

“She couldn’t possibly love you more than I do.” The bed creaks as he shifts again. “C’mon, babe, join me. ‘S all nice and warm.”

She herself burrows further into her blankets, knowing full well that she’s probably going to be kicking them off in a few minutes. She turns to her side, blinking her eyes open, trying to immerse herself into the fantasy.

“‘M glad you got time off of work to come here with me. I know you could've been spending time back home, but you came here with me instead.” His voice is closer than before, however whispered. Every accentuated vowel that passes through his lips is like a breath of fresh air, and she hums quietly at the sound.

“I really appreciate it. ‘M glad we got to spend this time together.”

She imagines that he tucks her into his neck, coddling her while his fingers trace over the curves of her face, from the furrow of her brow, down to the apple of her cheeks, before stopping at her lips, lingering only momentarily before his thumb would push just past them.

He chuckles suddenly.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Jus’ lovin’ on my girl.”

His short pecks turn into slow, passionate kisses, deep sighs of relief falling from his lips, and she swears she can almost feel his breath on her skin, nose pressed tight to the pulsepoint in her neck as he sponges his lips over her collarbone, teeth nibbling lightly. She tugs the tee up from where it’s settled at her hips to where the curves of her breasts begin, the material squeezing them tightly to her chest. The sensitive skin aches under the tight pressure. She teases her nipples through her thin bra, feeling the tenderness coax chills down her spine.

“Please,” he whines. “Wanna taste you. You can be quiet. I believe in you, love.”

She could picture him now, chin resting on her stomach, eyes pleading with her. She would flick his head at the patronizing tone before brushing her fingers through his hair. Would he have short tuffs or long tresses that she could run her fingers through after a long day, breaking apart the knots that accumulate throughout the day? Does he have pin straight, dark locks that are cut close to his scalp or sand coloured curls that fall gracefully on his forehead? Perhaps, he has a bit of gray peaking through his hairline to match his wise and weathered voice. She could almost moan at the thought. She has always had a thing for older men.

Tango says something, but she can’t really hear it, his words muffled by her racing heart. She pries her pants down shaky legs, leaving them dangling around her ankle, and her fingers work quickly in massaging her puffy clit, arousal wetting the tender skin. Not one for having much patience, she doesn’t wait for him to finish worshiping her body with his mouth before she is rubbing herself through her panties, feeling the cold wetness on her fingertips. Eyes closed, her head falls back on her pillows, legs tensing when she stops suddenly.

“Pretty thighs,” he mumbles to himself between kisses, and she could almost feel his tender touches on the backs of her thighs, which tremble with anticipation. A wetly placed kiss followed by an appreciative hum signals his final descent to her cunt. The sound of languid licks are nearly enough to make her finish, walls clenching miserably around nothing. Fingers slowing close to a dead stop, barely more than a faint fluttering on her sensitive skin, she attempts to collect herself, but it’s difficult when he moans once again, muffled by his furiously working lips.

“Love your pussy, baby.” She melts at his words, eyes rolling back as waves of pleasure rack through her body, hips stuttering in time with each flick of her wrist. “So warm and wet and jus’ perfect for me.” His voice, low with need, makes her throb, arousal slipping into her panties.

She’s close already, an unfortunate effect he has on her. Barely five minutes into her alone time, and she can feel the orgasm begin to build, like an unyielding inferno spreading through every nerve. The stress from her day, the exhaustion with the world, everything melts into just one prominent feeling threatening to burst from her pores. She has to force herself to stop before she falls over the edge in order to draw out this experience as much as possible. She nearly cries out when she pulls her hand away altogether, her poor, puffy clit throbbing painfully.

This continues for a while, the undulating waves of a blistering release and the torture of a cut off orgasm, until the air becomes thick, her heaving breaths heating her empty room.

“There’s my good girl,” he says. “Use me, lovie. Want you to choke me with your pretty thighs.”

His voice is more firm this time, and she could only picture his baleful eyes staring up at her, eager to please her and guide her over the edge. It makes her wonder what they look like; she wonders if they’re a soulful, deep chocolate that darken with lust, a pale blue that reminds her of warm afternoons, or a striking hazel that flickers with green hues in the light.

No matter the color, she is sure that they’re undoubtedly pretty.

“Please,” she whispers faintly.

“More? You want more, my greedy girl?” She nods pitifully, feeling the orgasm build quickly in her belly before she stops once again, fingers pressing into her throbbing clit. “You want my fingers?”

Her walls flutter fruitlessly for some sort of release, for some sort of stimulation. He moans out sharply.

“Feel so good, babylove,” he coos. “So warm and wet f’me.”

She wants to slip her fingers inside, to tease and massage that tender spot that she can barely reach until she struggles to breathe. She wants to feel full, but she doesn’t want to take care of the mess, and it surely won’t be comfortable sleeping in wet sheets. The wipes hidden alongside her other secret toys, beneath mounds of socks and crumpled underwear, do little to take care of the arousal that has pooled between her legs.

She fishes around her bedside table, fingers raking through bundles of panties to find her vibrator, a cheap little thing she got in a set when she first moved into her apartment. Unfortunately, she ran through the other ones that were in the set, and this is the only one left.

She nestles the vibrator on her swollen clit and ticks it on to the lowest setting. This stimulation is different than before; a vague rumbling rattles her bones, making her lips tremble, with choked cries teetering on her tongue. Obscene wet sounds fill her ears, and for a moment, she wonders whether they are coming from the audio or from her dripping pussy, and her thighs tighten around her wrist. She could only imagine the sight of his hands splayed over her hips and on her belly, perfectly pastel painted nails pressing into her wet skin. The shifting of her mattress worries her for only a moment, but her shame melts away, and she loses herself in the sound of his heavy, stifled groans, as if he is truly choking on her. The addition of the vibrator only serves to tease her more as she inches toward the end, brutally building in slow, abrupt waves. She struggles to swallow her whimpers.

He spits suddenly, and her hips jut forward at the sound, an erotic display of dominance, but he makes it seem like such a tender act; she could just melt.

“Can you take another?”

A beat of silence and a sharp intake of breath, squelching sounds growing louder.

“No? That’s alright, lovie, just two, then,” he coos. Her toes curl up a little at his words, hips rising from the mattress. On any other night, she would have craved more; she would have wanted him to coax her open with him telling her that she can take just one more and that she’s his good girl. It’s sad to be turned on by a man simply respecting her limits, but her clit throbs pitifully and some arousal slips out into her underwear.

“Gonna come for me, babe?” His words are slurred and wet. “Make me proud.”

Chills rushing down her spine, her body curls into itself, eager for her release. She wants to come so badly; she wants to feel the pleasure for days afterward, to tremble around her hand until she can’t take it anymore, to come until she’s seeing stars. She wants to make him proud, but she knows that she can’t come yet, or else she won’t be able to hear him finish. She doesn’t have another orgasm in her tonight, and she wants to prolong this experience as much as possible, even if that means holding out on her orgasm. The world spins behind her tightly screwed eyes as she slows her ministrations, the vibrator ticking back down to nothing. Her body reacts before she can even consider the loss, her hips bucking against the toy, attempting desperately to find that little bit of stimulation she needs to finally reach euphoria.

His lips smack loudly as he presses simulated kisses to skin, pulling her back from her foggy mind.

“So good f’me, pretty,” he says, words muted by skin. “So good. Hmm, I knew you could be quiet.” His kisses are slow and tired, unlike before when they were rushed and eager. His mattress grumbles as he moves once again, taking his time to, presumably, trail up the length of her trembling body until they’re suffocating in each other's embrace.

He sighs behind closed lips, heavy and wanton, and she can picture him working his hips into the mattress to find some sort of release. She would pull him up until he was right between her aching legs and press her lips to his neck, feeling his pulse jump at the contact. She would cup his cock through his thin pair of pajamas, teasingly massaging him until he just couldn't take it anymore, caution flying out of his mind as he is overcome by thoughts of her name, her skin, simply <i>her. Trying to form a coherent thought, he would barely be able to hold himself up. She moans quietly at the thought.

“Babylove, we can’t—” He moans, his deep voice splintering. “I don’ know if I’ll be able to control myself.”

She has listened to this audio enough to know what to say to fill the silent gaps to fulfill the ultimate fantasy.

“Please,” she whispers into the dead air, barely audible over her roommate's voice in the next room. “Wanna feel you.” She wishes he was there for her to whisper in his ear, her fingers running up the plain of his back, feeling the heated skin tense at her words. He would quirk an eyebrow.

“Yeah? Y’wanna feel my big cock in y’tummy, pretty baby?”

“Yes,” she whimpers quietly, suddenly very aware of how much she truly wanted to be filled, to have him so impossibly close to her.

“Y’know I can’t say no to you.” She can hear the smile in his voice. She wonders what it looks like, if he beams with an eye-searing grin, his face splitting with happiness, or if he has a shy little smirk, just barely toying on his lips. She likes to think that he has a beautiful smile, filled with warmth and love. She melts a little, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her limbs to the tips of her fingers.

“Get on top.”

She does, eyes still closed as she sits and kneels on her mattress, one hand still between her legs, trying desperately to catch her poor, swollen clit at just the right angle that will leave her thighs quaking, her stomach clenching. Her underwear, which are still stuck around her knees, stretch and snap as her thighs slip and spread further on the sheets.

He moans sharply, and she can feel her hips unconsciously move, as if to pull that sound from him once again. The low vibrations from her little handheld leave her aching for more, nothing more than a faint rumble, but if she flicked it up to the next highest setting, it would surely be heard through the thin walls. Besides, she loves the teasing nearly as much as she hates it, just pushing to the brink before the rush subsides and settles into a quiet lull. Speechless, she gasps for air as yet another jilted orgasm subsides.

She works her hips slowly, careful of the squeaking of her mattress; there are only so many noises that can be passed off as her simply shifting around in her sleep. Her wrist aches at such an awkward angle, but she continues, the burning euphoria just beyond the horizon. He moans, and she nearly follows him, a crest of a cry nearly bursting from her chest but it comes out as a small whimper. She pushes her earbud deeper into her ear, as if to pull him closer.

“Sorry, jus’ feel so good,” he says sheepishly, and she can tell that he’s biting his lip by the faint lisp in his words. It would be torture for the both of them, to be so close but unable to move any faster or harder to finally reach the deepest, most pleasurable part, just barely scratching the itch for intimacy. He whimpers pitifully, and she thinks she might fall apart at the sound, but her stupid vibrator leaves her teetering back and forth between over the edge. She wiggles her hips to try to get a better angle, but with just a hint of stimulation, it’s a torturously slow build up.

“There it is, pretty,” he says, breaths faltering. “That’s the spot. Make yourself feel good, lovie. Use me.” Her legs ache at the awkward angle, trembling with overexertion. She wishes that she could let go of it, leaving it on the mattress with her pussy and thighs holding it in place, so she can grind on it, unhindered by her own body’s exhaustion, eagerly chasing her high. It would also free her hands to tease her breasts again, pulling and pinching at her hardened nipples.

“Love the way you feel, babylove,” he whispers. “Fuck, so wet f’me.” He curses again and again, as if no other words can properly describe the feeling of her, so soft, so warm, so fucking good. She could only picture him in abridged visions, his undoubtedly pretty lips parted with his pretty whimpers sneaking through, his features pinched in pleasure. Her eyes roll back as her orgasm quickly approaches.

“‘M gonna come,” he says suddenly. “Are you close, too?” She whimpers, arousal slips down her swollen lips and into her furiously working fingers, eager to finish alongside him. “Yeah? Y’gonna come with me? Y’gonna come on my cock, pretty?”

She is so close, so unbelievably close, and she struggles to relax her muscles to hold off for just a little longer.

“So fuckin’ good, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he says sharply. His mattress squeaks now, unable to hold back the sharp jolts of his hips, and he lets go of all inhibitions, moaning freely. She could imagine his hand tracing up her belly, cupping her swinging breasts, and he would suckle on her nipples until her fervent hips faltered. He would brush his hands up the curve of her back, digging into the muscles of her shoulders until she fell forward. Faces nestled together, interlocking like pieces of a puzzle, they would breathe each other in, savoring such a close moment of intimacy. It would feel like a lifetime as they waited with bated breath, using each other to get the most pleasure possible.

She comes when he does, holding her breath to keep the moans from slipping, which makes it all the more euphoric, the chance of nearly getting caught at her most vulnerable and the faint lightheadedness making her vision foggy. Her orgasm leaves her legs trembling, slipping away from her still buzzing toy, falling forward into her sheets. She breathes in sharply, barely holding back a pained cry; fat tears of pleasure soak into her blanket as euphoria crashes and beats into her muscles. The heart-racing, earth-shattering, limb-thrashing orgasm makes her chest heave. Just like she wanted, she is left spent on her mattress, the powerful rush still lingering in her trembling body.

She flips onto her back, quickly pulling her bottoms back up onto her hips. In her drunken stupor, her earbuds fell out, and she can vaguely hear Tango’s praises. She picks her phone back up, eyes straining under the bright light, and closes out of the audio.

Her head is light, foggy with the residual high. A dazed smile flickers over her lips, exhaustion settling deep in her bones, finally satiated by her orgasm.

She scrolls through his account once again, this time reading through some of his other posts, like links to playlists and cute stories. Suddenly, the little message icon in the corner looks so appealing, teasing and taunting. Perhaps, she’s feeling a little giddy from her high or maybe it’s from the exhaustion, but she can’t seem to find a reason to not do it.

She sends him a message.

Meanwhile, Harry stares at the blinking cursor petulantly. It taunts him amidst a sea of white, a blank canvas in what should have been a completed midterm paper that’s due in a couple of days. His eyes sink closed, and he starts to drift off, only waking when his hand slips from his cheek, knocking his glasses askew. An old sitcom plays in the background, the canned laughter providing a break in the silence every five seconds. He sighs for the billionth time that evening, struggling to find motivation to even think at this point.

His phone dings, and he happily divulges the distraction, his brows furrowing as he reads a direct message from a user called honeyhi. He’s used to getting comments on his post, with the occasional direct message (which he usually deletes instantly because of poor past experiences), and now, he usually doesn’t think much of them. He isn’t doing it to gain anything from anyone. He just wants to put his thoughts out there, and it’s just an added bonus to get validation from beautiful people.

She doesn’t have a profile picture, not uncommon on that corner of the web, especially since his posts aren’t a lot of people’s taste. He wouldn’t usually indulge in them, deleting them usually instantly, but something compels him to open her message.

Not to be too forward, but I had the best orgasm of my life, listening to your audios. I’ve listened to your audios for a long time, and honestly, listening to you has become the highlight of my evenings ;)

Honey, you have no idea what that means to me.

Truly, his heart swells at her sweet words. It’s nice to get complimented on something you put so much effort into. He bares himself for strangers, expressing such an intimate part of himself for their shared pleasure, and it feels reassuring to get compliments.

I mean it. Also, Tango in the Night is arguably one of Fleetwood Mac’s best albums. Definitely top three.

Most people assume it’s a sex thing.

I wonder why.

He laughs a little at the dry comment.

So, what are the other two in your top three albums?

Pre or post Stevie Nicks?

Post, of course. What kind of question is that?

That was a test. You passed. I think we’ll get along just fine, Tango.

I think so, too, Honey.

—

Y/N rushes past the postman, nearly toppling over when her bag shifts slightly on her arm, her thick binders peek out of the top and dig into her arm. Her hand furiously slaps the elevator button, and she stands impatiently, her dangling keys shaking at her hip. The doors tremble as the weight teeters down to the main floor, far too slowly in her opinion. For a moment, she considers just running up the three flights of stairs to her floor, but that feels a little too eager.

She and Tango have their weekly phone call tonight, and her classes ran long today; that coupled with the stand-still traffic made her more anxious than usual to get home. She always calls first, since her schedule is the most complicated, and she’ll feel absolutely awful if she was late for their call. She feels silly getting worked up over such a small thing, but their friendship progressed beyond the occasional messages in the past month, and she honestly looks forward to their weekly talks. Tango is such a beautiful and humble person, and he is such a stable place of comfort. She knows that he will be understanding and have an independent, secondary perspective on any situation.

He is someone she can rely on for just about anything.

The bell dings above her, and the elevator doors finally part. After barreling inside, she sinks against the railing, glancing at the time, which is still just before her usual calling time. She sighs sharply when the doors begin to close, relief tugging on her shoulders.

However, a hand pushes through the lift’s doors before they can shut, and she bites back an irritated groan; she probably could have made it to her apartment by now if she had ran up the stairs. The man slides in and gives her a grateful nod, accompanied by a small smile. Much to her delight, he presses the ‘close door’ button quickly, and they’re met with no interruptions this time. It’s a quiet ride, despite her nervous feet tapping, and he taps away on his phone,

She admires him out of the corner of her eye, forgetting momentarily about her anxiety. Half of his hair is pulled back in a small bun, exposing the darker locks underneath, and a bandana pushes back the frizzy flyaways that would normally frame his face. The thick strands curl slightly at the ends; there’s one tight coil that she wants to tug on. She could easily become enamored with him, with his pretty green eyes and day-old stubble. His bag has H.E.S embroidered on the bottom corner. A coral colored, gem necklace rests beautifully on his tanned chest, which is mostly covered by a near see-through white top, covered with a baggy, gingham jumper.

After living in the building for two years, they have run into one another on several occasions but have never really spoken. He lives on the second floor, and he goes to the university as well.

When he leaves, after offering another nod and quick smile, she calls Tango. He answers after the second ring.

“Hey, sweets,” he grumbles, not as chipper as his usual self. Her heart sinks a little. He had his midterms last week, and she can only assume that the results are not what he had hoped.

“Oh, no,” she says. “What happened?”

“‘S nothin’,” he insists, but she can hear the irritation in his voice. “‘M jus’ getting myself worked up over nothin’. How was your day?”

Clearly not wanting to talk, he changes the subject, which is something Y/N has grown used to over the past few months. He doesn’t like to vent when he’s too upset because he’s afraid of lashing out and taking his aggression out on her. Thankfully, she has also learned how to distract him. Usually, his annoyance melts away within minutes, and he is his usual, bubbly self again.

“Well, let me tell you, I nearly killed the postman today, and someone nearly hit my car today.”

“What?” He asks incredulously. “Please, elaborate.”

And so, she does.

A couple hours later, Y/N’s in her kitchen, making avocado and tomato toast for the fifth time this week. Her roommate is gone for the weekend, thankfully, which means she can get more stuff done without interruptions (and she can talk to Tango for as long as she wants without getting interrogated about it). His mood had improved significantly after she was able to make him laugh at her own expense (he especially liked the story about how she grabbed her iced coffee too quickly this morning and spilled it all over the barista’s hand).

“I have a question,” he says quickly, as if he wouldn’t have the courage to ask if he held onto it for a moment longer.

“Okay,” she says slowly, almost fearful at the sudden change of tone in his voice.

“Would you be able to listen to something I recorded the other day?” He giggles nervously. “I dunno. I just feel a little,” he makes a little noise, “off about it.”

Stunned, she stares at her phone, the seconds ticking by before her very eyes, and despite the fact that the only reason why they know each other is because she listened to his audios, she’s a little taken aback by the question. Before she knows it, too much time has passed for her to brush off as anything but bewilderment. She stutters.

“I—uh—sure?”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“No, I am.” Stubborn and not willing to back down, she digs herself a deeper hole, despite the odd feeling growing in her stomach. “Yes, I will listen to it for you.”

“Okay, then,” he says breathlessly. “I’ll send it to you.”

Neither know what to say now. Conversation usually came easy to them, so it feels so strange to be stuck in such an uncomfortable silence. Now, she’s gone and ruined everything because of her hesitation. Why did she even hesitate? There’s no reason to be embarrassed. They’re both very open, sexual people, and it’s nothing to get so worked up over. Maybe, it’s the fact that it’s him, and she knows him so well now. Compared to before, when he was just some stranger on the internet, she knows his likes, dislikes; hell, she has even spoken to his cat, and it feels wrong because he is her friend, and that’s not what friends are supposed to do.

“It’s not weird. Is it?” He asks shyly.

“Of course not.” She says it a little too quickly. Admittedly, it feels a <i>little weird, now that she thinks about it. It would be like walking in on your friend having sex. Then again, the only reason why they really know each other is because she listened to his audios (which is basically him jerking off to his dirty thoughts). However, it’s not an aspect they spoke about too often, usually after a couple of drinks. Their friendship, despite how it began, is purely innocent. They were each other’s comfort person; they were there to vent, laugh, and talk with. Neither ever hinted toward anything different, other than the occasional, playful flirting.

“No, I’ll listen to it for you. What are friends for?”

She doesn’t know why her heart is beating so fast.

“Thank you,” he says.

“So,” she says, “do you want me to listen to it now?”

“Eager, are we?” He hums teasingly.

“Shut up,” she scoffs.

“I mean, if you wanted to hear some dirty talk, all you had to do was ask.”

“Please, stop talking.”

“Y’know I’m always down to clown.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

True to her words, she doesn’t wait for him to answer before she ends the call.

Her phone dings a second later with the link along with another cheeky message. The link is to a private web upload platform, and she feels special for a moment. She wonders if she should just listen to it while eating her toast and go about her usual routine, or if she should do what she usually does when listening to his audios. Is that what he would want, though? Would it make him feel uncomfortable? Is it more weird to just listen to him moan in her ear while doing mundane tasks around the house?

Granted, they have had some conversations about sex and the like, but this feels so much more intimate, especially because he knows that she’s going to listen to him jerk off, not to even mention the obscene things that come from his mouth.

What does it mean for their friendship? Perhaps, it’s not even meant to mean anything, just a sincere favor asked between two friends. Maybe, it’s meant to be a step toward something more on his part. Is that even what she wants?

She brushes off that thought quickly, as she has for months, because deep down, she knows it would just end up in disappointment.

Oh, what a mess.

She’s headed on a downward spiral that has no chance of stopping unless it’s hit by a freight train to hell.

She opts to forgetting her toast and slips into her bedroom, falling onto her blankets giddily. She presses play on the audio, her heart racing as it loads, and leaves her phone face down next to her ear, eyes closing to fully immerse herself, trying to ignore her anxiety.

“Hello,” he says slowly, almost shyly, and it feels like one of their late nights again, with him talking through her phone and her cuddled in bed, listening eagerly. “I’ve just gotten home, but I’ve been thinkin’ about this all day. Couldn’t go to sleep before gettin’ it out there, y’know.” He giggles, a pretty little noise she’s heard many times now. He laughs a lot, sometimes at himself, but mostly in response to her. He even laughs at her corny, little puns, which she appreciated.

“And ‘m really hard right now, so that doesn’t help either. I haven’t really been able to come in the past two weeks. Been too busy with… life, I guess. But a friend of mine talked to me about the world of BDSM. She’s a kinky little shit.”

Y/N’s heart lurches, stomach twisting with an unrecognizable feeling, knowing that the certain friend he is talking about is her. She remembers the conversation well, even though she was a little tipsy and very high, mostly because it was also the first time they had actually spoken on the phone, and it began as it normally does, about mundane things that happened that week. Somehow, the conversation shifted to kinks, and she told him that she wouldn’t be opposed to more sinful acts in the bedroom, most of which her previous partners had not indulged.

“I’m pretty vanilla, I guess. I just love to love people. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve never really been into that sort of thing, but now, I can’t stop thinking about it, and I’ve been kinda into some dark, dom stuff lately,” he admits slowly. “Dark for me, at least, which, again, doesn’t say much.” There’s another laugh, radiant and delicate.

“I dunno why, but I’ve been fantasizing about taking you into our room. A little lackluster, I know, but I’m not into the dark, dingy places, like those sex dungeons they have in the movies, where there’s lots of leather, red lights, music, quite the ambience.” He stops suddenly, and she could imagine his lips pursing to cease his ramblings. She wishes he wouldn’t do that so much; she wishes that he wouldn’t doubt himself and his beautiful way with words. If only he could be as confident in himself as she is in him.

“I just want to lay you down on our bed with our fluffy blankets pushed off to the side. Then, if either of us need to take a moment or stop, we can.” Her heart swells a little at his words. Even though he’s trying to talk about, in his words, “dark, dom stuff”, he is still so sweet and considerate, and she can’t help but soften. He trails off.

Faintly, she can hear him yank his belt from the loops, and it’s, honestly, one of the hottest things she has ever heard; the teasing glimpse of what could come far more erotic than anything any of her other partners could do. She could only imagine what it would feel like to have him in front of her, shirtless with his pants low on his hips; maybe he would be wearing the same floral pants he is in his profile picture, the ones that are unbelievably tight. She would be splayed on the bed, just observing this beauty of a man, waiting patiently for him to come and ravish her.

She’s sure that his tattoos cover more than just his arms, but how many more is a question that haunts her. The thought of a big tattoo on his thigh that she can grind on while he moans about how much of a good girl she is has led to many obscene dreams. She imagines black images carved into his chest, perhaps a trail of floating rose petals from his collar bone to his peck or a hellish looking snake wrapped around his waist. More vividly, she envisions a bold tattoo just beneath his belly button, one that she would scratch at while he violently pounded into her, one that she would kiss and lick before she would take him in her mouth.

Oh, what she would do to be able to feel his skin on hers.

She dips her hand beneath the band of her shorts out of habit, toying with the silky material of her panties. She tries not to think too much about her feelings, fearing it would deepen the ache in her heart.

“Anyway, you’d be on the bed,” he says, his usual slow, stifling voice pulling her deeper into the fantasy, “naked, on your knees with your pretty pussy facing me. You’re all tied up, starting at your wrists and ankles, and there would be a pretty knot down your spine that I can grab while I fuck you from behind.”

Her cunt throbs at the sudden turn. She could only imagine: her face pressed into the pillows, choking on the sheets, her muscles tight, aching beneath the restraints, and her voice raw, sobbing from overstimulation. Exhausted and wanton, she would take anything that he would be willing to give her. He would shove her face into the mattress, mounting her, and he would tug on the rope until it felt like it would permanently embedded in her wet skin, telling her how much of a good little slut she is, taking him so well.

She doesn't know why she’s drawn to rope play; perhaps, it’s all a part of the subtle nuances of the sex, the intimacy of tying the complex binds around your partner and the intricacies of sensory manipulation with such overwhelming stimulation. It’s so much more than just being bound while fucking. There is such a deep reliance on the other person to understand your body, your limits, your needs. It’s about trust and vulnerability. She thinks of it in such a melodic and romantic way; it must have resonated with Tango.

“Or I’d tie your arms to your legs, keeping you spread open for me on your back, with knots around your belly, the lead falling between your tits.” Her eyes flutter closed. While rope play is something that she has always wanted to try but never felt comfortable enough with another person to act on it. He would be different though. She cups her pussy, languidly running her fingers through her wet folds, feeling the arousal slip down her skin before settling on her sheets.

She pinches her clit, and her legs immediately jerk around her arm. Feeling far too sensitive for that type of stimulation, she simply strokes through her lips, focusing her ministrations on the delicate inside, close to her sopping entrance, enjoying the slow build.

“Then, I could hold onto your neck while I fuck you, and I like being able to see your face, to see how good I’m making you feel, to see tears of pleasure run down your pretty face. You could suck on my fingers while I fuck you, deep and hard. D’ya wanna choke on my fingers, pretty?”

She wants absolutely nothing more. She would gladly suck on his fingers if it meant that she could see the look of awe in his eyes, lust darkening his features when she bites teasingly on his nail.

“But if you’re on your knees, I could watch you in the mirror and still see your face. From behind, I can see your pretty, tight pussy take my cock.” He whimpers. “I haven’t decided which I would rather have.”

She can’t decide, either.

Then again, they could always have both.

“Of course, I wouldn’t give you my cock that easily. No, you’re going to be crying for me, begging for me to fuck you, and I dunno if I would fuck you right away or make you beg for it. I think for the first bit, after you’re all tied up for me, I’ll tease you, just barely touching you, pulling on the lead, the ropes tightening around your aching body. I think your tits would look so pretty all tied up f’me, babylove.

“When you’ve finally had enough, crying for me to stuff you full of my cock, I’d let you come, but I’d only use my fingers, never giving you what you really want. Maybe I’ll put a little vibrator on your clit and leave you there, having you come again and again until it hurts. I’d have you keep your panties on, of course. Don’t want you making a mess of the sheets, and then, when I finally give you my cock, I’ll put them in your mouth to keep you quiet, and so you can taste yourself.”

His moans are in the forefront in his sensual song, mixed amongst a symphony of bed and friction sounds. She matches his pace, flicking her wrist in time with the sound of him working his wet cock. She massages the entirety of her pussy, messily rubbing her fingers from the tip of her poor, swollen clit to her throbbing opening.

“Fuck, babylove, you’d be so good f’me, taking my cock so deep in your pussy. Would you cry f’me, pretty? Cry for daddy to fuck you into the mattress.” A rumbling groan finally breaks free, and she is so close to falling apart, her high festering into her muscles, burning through her nerves; her skin feels hot to the touch. She struggles to breathe, but she doesn't yearn for air as much as she does her end. Tears in her eyes, she clutches onto her blanket, tugging it in her mouth to keep from crying too loudly. She sobs, feeling a familiar tightness in her body, just beyond her grasp. Her hand still moves over her pussy, arousal seeping through trembling fingers, but she can’t reach her peak with such light, varied stimulation, her hips buckling.

“My pretty rope bunny,” he mutters. He’s desperate, truly just rambling on and on about anything that comes to mind. “My pretty honey,” he whimpers, almost inaudibly, “honey, honey.”

For a second, she thinks of the times that word has passed through his lips in less sinful situations, a slow, lulling honey when he’s trying to get her attention, sweet and innocent. That’s his special name for her, and she wonders if, possibly, he thinks about her in the same way she does, if he wishes to be with her in such an intimate way, just as she does. She thinks, incredulously, that maybe she isn’t overanalyzing the situation.

His bed squeaks faintly in the background, just barely heard over his withering voice. She can only begin to imagine what he looks like in that moment, legs tense, feet digging into the mattress, his hips thrusting to fuck himself into his fist. The head of his cock would peek through the top of his fist as he coerced his release free. She wishes she could see what he looks like when he comes, when he finally reaches his most euphoric moment. It’s such a primal thing to witness, to see someone liberated of all inhibitions, to observe them completely succumbing to their instincts. It’s such a beautiful thing to see someone acquiesce control and thrive so harmoniously with their body.

“I wanna wrap my belt around your throat.” He swallows thickly. She whines along with him. Perhaps, she’s just fooling herself, but she can swear that she could almost hear the sound of a leather belt squeezing in his fist. A pitiful pool of wetness slips between her ass cheeks.

“My cock hurts just thinking about how you’d sound.” He moans, mimicking the desperate heaves that would undoubtedly slip through her lips as he pulls his belt tightly around her throat. “Then, when you’re bratty, I can just wrap my hand around the belt and make it tighter.

“Please,” he mocks weakly, “please, sir, I’ll be good. But you’re just saying that to get what you want. You’re just a naughty, little slut aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she returns weakly.

“Maybe, I could get you a collar and pull you around with that. Would you like that?” He hums. “Of course, you would. You’re my pretty, little bunny.”

In any other instance, she would feel humiliated to be so aroused at being so weak and submissive to another, but he could convince her to do anything at this point. She’s close, toes curling and muscles tightening, and she waits for his familiar profession that he is also near the edge, but the silence that follows is deafening, a disappointing resolution to an intense narrative. It makes her stop completely, wet hand flipping her phone over to see that, indeed, she had listened to all of the audio. It knocks the air from her lungs when she realizes that that was it. She isn’t going to hear his cute little whimpers as he comes nor his sweet aftercare.

Frustrated from her ruined orgasm, she calls him instantly, and he picks up after the fourth ring this time, as if he <i>knows</i> that she is this needy and frustrated. She doesn’t give him the chance to greet her.

“That couldn’t have been all of it.”

“Well, hello to you, too—”

“I didn’t get to hear you come.”

“Is that what you wanna hear, honey?”

“Well, yeah, I always come with—” She stops before she says something she’ll regret, but by the sound of his laughter, it’s already too late. She wants to hide away in embarrassment.

“It’s only partially finished. I thought I told you that.” She can hear the teasing smirk he surely has plastered on his face, the cheeky bastard. “I just wanted to hear what you thought so far before I finished it. There’s no point in finishing something that I already feel isn’t worth the time.”

“Well, then,” she stutters quickly, “How does it end?”

“How do you think it should end?”

There’s a certainty in his words, as if he has already accepted her as a lover, and she knows that he is giving her the opportunity to initiate the next step. Fear squeezes her chest, and for a second, she worries that she isn’t brave enough to follow through. Every fiber of her being is pleading with her to just take that risk, but another, more rational side of her, is saying it’s better to say a quick I don’t know, and they would move on as normal.

“Where would you come?”

Oh, it feels so filthy to ask that, but it’s so relieving to hear the hum of approval that passes through his lips.

Her heart races, not like before; this is exciting and new and arousing, and it feels wrong. She doesn’t even know what he looks like; hell, she doesn’t even know his real name, and she’s so fucking ready and willing to give herself to him. There’s just so many reasons to not pursue him. She feels ashamed, almost, that she is weak for a man she knows nothing about.

“Hmm, that’s a good question. Where would you like me to come?”

But how can she not get weak when he asks her things like that?

Shivers bloom on her skin in sunflower blossoms. She knows what he wants to hear, and usually, she would tease him, telling him that he didn’t care if he even came or not, but the throbbing between her legs is relentless, and she’s just lust-drunk that she’ll say just about anything to get what she needs. She begins rubbing herself again, focusing solely on her clit this time instead of the entirety of her pussy in the palm of her hand. Breathing out shakily, she answers honestly.

“Everywhere.”

He moans, and she knows that was the right answer.

“Everywhere? Such a greedy girl. You want me to come down your throat? You wanna taste it? Maybe, I’ll have you choke on my cock, fuck y’face until you’re crying.”

After he was done fucking her, she’s sure that he would yank her up either by the rope around her breasts or by the belt around her neck (she can’t decide which yet) and put his cock by her mouth, rubbing himself over her lips and chin, but never quite pushing past the barrier of her lips; no, she would be the one to open her sweet mouth for him, her jaw lax and tongue wet as she takes everything he’d give her.

God, yes, she wants to taste him. She wants him to use her in every possible, degrading way: to use her mouth while she tied up, under his mercy, to fuck her face until she has tears dripping down her cheeks, wetting her heaving chest, to come down her throat until she’s choking on him, but he would pinch her nose and make her taste it until her vision was blurry.

“You’d take it all, babylove. Won’t you?”

He asks so innocently, his deep voice having a soft twinge, but she knows that it’s not optional, not that she would choose otherwise. She would greedily lap at his cum and drink it all, proudly showing off her empty mouth when she’s done. Maybe, he would insist that she keep it in her mouth and pull her into a wet, heated kiss, prying her lips apart so he can taste himself on her tongue.

“I could make a mess on your belly or your tits, and then, I could lick you clean. Or I could mark up your thighs and watch it drip onto the sheets.”

The thought of him marking her with his come is nearly enough for her to reach her peak. A voice in the back of her head chastises her for being so greedy; this is something she has fantasized about since they started talking, and it’s going to be over before it can even begin at this rate. She needs to distract herself, to focus on anything other than the painful throbbing between her legs.

“Or I could come inside you.”

That’s the last thing she needed to hear.

Only because it makes a thick bead of arousal seep into her sheets. It makes her finally give in and sink two fingers inside herself, and <i>fuck, she’s so wet and swollen and pliable. She sobs, truly biting back even louder cries behind gritted teeth. She curses again and again at the feeling coursing through her veins, heat spreading in her belly as her hips frantically move against her ministrations.

“By the sound of that moan, I think that’s definitely preferred. Such a filthy girl. Y’want me to fill your belly? Want me to mark you as mine?”

She just knows that he could fill her to the brim, but he would want to prolong the experience as much as possible, teasing her with his cock and coaxing her to beg for his cum.

She could just imagine the determined look in his eyes, so close to coming, but he would pull out, just barely teasing her trembling entrance with his twitching cock. He wouldn’t move, and when she would beg for him to put it back in and just fuck her until she couldn’t breath, he would say very simply: if y’want my cum so bad, put my cock back inside.

God, his face would be gleaming with this power, satisfied with seeing her so needy for his cum. Shamefully, she would put one of her hands on his hip while the other grasps his cock, pushing on him until he sinks entirely inside her once again, but he still wouldn’t move, simply filling her, the both of them twitching with arousal. He would demand that she make him come if she wants it so bad, as if it's a gift from the heavens.

“Are you touching yourself?” He asks, and only then does she realize that she was drowning in her fantasy; the sudden change makes her stop rubbing herself, her vision hazy. She parts her lips with wet fingers, slipping back down to her entrance, gently prodding inside until that euphoria builds once again.

“Yes,” she admits shamefully. “‘M so fucking wet for you.”

“Dirty little slut,” he says sharply. He has no room to judge, especially since she can hear the all-too-familiar sounds to him jerking his cock, wet sounds of his fist passing over the thick head echoing in her empty room. She is near tears at this point, so needy and high and horny, but she wants to make this last.

“Would you let me come? Please, can I come?”

It’s his turn to moan with approval, and she feels proud. His heavy breathing in time with hers, he seems to be lost in pleasure, voice hitching as he struggles to find words. Her orgasm swells to a near crest once again, but she wants to hear him finish. At this point, she knows what it sounds like, from the frantic ramblings to the guttural moans, and he’s not quite there yet.

“Do you think you deserve to come, honey? You think you’ve been a good girl f’me?”

“Yes, I’m a good girl—fuck—please, please, I need to come.” She stumbles through her words, what little power she held in her withering grasp deflating instantly from his words.

“I dunno, I think you’re a brat who just wants to get off.”

It’s painful how much his words impact her, volatile muscles spasming while she staves of hee end. She whimpers, sinking further in her headspace; she feels a cloud settle in her vision (or perhaps those are tears), overwhelming yet freeing.

“No, I’m your good girl,” she insists.

“I think you’ll have to prove it to me, honey,” he replies slyly. “I don’t think I’ll let you come quickly. I want you to beg for it. Can you do that f’me, babylove? Beg me to come.”

“Fuck, I’m so close,” she says. “Please, please, I need it. Please, let me come.”

“You can do better than that,” he says, voice cracking. Their harmonious sounds of excitement drive both of them closer to their orgasms.

“Oh, god—please, I—fuck—I need it so bad. ‘M so close, please.” She can barely speak coherently. Chills wrack her sore body, waves of throbbing pleasure threatening to break her. She wanted—no, needed—him to finish.

“Come f’me, Honey,” he says. “You’re my good girl, so good f’me. C’mon, babylove, come with me.”

She does. With ears ringing and eyes closing, she comes until her pussy aches. It feels never ending, euphoria consuming every part of her sweat-laden flesh, chilling and fiery, for hours—or perhaps only seconds. She can’t tell.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her vision blurry. Her body trembles with residual aftershocks of her intense orgasm. She lays spread open on her bed, her pussy still too sensitive to close her legs entirely.

“Thank you for letting me come.” In her daze, her limbs fall away limply. All she can do is exist at this moment. She vaguely wonders if he finished with her, the thought of his deep moans fueling another fire. A part of her is disappointed that she wasn't present enough to listen to him, but another part knows that more opportunities will come.

“You’re so welcome, honey,” he says sweetly. “I think we both really needed that today.”

She hums, still recovering from such a powerful end. She slowly regains her breathing.

“I guess I should be thanking you because that’s one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had,” he says. She laughs.

“You flatter me.”

“I’m serious. Nearly gave myself a pearl necklace.”

And just like that, everything continues as normal. Both know that the other is naked and satiated, but neither feels uncomfortable with the fact. If anything, it makes things relieved, open, or comfortable. They’re both giggly in the golden after-glow.

“What does this mean for us, Honey?”

As, yes, the dreaded ‘talk’. Fear immediately spikes in her veins, and she struggles to find her words. Before she can answer, he begins speaking again.

“Look, I really like talking with you, and I don’t want this to make things weird, but I meant what I said earlier. That was probably one of the best orgasms of my life, and I don’t think that I could live without your pretty little moans now that I’ve heard them. Maybe, we can do that again. We don’t have to put a label on it or anything, if you don’t want to.”

Her heart sinks. Is that all that he wants?

“Right, it doesn’t have to be anything serious, just us having some stress relief.” Her words are dry and forced, feeling like bile in her mouth. She grits her teeth. What the hell had she just gotten herself into?

“Hey, uh, it’s late, and I have to wake up early tomorrow. Same time next week?”

She hopes that he doesn’t think that she regrets what they did, and she hopes he doesn’t think too much into her abrupt ending of the call. It’s not a total lie; she does have work early tomorrow morning, but she has had more than a few days where she was running on two hours of sleep and a miracle. She just wants to get off the phone before he hears the contemplation in her voice.

“You think I can wait a week after that? You have too much faith in me.”

“I think you’ll survive, babe,” she says.

“Good night, babylove.”

“Good night.”

She falls asleep quickly after, dreaming of the nameless, faceless man who she bares her soul to.

Later that night, as Harry edits the finally finished audio, he thinks back to Honey and their mutual pleasure, feeling like an absolute idiot for saying that it was nothing serious. He wasn’t expecting her to agree so emphatically, so quickly.

Although, what had he expected? He was the one who suggested it. No matter, he can’t have a relationship right now, especially a long distance one. He would just end up getting hurt, but he likes her too much to stop talking to her completely. He finally took their relationship further even if it won’t lead to anything more.

—

“Are you ready to admit defeat?”

Y/N lets out a breathy laugh, despite her current situation, her hand rubbing leisure circles on her already sensitive clit, which still throbs from her first orgasm of the night. Tango murmurs praise in her humming ears.

She’s not really sure what they are, and she doesn’t want to think about it. It would only complicate things more.

Friends? Definitely.

Well, maybe not definitely, since she doesn’t even know his name, but what other word could she use to define their relationship? What sort of friends would say such filthy things to each other? Why would he call her ‘my honey’ so emphatically if they were ‘just friends’? Too afraid of misinterpreting his intentions and embarrassing herself, she doesn’t mention anything, and he never does either, but it keeps her awake at night, wondering what they could be if she could just put her feelings to words.

This would be the second hour of their phone call, and it only took them ten minutes for the conversation to turn into one of their “stress relieving sessions”. Both of them had a terrible day; she was late for the first day at her new job (they were understanding given the circumstances, but it still left a sour taste in her mouth), and he slept through an exam. She eased him into a submissive headspace quickly, babbling about what a good boy he is and how proud she is of him. Within minutes, he came, and she whispered all the filthy things she wanted to do to him until he was completely spent, his cock milked of all remnants of his seed, twitching and throbbing with empty orgasms.

He easily fell into the dominant headspace after his quick high, and he was adamant that he could make her come more than any of her other partners, even without him truly there. She knows that he can; hell, she has touched herself to his voice more times than she could count, but she likes teasing him, hearing him get all riled up and stubborn.

“Are you gonna come again, honey?”

“Nope,” she breathes, “Not even a little close.”

“You’re obviously lying or not trying,” he says sharply, and a sense of pride swells in her chest at her ability to get a rise out of him without even trying. She smirks.

“What are you gonna do? Punish me?”

“I might have to.”

She’s sure he would, too, but it would be in the most pleasurable way possible, with his mouth and fingers and cock stimulating her until she comes so many times she can’t take anymore. Her fingers trace her most intimate area, nails scraping against her quivering core. She sinks two fingers inside, feeling her sopping pussy swallow them easily, adjusting quickly and craving more. She tries to find that sweet, spongy spot inside her, but she can’t seem to reach it.

“Wish it was your fingers,” she mumbles, her movements certain and even, but it’s never enough for her greedy body.

“Yeah, lovie?” He croons, “they’d be so big in your tight little pussy.” She hums, wishing that he was there to stuff her in every way possible.

“Would you wear your rings?”

“For you? Of course.” Her eyes roll back at the thought; his thick fingers could tear her at the seams, and with the added texture of his rings, she would be coming within seconds. Her clit throbs, blood rushing in time with her racing heart, and she massages it harder, wanton and waiting for yet another release. “C’mon, babylove, Come for me. Make me proud,” he coaxes. His words make her fall over that edge once more, thighs shaking and pussy weeping. She’s sure there’s a creamy stain beneath her, seeping into her wet skin.

“Again,” he demands. She thinks she may break. “Keep going, babylove. Where’s that toy you told me about?”

He knows that she won’t be able to come much longer on her own, with the pain overwhelming the pleasure.

“It’s so far away,” she whines.

“Go grab it, love,”

Her legs tremble as she twists around, reaching blindly into her bedside drawer. She can’t close her legs too much without getting overstimulated; her legs ache and twitch. Once the toy is situated just above her clit, she ticks it on. Her body reacts immediately, limbs jolting about, hips ducking away, and her voice catching. Gasping, she almost wants to take the toy away, the stimulation being far too much.

He thinks differently.

“Turn it up higher, lovie,” he says so sweetly. Her chest feels like it could almost collapse into itself. Still dizzy from her orgasm, she’s not sure if she can take it, her body fighting against her. She wants to beg and plead for something, but she doesn’t even know what for. Is it for yet another orgasm that will surely be more powerful that any other? Or is it for the burning at every nerve ending to stop?

“I dunno—”

“You can take it, such a good little bunny for me.”

The vibrator ticks to the next setting, a sharp, persistent sound echoes in her empty room, followed by an even louder shout. She has not control anymore. Thankfully, she’s home alone or else it would be an awkward morning with her roommate listening to her cries of pleasure well into the night. Her hand shakes, but she presses the head of the toy harder to her clit. She lets out a guttural groan, feeling euphoria seep from every pore.

“There it is,” he moans, breathing growing ragged. He’s surely jerking himself off, basking in the pleasure with her, and it makes her arousal burn deeper. She wants to put on a show for him, to egg him on and make him feel as good as he makes her feel.

“There’s my pretty girl. Let me hear you, baby.”

She can barely squeeze out a few breathless whimpers from her chest, hedonistic—no, animalistic—sobs crash through her. Pain and pleasure fight for control, just as her mind and body do.

“Feel good?”

“Yes,” she says weakly. “Feels so good.”

She comes quickly with a silent cry, her lips parted and face scrunched. Saliva slips from her open mouth, and she is unable to wipe it away, lewdly dripping down her chin to her neck before finding it’s place on her dirtied sjeets. The recovery period is quicker this time; it’s either that or her body is becoming numb to anything but pleasure. It feels like it’s never ending with the vibrator still nestled tightly to her puffy cilt. Her lips are surely swollen now too, tender from too many orgasms, yet still sopping with arousal.

“Don’t take it away,” he says, “You got another one in ya. You can do it, lovie.”

His voice is muffled beneath blankets where her phone lies, lost in her ravenous bouts of pleasure, limbs writhing and tossing. Her body aches when she twists to put it back up by her ear to hear him more clearly, muscles tight from her previous orgasms. Legs closing slightly, she whines when the toy presses harder against her clit, hips ducking away from the strong vibrations, eyes fluttering closed. Her phone falls out of her grasp once more, but the light illuminates the dark room, casting a warm glow.

“Please—”

She’s not really sure what she’s begging for; it just slips out, a weak plea. Perhaps, she just wants him to be there instead of on the other end of a phone call, in some faraway place she doesn’t even know. The room would feel so much warmer with him here, her back pressed to his chest, their sweat mingling. Maybe he would wear those pretty lace stockings he showed her a picture of once, the glittery fabric coarse against her skin as he teases his toes along her leg, keeping them spread. His freckled and inked arms wrapped tightly around her middle, paying special attention to her tummy, he would whisper sweet things in her ear and press on the area right below her belly button, telling her of how he wants to grind his pretty cock against her soft middle until she is sticky with his precum, how he can fuck himself that deep inside her. She would feel him for days after.

“I know it hurts, baby, but just one more, then you can go to bed.”

It sounds so nice, the thought of sinking into her pillows for a good night's rest, but an orgasm sounds even better, one leaving her spent and satiated and sleepy.

“Such a good girl f’me.”

As much as she wants to, the sensitivity becoming nearly unbearable, she can’t stop; she wants to make him proud, to prove to him that she’s his good girl who can take it. Even though he’s not truly there with her to hold her and make sure she comes, she still wants to do as he says. Her legs tremble, threatening to close.

She squeaks when the vibrator hits a particularly sensitive angle on her clit, and she bites into her pillow to keep from crying out. Her hips work desperately, to reach that high for the last time, just one more, like an addict itching for one more hit. It’s her fourth orgasm within ten minutes, and this might just be her breaking point.

“I dunno if I can.” Her words slur, and she can feel spit dripping down her puckered lips. She suddenly wishes he was there to wipe it away, thumb soft and subtle against her skin, lingering on her puffy lips.

“One more, babylove,” he insists. “Just one more. You’re doing so well.” She bites back a mangled cry, eyes squeezing shut, her thoughts lost in a dark chaos. His voice is the only anchor amidst a dizzying high, coaxing her through her stupor with sweet words.

“My pretty girl, my good fucking girl, taking it so well.” His gravelly voice pulls her from drowning, his words gritty from his clenched jaw. “You’re not hurting too much, are ya?”

His deep voice is soft, lilting with a tender care she needs. She could simply melt, blanketed in the warmth of his rich voice.

“A little,” she admits, a dull ache in her belly when she clenches too tightly. “But it feels so good.”

The vibrations pulse through her body, leaving her voice shaky, and she shifts slightly, hips digging into the mattress. It settles on the underside of her clit, and it’s so close to that one spot, until finally—there, there, there—right there. She groans, low and guttural, drawn out from the depths of her chest, animalistic almost. Her body burns and trembles for a second before yet another strong, unrelenting wave drowns her. Every muscle in her body tenses as the head of the vibrator finds the one tender spot on her clit, catching at just the right angle that leaves her eyes teary, world dizzy. She knows it’ll be painful if she doesn’t pull away, a harsh orgasm building, but she can’t stop, not with him listening to her, waiting for her final bitter end.

She’s doing so good for him, such a good bunny. She trembles in the wake of such a violent euphoria, weak moans slipping in time with her belated breathing. It passes through in waves, the pain, a bittersweet burning welling deep inside her, but a different ache persists, one that leaves her yearning for more, one that makes her dig her feet into the mattress and press herself harder on the toy. Her toes curl, and her back arches, free hand twisting the sheets.

He hums appreciatively.

“My bunny likes it when it hurts. Doesn’t she?”

“Yes,” she sobs, “I want it to hurt.” Hips shuttering away from the relentless vibrator, Y/N feels her final orgasm build, pain lingering around the edges as her muscles twitch.

“Such a dirty little slut.” Her back arches at his filthy words, arousal pooling beneath her. She could feel it wetting her thighs. “Just f’me, right, honey? Just my pretty slut.”

She comes quickly, eyes rolling back as it overwhelms all of her senses. She feels tense yet relaxed. A broken cry breaks from her swollen lips as she shatters, falling apart for the final time. Her muscles quiver, tiny shocks lingering in the aftermath of so many orgasms in such quick succession. Her limbs ache. Her heart races. Her pussy throbs. She knows that this will be all she can take, her body completely spent. She can’t find the energy to keep her eyes open, and they roll back.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” she says, still struggling to find her breath and collect her thoughts, but when she does, a smile breaks her face. She feels everything and nothing all at once, so perfectly numb. She finds herself laughing incredulously because that cocky little bastard was right: he made her come more times than anyone has before. She laughs until tears slip down her warm cheeks.

This is the part where the emotions start to become just as overwhelming as her release. So much sinks in all at once, and she realizes just how alone she is, and she wishes he was here to pull her back down to earth, to hold and to love. She feels deflated. The sexual release is such a rush, but it brings devastating lows. With tears in her eyes, she struggles not to cave into herself.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” she lies, a sob curling in her lungs, forcing its way out in a blubbering mess. Once the first one escapes, the rest follow easily. She can’t seem to stop, heaving cries wracking her already sore body as she clutches onto her pillow. She fists her phone to her ear in an attempt to be closer to him, but that makes the feeling grow worse, settling to a black hole in her stomach, sucking all euphoria from her. Tears soak into her skin and sink into her ear, muffling his comforting words.

“Let it out, babylove,” he says softly. “I know, I know. I know. Sometimes it can just get really overwhelming.” His words are gentle, just as he is, and maybe that’s what makes this even worse. He is everything she wants. He is just so perfect for her in every way, but he is ao far from her reach. Maybe it would be better if he wasn’t such a good person. Maybe that would make the yearning go away. She’s quiet, slowly breathing through stuttering sniffles.

“Hey,” he says softly, “Go pee and clean yourself up, babe. Know you don’t like feeling all wet down there. It makes your peach all sticky.”

She nods, knowing full well that he can’t see her, but doesn’t move. She honestly doesn’t think she can.

“Go on,” he murmurs when he doesn’t hear the familiar rustling of her sheets. “‘M right here, honey.”

A few more tears squeeze out of her eyes at his words. It makes her whole demeanor crumble once again; she’s upset because he’s not really there, he’s not there to hold her and kiss her and love her, and that’s not fair. She just wants to have him here to tell her that everything will be alright; she wants him to be there to laugh with, to just be with. He is such a good part of her life, but she just wishes that he could physically be there in the way she dreams.

She cleans up quickly, tossing her spent underwear into her dirty laundry. Just as she had suspected, the remnants of her orgasms stained her thighs.

What’s that ache in her chest?

“Good girl, feel better, lovie?”

She nods and whimpers, unable to calm her trembling lips.

“Good, ‘m right here, babylove. Y’did so good, so proud of you.”

She crawls back to bed moments later, shuddering breaths and swollen eyes being the only remnants of her breakdown. She sniffles and wipes her wet eyes with the back of her hand, which smells vaguely of her feminine wipes.

“Sorry, if it was too much,” he says.

“No, no need to apologize,” she says quickly to get rid of any lingering guilt he has. It felt amazing, to be tested just beyond her limits, to be pushed to a shattering breaking point, to trust him to know what she can take. “It was nice. I just sorta—” Her voice breaks. “I dunno. Everything just got a little overwhelming. I think I’m better now.”

“What do you need from me, honey?”

She nearly starts crying again at how sweet he is. She almost could imagine that only a few minutes ago he was calling her his dirty little slut and demanding her to come until she could handle it.

“Just talk to me,” she says.

“So, I saw a couple dogs today,” he begins awkwardly. “Well, I was attacked by two little frenchie’s when I was walking to class, and it completely made my day ten-times better. They were so cute with their chubby little legs.”

He rambles on about his week, and it feels nice and familiar.

She’s nearly asleep when he begins talking about his mother. Apparently, she was visiting him last week, which was nice for about a day; then, he began realizing why he moved away in the first place: she is so smothering.

“And my mum is always nagging me to go out and socialize. She was like,” he breathes in, adjusting his tone to a falsetto. “Harry, you’re never gonna be able to find anyone if you don’t…”

He continues as normal, chattering away in his low, sleepy voice. She doesn’t think he even realizes his slip up, words spluttering out of his mouth so quickly that even he probably couldn’t hear it. She smiles as sleep finally overwhelms her.

Harry.

His name is Harry.

—

[thenightshadowqueen]

The best character from each longform

(in my biased opinion)

This is (obviously) a long one, so if you do want to read it, more below.

(Also I left out the Patreon plays. I might do a separate post for them later; we’ll see.)

Jimmy (Tom, Toby’s Secret Pocket)

Look, Jimmy is the best. He’s adorable. He’s the representation we as the autistic community needed. He has happy flappy stimmy hands. He can’t walk through doors. We love him. (STOPINTHENAMEOFTHELAW!!!!!)

André Beetroot (AJ, Burglary and Bobsledding)

André Beetroot (André Beetroot) was iconic the first time around, but his return as the first recurring SFTH character obviously had to be memorialised.

The boy witch (Sam, Moist and Magical)

I was tempted by the witchfinder general, but the boy witch won out with “Henry Cavill with a wasting disease” and his thick accent. Also the cheeky little look he gives his grandma (Luke) when he flips her off wins him a lot of points.

Hugh’s mum (Tom, Marigolds Bluebells and Hugh)

She’s, like, a fair bit unhinged, but she has good intentions. She’s got amazing quotes, too; “why couldn’t you have just stayed in my womb forever” and “if you love something, lock it up” are both deeply concerning, but I love them.

The wife (Tom, Murders in Space)

This one is kind of an obvious choice. I mean, her quotes are glorious, and honestly “have you ever heard of feminism, James?” gets her top spot automatically.

Mario the sheep (Sam, the Lighthouse)

Was this even a question? I love Mario intending to be a one-scene character and then being forced to star in the whole play. I love the human bits. I love “🐑fuck you🐑”. I love the sheep (aka Sam) having a fucking breakdown at the end. 10/10 all around.

Titch (Luke, the Unrelenting Aubergine)

Listen, I was very tempted by Old Lady Margery (and by Derek), but in the end, canon queer guy with commitment issues and insane amounts of blindness around his own feelings won out. What can I say, I have a type in fictional characters.

Troll Son (Luke, Wine Under the Bridge)

Everything about this character is perfect. Screaming as hello? Colourful troll as a metaphor for being queer? Correcting a geography fact? It’s got it all. It’s perfect. I love Troll Son and his wine bar in Ipswich.

Juliet (AJ, Caesar and Juliet)

Is anyone surprised? She’s a murderous girlboss. “[My mother] said you have to be careful about men; they can be corrupted with power. But what she didn’t know is that so can woman.” They can, and I’m here for it. She’s bathing in blood and her skin is glowing. I love insane women.

Watson (Sam, the Mystery of the Midnight Circus)

Watson, driven mad with grief over his divorce and his one-sided love for Sherlock, becomes a murderous clown. Am I supposed to not love this? Is there even another choice in this play? And his breakdown at the end was gorgeous.

Priscilla (AJ, Pricilla’s Final Petal)

I was very tempted by both of her mums, and also a bit by the groundsman, but ultimately, Priscilla won out. She’s the title character. She’s confused, but she’s got the spirit, and she’s working through her trauma with a buttercup and a piano lesson. Good for her.

Marty (Sam, the Evil Make-a-Wish Kid)

I considered the seven-year-old detective, but in the end, Marty won. He’s evil. He’s a make-a-wish kid. What more can I say? He’s got an iconic smirk. He burns down all the petting zoos on the entire planet (and his mum). He dies at the end. He’s brilliant.

Derek (Tom, Susan’s Holiday)

There were a lot of great options in this one, but “I like looking at the back of another man’s head” was too good to pass up. Also, I adore the whole monologue he has while he’s waiting to be buzzed in.

The gasoline salesman (Luke, Beetroots and Murder)

Okay, I know he’s only in, like, a quarter of a scene. I know that. And I can’t tell you why I love him so much but I do. He’s just. I just love him. I can’t explain it. There are so many great characters in this play, but the way he says “could be, could be” has captivated me. If you understand the way my brain works, please contact me, because I don’t.

Peter Steven (Tom, the Milkman)

I love so many characters in this play. I love Gareth, and I love the Texan bartender, and I love David the milkman. But Peter Steven is the sweetest, most traumatised little boy and I want to protect him. I will adopt him and I will never make him walk on his knees again. I will throw away the PS5 and I will let him dig up the back garden as many times as he wants.

Johnny and Janae (Luke and Tom, the Neighbour’s Under the Bed)

I know they’re two separate characters, okay, but they’re a set. I want to keep them together. And I just can’t choose, okay? They’re two autistic children whose neurodivergence presents in opposite ways, and their parents don’t know what to do with them, and oh look, I’m back to wanting to adopt traumatised children.

Captain Egbert (Luke, the Leftenmost Window)

Shoutout to the mum, but Egbert won this one. He’s, like, kind of an idiot. I’m here for it, though. He’s got the iconic “diluileayilybilyeilysilym” speech. He wants to go to the ~astral plane~ but he’s waiting for his birthday. He lets his wife dip him into a kiss even though it’s 1940. I love him.

The king (Sam, the Prime Minister’s First Day)

Listen, I love several characters from this one, but I’m going with this one. He’s unapologetically a dick. He wears impenetrable armour made from diamonds stolen from Indian subculture. He’s impossible to beat. He’s brilliant. (Also did anyone else kind of find Sam hot as the king or is that just me?)

Franz Haberburg (Sam, the Excited Chinchilla)

Obviously fuck Nazis (god I hope that’s obvious). That being said, some of SFTH’s best characters are Nazis, and this is one of them. He’s glorious. I have never seen such a brilliant rendition of a Nazi chinchilla.

The Italian detective (Tom, the Ingredients)

He can’t pronounce paella. Do I need another reason?

Chip (Sam/AJ, the Cardboard Stegosaurus)

Oh look, another traumatised child! I want it. (No, but seriously, I love Chip and his English/French seizures.) Also he’s one of the few characters who switches actors mid-play, and I love that.

Persephone (Tom, Wild Wet and Worrisome)

She’s amazing. “HEY!” is a gorgeous siren call and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. She deserved a happy ending and I’m still sad we didn’t get one. I like to think she swam to the shore and found Geoff again, and they lived happily ever after on a boat at sea, singing and not having to kill anyone.

Full Set O’Hands and his love/bother (Luke and Tom, No! I Always Loved that Caravan)

I know, I know, another set of characters, but you really can’t separate these two. They’re insane. I adore them. They’re just… Honestly, these two are comedy gold. Good for them because they are fucking timeless.

Andrew (Luke, All Eyes on Nigel)

Listen, Andrew is a naive little thing, and he must be protected at all costs. He goes through so much shit in this one, and I just want to wrap him up in a blanket and send him to rehab.

Magnus O. Puss (Tom, BUS)

Okay, this was a VERY close one between them and Arthur B. D., but Magnus is a genderqueer icon and we love them for it. Also, I feel like this is some of the most unhinged Tom content we have and I live for that.

Jeremiah (Luke, Inside the Mysterious Cube)

I was so torn because I love Bubba, too, but I’m trying to avoid putting sets of characters where possible, and Jeremiah just edged past Bubba because his death scene was gorgeous. (That is a mildly concerning reason to have a favourite, I will admit.)

Lord Lafayette (Tom, the Midnight Mystery)

You may be noticing a pattern; I adore Tom’s insane characters. We just don’t get to see that often enough. I love his very sexual flirting with Lady Lafayette (Sam). I love him making fun of the detective’s (Luke’s) shirt. I love “what does any self-respecting rich man do when he has a little boy in tights” followed by “captured—and only captured” as a save. I love him.

Dangerfield (AJ/Tom/AJ again, Once Upon a Time I Killed Mum)

I love the confusion when Tom briefly takes over as Dangerfield; it’s not often we get to see AJ understanding something that Sam doesn’t (I say this with all the love in the world). Dangerfield is so fascinating to me. He’s a “cleaner” for a crime lord, but he has mixed feelings about the things he does. I want to know how he got into it in the first place. How did he come into this life? I want to know.

Barry’s wife (AJ, the Hare who Wore a Sweater)

I don’t remember her having a name, but I could be wrong about that. She’s so sweet; she just wants to knit sweaters for the hares in peace. And then Jimmy the hare gets shot, and she and her husband go on a revenge plot. I’m here for it. I love her.

The king/tank commander (AJ, the Oopsie Daisy Bulge)

He’s obsessed with tanks. He used to have gay sex with his fellow tank commanders, but only as a joke. He sailed all the way around, through the other landlocked counties, into the east of France, and they never saw it coming. He drove tanks into the ocean. He’s so stupid he’s almost smart. I love him.

The landowner/farmer (Luke, Too Big to Be a Jockey)

He farms peasants (Luke, you genius). He’s such a dick, with his classist remarks about Johnny Jones, but somehow I love him anyway. His interview process is looking at a photo of someone and then hiring them, and he’s honestly wonderful. I love him.

Larry (Tom, Long Johns—Strike!)

Literally the only thing he does on screen is die. That’s it. That’s his whole purpose. And he does it beautifully.

Wizard Asceroth (Sam, the Dark Moons of Slough)

ASCEROOOOTTTHHHH!!! (I don’t have another reason. I don’t need another reason.)

The French waiter (Luke, Lost in Your Eyes)

I don’t know. I really don’t. But something about this character has stuck with me since the first time I watched it. Gorgeous accent. He kisses Amanda (Sam) for no reason at all. He gets stabbed by a gun. I love him.

The Lady of a Thousand Don Juans (Luke, the Meringue Haberdashery)

She tricked her husband for years. She murdered her own child. She has been a curse on all the Don Juans in this town. She’s one of the only villains who win at the end of a longform, and that’s very impressive. I love her.

Xavier (Tom, Oh my God is This a Joke?)

(Please refer to my previous statement about Nazi characters.) Okay, look. He’s a horrible person. But we as a fandom choose to disregard that because Tom looks amazing in a leather jacket and scarf. I am not above this. I am, in fact, a part of this. Tom looks amazing in a leather jacket and scarf. “I will die as I have lived…. Shirtless!” has to be one of the most iconic lines of all time. There was never any competition.

[innerslumber]

I went to the Marvel: Universe of Super Heroes exhibit and wanted to share for anyone who has not seen it. I am under the impression that the installation changes from location to location so I wanted to show this snapshot in time. I fully admit to being biased in what I will post so if you want to see a particular character, please let me know! Apologies ahead of time for my crappy photo taking skills.

🔵⚪️🔵⚪️🔵

Steve Rogers (Captain America)

The whole tour started off with Steve featuring immediately. You can see Captain America all throughout the exhibit but in the room that was more focused on him, Steve was sharing the space with Sam and Bucky.

The picture above was from a small monitor showing different designs and CGI work. I particularly loved this concept sketch. The extra long eyelashes are on point. 👍

The iconic comic cover of Captain America punching Hitler was one of the first items shown in the exhibit.

I thought it was interesting that half of Steve’s plaque was about Bucky. 🤣🤣🤣

It was honestly a bit intimidating to stand beside the uniform. Chris isn't the tallest of the bunch but still plenty tall! It just felt really impactful. This was worn by him in Age of Ultron.

The urge to smash and grab this was very strong. 😝😝😝 I loved the "As wielded by Chris Evans". This particular shield was used in Endgame.

Steve's various interactions with American presidents. Bush Jr. criticizing Steve for resisting against the Superhuman Registration Act which led to "Civil War", makes me even more glad that I was always Team Cap.

But maybe more importantly:

OBAMA WAS THE ONE WHO PARDONED BUCKY IN THE COMICS?!?! HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS BEFORE???

The Tesseract. Without the CGI for the glowing blue, it was mostly just clear. But still very cool.

I admit I am not that knowledgeable about the comics and seeing this "Cap's Kooky Quartet" made me go on a Google info hunt. But basically the other Avengers are tired and abandon Steve to go on vacation and without his knowledge, hire the "New" Avengers line up of Clint, Wanda, and Pietro...who are at this point newbies and basically criminals. From what I gather, it was a lot of bickering and shenanigans (Clint calls Steve "Glamor Pants"!!). I found this incredibly helpful post to explain the dynamic and also please look at this adorable picture of Dad Steve and his Misfit Kids.

The exhibit ended with the gift shop and I had to ask myself, "Do I REALLY need a soup bowl shaped like Steve's head?". He was definitely the character the most heavily present in merchandise! I was tempted to buy this Marvel cookbook but I do think it was a missed chance for Steve. I mean, okay, I get it. The beef tongue as a nod to living through the Depression. But I would have made corned beef tongue in an acknowledgment to his Irish roots. Just my two cents. 😘😘😘

This is just a small sample of Steve in the exhibit and this post would have gotten way too long if I tried to fit it all! I had a lot of fun and I'm so glad I had a chance to see it!

[floofysmallbob]

just realized I forgot to post this

istg the one thing I have a schedule for that I actually adhere to and I mess it up

either way here’s the redesign, and for clarity, I didn’t give him a title because I feel like he’s… just Deku. that’s been the whole thing, regardless of whether it’s a negative or positive context, he’s just Deku. (yes my head did start singing I’m just Ken but shhh)

but here you go here’s Deku

it looked a lot better as a sketch on paper so shush

bodysuit is now a hoodie and pants

is he wearing a shirt that just says ‘hero costume’ on it under said hoodie? that’s up for you to decide

hood does have the little all might ear things, I kinda wanted his silhouette to be reminiscent of koichi(the crawler)’s, so I kept the all might ears

he does still have the mid-gauntlets, they’re just covered by the sleeves

knee and shoulder pads

no elbow pads bc of the mid-gauntlets

same shoes as canon

yes they look weird it’s because you can’t see the outline due to the dark color

idk why those leg brace things make his ankles look so fuckin skinny man

he’s probably got some sort of leg brace under his pants

didn’t like the respirator but added it anyway bc he’s going to be working with baku for sure and like hell am I letting this boy run around breathing skome from explosions

lmao ‘skome’

more freckles than just the diamonds on his face

kept the ulitily belt

tiny reference to his post-war design but it’s not super noticeable to avoid spoilers

HOT WEATHER VERSION:

lighter pants

short sleeves

no the white bits are not part of the sleeves that’s the cap off of the mid-gauntlets

yes it is a tshirt, yes it has a hood, yes I was very tempted to add dumb ironic text to the shirt, no I will not shut up that is a canonical running gag and I love it

COLD WEATHER VERSION:

darker hoodie

black gloves

thicker material

turtleneck

does it look weird that it’s a turtleneck hoodie? shut up

I considered giving him boots of some sort but the sneakers are honestly iconic

yay there’s my redesign, I honestly don’t really like it too much, but I’m posting it anyway.

as always, tips and advice are appreciated

[quantomeno]

My ranking of the 'And that person is you!' scenes from Professor Layton

Ah, the iconic 'finger point' scene. They are Layton's trademark and it's so much fun when you know it's about to happen. You can feel the tension build.

But these moments are not all equal. Which scene will reign supreme?

Because these scenes involve big revelations and plot twists, this list will be rife with spoilers for both trilogies and the movie.

7. Azran Legacy

Firstly, the audience already knows who it is and no one else in the room could be it even if we didn't know. The other issue is that it's just got no build-up: Layton gives his spiel and then does the point. The room is cramped and there's not much drama or flair. By far the greatest problem though is that this felt like a side story. Bloom himself felt like wasted potential in some respects, but this whole mystery didn't seem all that important in the grand scheme of things. I honestly don't remember it that well and I am pretty sure he only stole a few artefacts that weren't plot relevant. It feels like they just wanted a pointing scene and this was the only logical place to put it.

6. Lost Future/Unwound Future

It is far too short, but the reveal has much more heft than Azran Legacy's. It is somewhat obvious that it's Future Luke once you realise what's happening, because only Don Paulo could be the other option, but the Clive revelation is still a massive twist. I give this scene bonus points because I like Clive's reaction to the accusation too.

5. Eternal Diva

I like this one, but it also feels a bit tacked on. The 'who has the key?' thing feels like it doesn't need deduction because they could just check everyone's pockets (and she's literally just holding it), but what saves it is that it ties into the bigger mystery and the revelation of Janice/Melina's identity. It feels impactful by the end, even if the initial tension feels overblown.

4. Miracle Mask

This one feels a fraction lacking in drama, but it makes up for it with its position/significance in the story. The wind blowing at the pivotal moment adds some nice flair. I would say it's also quite a shocking twist. It is what I would consider the baseline 'finger point' scene because it contains all the key features that make a good one, but I just don't think it has the same sensation of suspense that it needs to rank higher. Its execution is not as great as some.

3. Curious Village

This one lacks the trademark phrase, and it is also obvious who's the 'criminal element', but it makes up for it with the atmosphere of the room: it gives a classic murder mystery vibe, where all the key players have been gathered to learn the truth. It is scenes like this that makes me wish CV was a more traditional murder mystery because it has all the hallmarks of it. I am tempted to put this one below MM, but I feel this one is a touch more elegant and I value that.

2. Spectre's Call/Last Specter

This is one of the few times the game manages to surprise you with the revelation and has actively worked to make it seem like it was someone else. The foreshadowing of Doland, out of focus, standing behind Clarke, and Luke staring at his father, fully believing his own dad has been terrorising the town... and then how the camera pans from Clarke to Doland. It is a cleverly laid out scene and it has a great feeling of drama.

Pandora's Box/Diabolical Box

I could watch this scene on repeat forever. It is gorgeous. It also gives classic murder mystery vibes which I love. The suave coolness of Layton stirring his tea and calmly telling Chelmey he's go thee wrong man: perfect. Everyone's shocked reactions are fun and add to the tension. The pause after Layton's reasoning, and the shots of those involved leaves us with a delectable moment of suspense. Every shot is framed perfectly. And the revelation: it is not really surprising given we see Flora get kidnapped and she just made the comment that gave Layton the proof he needed, but it is still such an outrageous idea that Flora killed Dr Schrader and stole the box. The shots of everyone during the aforementioned pause at least try to create the illusion that it could be someone else. It also resolves one of the earliest mysteries of the game. The cherry on the cake is Luke's reaction (I love him so much). It is moments like this that make me want to put PB as my favourite game, but alas... I love LF too much.

[brakingpoint]

i love it when you get sustantiatedly bitchy about things that don't really matter like ships, so i'd love you to talk about some of the ones you feel most strongly about, but tbh now i am also curious what you DO see

strongly tempted to put "i love it when you get substantiatedly bitchy about things that don't really matter" in my bio 👍🏻

anyway i feel like most of my examples are honestly not down to anything wrong with that particular ship but moreso overall trends in f1blr shipping (and i think i have set forward this exact thesis before so apologies for repeating myself but i love getting bitchy as much as you love to read it so i will yap about it again 😁) so it's probably more productive for me to just moan about those. perhaps with examples. just to swing the bat at the hornets' nest a little bit harder

in my opinion all of these trends are also interconnected - although they may at first seem contradictory - and feed into and amplify each other's respective flaws to create one big mess of mediocre shipping

trend one: trying to make fetch (yaoi) happen for every combo of teammates, rivals, drivers who came up through feeder series together regardless of if there is any chemistry or even anything remotely interesting about the dynamic

trend two: when there is no chemistry or canonically compelling feature to a certain combo, instead of doing the tried and true crackship method of getting a bit silly with it and going "hey would this be fucked up/funny/sexy/cute or what" everythingggg has to be about overwrought tinhat soulmateism, which is what makes trend one so exhausting. you can't be telling me you actually think every single teammate combo on the grid are actually star crossed lovers with abundant genuine and compelling yaoi fodder. it's not possible

trend three: everyone on here has the attention span and object permanence of a six month old cocomelon addict and so instead of respecting and sticking to the genuinely fantastic "vintage" (read: they were teammates/friends 2-5 years ago and don't interact as much publicly anymore) ships that exist for several drivers the overwhelming trend is for people to flock to the next big thing (read: whatever two drivers are standing next to each other for this season). it's kind of like migratory slash fandom but it's even weirder because it's happening all within one fandom, and half the time you're abandoning a genuinely good fun interesting ship for something that fits trends one & two and is therefore, to me, a bit shit

anyway examples of ships i just don't really Get for one or more of the above reasons include: a lot of contemporary lando ships (i'm not actually saying this because i'm a lando hater on track. when it comes to yaoi i do not discriminate and i think carlando is an all time banger f1 rpf staple. which is why i'm baffled by so many people acting like landoscar is anywhere near a worthy replacement); certain other teammate ships like britcedes, alex/logan (🕊️), zhou/bottas; even (please don't kill me) lestappen to an extent which i don't mind and have even written multiple fics for but i think people are taylor swift easter egging it a bit too hard at this point

on the other hand some of the ships i DO still like and Get include: strollonso (genuinely top ship to me at this point, peak contemporary teammate ship), piarles (idk if this has fallen victim to the Vintage Ship issue as much as i think or if i just perceive it that way bc half the pierre blogs on here have me blocked), some maxiel (lowkey prefer it when treated as a Vintage Ship as opposed to trying very hard to prove it's still alive and kicking today), carlando as already mentioned, whatever was going on between lando and max fewtrell and their possibly shared girlfriend a couple of years back, charlos (another strong contemporary teammate ship), sebmark, and of course my beautiful iconic eternal brocedes. OH and max/gp 😜

[unsettlingcreature]

RIGHT OK SO thoughts. i have them.

MINRATHOUS. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. MINRATHOUS!!!!

It's beautiful. I want to see more of Minrathous and Tevinter in general, I am SO excited for the environments and buildings and- (muffled screaming).

Also Minrathous? Do you know who else might be in Minrathous? 🥺🥺🥺 i'm sorry i just want to see dorian again. But also, I hope we'll see Maevaris too! So badly!

edit: actually, I realised what the started segment where you run through the city with demons Fucking Shit up reminds me of! The scene in Origins where you are running across the bridge to get to the beacon at the battle of Ostagar! Having to ignore the carnage around you as you push forwards because the end goal is ultimately more important...

I love that we get a background for our Rook that seems to actually come up outside of the rare dialogue option. And speaking of dialogue, I like that we're keeping the dialogue wheel with contextual icons! I'm not a massive fan of the UI but it's by no means bad.

As they walked through the streets of Minrathous, I was for some reason reminded of Assassin's Creed. But once combat began, I was reminded of Shadow of Mordor...? I think it was the switching between blade and bow.

I can already tell that the combat is not really my thing. I'll cope. I'll suffer through it. I will say that it looks very fluid and makes me hope that we'll get a similar flow of combat (for rogues at least) similar to DA2 (which I think has the best dual-wielding combat of the three games imo). I'll probably still pick a mage for my first playthrough but rogues are tempting me.

The warning lines for ranged attacks is... interesting! I've seen something similar in a few games and it'll definitely make dodging a lot easier to figure out timings, even if I personally hate dodge-heavy combat. Again, I'll cope.

The music... oh my god, it's beautiful. As they approached the ritual site, you could hear the same motifs that were present in the Tresspasser's soundtrack (specifically Dark Solas Theme) (I go feral whenever I hear those strings btw). Very excited by the music, even the song that was present for the countdown before it started was beautiful!

Some of the dialogue was a bit... quippy. It was way better than the character reveal though. For the most part, it felt fine but then now and then I'd pull a face at a cheesy line or the odd sentence that felt stilted to me.

I didn't realise Neve was an amputee! I love the stylised prosthetic. I definitely need to get around to reading the comics.

The new direction with demons is interesting. They seem to be going more wraith-like, with even the pride demon no longer have legs and just kind of floating. The fiery dog-like are what I assume are meant to be rage demons? I actually love them, far more than the weird blobby things we've seen in past games.

The facial expressions are very good. Definitely not having the same issue as ME:A. Honestly, the animation in general is brilliant. I enjoyed watching Rook dart about during combat and his movement was very fun.

Whenever the pride demon teleported away just as Rook went to strike, I kept thinking "nah that would piss me off so much".

Seeing Varric approach Solas, I was like haha wow, imagine if they killed off Varric really early on in the game. I don't think Bioware would but it did genuinely put me on edge for a moment. Destroying Bianca though... Nah, somehow that's worse. Where's he going to get another one? :(

Also, hi Venatori! You're still around after ten years? Fucking hell, you'd think they'd have given up considering Corypheus was dunked on over a decade ago. Learn to take the L.

Finally, that shout from Solas as the ritual was disrupted... I think it's the angriest I've heard him, at least put against how he was in Inquisition. Also are we going to talk about the purple eyes? I think I'd like to talk about the purple eyes. Solas could get it. WHAAAAAT WHO SAID THATTTTT, THAT'S WILDDDDDDD...

[slightlyunconventional]

I’m ngl lmao I genuinely did like a quintuple take when I saw your tags on the “what do you remember by as a writer?” post say it might be a long shot bc you haven’t written a ton. I think your fic masterlist is one of the longest I’ve ever seen on snzblr, and the fics are sooo good!

From time to time, I’ll go back and reread some of my favorites or just all the Sh/ado/w and B/one fics (despite never having seen or read the series!), and I always end up being extremely tempted to try getting into the fandom sometime just bc your fics are so enjoyable and you make the characters, their dynamics, and little glimpses into the plot/missions/etc seem so fun! They always come to mind whenever I see the names Ka/z or In/ej anywhere lmao

“Bound” is probably the one I remember best and, ig I’m not sure on the Statistical Accuracy, but I honestly always tend to think of it as one of the most iconic fics in snzblr, esp since I remember seeing it be reblogged a lot and people absolutely dying in the tags lmaoo. One of very few fics I know by name without even needing a second to try to remember it. And I’m usually really not a pollen girlie! But it’s SO well-executed and hot. “Tease” comes to mind for me a lot when thinking about snz while hiding scenarios, esp ones where 1+ character has supernatural/magical abilities

Generally, I definitely remember your writing for being SO good with characters teasing/flirting/being charismatic and smooth (all things I feel like can be really hard to pull off!), kink!chars, struggle to keep composure (love seeing all the ways in which Ka/z, resident composed and collected man, ends up disheveled and a lil pitiful lmao), power dynamics, snz while hiding, wide variety of causes and scenarios that are all bangers, and snz that is Very Well Done and I am Looking So Respectfully at ahdjhajdhsjsba

Oh. My. God. hi

this is genuinely such insane high praise i am seriously about to cry reading this 😭but oh my god yes 100% watch s/ab its well worth it i love it so much ajshsjd

AND LIKE??? this actually means so much to me you’ve complimented me on everything in my writing that im always unsure about SO IM SO. AAHHH RN!!!!?!!!? i always struggle with dialogue and trying to make characters seem “natural” i guess?? like when it comes to how characters actually act i always sort of hit a brick wall so it genuinely makes me so happy and reassured to hear that it Isnt Actually That Bad !!

and yeah i think bound is probably one of my favourite things ive written . ever so it makes me so happy that you also like it AAAAHHHH NO STOP THIS IS THE SWEETEST MESSAGE IVE EVER HAD i appreciate you so much

[lindwurmkai]

Tag Game to Better Know You

I was tagged by @bengesko :D

What book are you currently reading? I'm going through a "cannot read" phase again, but I suppose I was reading Acceptance by Jeff Vandermeer back in ... summer. 😳

What’s your favorite movie you saw in theaters this year? The last time I went to the cinema was for The Last Jedi lmao. Even if there hadn't been a pandemic, I wouldn't have been able to go. 💁🏻‍♂️

What do you usually wear? When I go out, it's usually some combination of a t-shirt, a hoodie, a jacket on top if necessary, and pants chosen largely based on where I'm going (jeggings if I want to make a token effort at looking like my assigned gender, cargo pants or men's jeans if not). Last summer I discovered sporty short shorts and men's tank tops for myself.

At home it's just ... whichever of the clothes that are currently clean are most comfortable, honestly.

How tall are you? 173 cm, which I think is about one Oscar Isaac tall 5'8" to you Americans

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event? Cancer, and I just looked that up - oddly, the aforementioned Jeff Vandermeer shares my birthday! (different decade tho)

Do you go by your name or a nick-name? Currently I've settled on Ocean as my online alias and offline everyone calls me by my chosen name that I've yet to make official. One day!

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child? Absolutely not, but I don't even remember any particular dream jobs from my childhood. All I know is that whatever I may have wanted to do, I am certainly not doing it 😅

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one? In a queerplatonic relationship that I am very happy with! Also theoretically polyam, but it has been too long since I got to meet new people, much less any I liked...

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at? I'll tell you what I'm bad at: answering questions like this off the top of my head. 😩 Good at ... intuitively understanding grammar, I guess?

Dogs or cats? Cats! Nothing against dogs, but they are not special to me the way cats are. Of course I am allergic to both,,,

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favorite picture/favorite line/favorite etc. from something you created this last year? Well, I didn't finish anything because I never do, but I've been writing fanfic occasionally and did also make a few attempts at painting. Here's a line from my most recent WIP, free of context:

"Maybe he can endure a bit of mushiness in exchange for being free of this intolerable yearning."

What’s something you would like to create content for? Idk. Interpreting "content" very broadly, Love And Redemption fanfic and fanart? So if I could finish one of my WIPs, that'd be great. And I don't even know if I'm still physically capable of drawing (as opposed to making my usual abstract paintings, which is a very different process), but I'm tempted to fuck around and find out.

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with? Unsurprisingly, Love And Redemption. I'm still on my Teng She and Qing Long bullshit ... 🐉❤️🐍

Also, *points at icon* that guy. Ying Kong Shi. I think of him every time I feel vaguely unhinged, which is several times a day usually

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this last year? My new primary care physician 😩

What’s a hidden talent of yours? As I jokingly said to my partner while puzzling over this question, I keep my talents out in the open. :P But, ok ... if I have a crush on you and find out you're categorically unavailable (aroace, not into my gender, monogamous and taken etc.), the crush will instantly evaporate. Is that a talent??

Are you religious? Sort of, uh, not anymore. Like, it's complicated and I mostly blame the plurality (headmates with spiritual beliefs having largely gone dormant), but I don't want to go into detail. It used to be more "eclectic spirituality" than "religion" in the organised sense, with a focus on Norse paganism - and I still believe in Wyrd a little, I guess.

What’s something you wish to have at this moment? Adequate health care 😔✌️

Tagging: @river-sludge @lyriumrain @egregiousderp @bloebb @miss-dansukker @macpye

[hope-mikaelson]

@kitkatsmeow : Absolutely could not stop smiling yesterday. Thank you so much @BigSlickKC

[vetteldixon]

4xmulti21champion → teamsilverstone

temporary for the british gp because i love my guys and this is as home race as a home race gets 💚

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

Wondering… what is your favourite darkling scene and why?

When he threatens to skin her aboard the ship

Idk it’s actually hard to decide! I love pretty much all of his scenes post villain reveal! He’s fine early on I guess but like we only get the real depth later. And he’s just awful in the best way. I’ll give you a top three lol

1. The “Fine, make me your villain” scene. First of all, iconic. Second, it just does so much to inform his character!

That one scene pulls so much weight. It both gives us a glimpse of WHY the Darkling does what he does, and what is motivating him— I really don’t think he sees himself as being in the wrong at all! — but also it solidifies how he manipulates Alina/everyone.

I just. love. how that entire conversation he’s framing himself as so reasonable and knowledgeable and that she’s just too emotional and naive to understand!

Also… most underrated moment in that bit is when he makes her beg for Mal’s life lmao

Just that entire sequence is so good? LOOK at this???

The ice cold fakeout of giving her hope that he might spare Mal? The implication that he’s fucking terrified of the fact that her offer is. actually tempting. That he might have a weakness as terrible as feelings.

2. When he tells her his name

Once again, iconic for a reason. I am basic. The careful gambit of showing her any small degree of vulnerability. The conversation about immortality and outliving everyone they know and love. ONCE AGAIN him trying so so hard to play the older and wiser card with her. And like to a point that is somewhat true. But he is also completely insane and morally bankrupt and refusing to see that lmao. I love his insistence, almost for his own peace of mind, that if given enough time, she will eventually and inevitably turn out just like him. Because he’s so terrified of accepting that he might be even vaguely in the wrong, or that immortality can be anything but lonely misery.

This scene also gives us the great exchange of “Tell me, Alina, has he claimed you yet?” “Like a peninsula?” AND “You were meant to be my balance.” The bald faced fucking lie that he’d even WANT to change. The implication that she exists for him, because of him. Just. What an arrogant, self important, evil little, manipulative bastard! I love him 😂

I had to look up the scene to talk about it and like every line out of his mouth in it is honestly just. amazing.

3. Okay fine. I do legit love the scene aboard the ship and the direct aftermath when he’s like “I never would have actually done it, why would you believe such awful things of me :C ”

Idk! maybe it’s the lying, manipulation, and attempting to magically enslave her to commit war crimes?

[what-i-call-men]

Jiggle physics

Jeff Pfister x female!reader

Warnings: SMUT, dominant reader, sub Jeff, some degradation towards Jeff, a bit of voyeurism at the end (reader finds out mutt saw the whole thing)

Request: My fic thought for the night (up for grabs) but it’s Jeff pfister. Reader is a dancer/instructor and Jeff studies her for “jiggle physics”. Thought is definitely a smut

One again I am stealing a picture from @copy-of-a-cheeto because I love the icons they make. Thank you!!

Also thank you to @divineruler for proof reading

It was another day for you to begin with. You were working at a small gym in town after your other job hadn't really worked out. You were freshly graduated from college and needed somewhere to work while you looked for other opportunities, a gym was your best option. Now you weren't an avid gym person, but you did enjoy dancing so you ended up instructing a Zumba class. It was more of a hip hop class because your gym was right near a college town, and early 00s Spanish didn't reach college kids as much as hip hop and rap music.

This week you had specifically scheduled a dirty Thursday class, uncensored music and a lot of confidence boosting music. You were doing your last few songs, pushing everyone to their "sexy limits" as you put it. You had stripped off your tank top, now just in your sports bra and leggings. When you were stripping off your top, you had a few of your regulars whistle or cheer, some even joining you as they knew the choreography. You ended your last high energy song and started your cool downs, opting to leave the shirt off as you were definitely sweating right now.

The slow sounds of Just the two of Us by Grover Washington jr played through the speakers as you instructed your class to stretch out. As you faced them, you couldn't help but catch a glance of blonde hair from outside the glass doors to the room. It looked familiar but you couldn't put your finger on it as you continued your instruction. After you finished your cool down, you moved to gather your things as some of the students chatted with you. One of your best friends had walked out to run to the locker room and came back, running up to you and pinching your arm a bit. "You'll never guess who is outside looking for you." She whispered so others wouldn't hear.

Turning to her you rubbed the now pained part of your arm and raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Um I don't know, Ryan Reynolds ready to sweep me off my feet?" You asked and reached down to pick up your gym bag and tank top, choosing to toss it in the bag rather than putting it on. Your friend followed you out of the classroom with the rest of the remaining class. "No, it's fucking Jeff and Mutt from high school." She whispered and nodded to the front desk where they stood, talking to a receptionist. You looked at them for a second.

"And they have those same dumb haircuts from when they were 12." You choked back a quiet laugh as you approached the front desk. Mutt saw you first and then elbowed Jeff to look up at you. "Hey boys, long time no see." You said and walked up to the pair, holding out your membership card to the front desk people to clock you out. "What warrants such an abrupt visit from the resident horny weeb club." You said and led the boys out, your friend keeping a close distance behind the group.

"Hey y/n, can we talk to you alone? We have a job offer for you?" Mutt said and glanced at your friend. You stopped outside the gym and nodded to your friend to go to the car you shared. "What job could you two possibly have for me? Last I heard you guys were just trolling random people online and spam liking my Instagram pictures." You said and crossed your arms. You weren't really friends with the two in high school, but you did have a friendly teasing relationship with them, rather than really making fun of them like others did. You were really only nice because you never knew who'd end up going crazy, and you'd rather not be on someone's shit list.

"We recently ran into... a lot of money. And we wanted to hire you at our robotics company." Jeff said and gestured excitedly at you. He definitely was on something from the way he had a shake to his hands. "Uh... you two know I majored in archeology? I don't know the first thing past how to google." You said and looked mainly at Jeff. God if he didn't have that stupid haircut still, you'd be tempted to say he got hot. He's got a pretty good body and he looked pretty good in comparison to Mutt. It would help him a lot if he didn't still dress and look like he was 12.

"We're aware. It has nothing to do with your degree. Here, this is what you'd make if you come to work for us." Mutt grabbed a card from his pocket and a pen that hung from your bag pocket. When he handed you the paper you had to blink at the numbers for a second. "Annually?" "Weekly" Jeff corrected your question. You stared at the paper for a second. "How do I know you guys aren't just high or something? How'd you even find me?" You asked and Mutt and Jeff looked at each other before Jeff grabbed his keys from his pocket. He clicked the unlock button and a Rolls Royce beeped from where it was parked only a few spots away from where you stood. "If you're interested come pay us a visit." Mutt pointed at the business card he had handed you and the two walked to the car before you could say anything.

When you got home of course you researched the company name on the card. Kineros Robotics had made actual headlines and pictures of the men were on different sites about their sudden influx of money to their company from a generous anonymous donation. You glanced at the card and pursed your lips before pulling up Instagram, going to Jeff's page, glancing at the pictures he's posted and biting your lip. God you could really tell he was either still a virgin or very submissive in some sense. He wasn't like any of the gym bros that hit on you or messaged you. With a small surge of courage, you hit the 'message' button and typed out a quick text.

After messaging back and forth about the job opportunity for about two days, you found yourself standing outside the main entrance to the robotics lab. You walked down the hall to see glass doors and just a buzzer. You buzzed and were quickly let in. "You guys should get a receptionist or someth-" your words were cut off when you saw what was really in the room. There were humanoid robot figures and a lot of latex parts just laying around. A lot of these parts were tits or asses, all different shapes and sizes but there seemed to be something off with all of them.

"Hey I'm glad you made it. You can set yourself up in the room over there." Mutt said as he stared down at his computer. The room was all white, some windows around but pretty much all of them had shade covering them with little to no light peeking through. There was a pile of white powder sitting at each desk. Oh so they were coked out and making sex dolls. What the actual fuck did this have to do with you? "Set my stuff up...?" You asked softly and Jeff stood from his desk to lead you to the room.

"I didn't tell you what you were here for?" He asked as he opened the door to the next room. You shook your head and looked at the hardwood floor and speaker set up. "We need you to be a model. See... our last few latex prints came out... less than desirable- jiggle wise. Our math was way off and we need these to be as real as possible." Jeff said and walked to a small cabinet in the corner of the room. "I need you to put this on so we can monitor your motions to make our robots more realistic." He said and handed you what was barely any cloth. It looked like those dotted suits superheroes wore so their suits could be cgi but instead of a suit it was a bikini top and what is pretty much a skimpy pair of bottoms that were basically bathing suit bottoms with how little they covered.

"Jeff, you didn't mention this." You said and took the clothes slowly as he headed back out to the door. "Just put those on and I'll be back in a few." He said and glanced over your body again quickly before closing the door. You decided to send a quick text to your best friend- just a "here's what I'm doing in case I get murdered" text. After that you slipped the clothes on and stared at yourself in the mirror beside the little cabinet. You could tell this was a makeshift dance room. That was probably what they were looking for. Good thing jiggle physics was your thing in class.

Jeff came back a couple minutes later with a laptop in his hands. He stopped and gulped when he looked over your body in the skimpy outfit, quickly opting to sit on the ground as he monitored the points on the laptop. "Go ahead." He said and positioned the laptop on his lap, having to adjust himself a bit a couple of times. "Jeff... I need music." You said and moved to grab your phone, nodding to the speaker system, him shrugging and letting you do so. As you leaned over the speaker you glanced in the mirror beside you and he was very much staring right at your ass. God if he wasn't such a virgin you'd probably be disgusted. That was probably why they didn't know the right jiggle physics for a woman's body.

You started playing some of your best twerk music, trying to shake off how weird it was to have just Jeff staring at his computer then back to you as you danced. You tried to just close your eyes and get into the choreography as you ignored the awkwardness of Jeff obviously having a boner and you just twerking for him to collect data. You did a few hip swirls and then some quick shakes, glancing at yourself in the mirror. Honestly as you looked you didn't realize you had given Jeff a perfect look of your ass. He ran a hand through his hair as the song began to wrap up. You went to your phone to change the song and decided to strike up a small conversation.

"So… are you getting good data?" You asked and just got a simple nod from Jeff, his stupidly cute bowl cut bobbing back and forth as he nodded. "So you're making sex robots huh?" You asked as you looked through your playlist nonchalantly bending over a bit to give Jeff a good view of your chest. He once again responded with a nod as you started the next song. It was a bit more sexy than the last one. "Why don't you monitor the jiggle physics of sex then?" You asked as you lowered the volume of the song, starting your choreography, which included some moves where you're on the ground, shaking and bouncing as if you were riding someone. "I'm sure they are more accurate than me dancing." You said as you pushed yourself down to the ground chest first with your ass up and facing Jeff.

He adjusted a bit and you moved yourself a bit closer to where he was seated as he chose not to answer you. "If you want more accurate results Jeff, you need the jiggle physics of sex." You stated and gently moved the computer off his lap, placing it on the ground as you gently moved to straddle his legs. "The reason you and Mutt can't get the math right is because you need to really experience a woman's body during sex and neither of you could rope in a girl to fuck you for science. Am I right?" You asked Jeff as you leaned into him, settling yourself on his lap. His face was so red as his eyes kept flicking from your chest to your face. He just nodded silently to your question.

"Jeff, I'm gonna need you to verbally respond to me. I want to hear you say it." You said and ran your hands from his shoulders and down his chest. He took a deep shaky breath. "Fu- I need you to fuck me for science." He said softly and looked up to you as you tutted at him.

"No honey, the other thing." You said and pushed your fingers under the hem of his shirt. He gulped and took in another breath. "I can't get anyone to fuck me. Please y/n I need you." He pretty much whimpered under you as you pushed up to the balls of your feet, leaning forward and beginning to shake your ass a bit from where you sat on his lap. You rolled your hips slowly forwards and pushed your chest against his, leaning up next to his ear. "That's better." You whispered and then left a small wet kiss under his ear. Slowly working down his neck in small wet kisses and sucks.

You could feel his body tense as you reached down between you and gently palmed at him. God you could tell how hard he was without looking. You smirked a bit and continued to suck small hickies on his neck and under his ear as you quickly undid his button and fly, grabbing his dick from his boxers. Wow if you would've known he was packing you probably would've slept with him in high school, but everyone just assumed he wasn't and that was why he didn't get girls. You pumped him slowly and you could hear him let out small moans and whimpers, wanting to stay quiet on the off chance Mutt heard over the music.

As you pumped him you gently bit his earlobe to get his attention. "If you wanna get inside me baby, you gotta help me out." You said quietly and he nodded and willingly let you take his hands and place them on your ass. He gave a small gentle squeeze and you smirked as you felt him twitch in your hand. "God... fuck... holy shit..." he muttered as you rolled your hips against his thighs, wanting to at least stimulate yourself a little bit.

"You wanna make sure my monitoring is ok baby?" You whispered and he glanced over at the laptop, still reading the outfit you wore. You grabbed his cock again, now moving yourself to push your bottoms to the side. Slowly sinking down on to him, you could've sworn Jeff came right then. And he did. But that wasn't going to stop you from helping him out for the 'sake of science'. You grabbed his hands and placed them on your waist so as to not interfere with his readings. Slowly you began to bounce on him, feeling all parts of your body begin to bounce. Jeff was letting out the most sinful noises. Honestly it sounded like he only knew what moaning was from women in porn, but you didn't mind- honestly it was hot to have him be so responsive.

"Oh baby you're gonna be too loud, Mutt might interrupt us and you wouldn't want that would you? Don't want him to find you moaning like a whore for me." You said lowly as you reached up to gently squeeze his throat. He closed his mouth and nodded at you as you continued to bounce on him. God you could tell how close he was to coming again, but lord knows you weren't done with him. His moans got quieter but he still let out small whines from below you. You reached down to rub your own clit as you bounced on top of him. "Fuck baby, you wanna fuck me so bad? How about you get that data you need by pounding me from behind?" You muttered and climbed off of him.

He barely questioned you when you did so, only whining a little at the loss of contact. As you turned around and got on your knees, pushing your ass up in the air, he quickly moved to his own knees, pushing into you and beginning to thrust at a rapid pace. You could definitely tell his knowledge of sex is from video games and porn because he kinda went wild. He pounded hard and you couldn't help but moan out as he grabbed your waist with a tight grip. After he got a hang on his speed, he reached forwards and pulled you up, pushing you against the mirrored wall he had been leaning against, he paused momentarily to undo the bikini top, and as soon as it dropped to the ground he was grabbing your tits from behind.

You pushed back against him, your face now pushed against the foggy mirror as he thrusted into you hard. "Fuck.... fuck y/n." He grunted out quietly as his thrust became more sporadic and sloppy. You could tell he was gonna come again, so you reached behind your head and grabbed his hair firmly. "You're not coming again until I cum. You fucking hear me?" You groaned as he continued to thrust into you. He nodded and reached around in front of you, fumbling for your clit for a moment before you corrected his hand placement and showed him the correct movement. He rubbed quickly and in pace with his thrusts, you could tell from his look in the mirror that he was trying so hard not to cum.

As soon as you finally reached the edge, you let out a loud and pretty pornographic moan of his name mixed with some swearing and praises. "God... fuck Jeff you feel so good in me. I want you to cum baby. I want you to cum in me baby." You thrusted back on him and kept your hand firmly tugging at his hair. It was only seconds before he was coming in you, his own face twisted in pleasure as you looked at him through the mirror. He slowed to a stop and slowly removed himself from you. You only caught your breath for a couple moments before there was a knock on the door.

"Hey those were good readings, we're gonna need you here again tomorrow so we can get some other position readings." Mutt called through the door. You looked at Jeff. "Could he see the reading the whole time?" You asked Jeff quietly. He bit his lips and nodded. "I assumed you knew because you saw this room through the glass when you walked in." Jeff said and pointed to the mirror which was in fact a one way mirror you had seen walking in from the lab, which you falsely assumed was a window because of the shade. "So mutt saw the whole thing?" You asked softly, slowly piecing everything together. Jeff nodded, scared you were gonna be upset. You only shrugged and reached over to gently grab his throat again. "Guess now he knows how good of a whore you are for me then." And god if he hadn't just come, Jeff probably would've come again from that action alone. Damn you were gonna have fun working here.

[swymsuyt]

sorta tagged by @pauleonotis it looks fun and i don’t want to sleep yet

if u didn’t come here for stuff about me that’s cool i have this but that’s all

1. Why did you choose your url?

it’s a bad pun of my name :] yongyi sounds like 泳衣(swimsuit) + i swapped out the “i” for “y”

2. Sideblogs?

i have one and it’s honestly just an sitp-rec fan account at this point (thank you for all the recs liv i am drowning in good content)

i’m tempted to make a nsfw side blog, but tumblr feels too permanent and weirdly public hmm :v plus i don’t draw nsfw super often

3. How long have you been on Tumblr?

a couple of years probably :v although i’ve ditched this account several times

4. Do you have a queue tag?

nobe

5. Why did you start your blog?

maybe 2017?? or 2018??

6. Why did you choose your icon?

his sweater matches the colour scheme so

7. Why did you choose your header?

i should change it bc it’s so low res but have u ever seen such a blonde pigeon?.!.??? also they look like they’re about to square up

8. Post with most notes?

i have no idea :v i deleted a lot of my old stuff but i think it still makes rounds

9. How many mutuals do you have?

how would u even go about checking that

10. How many followers do you have?

7.5k but please remember i’ve had this blog for years, and i’ve drawn for like 8 different fandoms i feel like i’ve lived several lives and none too productive

11. How many people do you follow?

137

12. Ever made a shitpost?

i think most of my blog is a massive shitpost

13. How often do you use Tumblr each day?

i mostly come on here to reblog stuff and leave o(-( i try to keep up with messages/mentions/replies but a lot of the times i cant articulate what i wanna say so i delay replies,, sorry :[

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog?

no but does anyone want to start something

15. How do you feel about „you need to reblog this“ posts?

it feels like when ur parents tell u to do something and it makes u not want to do it

but also if it’s genuinely useful and actually accurate then i would

16. Do you like tag games?

yes but i’m an unfortunately boring person

17. Do you like ask games?

yes but read above

18. Which of your tumblr friends/mutuals do you think is famous?

again how would somebody even know

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

yes many everyone is remarkably skilled at what they do and i have a fat crush on all of u

this thing’s fun and relatively non invasive so feel free to do it and tag me so i can start a fight with u :] i need to sleep now

[julethiefs]

carmen sandiego as the jatp soundtrack

actually yes i am going to combine my two favorite tv shows and you can’t stop me <33

now or never

“clocks move forward // but we don't get older, no”

“keep dreaming like we’re living forever // but live it like it’s now or never”

“and even if we hit the ground, we’ll keep flying”

this song just ??? *screams* carmen right after she escaped vile... her being so excited to explore the world and not caring about falling down and her enthusiasm to stop vile without really knowing what they’re like yet... yeah 

wake up

“get out, get out, relight that spark”

“its not what you lost, its what you’ll gain”

“better wake those demons, look them in the eye”

this song has such jules vibes (jules is definitely julie in this hypothetical au... even besides the names its just so perfect), and besides the fact that julia’s mom is also dead (see necklace theory) jules finding this song and singing it would be so amazing i cannot handle this 

this band is back

“we gotta get ready, cause its been years” 

“can you hear me” “LOUD AND CLEAR”

team red singing this band is back is something that can actually be so personal... 

bright

“life is a risk, but i will take it”

“we will fight to shine together, bright forever”

“together, i think that we can make it” 

do i. do i really have to say how much julethief this is. the way they shine and work well together, the way everything they do is the epitome of a risk but they do it anyways, the way together they can stop vile. yeah i’ll stop now 

flying solo

“my life, my life, would be real low, zero, flying solo”

“if somebody hurts you, im going to get hurt too”

yes i know this song is julie singing to flynn. in this au its jules singing to carmen (or vice versa idk) the amount of brainrot this au can hold... nobody mention stockholm but yeah it definitely fits and just. scream.

i got the music

“weight off my shoulders, dancing instead”

“can't stop the music // back inside my soul” 

i don’t even have coherent reasoning for this one i just think we should get to see jules sing this song and have player rap flynn’s parts. as a treat <3

the other side of hollywood

“we could go make history or you could rest in peace”

“everything has got a price but happiness is free”

“the rain don’t blind the rising souls // they got too much to see”

we all agree that hgc is basically vile but more dramatic and less green, right? also ive been trying to think of which of the faculty would be caleb in this au... i’m guessing countess cleo is the only one who could really pull it off well? but yeah... tr getting stuck at the hgc would be so so good and painrot

finally free

“hearts on fire // we’re no liars // so we say what we wanna say”

“i wanna fly // come alive // watch me fly”

“i got a spark in me” 

“been so long, and now we’re finally free” 

“now till eternity”

this is the ultimate julethief song actually i will not shut up about it (hence the excess of quotes). just !! the way its abt them not hiding anymore, “now till eternity” with “transcends space and time” ... yeah sounds like canon to me 😋  there’s so so so much quality content in this song i love it so much and just. this with julethief ???? my heart can’t handle this kind of excitement

perfect harmony

“bittersweet love story about a girl”

“two worlds collide when i’m with you” 

“we come to life when we’re in perfect harmony”

yes i know this was cs as jatp songs apparently somewhere along the line it dissolved into julethief but honestly are any of us surprised ??? its just so so perfect the way the lyrics describe them is just LGSHDAFLS “two worlds collide” (acme vs jules’s personal wants/desires) “in perfect harmony” *cough cought* did anyone mention the duane interview? no  ‘they work in harmony even when they’re not in the same scenes” yeah practically the same thing !!  (edit bc carmen pointed this out and i am screaming: perfect harmony is basically the tsonts dance scene and i cannot get over this) 

edge of great

“running from the past, tripping on the now” 

“what is lost can be found, its obvious”

“i believe that we’re just one dream // away from who we’re meant to be” 

“we’re standing on the edge of great” 

EDGE OF GREAT MY BELOVED !!! this song is SO iconic and you know whats even more iconic ??? the way it works so perfectly with carmen sandiego... carmen and jules post canon ?? 👀👀👀. i am looking at the lost/found line in particular for that but all of it works so so well (also side note but i would die if we got the classic juke nose scrunches with julethief actually)

unsaid emily

“i should have turned around // but i had too much pride” 

“and write in every empty space the words “i love you” in replace”

“the words i most regret are the ones i never meant to leave // unsaid emily”

to be honest this is the song that stumped me the most? it would take a bit of canon reconfiguring- either we’re making brunt more sympathetic (ew) or carmen grew up with carlotta and then had a falling out ??? i think that would make more sense, especially with carmen trying so hard to find her again after 25 years (the timeline matches closer than expected actually 👀 ) this song is peak painrot so have fun with this besties <33

you got nothing to lose

“ain’t nothing quite like living on the edge” 

“i’m chasing down a thrill, looking fit to kill” 

“you got nothing to lose, boys”

this scene would be so terrifying actually like, we already got the dark!carmen trauma so watching caleb have the ability to manipulate her would just be ABSOLUTE painrot *distant screaming* also the way the offer would be so tempting to team red ?? just bc carmens whole life is living on the edge, chasing down thrills, and being unable to settle down but she stays for jules i. yeah im soft what about it 

stand tall

“and it’s one, two, three, four times // i’ll try for one more night” 

“whatever happens // even if i’m the last standing // imma stand tall” 

“keep holding on, never look back” 

“i keep going on when it’s all falling apart // yeah i know it with all my heart”

thinking thoughts... julethief post canon with this song.... yeah i would be decimated on impact just the way jules thought carmen left but CARMEN COMES BACK.... canon ? i dont know her <33

in conclusion julethief/cs jatp au supremaki besties ♥️

[subwalls]

Tales from the SMP Presents: The Haunted Mansion

An ongoing exploration of how the Inbetween drives my Kingdom Hearts brain crazy with paranoia! Less of an analysis this time, because we got confirmation (VALIDATION!!), and more of speculation, but yeah!

First of all! I was right not to trust this fucker.

Just kidding, that’s not the first thing we’re gonna talk about here. First of all, a gentle recap!

As I’ve mentioned before, the Inbetween has some uncanny resemblance to the Kingdom Hearts world known as Castle Oblivion. Castle Oblivion is known for being the place where the main series protagonist lost all of his memories, and even had false memories implanted while he was getting deeper and deeper into it. 

You might be curious as to how the Kingdom Hearts protagonist escapes.

He doesn’t.

He needs outside help, and a lot of it, to get him out of that situation. Even then, it takes a whole year. He drove his own heart into the bottom of the abyss in his desperation to save someone he was tricked into thinking he knew, and he didn’t even regret it, because he was saving someone.

... A lot of people on Dream SMP have different ideas on what it means to save people.

Also, the castle also had a very plot-twisty secret where it used to be the lush and wonderful home of these three friends before they fell apart; one was lost to the Evil Dark Side™ (not real name), the other was trapped in the Realm of Darkness (real name), and the last one fell into a coma for TEN (10) YEARS and his body was left to be protected in the heart of the land, which was then locked and turned into Castle Oblivion.

So, pretty fucked up place! Not inherently evil, but the place of great misfortune and just... not very good for everyone there.

Let’s start at the beginning!

Welcome back indeed. Take notice of the wither rose in the pot, by the way, I’ll come back to this in a bit.

The first thing that stands out to me on this page is the smiley face, of course. It’s not the ever-iconic, ever-evil “:)”, but it’s similar enough that I think the callback is intentional. The smiley is c!Dream’s icon, of course, which... honestly makes me think that “:]” might be DreamXD, but that might be because I’m very very biased for the server god who simps for a dangerously apathetic cottagecore once-king.

Of course, it does also look kind of like Quackity’s face, and cc!Quackity has said something about big lore coming for him, but until further evidence is presented I’m disinclined to draw a connection there.

The Inbetween, as we’ve come to know the author of some of these books to be, being happy that Karl is continuing—it reminds me of the KH protagonist being told yes, good job, keep going, as he stumbles deeper and deeper into the castle that strips away memory after memory from his heart. Why does the Inbetween think that Karl’s time travel is important, his careful documentation of every story? Is it because the more he does it, the more he becomes attached? The more he becomes reliant on the Inbetween to feed the missing pieces of his memory?

Is it because the Inbetween, in parallel to c!Dream and c!Wilbur, prioritize the concept of story over the characters?

Things to think about. 🤔

Also kind of interesting that the Inbetween thinks Karl will eventually uncover “all [he] needs to”, which continues to make me think that the more c!Karl comes to the Inbetween the more he becomes... either dependent or over-trusting of it. Not sure. But weird things happen when it’s magic that tampers with memories, rather than trauma.

Basically, I’m getting “there is no war in Ba Sing Se” vibes.

The book continues to say that Karl probably has a lot of questions and that it would love to answer :] but never actually does. It’s trying to come off as helpful without actually being helpful. All it does is tempt him with the prospect of answers, and then draws him in deeper. “Continue onward, Karl.” But why?

Another wither rose pot.

Sidestepping the very innocuous, very surface-level information offered here (because that’s it, it’s nothing about the workings about the Inbetween, it’s just a little sweet carrot to distract with), I cannot even begin to convey the absolute terror that consumed me at the word “sleepy.”

I mentioned earlier that one of the original characters who lived in the land that would become Castle Oblivion went into a coma, right? But it’s more commonly referred to as sleeping. The game is even called “Birth by Sleep”, and there’s a whole thing about trying to get him to “wake up”. So the idea that time travel can take something out of the traveller that makes them tired, the idea that there is one specific room for sleeping quarters within the Inbetween, paired with that not-quite-right smiley face—I am traumatized, I tell you.

Yes it could be a “haha look what I did with the sentence, because day is a form of time and they time travel so long day is a funny term” kind of smiley, but. Kingdom Hearts has trained me to be suspicious of any talk of sleep.

There’s something just mildly unsettling about the way it continues, with the references to the “many Karls” and the “many many great stories” that sounds borderline condescending.

And now we get the, uh, “other” author. Notice how this one actually did not have a corresponding wither rose in a pot. I’m starting to think that the flower might actually be an indicator of the not-this-author-pictured-above, the probably-Inbetween-itself, so the fact that this book was found separately from a wither rose pot and it was tucked away under a tree... A tree, under which c!Karl will later find a bit of a refuge... yeah, different author. Or at least an author from a different time.

I’ll elaborate in a moment, but I do think that there’s three (3) mindsets/authors happening here: the sickly sweet Inbetween pretending to be good, the person trying to get c!Karl to distrust the Inbetween, and... someone who desperately wants c!Karl to stay in line.

This is the third... I don’t want to say author, because it too has the wither rose pot and is trying to keep c!Karl playing along with the Inbetween, but it’s much less coherent and much more desperate.

No “:]”, either.

Some possibilities I’m considering:

the Inbetween, but it’s like, a security subroutine or a glitch in the system,

the Inbetween, but it’s from a future wherein c!Karl has fucked it up to the point of desperation,

Karl / the other author, but it’s from a future, where trying to stray from the Inbetween resulted in something traumatic happening and they don’t want it to happen anymore.

Some fun possibilities to keep in mind. Anyway!

Ooh, the return of the wither rose pot.

For this part, the only thing I really have to say is that the repetition of the Inbetween trying to present itself as “a place to feel at ease” is... Well, as the lovely Fear has said in this post linked here, a place that tries and makes itself seem safe probably isn’t, because a genuinely safe place wouldn’t need to announce it all the time.

Very much sounding like a Ba Sing Se thing.

More importantly, the book actually says that it’s “wild” how the Inbetween is “so beautiful that even time travellers who go anywhere at anytime ever and they still choose here” with a good old “:]” tacked on at the end. That’s... that’s not just me thinking like that sounds kind of threatening, right? Like, time travellers can see anything anywhere, and they keep coming back to the Inbetween. Why?

Is it because they forget the beauty of anything else? Is it because it’s not beauty, but rather attachment and emotion that keeps someone going back to a place? If someone forgets their loved ones and precious things, then why would they go anywhere but the place where they’ve put all their stories?

Why did KH’s protagonist keep going deeper into Castle Oblivion even though he knew that the castle was taking apart his memories? Because he had one thing left: the fake, implanted memory, which told him that in order to save someone, he needed to push on no matter the personal cost.

So the real question is: are the time travellers coming back to the Inbetween because they want to, or because they no longer have a choice?

It regards all the different Karls with such... distant affection, too. “How beautiful,” it calls them, for wandering the blank halls with blank stares and blank hearts, none of which react to each other. It says that they “choose” to walk the halls, uncover mysteries, and tell stories. But what was the other choice? Was it really a choice at all?

Hmm.

Karl goes on to explore, and finds another book that does not have a wither rose pot, which tells him he has to go Under The Tree.mp3 and informs him that he “can’t afford not to”. Cool. Not ominous at all.

He finds another, which says the same thing.

Definitely not ominous. /s

The phrasing here is interesting, because it’s also phrased like a threat. Usually, when someone tells you that you “can’t afford not to”, you’re either looking at a scam or at the business end of a weapon. But the empty pages tell you that the author is trying to keep it down low. That’s one of the ways Minecraft players have found to express tone in the very limited form of Minecraft books, and it works splendidly.

Not to push my DreamXD agenda, but like... the door was iron. Iron doors are a weakness for Dreams and dreamons and, mayhaps, Dream’s dreamon.

I know it’s probably just because the iron door keeps in line with the color palette of the build but let me dream, alright.

Anyway, book content! And an interesting point of order: there is a wither rose pot. I said earlier that it might be an indicator of the Inbetween as an author, but that doesn’t make much sense now, does it? This is meant to be a place hidden from the “it” that I assume to be either the Inbetween itself or the one/s controlling it.

So why the wither rose pot inconsistency?

Unless it doesn’t mean that. Unless it’s just a metaphor for, say, memories withering away or something. Or maybe it’s just a pretty plant, for funsies! Who knows. If I had to guess, I’d say that (after much reflection) it’s likely less a mark of author and more a theme of, mm, memory status. The withering away of memories. It fits in with the Inbetween, because that’s what might be responsible for it, but the author/s of the book aren’t immune, either. They get blinks of clarity, with the hidden, tucked-away tomes, but they might not be completely free.

The next book, however, again lacks the wither rose pot. It might not be a coincidence that the one without the potential mark of a withering memory is the one that actually divulges some more information.

This book goes into slightly more detail about the warning, though not about whatever actual threat it is that the castle (which... Castle Oblivion, you know) presents.

It says that 1) it’s not what it seems, 2) the "truth about the other forms of you”, 3) this place “is not okay”, and 4) get in that portal we saw that was blocked off before.

We know that the Inbetween isn’t what it seems, but the “truth” about the other forms... Hm. This is, in fact, another Kingdom Hearts Thing. There’s a running joke that everyone on the very large cast of characters in KH that in the end, every person is actually either secretly a version of the antagonist (through possession or body splitting or whatever), or a version of the protagonist (through similar concepts). Multiple bodies and other forms is definitely a Thing in KH, though it’s not as oh-god-not-again definitely-bad as the sleeping thing.

I think the other forms have either become reliant on the Inbetween or have forgotten everything but the Inbetween, or both. Maybe more of the prior, since the warning is against trusting the place.

And, uh, this? Fucking terrifying. I love it to pieces.

Every single one of these books has a wither rose pot, and this is kind of why I think that the Inbetween or its master/s is, in some way, possibly functioning via routines and like... an AI. Or a genius loci kind of thing.

But good news, there aren’t 13 books, there are 14! This is important for Kingdom Hearts reasons, because Kingdom Hearts has a big thing about the numbers 13 and 7 (13 is the number of pieces of darkness, and 7 is the number of pieces of light, and this is equal somehow, don’t question it).

Now, 14 is an important meme number in the MCYT fandom, of course, but I don’t think it has terribly too much to do with the lore beyond a fun easter egg.

The books themselves trying to tell c!Karl to, essentially, go with the flow and the path that the Inbetween has set up for him is... something. I like the idea that it’s some future version of something trying to stop something from happening, but we all know it’s probably not going to work. Fun times.

And finally, this.

The Inbetween is a bit of a narcissist, huh? It won’t shut up about how it’s so pretty and irresistible and the whole definition of, like, a honey trap. Oh my god it even describes it as ~mysterious~ as a good trait, that’s hilarious.

More pertinently, it also calls the Inbetween “a time traveller’s dream”.

A time traveller’s. Dream.

Again, not to push my DreamXD agenda, BUT—

But! Getting back on track, the book expresses its eagerness to see Karl again, says their relationship is gonna be great, reminds him that his stories are important, and then tells him that he needs the Inbetween/author just like the SMP needs him.

Uh. He’s going to need the Inbetween?

Hello?

Why? How? So far it’s presented itself as being pretty and perfect but it never said anything about necessity! What’s going on!

Very much reminded of how Castle Oblivion was presented as “you need to keep going in even though it takes your memories away because there’s someone you need to save [fake but you don’t know that because you don’t remember anything]”, and I am afright.

Talk about subtle strings being tugged at here. I’m really seeing the beginning seeds of a dependency thing being sown, and if it weren’t for the side books painting giant neon warning signs everywhere, I don’t know if it would’ve caught on. An artificially cultivated concept of how important and great the Inbetween is, and don’t you just want to take all those stories from that messy world elsewhere but come back here in the end to take a break and exist and explore and oh, isn’t the Inbetween great, isn’t it wonderful?

Man, c!Dream wishes he was this good at subtle manipulation.

tldr; there are multiple authors trying to tug c!Karl in different directions via those books. The Kingdom Hearts parallels predict that his memory will be at stake, and he might not be able to escape without help.