#the rise of solo harry

[raurquiz]

#happybirthday @WarwickADavis #warwickdavis #actor #Willow #Leprechaun #StarWars #ReturnoftheJedi #CaravanofCourage #AnEwokAdventure #EwoksTheBattleforEndor #ThePhantomMenace #TheForceAwakens #RogueOne #TheLastJedi #SoloAStarWarsStory #TheRiseofSkywalker #HarryPotter #Labyrinth

[sweetcherryharry]

i love you, i'm sorry

based on the song 'i love you, i'm sorry' by gracie abrams.

pairing: harry styles x actress!reader

i promise the next one shot i post won't be angsty!! haha i just love it.

(masterlist)

Two Augusts ago, the world was theirs. Y/N, a rising actress with a radiant smile and a captivating screen presence, had just landed her breakout role in a critically acclaimed film. Harry, the soloist singer from one of the most known boy bands worldwide, was on the cusp of global stardom. Their paths crossed at a star-studded after-party, a whirlwind of flashing cameras and intoxicating energy.

Their connection was instant, a magnetic pull that drew them together like moths to a flame. Y/N was captivated by Harry's wit, his passion for music, and the vulnerability he revealed beneath his confident exterior. Harry, in turn, was mesmerized by Y/N's intelligence, her infectious laughter, and the way her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief.

Their romance blossomed in the spotlight, a whirlwind of red carpet appearances, stolen kisses backstage, and late-night jam sessions in dimly lit recording studios.

Y/N's career soared as she took on challenging roles, her performances garnering critical acclaim and adoration from fans. Harry's solo career skyrocketed to fame, their music topping charts and filling stadiums with screaming fans.

But as their individual stars rose, the cracks in their relationship began to show. The demands of their careers pulled them in opposite directions, leaving little time for the intimacy they once cherished.

The constant scrutiny of the media added another layer of pressure, their every move dissected and analyzed under the harsh glare of the public eye.

As Harry's band embarked on a grueling world tour, the distance between them grew, a chasm widening with each missed call and unanswered text.

Y/N poured her heart into her latest film, a drama that demanded her full attention. Long hours on set and emotional scenes left her drained and craving the warmth of Harry's voice, the comfort of his touch. But his calls became sporadic, his texts filled with vague apologies and promises of making it up to her.

One sweltering August evening, after a particularly draining day on set, Y/N's phone finally buzzed with an incoming call from Harry. A wave of relief washed over her as she eagerly answered, her voice trembling with a mixture of longing and frustration.

"Harry! It's been days," she exclaimed, trying to keep the hurt from her voice. "I've barely heard from you."

"I know, love," he replied, his voice muffled as if he were speaking from a crowded space. "I'm so sorry. It's been crazy out here."

"Crazy? Or just too busy for me?" Y/N retorted, the words escaping her lips before she could stop them.

A heavy silence settled over the line. "Don't start this again, Y/N," Harry sighed. "You know how hectic touring can be."

"But you promised to call more often," she said, her voice rising with each word, like the crest of a wave before it crashes. "You promised to make time for us, even when you're on the road."

Her eyes, once filled with trust and understanding, now held a glimmer of doubt. The weight of his broken promises bore down on her shoulders, reminding her of the distance that had grown between them.

They had talked about this, hadn't they? It had not been the first time the topic had arisen.

Three times now, they had sat down together for a call, their hearts filled with hope, and he had reassured her with promises of improvement.

But like sand slipping through one's fingers, his pledges faded into emptiness after a few short weeks. The sting of betrayal pierced her heart, leaving her feeling lost and alone.

"I'm trying, okay?" Harry snapped, his patience wearing thin. "But it's not always easy. You have your work, I have mine. We can't expect to be glued to each other's side all the time."

His words stung, a harsh reminder of the growing distance between them. "Maybe you're right," Y/N said, her voice barely a whisper. "Maybe we're not meant to do this anymore."

A tense silence followed, broken only by the sound of Harry's ragged breathing. "Is that what you want, Y/N?" he finally asked, his voice laced with a hint of desperation.

Y/N closed her eyes, tears welling up. "I don't know what I want anymore," she admitted, her voice thick with emotion. "All I know is that this isn't working. It's not the way it used to be."

More silence. Then, a resigned sigh. "Maybe you're right," Harry echoed. "Maybe it's time we both moved on."

The call ended abruptly, the silence echoing in Y/N's ears. She collapsed onto her bed, tears streaming down her face. The love she'd once cherished felt like a distant memory, a fading dream.

Ever since that day, they haven’t spoken.

Two years drifted by, a silent chasm stretching between them, filled with unanswered calls, unsent texts, and a lingering ache of what could have been.

Y/N immersed herself in her career, her ambition a shield against the pain of their separation. Each successful role, each award, was a testament to her resilience, a badge of honor earned through countless hours of dedication and the shedding of silent tears.

Harry, on the other hand, had soared to fame. Sold-out stadiums, chart-topping hits, and a whirlwind of adoring fans marked his journey. Yet, amidst the deafening roar of applause, a quiet yearning gnawed at him, a longing for the warmth and laughter that had once filled his life.

One night, as Y/N mindlessly scrolled through social media, her thumb absently swiping past countless posts, a video thumbnail caught her eye. It was from a popular Pop news account, and the post was recent, just published a few seconds ago.

It was a grainy, fan-recorded clip of Harry's final show in Europe. The caption read, “Harry Styles singing a new, unreleased single about heartbreak on one of his shows on August 18th.”

A date seared into her memory, the two-year anniversary of their heartbreaking split.

Curiosity, mingled with a bittersweet pang of nostalgia, compelled her to click on the video. The familiar strains of Harry's voice filled her ears, but the song was new, raw and vulnerable, a far cry from his usual upbeat anthems. As the camera zoomed in on his face, she saw a flicker of pain in his eyes, a vulnerability she hadn't seen in years.

"This song," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "is special to me. It's for someone who I hurt deeply. Someone who I never stopped loving, even when I was too proud to admit it."

Y/N's breath hitched. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a sob. It was as if he were speaking directly to her, across continents and time zones, his words piercing through the carefully constructed walls she'd built around her heart.

Tears streamed down Y/N's face as she listened to his voice with the guitar melodies, the lyrics pouring out of Harry like a confession, a desperate plea for forgiveness.

I love you, I'm sorry.

The words echoed in her mind, each syllable a painful reminder of their love lost. The video ended, leaving Y/N breathless and overwhelmed.

A wave of emotions washed over Y/N – sorrow, longing, and a flicker of hope she hadn't dared to feel in years. It was as if the distance that had separated them had vanished, replaced by an invisible thread connecting their hearts.

The video ended, leaving Y/N breathless and overwhelmed. Lost in her thoughts, she absently refreshed her Twitter feed, her eyes widening in shock as she saw her own name trending alongside Harry's.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she scrolled through countless tweets, each one dissecting the lyrics of his new song and speculating about its inspiration. The consensus was clear: it was about her.

"Harry's new song is a love letter to Y/N," one tweet proclaimed.

"He's clearly still in love with her," another user declared.

"This is the apology we've all been waiting for!" a fan account chimed in.

The sheer volume of tweets, the overwhelming outpouring of support and speculation, left Y/N reeling. It was as if the world had become a chorus, echoing the unspoken truth that had lingered between them for two long years.

As the tweet became more popular, her phone buzzed with incoming messages from friends and colleagues, all asking the same question: "Is it about you?"

Y/N didn't know how to answer. A part of her wanted to deny it, to protect herself from the potential heartbreak that lay ahead. But another part of her, the part that had never stopped loving Harry, yearned for it to be true.

As she re-listened to the lyrics of his song, the raw emotion in his voice echoing in her ears, she couldn't deny the truth any longer. It was about her. It was always about her.

The emotions swirling within her were too powerful to ignore. With trembling fingers, Y/N typed a simple message:

“Hey.”

She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the send button. But before she could second-guess herself, she pressed send, the message disappearing into the digital abyss.

To her surprise, the three dots indicating he was typing appeared almost immediately. Her heart hammered in her chest as she waited for his response.

“Hey.”

His reply was a single word, but it held a universe of unspoken emotions.

“I listened to your new song,” she typed back, her fingers flying across the screen.

“It's for you.”

The words appeared on her screen, stark and unadorned, yet carrying the weight of two years of regret and longing.

Y/N's breath hitched. She didn't know what to say, how to respond to this unexpected confession. A million questions swirled in her mind, but the only words she could manage were:

"Can we talk?"

The reply came almost instantly:

"Please."

A surge of adrenaline coursed through Y/N's veins. She didn't know where this conversation would lead, but she knew she had to take this chance.

After two years of silence, the door to their past had been cracked open, and she had to find out if there was any hope of rekindling the flame that had once burned so brightly between them.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Ava Gardner (The Killers, The Barefoot Contessa)— She's so goddamn hot. Her and Frank Sinatra could've sandwiched me and I would've thanked them for the privilege

Dorothy Dandridge (Carmen Jones, Porgy and Bess, Island in the Sun)— The first Black actress to ever be nominated for best actress, Dorothy Dandridge was a groundbreaking actress who deserved better. She started her career as a singer, being put in a song-and-dance duo with her sister by their stage mother, and singing in soundies (I highly recommend cow cow boogie, it's adorable), proto-music videos. She started appearing as a featured singer in films. Her star was on the rise and she soon became a star solo performer. She continued acting, but had limited options because she refused to do stereotypical roles. She finally landed a starring role in Bright Road in 1953, but it was the movie Carmen Jones that truly cemented her as a star and sex symbol. Not to sound cheesy, but she literally sizzles on screen. You can't help but understand how poor Harry Belafonte gets caught in her trap, just look at her. This is the role that got her that Oscar nom. She didn't win cause I mean #OscarsSoWhite, but she was a sensation and continued starring in films, despite troubles in her life (including a shitty director bf who fucked with her career and a traumatizing pregnancy/delivery). Outside of her filmwork, she was also an activist, fighting against racism. She left behind an amazing legacy, and continues to inspire many actresses to this day (including also very hot first (and only) black woman to win best actress, Halle Berry).

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Ava Gardner:

Ava Gardner is one of my favorite actresses of all time. Although a lot of her roles in movies are about her being beautiful and nothing else, there are some films where her acting truly shines.

Gifset: https://www.tumblr.com/pelopides/721438308726603776/ava-gardner-as-pandora-reynolds-pandora-and-the

Gifset 2: https://www.tumblr.com/portraitoflestatonfire/731899355804598272/if-the-loustat-reunion-doesnt-look-like-this-then

HER FACE. LOOK AT IT. Also was a life long supporter of civil rights and a member of the NAACP, had lots of fun love affairs with other stars, bullfighters, married several times but was also happy in between to just have lovers and was unapologetically herself.

I literally gasp every time I see her.

Between 1942 and 1964, Ava Gardner was credited in no less 50 films, and is still considered by some to be the most beautiful actresses that ever graced the silver screen. Despite life-long insecurities regarding her talent as an actress, she weathered public scandal, industry hostility, and outright condemnation by the Catholic Church with fearless grace. She would later in life talk candidly about the reality and pain of living through two (studio approved!!) abortions during her short marriage to Frank Sinatra, and while the two of them could not make their relationship work, they remained in each other’s lives for nearly 30 years. She would forever describe herself as a small-town girl who just got lucky, but always felt like a beautiful outsider.

Really genuinely one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever seen. An autodidact. Had amazing chemistry with Gregory Peck to the point where I do think about watching On The Beach again sometimes because they're so good together even though that movie did destroy me. Was a great femme fatale in many movies.

Dorothy Dandridge propaganda:

Beautiful actress and hand-working and talented singer, she's especially notable for the number of firsts she accomplished such as the first African-American woman to receive a nomination for the Academy Award for Best Actress and the first African-American woman to appear on the cover of Life magazine.

Dorothy Dandridge was a classic Hollywood triple threat, singing, dancing, and acting with the best of them. She was the first African American nominated for an academy award for Best Actress for her role in Carmen Jones and she was just jaw-droppingly beautiful.

this og of black film needs no introduction (star on the hollywood walk of fame anyone?), voice of an angel, heavenly features, just an overall stunning lady :)

Look at her!!! She is so unbelievably charismatic in Carmen, it’s insane. Her chemistry with Harry Belafonte is off the charts, and every time she puts another outdoor [sic] on it’s like ‘oh god this is a whole new level of stunning’ 🥵. She was so so talented, when she’s on screen I genuinely dare you to tear your eyes away from her. Deserves to be known so much better but due to Hollywood racism and a tough personal life she didn’t make it as big as she should have done. She’s incredible.

First Black actress to be nominated for the Oscar for Best Actress! Was the first choice for the role of Cleopatra that went to Elizabeth Taylor (we were ROBBED).

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

Kinkmas 🎄 № 2: Voyeurism

summary: harry takes you to amsterdam. 

word count: 4.2k

reading time: 18 min.

content warnings: 18+, sex toys, public sex, sex work(ers), teasing, oral (f reciving), manhandling (if you squint), d/s undertones (harry is just a little bossy is all), pet names (baby, lovie, good girl, pretty girl) implied bi/pan!reader, fxf scene, f solo scene, fxm scenes are also described as well. very obvious ignorance to sex work/sex clubs. 

a/n: now i wanna go to Amsterdam. brb booking my flight! 

________________

Harry prided himself on his ability to plan a trip for the two of you. From beginning to end, you never had a care in the world on these trips other than what dress you would wear to dinner. Even then, Harry often made his preference very clear by digging into your bag while you showered and laying out his pick for the night (accessories included, of course). You didn't mind being his little doll; you liked it when he picked out something for you. It made you feel special; you'd yet to figure out why, but you didn't question it too much. Not when every part of your trip was planned, from the moment you woke up to breakfast in bed to some activity fit for each day to dinner reservations each night. Harry had it all covered. 

You found yourselves on this trip in Amsterdam. 'Just because,' he said. And that was a good enough reason for you to get another stamp on your passport. You've done all the tourist spots thus far. All but one. Until tonight. 

Tonight, you were headed to a show. A show in the redlight district. 

So, what you cheated this time. You saw the confirmation email on Harry's phone from the theater earlier, did a quick Google search, and now your stomach is in knots. In a good way, nervous anticipation more than anything. But still, you had to remain calm. Tonight was a surprise, so you needed to be surprised. 

Harry was sure you were going to be. Regardless of how horrible your acting had been, trying to pretend like you didn't know where you were headed, he knew you too well. He knew you saw the confirmation and damn near planned it for you to see. Harry knew your curiosity would eat at you, and you'd inevitably do your own research. But he also knew that you'd only go searching so far. He hopes he's staying within your boundaries with this one. That this all wasn't too much. But by the way, you're fumbling at the vanity, trying to do the finishing touches to your make-up and hair, telling him you are more than ready for tonight. 

You fumble through your make-up bag in search of a specific brush when Harry comes up behind you, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

"Almost done, baby. I know we are on a timer." you rush out, eyes meeting him in the mirror briefly, not noticing that only one hand is on your waist. The other is behind his back, holding something. 

"Don't rush; we're more than okay on time." he smiles, pressing a hiss to the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine that wakes you up. "Can I ask you to hold onto something for me?" 

You don't look up from what you're doing in front of the mirror; you don't even see what he's holding up. "You have a million pockets, bab-" your eyes widen when they meet his in the mirror after locking eyes with what's in his hand. "You brought that on the plane!" you whisper, through a smile, turning towards him, heat rising to your cheeks at the thought. In his hand was what was slowly becoming your favorite toy that you and Harry had added to your 'playtime.' It was your remote control butterfly-esque toy. It was meant to fill you up just enough while the buzzing base hit right up against your clit just right. You've discussed wearing it in public before but never thought he would commit to the idea. You can't believe he'd brought it. Happy, excited, even, but nervous. 

"I did. Specifically for tonight. Thought it would be appropriate for where we're going?" 

"Where could we possibly be going where that's appropriate?" you smirk, playfully batting at his chest. 

"You'll see," he smirked, taking a moment to read your face. "Look, I know we've only ever used this guy in the bedroom, but I thought it would be fun tonight. If you are uncomfortable, we can scratch -" 

"No!" you rush out, reaching for it in his hand. "I just mean - what were you thinking?"

"Well, I don't want to give away the whole surprise, but it starts with this," He emphasizes by bringing your attention to the toy, "Going inside of my pretty girl." he smirks, looking between your legs, "after I have a taste of course," he adds. 

"Oh, well, of course," you giggle, rolling your eyes playfully. 

"Right. So once I've had my fill of my peach, then this will go nice and snug inside your pussy," Harry says with a smile before he brings his hand up from your hip to your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, his eyes blown out in lust. "And you're going to hold it in there for me. All night until we get back here. Hopefully, if you are up for it, I'll be spending the rest of our last night between your legs. Letting you see Amsterdam from your favorite angle, baby." He rasps, dipping his down and crashing his lips to yours. 

On your back. 

You giggle into the kiss. It was a silly thing you'd said when you were in Paris. You had the perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. You are unsure how he did it; regardless, it was an ideal view. And yet you spent most of the trip, seeing it upside down, while on your back, head dangling off the side of the bed as Harry had worked, orgasm after orgasm from you. You'd then joked that you'd want to see every city with him on your back. Seeing the Eiffel Tower upside down was your favorite way to see it. So it's kind of become a tradition of sorts to have mind-blowing sex in each city you visit together, at least once.  

Harry has taken it to be a challenge to get you that high off him, to say something just as goofy in every city, and if that meant you were on your back, well….it was tradition. He leans in, deepening the kiss, "How's that sound?" He pulls away and chuckles at your eyes, still fluttering open. 

"Good. yeah." 

"Yeah? This is okay?" he asks, seriously, his tone sweet as pie. 

"Yeah. It…could be fun. Just try not to embarrass me too with it too bad," you joke with a sigh, and Harry shakes his head insistently. 

"Never. I'd never embarrass you with this. This is for us, for you. S' not to make a spectacle of you. I'd never." 

"I know," You giggle into a kiss, trying to shake some of your nerves. 

"I just want you to know. Now," He smirks devilishly down at you, lust clouding over his eyes, "Can I?" 

You cross your arms across your chest, "I don't know, can you?" you mock, finally getting to pull his favorite word 'gotcha' on him. And he groans, gripping your jaw again, playfully growling at you. 

"You brat." he sighs at you. He leans down, kissing you deep, before pulling away just enough. "May I?" he asks, eyes never leaving yours. "Please." 

"You may." you breathe out.

You barely have time to register his movements. He's on his knees before you, hiking your dress up your thighs in seconds. He looks up at you with a devilish grin as he shimmies your panties down your thighs. You kick them to the side, and Harry grabs hold of one of your thighs, hooking it over his shoulder, "Lean back, baby. Hold onto the sink." He smirks before planting sloppy kisses up each of your thighs. Slow and intimate.  

Harry wasn't a fan of quickies. Sure, you'd had a few here and there, but they were never Harry's style. He never rushed, not with you. And especially not when he was given the privilege of going down on you. No, he was going to savor every moment he got to spend between your thighs. Knowing that he was the only one to see you from this angle. 

When his lips finally did land where you'd been wanting them, it was just a light peck to your folds. Followed by a long bold lick from your entrance to your clit. 

"Harry, we don't have time." You whine, wanting him to devour you like you both know he wanted to. 

"Shhh, don't you worry about that," he coos, placing another kiss on your thigh, "just relax." He returned his lips to your folds and did what Harry does best. Take you to heaven. He went slow at first, alternating between licking up and down your folds and sucking on your clit. His hands roamed and groped, pulling you down further onto his tongue. He licked and sucked, twirled his tongue. God, was he amazing with his mouth. And never was he stingy in blessing you with his oral talents. He was so lost in you, drunk on the taste of you on his tongue, Harry nearly forgot about his original plan. It wasn't until he felt your fingers twist into his hair, tugging ever so slightly with a whine, that he was brought back down to earth. 

"Can I ask you for one more thing, baby?" He asks against your pussy. You look down at him, eyes blown out in lust, nodding vigorously. You were so close. 

"Mmhmm, anything." You keen, tugging at his hair some more. 

"I need you to come for me. Can you do that?" He asks, looking up at you, slowly inserting his middle finger inside. 

Your mouth falls open, eyes still locked on Harry on his knees for you. "Mmmhmm." You nod. 

"Good girl," He coos, and your stomach flips at the praise, "You come for me, and then I'll give you the toy, and you keep it for the rest of the night, okay?" Again, all you had the brain power to do was nod at him, tugging his hair, pulling him closer. 

You could feel the spring in the pit of your stomach; you were right there. "Harry-"you keen, 

"That's it, baby, come on." He encourages, curling his fingers up, dragging them in and out of you at a pace that has you spinning. "Come on my fingers, baby." 

It's all you need. Harry's permission before you come undone on one of his hands while the other arms hold you up. He works you through your first orgasm of the night, pulling it from you with every drag of his fingers. You barely have time to fully come down before you feel him removing his fingers and inserting the toy. It's slightly thicker than Harry's fingers, so the fit is somewhat snug, but the feeling is phenomenal. 

Harry straightens up once the toy is in place and you've caught your breath. He shimmies your panties back up your legs and straightens your dress out for you. You wrap your areas around his shoulders, bringing him close to you, and he places a sweet peck on your forehead and nose before kissing your lips, just enough for you to taste yourself. "You okay?" He smiles. 

"Yeah. Thank you." You breathe out, your head still a little fuzzy from your orgasm, your legs still a little weak. 

"You don't have to thank me every time I make you come, baby." He chuckles. 

"I know. But still." You shrug, leaning your forehead against his for just a moment. You two stood momentarily while you came down, holding each other against the sink. 

"Can you finish getting ready for me?" He asks, bringing you back to the present. 

"Yeah - just a few minutes." you smile. He looked down at you with a proud grin on his face.

"I'll be out there," he looks down at his watch and chuckles. "Okay, maybe now we are on a bit of a time crunch, but still - baby, don't rush." He places a quick kiss on your temple. "I will be by the door when you're ready." 

'I'll be by the door' was Harry Speak for 'I love you, but you have ten minutes.' You shake your head and opt for a quick brown contour on your eyes to give you some life rather than your planned smoky eye. You topped off the look with some mascara and gloss. It's a nice no-make-up look. 

Perfect for a sex show - Buzzzz. You jolted forward. 'He's a mind reader, isn't he?' You think. How else could he have perfectly cued the vibrating egg to go off at the mere thought of tonight's plans?  

"Lovie - come on," Harry calls from the front of the hotel with a smirk ever so present in his voice. 

Bastard. You curse him in your head, trying to keep your moans at bay. Just when you think you feel like you feel the beginnings of that tingly feeling that starts at the base of your spine once more, it stops. And Harry comes around the corner, no indication on his face that he's the reason you've been hunched over in here rather than out there with him. "You ready?" 

Shit. You hated this game. You were terrible at it. But it was Harry's favorite. 

The game? Harry worked you up, with you doing the same, while you both played coy and ignored the other's attempts until someone broke. That someone was nearly always you. 

"Yes." You squeak out, straightening your dress out. "Fuck." you say out loud. How would you keep this thing in you with a dress if he plans on doing that all night? 

"Everything okay?" he asks condescendingly. 

"Fine." you breathe out. You were not going to let Harry win at this that easy. "I'm fine, let's go. I'm ready." He smiles at you, proud of your attempt to keep the game going. Tonight was going to be so fun for you both. 

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Harry kept you huddled into his side as you moved through the brisk December streets of Amsterdam. Your coat was more style than function, and Harry, ever the gentleman, sacrificed his own for you to stay warm. 

"We're just about - Oh. Here it is." he slows down, pulling you behind him to a door along a strip of stores that looked abandoned. He feels the weight of you stopped behind him. "I promise this is the place." Still, you don't budge, "I have it on good authority that this is the place," he smirks. 

"Who's authority, Harry?" You whisper for some reason, but this feels like the part of town where you whisper. Without answering, he turns his back to you, looking down at his phone again before knocking on the door several times and pocketing it. And it opens. Harry gives a vague riddle, and the next thing you know, you are being pulled behind a doorway in the Red Light District of Amsterdam. 

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It's a theater. A rather large one, with three stages, or one big stage with two diving walls. Each location was wide enough to have stairs leading from the vast audience to each stage. In the back was a bar, lit dimly with a few scattered patrons. But in the center of the room, the audience seating was…different. 

For one, the place was packed with patrons. For seating, there were booths and small tables, but closer to the stage were cabana-type seating, with some sort of private walls made of flowy dark satin curtains. The whole space was draped in dark purple, black, and gold. The lights were low, completely dim, if not for the stage light and the small lamps scattered about on some tables. The music was quiet yet thumping. You could feel the bass in your chest, and the vibrations did nothing to help the ache between your thighs. 

But, the stages. 

That's where the center of all attention in the large room was and where your eyes were glued the entire time Harry pulled you through the theater to your reserved booth. 

"Sit, baby." Harry smiles, tugging your hand for you to follow him into the rounded booth. You look down at him, then behind you, realizing you are blocking people's view. "You like it?" Harry asks, draping an arm around your shoulder as you shrug off his jacket, draping it across your lap. Covering what your dress doesn't. 

My clever girl, Harry thinks. 

"Is this -" 

"This is the show," he whispers down into your ear. "See, each one is a different stage of arousal. See?" he explains, looking out onto the stages. You get a perfect view of all three stages from where you two are seated. You notice a few smaller platforms scattered throughout the room and at either side of the stage, to the right and left. On each platform stood a woman, fully exposed, moving to the music and flowing with the lights that danced across her skin. It was art. 

On the stage closest to you and Harry was a couple, a man and a woman. He was much larger than her, similar to you and Harry's size difference. He towered over her as he caressed her cheek. Their movements were slow and sensual but deliberate as they stood center stage, with nothing but a chair on stage beside them. You were so focused on them and the music and the lights you didn't notice Harry reaching into his pocket, retrieving the remote for the toy. Only when it was too late did you realize. As you feel the toy's vibrations, you reach over, gripping Harry's knee underneath the tiny cocktail table. A small squeak escaped your lips. 

"Shhh…baby, be good. Be quiet for me, okay?" 

"Yeah." you quip out, digging your nails into his thigh, causing him to hiss. 

"Use me how you need, baby," he whispers tightly into your ear, and you have to bite your lower lip to keep from moaning out in this theater. Not that anyone would hear the music and the noises coming from the women on the stage; there must have been microphones on stage with how clear their moans rang through the room.  

Another woman was on the stage to the far right of where you were. She was alone, besides the assortment of toys next to her, but by the looks and sounds of it, she didn't need any of it. No, she was doing just fine the old-fashioned way.  

Then you take in the stage to the left of you. You have to turn your head a little to get a full view of it all, and once you do, the grip on Harry's knee tightens. It was two women in the throws of passion, in a position you've only ever dreamed of. They lay on each of their sides, facing opposite directions, faces buried in each other's thighs. 

"I picked this show for them. Especially. I know you'd love them." He turns the vibrator up, but only a nudge, still a low hum, and nothing to write home about. But with the images and sounds surrounding you, it was enough to drive you mad. His lips linger at your year a second too long, his breath sending those pleasant tingles all over your body. "And Him," he says, drawing your attention back to the stage closest to you. 

The couple is half dressed now, her breasts exposed, and he - well, you know why Harry said what he did. The man was a sight to behold. He couldn't hold a candle to Harry size-wise, but he was impressive and above average. And he didn't even appear to be fully erect. The woman was working on changing that, it seemed. You watched as she took his impressive length into her much smaller hand and pumped him slow, up and down. You looked over at Harry, who couldn't keep his eyes off you. 

"You're missing the show," you whisper as he licked his bottom lip before tugging it between his teeth. You mirrored his action. 

"No, I'm not." He smirked, "Eyes, forward." he demanded softly. He turns up the vibe once again as you watch the woman drop to her knees in front of the man, who's opted to sit in the provided chair. From the way he is sitting in the chair to the side, you have a perfect view of the woman wrapping her lips around him with a pornographic moan. You couldn't help but suck in a breath. Suddenly, you were longing for the weight of Harry to be on your tongue. To feel him fill your mouth, your throat, to hear him groan as you reached up to play with his balls. You craved it. 

 For a split second, you looked around the crowded room. You are taking in the sights and sounds. There were a couple of groups, some people kissing and some whispering to one another, but every eye was locked on that stage. All except Harry, that is. You turn your attention back on the two girls, and they're both cuddled up to each other on a makeshift bed of sheets and pillows on stage, basking in an assumed post-orgasm glow. Harry catches the pout on your lips immediately. 

"I missed it." 

"You better pay attention then," He chuckles, "with all your sense. Not just sight. Listen, smell…feel." 

Feel. 

Oh, this damn egg! The hum of the vibrator is ever-present between your thighs now. Though it's not enough vibration to relieve the ache that's developed, it is starting to get you to that place that makes you warm and fuzzy rather quickly. And you want more, need more. So you turn to face him, landing a sweet peck on his lips. Then, leaning your forehead to his for a moment and leaning into his ear, whispering, "Harry, can I get more, please." You beg, sweetly. He pulls you away from him by the chin, kissing your nose. 

"No. Watch the show." He says and smiles when you huff at him, wiggling in the booth for some much-needed relief, your attention back to center stage. He pinches your arm lightly, "Don't do that, either. You know the rules. Take what I give you." he recites. You nod in understanding and try to focus on the show center stage. 

The woman has the man's cock fully down her throat now, and she sucked him with such enthusiasm, and his head was thrown back in such ecstasy it nearly gave you cock envy. When she finally came up for air with an animated throw of her head, she stood up from her spot between his legs before sitting on his lap, wrapping his arms around his shoulder. She leans in, kissing him slowly as his hands roamed all over her body. Groping, and kneading…spanking. That's when you feel his lips on your neck. And you are going to lose your mind. Was this hot? Absolutely. But you needed Harry like you've never before, and being unable to do anything about it was killing you. 

"Harry, I don't know how much longer I can-"You were close. Embarrassingly close. 

"Okay." He hums, and the next thing you know, the vibrations between your legs stopped. You let out a deep sigh, something mixed with frustration and relief. "There, now….you can focus. Watch them." Harry instructs. 

So you do. You watch. You watch as she slowly takes his length into her hand, pumping him a few moments before sinking down onto him. You hear her moans as she gets fully seated on him, setting a pace. Harry couldn't help but watch and hear your breath hitch as hers did. Knowing what you were thinking, knowing that you were thinking about him. How he feels inside you, stretching you out, making you feel full. He knew because he couldn't help but think about the same. 

As the woman on stage picked up her pace, bouncing on the man's cock up and down, swiveling her hips, you felt it again. The buzzing of the toy between your thighs. 

"Harry," you whisper, gripping onto his thigh again. 

"Shhh, you're okay," he assures but places a quick peck on your shoulder, momentarily drawing your attention to him. "Do you want it off?" He asks, checking in. 

"No!" you rush out, and he smiles at Cheshire's grin before turning it up two more notches. Your grip on his thigh tightens as you bite your lip, turning back to the stage. 

She is close now, you can tell. Her pace is quicker more frantic, and the noises. God, the noises she was making were heavenly, mixed with his groans as you watched him lunge forward, attaching his lips to her chest. 

Harry takes his other hand that wasn't wrapped around you, tangling his fingers with yours, giving them a comforting squeeze. 

"Harry, please." 

"No, baby." He says sternly. He knew what you were asking for, and as much as he hated saying no to you, he wouldn't let you come in public. Even if you were hidden by the walls of the tall booth, even if no one was watching, he would never allow it. When it came to you, Harry was selfish, and when it came to your pleasure and who got to see you in your most intimate moments, he was downright protective. 

Just as the woman on stage reached her peach, you were about to tell Harry that you couldn't hold it. That you couldn't take anymore without coming, the vibrator stops. You lean over, resting your head on Harry's shoulder. 

"I was so close." you pout.

"I know. But I'll take care of you when we get back. I promise."

🎄🎄🎄🎄

kinkmas 2023 masterlist 

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[lemoncrushh]

Saturday Night

Summary: Harry needs comforting after his performance on SNL.

Warnings: None, lots of fluff and emotions

Word Count: 1639

A/N: One shot written in 2017 after Harry's appearance on SNL. I believe this was a request. Written in first person, but the woman's name is not given.

He was nervous.

He didn't want me or anyone else to know he was, but I could tell. And who wouldn't be? It was his first performance in over a year, and his first ever as a solo artist. I would have been nothing but a ball of nerves if it were me. He'd paced back and forth in the green room, spreading his fingers out as far as they would go, bringing them back into a fist over and over again, repeating the cycle each time he'd make it to the other end of the room and turn around on his heels.

I'd sat quietly on the sofa, nibbling on the display of fruit and crackers that sat in the middle of the coffee table. I was nervous too, but I said nothing unless it was to reply to a question, giving him the most space I possibly could. I'd asked him earlier if he would rather I took a seat in the audience, but he assured me he wanted me backstage, waiting for his return. Though he never expressed why exactly, I took it to mean he wanted me to be there for him, for him to see my face and perhaps share an embrace after he'd walked off stage, and I took comfort in that.

I'd watched his first performance on the monitor in the green room, sitting on the edge of my seat, my hands tucked underneath my thighs as I bit my bottom lip. By the end of the song, I'd felt my eyes well up, quickly wiping them away with the back of my hand before he saw. I could tell as soon as he walked in that he was less than pleased with himself. He'd missed a couple of notes, his voice raspier than usual from all the practicing, and once he'd even had to drop a word at the end of the phrase due to lack of air. I knew he had to be mentally scolding himself. But I'd thought it was flawless. He'd done it. He was Harry Styles, rockstar.

He didn't say a word to me as I rose from the couch and our eyes met. Instead, I saw his chest rise and fall with a deep breath before he removed his suit jacket and discarded it on a nearby chair.

I'd watched the rest of the show in the same spot, my gaze again meeting Harry's whenever he reemerged, but quickly faltering. I felt a tenseness in my muscles, a sourness in my stomach, wanting badly for him to tell me how he was feeling. But I knew better. He'd tell me when it was all over, and he could finally take a step away from it all and get out of his head. During the skits, he was his usual charismatic self, and I could tell he was having a good time. But I knew that during his second song, he was again in his head. Not that that was always a bad thing. Just as before, he was flawless, at least to me and probably ninety-nine percent of his fans. Though he seemed a little more relaxed than he had been during the first song, his nerves remained apparent. I wanted to hold him, to tell him how proud I was of him - remind him how incredible he was.

This time when he came into the room, I sensed a lighter air around him, a calmness. I let out a breath and smiled at him, to which he returned with a thumbs up, making me feel a little more at ease. However, he still said nothing, only rolling down his sleeves and grabbing his jacket to put back on. I bit my lip as I watched him on the screen one final time, to bow and blow kisses to the audience as Jimmy thanked him and the rest of the cast and crew. He looked genuinely happy, and that filled my heart with joy and pride.

I stuck around for a while after the show, allowing Harry to hug everyone and say goodbye. I could tell they all adored him, as it should be. I stood by his side while he chatted lightly with people, feeling his hand sometimes squeeze mine. I'd give his a squeeze back, our own little silent conversation. I could feel the tension dissipate from his body little by little as the evening progressed into early morning, though I knew eventually there would be a discussion with actual words. For the time being, I was content in letting him enjoy his moment, the friendly banter with the cast members serving him temporary distraction.

By the time we arrived at our hotel, Harry opting out of the cast party that followed, I could tell he was exhausted, though itching to finally talk. I sat on the edge of the bed, removing my shoes as I watched him, his back to me while he unbuttoned his shirt.

"You were amazing," I declared.

I saw his head turn slightly, though he didn't look at me.

"Coulda been better," he muttered with a shrug, shaking out of his shirt and tossing it on the floor.

I sighed as I rose from the bed, carrying my shoes to my suitcase.

"I don't think so," I argued. "It was perfect to me."

"Mm not to me," he huffed, pulling down his trousers. "I fucked up."

I stood frozen as I watched him cross to the bed and lie down, his arm over his eyes.

"I think you're a little hard on yourself," I said. "Everyone loved it."

"I didn't love it."

"Harry..." I murmured, climbing onto the bed next to him. "It was live television. You were bound to be nervous."

When he didn't reply right away, I worried that I'd said the wrong thing. I laid down beside him, watching his bare chest rise and fall. I wanted so badly to make him feel better.

"I'm really proud of you," I whispered.

Harry dropped his arm and blinked as he stared at the ceiling.

"You did exactly what you set out to do," I continued. "On your terms. Your rules. Your music. That's like every musician's dream. You're living it."

Turning his head finally to look at me, I saw his green eyes glisten.

"You liked it?" he asked, his voice scratchy.

"I loved it, baby," I replied. "And so did your fans. You have to know that, right? Everyone is rooting for you. We're on your side. A couple little glitches mean nothing. In fact, if anything, they made you more likable. It was so raw and real."

"It just sounded better in rehearsal," Harry muttered.

I tried my best to hold in a chuckle.

"You're such a perfectionist," I grinned. "But that's one of the things I like most about you. You keep pushing yourself because you know you can do it. That's what makes you great. That push...that drive...it's appealing."

Harry's expression softened as he sighed, his gaze returning to the ceiling.

"I'm just mad that I let my nerves get the better of me."

"It happens," I said. "But it didn't ruin the performance. It was spectacular."

I caught the corner of his mouth wiggle slightly. "Thanks, baby."

I scooted closer to him, placing my hand on his chest. I was relieved when he covered my hand with his and gave it a squeeze.

"You know how wonderful you are, right?" I asked rhetorically. "I envy you. Even though you might have been nervous tonight, you're the most fearless person I know. You just exude sheer talent, it's in your blood. I'm constantly hearing how kind and charming you are, and I'm so grateful I can attest to that because I see it with my own eyes. At least half the planet is crazy about you, and the other half just saw the show tonight and are gonna be talking about it for weeks."

I saw Harry's eyes blink faster at my words and he squeezed my hand tighter.

"I'm not saying all of this just to make you feel better," I stated. "I mean, I want you to feel better. But I'm saying it because it's true."

I pressed my lips to his cheek then, kissing a trail to the tiny freckles on his cheekbone and up to his temple.

"I'm so proud of you," I whispered again in his ear. "So proud."

With one last kiss, I released him and rolled onto my back. But within seconds, Harry followed, laying his head on my chest. He wound his arms around me, nearly taking my breath away. I smiled to myself as I heard him hum, the vibration tickling my skin from the inside. I let my fingers comb his hair as he continued to breathe and hum gently to the rhythm of my heartbeat. We laid there like that for several minutes until I thought he might be asleep.

"I love you," he spoke, making me jump.

"What?"

I wasn't sure I heard him correctly. Although I'd known for a while that I was in love with him, neither of us had confessed our feelings for the other. Raising his head, Harry looked at me and crawled up my body so that he hovered over me. I stared into his eyes with anticipation until he closed them softly and lowered his mouth to mine. He kissed me passionately, like he had many times before, but somehow also differently.

"I love you," he repeated.

"Harry..." I murmured, pulling him back to me for another kiss. And another.

"I..." I stumbled between kisses. "I love you, too."

Harry grinned, pressing his lips to my forehead, then the bridge of my nose.

"I know," he said, before kissing my lips once more.

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[renx01]

Too Sweet

Prompt: Inspired by the Hozier song Pairing: Harry Hart x (Kingsman!)Reader Fandom: Kingsman Tags/Warnings: age gap, mutual pining, angst Word count: 6495

Masterlist

You’d joined Kingsman only five years ago, and over time you’ve become a well-respected agent, code-named Tristan. Merlin, who is your uncle, was the one who had proposed you as a candidate and helped you prepare for the role while you were still in your early twenties. The other candidates had been good, but you were nearly flawless, only taking calculated risks and never letting your emotions rule your decision making. Control over your emotions was something you always excelled in, and it tremendously helped you make strides as an agent during the initial few months and first year. This caused you to rise in rank quite quickly, making you go on more solo missions or accompanying Galahad or Percival whenever they needed assistance. Today, you’re helping your uncle instead, hacking into some cameras and security networks so he’ll be able to tell Lancelot and Galahad where to go next and what they should be looking out for. It’s something you do from time to time, mostly upon Merlin’s request when he finds the mission too complicated to oversee on his own.

‘The main control room should be south from where they are now.’ You pull up the map on the big screen which hangs in front of you and Merlin, pointing out where Galahad and Lancelot should be going next. As he’s relaying the information to the other men, you hack into the mainframe the criminal organisation and start going through the different files. ‘Any updates about the nuclear files?’ Galahad’s voice comes through the speakers and Merlin looks at you. ‘Working on it. Just focus on getting to that room.’ The screen in front of you shows Lancelot’s feed. He’s following Galahad through the many hallways and twists and turns they take, taking down guards whenever they come across them. Their moves are deliberate, quick and efficient. You turn back to your screen and after a few minutes you’re finally able to access the file Galahad had asked for. ‘I’m sending you the file now, Galahad.’ ‘Thanks Tristan.’ He replies. They have finally reached the door to the control room. Lancelot holds his watch against it and it opens. Silently, the two men enter the room. ‘Lancelot, I need you to connect us to the controls.’ Merlin states and the other man follows the order. Your screens fill with the necessary information and you start working on fully disarming and disabling  the system. ‘Galahad, please flip the green switch on your right.’ You request. Before he can really do so, a loud bang interrupts him, followed by the sound of shots. ‘Lancelot, you take those men while Galahad follows Tristan’s orders.’ Merlin’s Scottish accent seems thicker momentarily. You’ve noticed it only really happened when he was in more stressful situations; one time when you almost got kidnapped, it was so thick you could barely understand him despite having a mostly Scottish family. Calmly, you instruct Galahad what buttons to press and switches to flip. After a few minutes of him following your lead as you type away at your computer, you’re done. ‘Galahad. Lancelot. The system has fully been disabled and disarmed. Get back to the jet.’ They start running through the building and Merlin glances at you, giving you a small smile before going back to helping them follow the quickest route out of the building. 

‘You did well, Tristan.’ Merlin ruffles your hair and you smile at him. ‘Thanks. You didn’t do too badly yourself, old man.’ He laughs and lightly punches your arm. ‘I’m not that old, your mother is 10 years older than I am.’ You snort and teasingly say, ‘And you Merlin, are 12 years older than I am.’ After that comment, a comfortable silence settles between you. There were a few more tasks you had to complete before tomorrow, so you decided you would spend the evening and night at the mansion.  About an hour after the mission finished, Merlin leaves, leaving you alone in front of the large screen filled with documents. Quietly, you continue working for a few more hours before you call it a night. You’d finished your side of the report, only needing Galahad and Lancelot for the final few details. You’ll probably ask them about those during the debrief tomorrow afternoon. 

Once you’ve locked your computer and turned off all the lights, you silently walk to the kitchen, where you start making a pot of tea. The room is dark, as you only turned on the light above the stove. A sound from behind you catches your attention. Looking back, you see that your two colleagues have just returned from their mission. ‘Evening gentlemen.’ You greet them. ‘Tristan, good evening.’ Galahad walks up and stands next to you, just as the water starts boiling. ‘Would you like a cup?’ Your hands continue moving, putting in the tea egg to let the leaves steep. He hums in response as he grabs two more cups. ‘Chamomile?’ Galahad quietly asks and you nod. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you while Lancelot leaves the room momentarily to put some of their things away. Once the tea has sufficiently gained colour and flavour, you pour some into the three cups. Grabbing your own, you sit down next to the chair you’d draped your suit jacket over. Harry sits down across from you and puts down Lancelot’s cup next to him. You both quietly drink your tea, your eyes scanning that day’s paper. When you look up, you notice his eyes are trained on you, making you a bit nervous. Before you can say anything, though, Lancelot walks back in and starts talking about their flight back to England and the newest Royal scandal of the week. The other man’s attention shifts to his colleague who is talking excitedly. Your eyes scan Galahad’s features. He is handsome, smart, quick-witted, and a gentleman. A combination which has led you to, over time, develop a bit of a crush on your colleague. 

‘Tristan, what do you think?’

You turn your head to face the other man. ‘I think the situation escalated unnecessarily, had the royal family handled it properly, this would’ve never become public.’ He smiles and Galahad interjects. ‘I agree with Tristan, this situation could have easily been avoided.’ The two men continue talking and you sip your tea.  ‘Gentlemen, I’m heading off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the debrief.’ You stand up and put your cup into the dishwasher. It was already 11 o’clock. ‘Tristan,’ Galahad stands up, ‘if you’ll allow me, I’ll walk you back to your room.’ Smiling, you nod. ‘Of course Galahad; thank you.’ He leaves the room with you and as you walk, he leans sideways in your direction and whispers. ‘Thanks Tristan. I was a bit tired of Lancelot talking. He’s been going without pause from the moment we got on the jet.’ It didn’t surprise you in the least. ‘Of course Galahad. Lancelot tends to talk quite a lot; I suspect his favourite sound may be his own voice.’ He snorts. ‘I suspect you might be correct.’ The hallways are silent except for your quiet footsteps and conversation. The distance between the two of you seems to become smaller as you continue walking and talking; until you stop in front of your door. ‘Galahad, thank you for accompanying me.’ You turn to face him and smile. ‘Of course Tristan, it was my pleasure.’ His voice was quiet. The silence between you is tense and Harry seems to slowly be leaning closer as he holds your eye contact. Moments, which feel like hours pass, but he doesn’t make a move. Your noses almost touch when he seems to snap out of a sort of trance and clears his throat, pulling back quickly. ‘Ah Tristan, I should get going. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ As he walks away, you stand frozen in your doorway.

The following morning you watch the sunrise outside, a hot cup of coffee in your hand. It seems no one else is up yet. You’ve left your suit jacket in your room and have your sleeves rolled up, the crisp air touching your form. Behind you, you hear your dog walking and sniffing around. ‘Ares.’ The Doberman walks to your side. ‘Want to go for a walk?’ He barks and you pet him behind his ears. ‘Let’s go.’ You smile and he runs into the field in front of you, with you following calmly. Upon your return, you’re greeted by Merlin, who looks to have woken up not too long ago. ‘Morning Tristan.’ Ares excitedly runs up to the Scot. ‘Morning to you too Ares.’ He puts down his coffee and pets the dog with both his hands. ‘You’ve got an awful lot of energy today, haven’t you?’ ‘He really does, he’s been running around for over an hour already.’ You laugh. ‘I’ll bring Albion to play with him later today.’ He takes a sip of his coffee. ‘I’ll be back momentarily, can you watch Ares for a second?’ He nods. ‘Thanks.’ you say and smile at him. You walk into the kitchen through the open doors. Putting down your cup, you start brewing another cup of coffee. The kitchen is still quiet, but you know that more of the agents that have stayed the night will probably start walking in soon, though it probably won’t be many. Lancelot and Galahad you knew for sure, others you weren’t too certain about. ‘Morning Lancelot.’ You say as you hear the man walk in. ‘Agent Tristan.’ He greets. ‘Want some coffee?’ ‘Yes please.’ The smell of another fresh coffee fills the air. You smile as you hand him a cup. ‘You feeling alright?’ ‘I will once I finish this.’He groans before the two of you clink your cups. ‘See you at the briefing in an hour.’ 

You spent that hour with Merlin and Ares, mostly in silence. The Doberman is as happy as can be, with the Scot and you taking turns throwing a ball into the field and having the dog return it. It was nice spending time with your uncle like this. Usually you have to be  quite serious around him, as you mostly speak to him here, at Kingsman. Now, you can, even if it’s just for a moment, relax and have the relationship you used to have when you were younger and neither of you were a part of the secret service. ‘Uncle Hamish, we should probably get ready for the briefing.’ You say as Ares runs into the distance. He has his eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the morning sun. ‘Just five more minutes; Galahad will be late anyway, he seemed a bit off yesterday evening when I saw him.’ That last comment piques your interest, but you decide not to pry. The meeting room was still empty when you walked into it with your uncle. A few minutes pass before, you are joined by Lancelot, who is, once again, talking excitedly. While you don’t necessarily have the energy for him, you stay professional and listen with intent. He is still talking your ears off when Galahad finally arrives, about five minutes late. Despite Merlin having made a comment, it is still quite unusual for him to be late. 

‘Glad you could join us, Agent Galahad.’ Merlin calls out from the far end of the room as the other man enters. ‘Terribly sorry for my tardiness.’ Harry excuses himself. ‘Morning Galahad.’ Lancelot greets him, instead you just wave at the agent. Everyone sits in their usual spots, with Galahad across from you and Merlin to your left, though he almost immediately stands up, walking in front of the screen which shows the most vital information related to the mission. Most of the information isn’t new to you, as you’d helped your uncle prepare. Whenever Galahad or Lancelot give additional information, which you hadn’t been able to gain before the meeting, you write it down into the report. Your attention is fully focussed on what everyone is saying, that is until you notice that Galahad’s eyes seem to linger on you a bit longer than usual whenever you make a comment. Eventually, his eyes meet yours. He quickly looks away and focuses on Merlin, who is saying something about the risks which may occur in the future. Yesterday’s mission has likely only slowed down the organisation, meaning that you’d still have to find its core and try to eliminate it. Still, all the new information which has been gained is quite useful. Your gaze reverts back to your laptop screen as you continue typing away. 

‘Agent Tristan, could you please explain to these gentlemen what you did to fully disarm and disable the system?’ Merlin’s sudden attention to you surprises you, but you stand up confidently and walk to his side. Galahad’s eyes seem to burn into the back of your head as you do so. ‘So how we did it is -’ Everything goes smoothly as you explain the process thoroughly to the other agents. Hopefully, you’ll be able to join them in the field next time, rather than having to sit and watch from the sidelines to assist them from a distance. You aren’t sure that’ll actually happen however, as it really depends on what kind of mission it’ll be and what is needed of you.  After a few minutes, you’re able to sit back down. Neither Lancelot, nor Galahad had any questions, which you assume is probably a good sign. There are only a few more things you need to discuss, with most of them only requiring only a little of your input from time to time, so you silently drink some tea as Lancelot and Merlin talk. Galahad is remarkably silent, only asking a few questions or making comments when he deems it necessary. Usually, he’s more talkative and tends to lead the conversation, but today he seems to have chosen to leave that to Lancelot. As your uncle is saying something about the implications of such an organisation having access to nuclear weapons, you feel another foot hit yours. At first, you ignore it; but when it happens again, you look around. It couldn’t be Merlin or Lancelot, leaving Galahad as the only suspect. You quickly look at his face but he acts as if he’s innocent. When you feel a third tap, you let your eyes meet his. The lines around his eyes crinkle mischievously, while the rest of his face doesn’t seem to change. You tap him back, your oxfords hitting the side of his silently. This time, his eyes do not divert to Merlin or Lancelot, and it almost feels as if you’re the only person in this room with him. The feeling is short lived however, with his gaze shifting away when his name is mentioned by one of the other men. Still, his foot remains in place, connecting the two of you. Despite the intimate gesture, his feelings for you remain unclear.

The meeting comes to an end, you and Galahad act as if nothing happened when you stand up. Everyone leaves the room and as he passes you, he slips a small folded note into your hand. You do not get a chance to read it though, as Merlin immediately starts up a conversation with you as you walk the wing of the mansion where the individual kingsman offices are located. ‘Tristan, could you send me the report after lunch?’ You nod. ‘As long as we’re going on a walk with Ares and Albion after, you know he’s missed you lately, and this morning wasn’t enough to make up for that.’ He laughs. ‘Of course.’ Together, you walk into Merlin’s office, where you quickly discuss the last few details before you leave for your own. There, you work on the report for a bit longer, adding the finishing touches before sending it to Merlin. Ares lays in the corner of your office, playing with one of his toys quietly. The folded piece of paper sits next to your keyboard, still not read. Once you’ve finally finished the report, you grab and slowly unfold it. Galahad’s handwriting is neat, but not delicate.

Tristan,

Meet me in the library at 21:00 tonight. 

Yours faithfully,

H

‘I suppose I’ll go read in the library tonight, Ares.’ You whisper before you put the note into your drawer and motion your dog to follow you to the kitchens to have lunch. He walks at your side when you enter, and calmly waits as you brew tea and make lunch. Once it’s ready, you decide to eat it outside, as the weather is quite nice today and Ares will be able to run around before you go for the walk with Merlin.  Half an hour passes before you’re joined by your uncle, who has his dog, Albion, with him. She’s a border collie who is usually quite serious and focused, but gets very excited when she gets to play with Ares. The two of them are best friends, so you and Merlin try to have them meet up and go on a long walk at least once a week. This doesn’t always happen though, as duty calls whenever it does, resulting in having to cancel quite frequently, which happened the past few weeks. Today isn't such a day though, and once you both finish your lunch, the four of you start walking your usual round around the grounds. You and Merlin chat away about anything and everything while Ares and Albion run around together and fetch a tennis ball from time to time. It’s calm and you’re enjoying yourself. It’s always quite nice to spend your time like this. All nice things must come to an end though, and after forty-five minutes of walking, you have to return to work.  ‘See you later Tristan.’ Merlin says before walking to his office, taking Albion with him. ‘Later.’ You wave before walking in the opposite direction. Galahad hadn’t been there when you returned from your walk, so you assume he’s at the shop to get a few things in order. It’s probably for the better, as you aren’t sure what you would do if you were to cross him in the hallway right now. He’s constantly giving you mixed signals. Yesterday, he seemed to lean in to kiss you before pulling away suddenly. Today, he almost continuously avoided your gaze, yet wanted to stay connected in some way that wasn’t visible to others, and he wrote you a note telling you to meet him later.

‘Fuck.’

You whisper to yourself. You’re falling for him, hard. You have been for a long time. You always told yourself it was merely a crush, but you’re unable to deny it any longer. This revelation isn’t your biggest problem though. Your biggest problem is whether he would even be interested, as he’s constantly giving those mixed signals. Tonight you’d decide whether you’ll ever act upon your feelings or not. You’d never particularly cared for the kingsman code which prohibits any relationships, though it hasn’t been necessary for you to break it either, as you hadn’t been interested in any relationships in the first place. Kingsman always comes first in your life. This means that you’ve never actually taken the time to think of finding a partner or date around. What you are worried about, is that Galahad is someone that always follows the rules and doesn’t even think about bending, let alone breaking, them. This may be an explanation for him being so hot and cold with you. Still, it’s confusing and worries you. ‘Good afternoon agent Tristan, is everything alright?’ Arthur greeting you pulls you out of your thoughts and you realise you’re standing in front of the door which leads into your office, your hand on the doorknob. You have probably been standing there for a couple of minutes now. Quickly you turn the knob and start walking in.  ‘Ah yes Arthur, I was just lost in thought. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some paperwork to attend to.’  You smile at him before swiftly closing the door once Ares has entered the room as well. 

The evening couldn’t come soon enough. Thinking of whatever Galahad could possibly tell you continued racing through your mind the entire afternoon, meaning that you were quite distracted for the most part. Merlin visited you shortly before dinner to discuss the report and what he altered before sending it off to Arthur. While he clearly noticed that you were distracted, he decided against saying anything about it and left. Shortly thereafter, you decided it’d be a good idea to go for another walk with Ares, as it’s a good way of distancing yourself from the setting in which you usually see Galahad. This time, though, the walk lasts for several hours, with the sun starting to set once you start heading back to HQ.  When you arrive back at HQ, it’s nearly nine, so you decide to bring the Doberman to your office before heading to the library. Galahad, or Harry which you rarely ever refer to him as, is already there, waiting for you. He turns to face you and smiles when you enter before greeting you. ‘I’m glad you could make it agent Tristan.’ You nod nervously but try to sound casual. ‘Of course, any time, Galahad.’ His eyes look over your form and you do the same. The tension between the two of you is palpable but you try to ignore it as best as you can. For a moment, nothing happens. The both of you stay still, frozen in place.  Suddenly Galahad moves again and walks up to you. In a moment of passion, he grabs your face and kisses you deeply. It’s so intense it feels as if he’s bruising your lips. When you don’t move, he starts pulling back. Quickly, you pull him to you once more and kiss back, one of your hands in his hair and the other pulling his tie. The two of you fight for dominance and he pushes you against one of the bookshelves, his left hand now resting on your hip.  Eventually, he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed. For minutes, the two of you stand like this, silently enjoying each other's presence and closeness. ‘Tristan.’ He whispers. ‘Yes Galahad?’ The man sighs and slowly leaves your embrace. ‘Shit.’ You hear him mutter under his breath. ‘Shit shit shit.’ He backs away, as if he’s only just realised what happened. ‘Galahad, what’s going on?’ ‘I cannot do this Tristan.’ His voice sounds almost desperate. ‘Galahad, what do you mean you cannot do this?’ He doesn’t reply and walks away, leaving you alone in the library.

You didn’t see Galahad the rest of that week and you threw yourself into work, only leaving your office to go out with Ares. If you hadn’t had him, you probably wouldn’t have left your office in the first place. That Friday morning, Merlin comes in unannounced and finds you sleeping with your head on your desk. He wakes you and you slowly sit up straight. Your suit jacket is discarded somewhere in a corner and you look a bit of a mess with your hair all dishevelled.  ‘Are you sure you’re feeling alright Tristan? You really shouldn’t be overworking yourself.’ Your uncle asks you, he sounds quite worried. ‘I’m fine Merlin, I promise.’ He sighs. ‘You do not look or act as if you’re fine. What’s going on?’ You just shake your head. ‘It’s nothing really, I’ve just had to catch up on some work. Please don’t fret it.’  ‘We both know that’s a lie, Tristan. You’re always ahead of everyone when it comes to paperwork.’ He stops for a moment. ‘Look, both you and Galahad have been acting off all week and we can’t have that. I don’t know if there’s anything going on between the two of you, but I want you to fix it, especially if it’s affecting you like this.’ His voice is stern. ‘You should go talk to Galahad then, I’m not the guilty one here.’ You stand up for the first time in what feels like years, your knees and back hurting with every move. ‘I don’t have the energy for all this, go talk to him if you want to know more.’ Silently, you usher him out of your office and shut the door behind him. While you love your uncle, you really couldn’t deal with this right now.

The scotch in the corner of your office had been a little too appealing. That combined with the very limited amount of food you’d had over the past few days, made it very easy for you to become drunk. You sit in your chair feeling very sorry for yourself, as you do in such situations. ‘You know Ares, I’ll go talk to that asshole. He kisses me like that and then he avoids me all week. I suppose that’s not very gentlemanly of him.’ Standing up, you feel dizzy and you have to grab a hold of your desk to keep standing. The world seems to be turning and Ares looks to have multiple heads. ‘Fuck.’ You hadn’t realised how badly the scotch had affected you. Still, that didn’t stop you, and you stumble through your office door. The hallway is empty when you enter it, as is usual at this time of night in HQ. Galahad’s office is only a few doors down and you try to walk there as normally as you can. Taking a deep breath, you knock multiple times. When there’s no immediate answer, you knock again, but more loudly. ‘Galahad, I know you’re in there.’ Your voice is loud enough for him to hear on the other side of the door, but not loud enough to wake any of the other kingsmen. Though they probably wouldn’t wake up unless you screamed loudly enough for it to reach the other side of the estate. Moments pass, but the door is eventually opened by the agent. ‘Tristan.’ He greets you solemnly. ‘I need to talk to you, you pretentious asshole.’ The words fall out of your mouth and there is no stopping them. ‘You are no gentleman. You invite someone to talk to them alone after MONTHS, LITERAL MONTHS, of looking at each other longingly and flirting, then kiss them in the way you did and JUST WALK AWAY LIKE THAT?????’ He finally looks up at you and realises the state that you’re in. ‘WHAT IN THE HELLS IS WRONG WITH YOU INCOMPETENT PRICK????’ You jab your finger into his chest. ‘Tristan, you are in no state to discuss this, please go to bed.’ He grabs your hand. ‘YES I AM, I AM A GROWN ADULT THAT CAN MAKE THEIR OWN DECISIONS. YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER.’ ‘Yes you are, but you’re currently incapable of making any good decisions. So, please quiet down before you wake up Mr. Pickle.’ Before you’re able to respond, he grabs you and surprisingly easily throws you over his shoulder. ‘Now, I’ll be escorting you to bed, as you don’t seem to be capable of doing that yourself.’ He completely ignores your protests, which continue for about five minutes before you realise there’s nothing you can do about this situation. He only puts you down when you’re in front of your bedroom door, as he needs you to open it. ‘I’m going to put you down, but please stay quiet. I don’t want you to wake everyone up.’ You nod and mutter to yourself as he puts you down. ‘Still an asshole though.’ He laughs to himself. When you finally have both your feet on the ground again, you’re stable momentarily before you start falling over again. Galahad notices and steadies you by grabbing your shoulders. ‘Careful now, sweetness.’ His lips touch the shell of your ear and you slowly feel yourself going red. You ignore it though, steadying yourself with his help before walking to your door and unlocking it. When you try to open it you almost fall into your own room and so Harry catches you, before the world around you slowly goes dark.

The following morning you wake up in your own bed, not remembering how you got there in the first place. Ares sits next to your bed, looking up at you as you wake. ‘Morning, my boy.’ Your voice sounds more like a groan than anything else. He nudges your arm and softly barks when you eventually sit up. The light hurts your eyes as you look around, so you close your eyes and lay back down. Once you finally open them again, you notice that there’s a glass of water and a pack of paracetamol next to your bed. ‘Who put that there?’ You look at Ares and pet him before taking one of the pills followed by a gulp of water. The headache you have is slowly driving you insane, so hopefully this’ll help. Still, it remains unclear who actually put it there after probably finding you in quite the state. Usually, you could easily hold your liquor, but apparently your body had other plans yesterday. You do realise that you’re still in your clothes from the day before. So, you decide to get out of them and put on something more comfortable before calling Merlin. ‘Morning Merlin.’ Your voice is quite hoarse. ‘Ah Tristan, I was wondering when you’d call.’ He sounds quite amused for some unknown reason. ‘What do you mean?’ The Scot laughs. ‘Well, I got a notification earlier this morning that you’d be out of the office today because you’re ill. Thing is, agent Galahad is the one who notified me, which is a bit odd to be honest.’ You groan. ‘Well he’s right about me not feeling well.’ Slowly, you lay back in your bed.  Merlin didn’t talk to you for much longer after that and he remained quite vague about what Galahad had told him about the night before. Despite you desperately wanting to know what had happened the night before, you decided that would be a problem for tomorrow before heading back to sleep.

That night, a knock wakes you from your slumber. You almost jump out of your bed at the sound, scaring Ares a bit. ‘One moment please.’ You shout at the person behind the door before calming your dog. ‘I should take you out for a walk in a few, shouldn’t I? I’m so sorry Ares.’ After whispering that, you stand up and walk to your door. Opening it slowly, you reveal Merlin’s form. ‘Good evening Tristan.’ He smiles. ‘Thought I’d bring you some dinner.’ The tray he’s holding has a plate with a baked potato, some carrots and broccoli, and some beef, accompanied by a large glass of water and a cup of your favourite tea. He walks in once you’ve further opened your door, putting the tray on the small table that stands in the corner of your room. ‘Do sit down.’ His voice is soft. You do so silently, Ares laying down next to you. ‘Thank you.’ Your voice is soft and you start eating your first meal of the day. Merlin sits down across from you. ‘I do hope this was a one time thing, Tristan.’ He sighs and takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand. ‘It won’t happen again, sir.’ Your voice can barely be heard from across the table. ‘Look, you’ve been doing flawlessly so far, so getting drunk and insulting go Galahad isn’t something that’ll affect you or your career in any way. It can, however, have an effect on how well you’re able to work with him in the foreseeable future.’ Your eyes don’t meet his. ‘Now that I’ve scolded you for getting drunk and acting in the way you did, I would like to know why. Harry hasn’t wanted to tell me anything and I’m against just checking your glasses if I can ask you.’ Your plate is only half finished but you’re already full and you put down your cutlery. ‘I’m not sure you want to know.’ Leaning back, you make yourself more comfortable in your chair. ‘Galahad has really said nothing?’ He shakes his head. ‘Well then, I suppose I’ll tell you what’s going on; under the condition that this will strictly stay between the two of us. Not even Galahad can know.’  ‘Why are you being so secretive about this?’ He enquires. ‘You’ll understand once you hear the full story. Now do you promise?’ You hold out your hand with your pinky ready for him to intertwine with. And he does. ‘I promise.’ A smile creeps onto  your face. This is something you’d always done with him when it comes to promises, starting when you were just a little kid. ‘So, as you may have noticed the past few weeks, there’s been some tension between me and Galahad, or Harry.’  You start. ‘But this has been an underlying issue for years now -‘ 

That night Merlin listened as you talked about how the situation between you and Galahad had unfolded over the past few years and more in detail about the past week or two. Understandably, it was quite a bit for him to take in, and at first he wasn’t certain how to feel or respond. If you hadn’t been who you are to him, he would’ve been fine with it. But with the familial ties you have, and the fact that he and Galahad are best friends, made him hesitate. Yet, he promises to keep quiet and have you and the other man resolve it by yourselves. He would, however, urge his friend to do so if the issue isn’t resolved within a week, meaning that you’ll have to hurry up when it comes to talking things out. He did make clear that he isn’t against you having a relationship with the older man, his tone may have even been slightly supportive, which was somewhat unexpected.

The next time you finally see Harry it’s Sunday. Exactly three days since you’d last seen him and had had the drunken encounter. There you stood, in front of his apartment, your heart pounding in your throat. He’d been at the shop the past few days while you were at the mansion. Merlin was quite convinced that Galahad was, in fact, avoiding you, so he’d suggested you go visit him that evening. Well, suggested was quite a loose term in this case. It was more that Merlin just dropped you off here and told you to ‘Go ahead and talk it out’. Obviously, this was his way of forcing you to do so, as he is quite sick of having the two of you avoiding each other.

Finally, you ring the doorbell and you stand there waiting nervously for Galahad to answer. He does after a few minutes and the confusion is quite evident on his face. When he doesn’t say anything, you start talking. ‘Sorry to bother you Galahad, but Merlin’s dropped me off so we can talk things out.’ You smile sheepishly and he sighs before letting you in.  You have never been inside his home before, so you look around curiously as he leads you into his kitchen. He was wearing his usual attire, save for the glasses. Apparently, he had been cooking dinner when you rang his doorbell. As you look around the room, not moving, he clears his throat. ‘Would you like to join me for dinner Tristan?’ The question is logical, yet you aren’t certain whether he actually wants you to join or if he’s asking it out of obligation. You’re hoping it’s the former rather than the latter. ‘If you don’t mind. Otherwise we can talk and then I’ll leave, I don’t wish to intrude Galahad.’ He motions you to sit down. ‘I would love for you to join me, I’m almost finished cooking dinner anyway, so do feel free to have a seat.’ When you do so, he turns around to face the stove once again before finishing dinner. It is a simple yet delicious meal, and you appreciate the gesture of him inviting you to join him. It is mostly spent in silence, save for a few comments appreciating his skill, or talking about the goings on at the shop and HQ. 

After dinner, Harry offers you a cup of tea before pouring one for himself and sitting down across from you. It is silent for a few minutes before he finally speaks again. ‘I would like to apologise.’ His voice is soft. ‘I should’ve handled this situation differently and not have run away in the way I did.’ As he says this, his eyes divert. ‘It is just that I was, and still am, quite uncertain of how to go about this. I do not wish to hurt you, but in my attempt to do so I did the opposite of what I had intended. I thought you were too pure, too kind. You’re too sweet, too sweet for a bitter man like me. Yet here I am, madly in love with you and confessing my feelings.’ When he finishes talking he looks you in the eye once more. There’s emotion in them, seemingly a mix of sadness and regret. ‘Galahad, I don’t know what to say.’ You pause. ‘I understand why you may have hesitated to approach me in the way you did, however, I am quite confused as to why you ran away so suddenly. You are the one that made the initial move and I never approached you because you were likely to have reservations about breaking kingsman code, yet you gave me hope by inviting me to the library to talk. And for a moment, when you kissed me, I thought we could be together, even if it was just for a moment.’ Slowly, you stand up from your chair. Putting down your cup of tea in the process. ‘Then you went ahead and ripped my heart out by walking away like that. As if I mean nothing to you, as if you weren’t the one that made the first move.’ You raise your voice a bit, but try to stay calm. Following your example, he stands up as well and starts walking towards you. ‘I truly am sorry but it is up to you whether or not you forgive me.’ He looks down into your eyes. ‘What will happen if I forgive you, Harry?’ The two of you are almost touching each other, only a few centimetres between your faces. ‘I shall take you on a date and be your partner. That is, if you’ll have me.’ Rather than answering him with words, you pull his tie and kiss him passionately.

[geminirum]

HAN AND LEIA: because no matter how much he might love her– no matter how much he might give himself to her– she could never be content with that alone. her vision extended beyond him, just as it extended beyond herself, to all the beings of the galaxy. and to take that away from her, whether by force or even by persuasion, would be to diminish her soul. and to take away part of what he'd fallen in love with in the first place" – dark force rising, timothy zahn (1992)

1. the empire strikes back (1980) // 2. the 1, taylor swift (folklore, 2020) // 3. the princess and the scoundrel, beth revis (2022) // 4. the lovers, artist unknown // 5. the great war, taylor swift (midnights, 2022) // 6. the empire strikes back (1980) & inkpot gods, the amazing devil (2021) // 7. euripides, from ‘orestes,’ an oresteia (2009, trans. anne carson) // 8. the empire strikes back (1980) // 9. the empire strikes back (1980) // 10. hands, artist unknown // 11. han solo (2016, issue #5), marvel comics // 12. as it was, harry styles (harry’s house, 2022) // 13. return of the jedi (1983) // 14. existence, by ambsthom (na.) // 15. the force awakens (2015) // 16. mastermind, taylor swift (midnights, 2022) // 17. a new hope (1977) // 18. return of the jedi (1983) // 19. heidi priebe, as long as there is love, there will be grief // the last jedi (2017) // 20. the empire strikes back (1980) // 21. haunted, taylor swift (speak now tv, 2023) // 22. the empire strikes back (1980) // 23. quote 1: sue zhao, dialogues on love #4 ‘maybe i already do (na.) // quote 2: virginia woolf, from a letter to katherine mansfield c. January 1921 // quote 3: trista mateer (na.) // 24. watchful eyes, artist unknown // 25. the empire strikes back (1980) // 26. cruel summer, taylor swift (lover, 2019) // 27. the empire strikes back (1980) // 28. the empire strikes back (1980) // 29. sarah ruhl, from eurydice (2003) // 30. return of the jedi (1983) - if you know any of the artists, please let me know so i can credit them accordingly!!

my contribution to the @hanleiacelebration week! i made a similar ‘webweaving’ (if you will) post showing the twins’ relationship. i’ll link that here!

if you liked this, please consider reblogging and commenting, it really helps the algorithm :)

[cadaverre]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ the swords are drawn, they really are

JUNO ☆ they/them (i dont mind she/her) ☆ minor (xv) ☆ bisexual ☆ cancer sun, libra moon, sag rising ☆ intp-t ☆ aus ☆ either a celestial god or a pebble ☆ anxious mess ☆ i change my theme way too much ☆ sparkling water > regular water ☆ in love with piercings and wants all of them ☆ professional procrastinator ☆ a humanities/arts/music girl in a science/maths world ☆ dont know much abt society but i know i hate capitalism ☆ wouldnt survive a day without spotify ☆ free palestine!! ☆

LOVES ⭑.ᐟ - literature, the arts, queer culture, astronomy + astrology, witchcraft, feminism (no terfs allowed!!!!), cold drinks, miniskirts, doc martens, dark red, nail polish, mascara, lipgloss, brie (always dreaming of cheese), pinterest, spotify, my headphones, the ocean, my grandparents house, spring+winter, fiddling around on the guitar, fantasising about being a famous musician, finding new music, snow, going to concerts, psychology, web weaving, learning languages (currently learning spanish and i want to learn latin!)

BOOKS ⭑.ᐟ - osemanverse, the hunger games, books by rhiannon wilde, tim te maro's subterranean heartsick blues, all the best liars, books by octavia butler (specifically parable of the sower and parable of the talents), the last true poets of the sea, acotar, the weight of the stars, the seven husbands of evelyn hugo, the picture of dorian grey, house of hollow, howls moving castle, harry potter (mainly marauders, FUCK JKR), i kissed shara wheeler, red white and royal blue, song of achilles, wings of fire, the secret history, crime and punishment

MOVIES + SHOWS ⭑.ᐟ - juno, dont look up, little women (2019), scream (i like most of them but 1996 is my fav by far), ladybird, barbie (2023), some of the mcu (thor and guardians of the galaxy <33), spiderverse (itsv is my love), gilmore girls, stranger things, loki, heartstopper, arcane, scott pilgrim takes off + scott pilgrim vs the world, mean girls (i love both hehe), dr who, percy jackson (the show, i um havent read the books), gossip girls, do revenge, my little pony, the bear, hannibal, we are lady parts, bottoms

MUSIC ⭑.ᐟ - boygenius + solos, taylor swift, glaive, brakence, paramore, ricky jamaraz, melanie martinez, lana del rey, ashnikko, girl in red, billie eilish, doja cat, big thief, adrianne lenker, ethel cain, mitski, remi wolf, cigarettes after sex, ericdoa, tv girl, clairo, the neighbourhood, bon iver, deftones, maneskin, courtney barnett, poppy, the smiths, american football, susannah joffe, renee rapp, mcr, the front bottoms, pierce the veil, gracie abrams, feeble little horse, esha tewari, radiohead, chappell roan, charli xcx

ALBUMS ⭑.ᐟ - the record, 1989 tv, around the fur, riot, three cheers for sweet revenge, all we know is falling, hypochondriac, girl with fish, doa, things with wings, punk2, songs, masterpiece, guts, lust for life, dykttatuob, punisher, stranger in the alps, i care so much that i dont care at all, collide with the sky, manic, badlands, folklore, trafoamp, k-12, crybaby, portals, this is why, ttpd + the anthology, hit me hard and soft, the bends, brat, the secret of us, home video

TALK TO ME ⭑.ᐟ - asks and dms are open for chatting/venting/whatever, i might take a while to respond ☆ i rarely follow people without an intro post/descriptive bio (with name, age group and pronouns especially) ☆ discord is astraeasparrow ☆ i dont currently have any trigger warnings tagged but just send me an ask/dm if you want me to tag something specific!! ☆dni: people who are: rude, racist, homophobic, transphobic, zionist, terfs, sexist, ableist, antisemitic

TAGS ⭑.ᐟ

#juno.txt -> ramblings, original posts

#asks -> asks ive answered

#ask bait -> send me asks!

#tag games -> tag games ive participated in

#beautiful mutuals -> interactions with my beautiful mutuals !

#spotify -> my music obsession

#junocore -> posts that are so incredibly mecore

#🩻 -> posts abt/for my fav

(im working on a better taglist with my moots tags)

SOCIALS ⭑.ᐟ pinterest ☆spotify ☆ carrd ☆ pronoun page ☆ letterboxd ☆ stats.fm

SIDEBLOGS ⭑.ᐟ @likeasugarcubeinateacup (notes app poetry) -- @sirenliight (short poetry + aesthetics) -- a close friends blog (you can ask for the url, i might say no) (im not that active on them though)

NOTES/UPDATES ⭑.ᐟ

☆ prev urls — astraeasparrow -> gu1lty-as-sin -> glcive

☆ last updated: july 10th 2024

☆ dividers by @plutism

thats all!! stay hydrated and have a wonderful day/night everyone <3

[latibvles]

a kiss to prove you don’t have feelings for them

For Willie and Brady? If you could.

I love them and want nothing but happiness for them…, but also I’m a sucker for angsty steamy scenes.

A KISS CAN JUST BE A KISS.

hi anon friend! as much as i would really love to try and work this into mainverse ( because im evil and love giving them problems ) Brady is . unfortunately (?) extremely aware of his own feelings as is the entire 100th except for Willie for a little while. you know who isn't as aware of his painfully obvious crush on Willie? Slightly Dumb College Frat Boy Brady. So this ended up taking a turn into Frat Boy AU. I hope you don't mind! I did have fun writing this ♡ I had to make an entire side character because I cannot for the life of me imagine one of Brady's own friends instigating this heavily in his love life

—

The house was busy — but with the October chill setting in, the backyard was a bit quieter. Still, they’d made a run for firewood today in anticipation, which was a good call on Jack’s part. It’s a welcome warmth, putting up an effortless fight against the chilly air, and they’re sitting all around it. Them, being himself, Willie to his left and Benny to his right, and then a couple others: some of the people here, he’s only just learned the names of.

Helen was a hospitality major, but he knew her boyfriend, Nash. He and Rosie were pledges living at the dorm, and the latter had an English class with Harry last semester. Her friend Tatty sat to the right of her, next to some guy he didn’t know all that well, but presumably went to school with (he’s pretty sure it’s Charlie), and the girl next to him, he recognized from a previous party, was Naomi. He’d also caught Dougie slipping her out of his room the next day — and she’d just smiled and waved at him as he groggily padded his way into the kitchen for a bowl of cereal.

“Alright Benny, your turn, truth or dare?”

The game was Naomi’s idea. John was just fine sitting there, leaned over and talking to Willie about nonspecific things. Since that first party they’d formed something of a friendship: formed mostly through iMessage games and playlist exchanges. Once he’d started seeing her he couldn’t really stop — whether that was on campus or at a house party, or her taking a cat nap in his room while he studied. Not that he minded. He liked talking to her, liked making her laugh, indulging in her comfortable silences. But Benny agreed and so he ended up doing so, and then Willie, too.

“Dare.” Really, it was less like truth or dare and more like Truth, Dare, or Drink. Benny’s lips curl in a smile as Charlie hums, running his finger over his lips.

“Kiss the least attractive person in the circle.”

“Yeesh, trying to get me in trouble, are you?” Benny leans back, eyes darting around the circle and Charlie looks smug enough. John watches as Benny’s eyes dart briefly to the door and sneaks a look himself. It’s not hard to spot the blonde he’s eyeing — has been eyeing since the start of the semester — who looks over at them. Or rather, at Benny, John’s pretty sure he may as well be transparent at the moment.

Benny leans back in the chair, finishes off the drink in his solo cup. One of Hambone’s ungodly concoctions that John is pretty sure is just straight up Tito’s with jolly ranchers or something dissolved in there for flavor. He coughs once, twice, then looks at John.

“Sorry. Didn’t want to hurt your feelings there.” John scoffs, with a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah, you’re really breaking my heart over here,” he counters dryly. Benny rises from his lawn chair with a promise to be right back — heading off to get another drink from inside. Willie laughs, quietly, watching him go and John looks her up and down. Viv’s jacket draped over her shoulders and denim-clad legs pulled in, curled up on the lawn chair.

“They’re hopeless,” she remarks quietly, looking back over at him. They smile at one another and John wipes at his nose.

“They’re something, alright.”

Naomi clears her throat, clasping her hands together.

“Right then. John, truth or dare!” 

“Truth.” She blows a raspberry at that, seemingly deflating before perking up again all at once, then takes a look around their circle.

“Ever hooked up with someone in this circle?” She asks, with a glint to her eye that makes John shift in his seat a bit. He shakes his head immediately.

“Can’t say I have.”

“I oughta make you drink for that,” she huffs, and John raises a curious brow. “It’s no fun if you lie.” Naomi isn’t looking at him. She’s looking just to his left, to Willie, and he looks at her too. Her cheeks are flushing and her brows are furrowed in confusion. “Oh don’t give me that look — I heard you spent like an hour in his room last month.”

“I was hiding,” Willie says flatly. “And it was more like twenty minutes.”

“It’s not like that.” John tacks on at the end.

He blames that twisting feeling in his stomach on the alcohol and not the indifference of her statement, how quick she is to say it and how quick he is to tack that part on at the end. Naomi’s eyebrows raise and he doesn’t like the look of it, but she hums out an “Oookay!” and sips from her cup absentmindedly.

The game continues. A couple more rounds. Helen and Charlie end up switching shirts on a dare, Benny returns and snickers about not letting Nash see that. John drinks when Tatty gives him a dare because he’s not sitting in the October cold in his boxers and shirt until his next round. Benny ends up telling the story about how Meatball knocked the door open while Dougie had a girl over and stole his pants. He feels a little warm and makes a note to ask Hambone just what the hell this concoction’s made of.

“Jooooooohn,” Naomi hums, looking at him. “Truth or dare?”

Maybe it’s the mystery drink making him feel a little bolder. He sits up in his chair.

“Dare.” Benny raises his brows in quiet surprise. On the other end of the firepit, Tatty chuckles, sitting criss-cross, or something like it.

Naomi grins. John doubts his choice for a millisecond. And it’s warranted, because she glances from Willie back to him.

“Kiss Willie.” John scoffs.

“What are we, twelve?” He looks to Willie, who just draws her knees closer to her chest. Naomi whines.

“Oh come on. It’s a real easy one, isn’t it?” She leans forward on her knees, and the firelight makes her look like some sinister storyteller. “You said it yourselves. It’s not even like that, so who cares?”

Something about the way she says it outright rubs John the wrong way. He already knows that she isn’t convinced that he and Willie are just friends. It feels like a challenge — and he’s really backed himself into a corner. He can either drink and prove her point, or do the stupid dare and… disprove it. Or prove it. Honestly, he doesn’t even know. He looks again to Willie, who’s expression is unreadable — and he usually really likes her quiet, contemplative silence, but right now he really needs her to say something. Anything.

Willie looks at him and her brows furrow.

“Why’re you staring at me?” She asks. He fights the urge to smack his hand to his forehead.

“Are you fine with this?” he asks, genuinely meaning it. He sees the hesitation flash across her face before she shrugs, unraveling herself and letting her feet hit the grass, hands gripping her knees. She’s staring off, not looking at him, or Naomi, or anything really.

“Sure,” she acquiesces, “Prove your… your point, I guess.” John feels his mouth go dry, and not just from the alcohol. His palms are sweaty and he has to try really hard not to balk at how casual she’s being about the whole thing. Or wonder if he should start taking notes from her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, John,” Willie looks at him and there’s a slight edge to her voice. Insistence, maybe, or something like it. She’s never gotten impatient with him before. “It’s fine.”

John breathes out as she shifts her lawn chair until they’re bumping knees. He nods to himself once. Naomi looks decidedly pleased with herself, and so he shoots her a pointed glare, before turning to look at her. Willie’s already kind of leaning on her knees, looking at him and he can’t tell, even for a moment, how she might actually be feeling about this whole thing. Probably annoyed at John’s voiced protests instead of just getting it over with quick.

John turns, angling himself so he’s leaning towards her, into her space. She’s stiff as a board, her jaw clenched when it first comes into contact with his hand as he reaches for her. He sweeps a thumb over her cheek and it relaxes for a moment. She shuts her eyes and for a second John wonders if she’s bracing for impact or something. Her lashes are long. Dark. Pretty. She’s always pretty.

He’s surrounded by the scent of her; that soft citrusy perfume enveloping him, her dark curls tickling his hand where it’s tilting her jaw up a little. He’s leaning down to kiss her before he can think too hard on it, doubt it. It doesn’t have to be anything. A kiss can just be a kiss.

…right?

He means for it to only be a peck — a barely there bump of their lips. But hers are… soft, warm, they taste like the canned vodka seltzer she’d snuck from their basement fridge as opposed to the watery beer and strange half-assed concoctions they were offering en masse to the other guests.

There is an urge there, to deepen this, to taste and to hold her. A thought that crossed his mind so blatantly once before, when he’d first met her. Otherwise he thought he’d pushed that aside, buried it.

He’s grateful for her friendship. Wants to keep it, because it’s simple and because it was— is, easy to exist with her. Willie’s beautiful and funny and honest with him in a way he appreciates. He doesn’t want to lose that. Fuck it up with feelings that go beyond that — not wanting to demand more of her than what she ever wanted to give him. Her friendship’s precious and he’s lucky to have it; he knows that.

And here he is wanting to pull her into his lap and forget that this is supposed to be a part of a game. Wanting to press his tongue against her teeth.

His heart’s in his throat. A kiss can just be a kiss. He isn’t sure how much he believes that.

Willie breathes out against his lips, a soft, nearly mute “fuck” fanning across his face as they pull away from each other. His entire face feels flushed and he can’t bring himself to move away from the space between them. It was… charged with something. Energy between them that’s just downright impossible to ignore.

John stares at her, hardly moving from the space between them. Her expression’s unreadable for a few moments, holding his gaze with those piercing dark eyes of hers.

Her brows furrow, and she frowns. Willie leans away and turns her head from him.

“I’m… gonna go inside. S’cold,” she breathes out, standing up and walking away from before John can so much as rise with her and ask her to stay. Or ask to go with her.

It’s damning. All of it. The kiss, the way she looked at him, the way she walked away. His heart is sinking into his stomach. He wants to chase after her like some little kid but he somehow knows that that would be his second mistake.

[marketfreshfics]

OC: Paisley Gallos

Basics:

Full name: Paisley November Gallos Nickname: Pais Gender: Female Species: Witch / Vampire Date of birth: December 14th, 1874 Nationality: Spanish-French, born in the Americas Blood status: Muggleborn Wand: Walnut, dragon heartstring, 11”, unyielding

Appearance

Hair colour: Dark brown / mahogany Hairstyle: Short, wavy Eye colour: Hazel Skin tone: Medium Height: 5’2” Body type: Average, slight muscle definition

Clothing style: Functionality takes priority; light-medium, but durable fabrics such as cotton and leather for ease of movement. Prefers more fitted clothing, especially when travelling or exploring outside the castle walls. Fond of worn denim; often wears her brother’s hand-me-down pairs when out of class.

Accessories:

Often carries a harmonica in her back pocket

Her father’s wristwatch, despite it always running a few minutes ahead

Other distinguishing features:

Three diagonal scars on the left side of her jaw (obtained while trying to escape from a vampire)

Two small birthmarks below her bottom lip

Personality

Traits: Intelligent, resourceful, clever, determined, crass, blunt, intuitive, curious, decisive, quick to anger, observant, goal-oriented, remorseful Likes: Early morning hikes, writing in a new notebook, solving problems, the ocean, strong coffee (with two sugar cubes), stargazing, foraging for minerals/rocks Dislikes: Perfume, wet socks, the afternoon sun, formal attire, dishonesty Hobbies: Fishing, metalsmithing (when out of school) Fears: The unknown, her own thirst (once she becomes a vampire)

MBTI: INFJ-A Zodiac: Sagittarius sun, Aquarius moon, Libra rising Temperament: Choleric Archetype: The Rebel Similar characters: Remus Lupin, Albus Dumbledore, Sam Winchester, Harry Callahan, Lisa Simpson, Han Solo, Max Mayfield, Jon Snow

Family/Friends

Father: Pierre - Muggle, Fisherman Mother: Rosalyn - Muggle, Teacher (Died in 1882 from scarlet fever) Sibling(s): Mathieu (age 19) Pet(s): Barred Owl, “Crispen” Friends: Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt, Garreth Weasley, Amit Thakkar, Natsai Onai

Magic

Boggart: Extremely thick fog, accompanied by a foghorn Patronus: Colossal squid Polyjuice: Turns crimson, tastes like spring water and copper Amortentia: Smoke, bergamot and clean, starched cotton Special abilities:

Fire-based offensive spells and charms

Non-verbal magical spells

(Once transformed into a vampire) can sometimes "absorb" a person's abilities after consuming their blood

Backstory

Born in Nova Scotia, Canada to immigrant muggle parents, Paisley grew up in a small fishing village just on the outskirts of a port city. Because of this, she spent many days on fishing vessels with her father and older brother, while her mother worked as a teacher at the schoolhouse in town. When she was eight, her mother fell gravely ill and unfortunately passed away from complications of scarlet fever. Her father, Pierre, often struggled to balance work obligations with raising Paisley and Mathieu, and more often than not her older brother was left responsible, which caused her to develop a great deal of independence.

Being from a non-magical family, Paisley's magic was a startling discovery. It revealed itself when, while arguing with her brother, she made a milk bottle spontaneously explode in frustration. The following morning, two members from the Ministry for Magic arrived, explained magical abilities to her and her family, and promptly enrolled her in the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

She was sorted into the Horned Serpent house, based on her high level of intelligence and ambitious, goal-oriented mindset.

Paisley excelled in her studies, her hunger for knowledge consistent, and while graduating from her fifth year she was recognized for her advanced magical comprehension. She was hand-selected by the Minster for Magic himself to take part in an accelerated graduate program at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and with great excitement she transferred at the start of her sixth year. Having researched the Hogwarts houses before her arrival, she anticipated being sorted into Ravenclaw... however the mysterious rumours about the Slytherin house fostering several dark wizards in history captivated her curiosity, and thus the sorting hat placed her there instead.

Soon after arriving at Hogwarts, she was captured by a well-known criminal, who subsequently bit her and changed her into a vampire against her will. The details around this, and why she was selected specifically, are still unknown...

Academics

Best subject: DADA Favourite subject: Astrology Favourite teachers: Professor Fig, Professor Sharp Worst subject: History of Magic Least favourite subject: Divination, Theory of Magic Least favourite teacher: Binns Quidditch: N/A

As a student:

Prioritizes her studies as much as possible; she is aware of the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to study at Hogwarts and does not take it for granted.

Sometimes misses classes without explanation, particularly on sunny days.

She is always happy to help fellow classmates, however, she is wary of many. This only increases once she has been turned.

Mostly keeps to herself; has few, close friends, with whom she places a great deal of trust.

Future

Career: Researcher or Archivist Naturally, Paisley is drawn to a career path that allows her the opportunity to further her education and learn something new. Her ambitions focus on filling her brain with as much information as possible, so taking up a job as a Researcher or Archivist for the Ministry is very much in her wheelhouse.

Spouse: TBD Children: TBD

Special thanks to @hazyange1s for letting me follow their OC layout 🤍

[twopoppies]

Re your anon about why there are more Louies than Harries amongst Larries. I remember when it shifted cause it’s never been this way. Up until 2016 I would say. Harry was photographed with Jeff ‘during the solo contact signing’ and Freddie being born a view weeks after that. Many Larries saw the stark differences and blamed Harry for it. For getting signed by Azoff when everyone thought the band would be signed by Azoff and come back very soon. And then Harry getting to be MIA and work on his debut album and interviewing Paul McCartney. And louis with the baby and Danielle in LA. They thought Harry has all the freedom making hints and being a solo star and Louis is paying for that freedom and is taking the burden of their closet tenfold. Harry so selfish and Louis is selfless. And that kind of established itself in many Larries minds and many many Harrie Larries left the fandom. So what’s left is an huge amount / majority of Louies in the fandom. Most harries couldn’t take the constant skepticism and double standards re Harry anymore. E.g. Harry being papped = fame hungry, Jeff’s puppet, he’s changed and money hungry. Louis getting papped = smart businessman, fighting against his team to get more exposure, underdog and being sabotaged (stunt pics, pics of him w alcohol) etc. not the best example but yeah haha there’s probably more but that what’s comes to all when I reflect back on the 2017/2017 time hsjsjsjs

Yeah, I think you’re actually very right. That was also the rise of the rad Louies and a few very vocal ex-larries who really did their best to tear Harry down and paint him as the villain who tricked everyone so he could rise to the top. Honestly some of the shit I’ve read from these people is so vile. Anyway, I can’t say that’s definitely why there seem to be so many Louie larries here on Tumblr, but now that you remind me of all of that, I think that period caused a lot of harrie larries to either became solo stans or leave the fandom altogether.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Miriam Hopkins (Design For Living, Trouble in Paradise)—miriam hopkins had great range as an actresses, truly a woman who could play a passionate outburst for either dramatic or comedic effect and sell the ever-loving hell out of it. she's wonderful in the witty and sophisticated comedies she made with ernst lubitsch, great examples of movies that could never have been made after the hays code; the frothy musical comedy the smiling lieutenant where she plays a naive princess who accidentally gets betrothed to maurice chevalier, the polyamory classic design for living where she gary cooper and hot vintage shadow king fredric march are a throuple, and the ineffably exquisite comedic masterpiece trouble in paradise in which she and hubert marshall are sexy jewel thieves trying to con sexy rich lady kay francis, but will emotional complications ensue???? watch to find out!!

Dorothy Dandridge (Carmen Jones, Porgy and Bess, Island in the Sun)— The first Black actress to ever be nominated for best actress, Dorothy Dandridge was a groundbreaking actress who deserved better. She started her career as a singer, being put in a song-and-dance duo with her sister by their stage mother, and singing in soundies (I highly recommend cow cow boogie, it's adorable), proto-music videos. She started appearing as a featured singer in films. Her star was on the rise and she soon became a star solo performer. She continued acting, but had limited options because she refused to do stereotypical roles. She finally landed a starring role in Bright Road in 1953, but it was the movie Carmen Jones that truly cemented her as a star and sex symbol. Not to sound cheesy, but she literally sizzles on screen. You can't help but understand how poor Harry Belafonte gets caught in her trap, just look at her. This is the role that got her that Oscar nom. She didn't win cause I mean #OscarsSoWhite, but she was a sensation and continued starring in films, despite troubles in her life (including a shitty director bf who fucked with her career and a traumatizing pregnancy/delivery). Outside of her filmwork, she was also an activist, fighting against racism. She left behind an amazing legacy, and continues to inspire many actresses to this day (including also very hot first (and only) black woman to win best actress, Halle Berry).

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Miriam Hopkins:

64.media.tumblr.com

She is an incredibly charismatic and versatile actress who brings a certain captivating je ne sais quois to each and every one of her roles that makes her impossible to ignore. Her pre-code films were considered quite risqué, with her part in a thrupple in Design For Living, and some saucy scenes they had to cut from Jekyll and Hyde. She also had a strong career in early television, so good that this queen literally has TWO Hollywood Stars, TWO!! One for TV and one for Film

Also she is Gorgeous, capable of being the girl nextdoor and also a stunning blonde bombshell. She's not as well known as some golden-age Hollywood stars but she's really incredible and I recommend everyone watch her films

In Trouble in Paradise she plays a pickpocket who flirts by stealing from her criminal boyfriend and I fell in love

Linked gifset

She's got this sly slouchy confidence that just draws you in. Almost no one wore 30s fashion as well as her

queen of the pre-code era. often her roles were of carefree, flirty and lighthearted but intelligent women. famously in the movie where she was part of a fredrich march/gary cooper throuple.

We all know that Design for Living is THE pre-code movie and she is so iconic in it. Her eyes are everythingggg. Also everyone look at her in a suit in She Loves Me Not please

A Frequent collaborator of Ernst Lubistch, Miriam Hopkins like up the screen in her comic roles, as is especially sexy in her pre-code performance in Design for Living; probably one of the first movies to showcase a coded polyamorous relationship. She toes the line between adorable and sexy, and had the acting chops to back it all up.

Dorothy Dandridge propaganda:

Beautiful actress and hand-working and talented singer, she's especially notable for the number of firsts she accomplished such as the first African-American woman to receive a nomination for the Academy Award for Best Actress and the first African-American woman to appear on the cover of Life magazine.

Dorothy Dandridge was a classic Hollywood triple threat, singing, dancing, and acting with the best of them. She was the first African American nominated for an academy award for Best Actress for her role in Carmen Jones and she was just jaw-droppingly beautiful.

this og of black film needs no introduction (star on the hollywood walk of fame anyone?), voice of an angel, heavenly features, just an overall stunning lady :)

Look at her!!! She is so unbelievably charismatic in Carmen, it’s insane. Her chemistry with Harry Belafonte is off the charts, and every time she puts another outdoor [sic] on it’s like ‘oh god this is a whole new level of stunning’ 🥵. She was so so talented, when she’s on screen I genuinely dare you to tear your eyes away from her. Deserves to be known so much better but due to Hollywood racism and a tough personal life she didn’t make it as big as she should have done. She’s incredible.

First Black actress to be nominated for the Oscar for Best Actress! Was the first choice for the role of Cleopatra that went to Elizabeth Taylor (we were ROBBED).

[pop-punklouis]

just to make it clear: it isn’t fun and quirky and cute to be a grown ass adult looking at a young person in the music industry and immediately being like “oh i have to be there when they go solo. i have to be part of that. i have to get a piece of that” when they’re simply existing somewhere else at the time. how many people have volunteered these comments about observing harry styles and waiting for him to go solo so they could benefit from it is astronomical, and it is unsettling how their behavior acting like fucking preying animals on a young kid in the industry feels normalized to themselves and others. it’s not normal. sticking around someone because you want a piece of them and their presence later on after they’ve gotten out of a boyband model that is already a hellscape of pressure, careful curation, and demand is not normal. and harry styles has had so many people like this orbit him on his rise— many of them still holding a space in his professional and personal life while bragging about this behavior over him as a young kid. stop thinking it’s cute to be flying buzzards plucking the flesh off someone else like this just because they’re successful, now.

[louisisalarrie]

I can’t believe you didn’t know that niamflopped is zot3! 🥴 You are talking about a certified psychopath !!

Her blogs are 👇🏻

Niamflopped

Zot3-flopped

Glacial-insanity

Thepersian-boy

Marine-styles

Purpletopaz

One-direction-split-up

Harryiconstyles

Put-out-the-dark

Italystyles

Beautiful-harry-styles

And God knows how many more fake blogs that sewer rat is creating every single second.

Notice how all the blogs have something about harry in the url, and if you check, the content is always the same. She uses several blogs so the one she uses the most (zot3) doesn’t get deleted. She uses the side blogs to post screenshots, photos that could be reported. So she won’t risk it with the main one. (Zot3) what a lifeless loser!!! Someone who creates so many diff blogs impersonating other people, needs to be locked into an asylum!! She reblogs herself from those blogs and adds comments as if she’s talking to other harries. This is absolutely disturbing! 💀 block and report that bitch !

I actually heard they are a man in their 50’s from an anon - idk if that’s 110% confirmed but the anon said it was, so don’t wanna start calling out their actual personal attributes but if that’s true… damn.

Thank you for the update on their current blogs. I have most of them blocked but have a feeling they are antagonising me on anon in my inbox, as opposed to actually sending hate now. Just trying to get a rise out of me.

Absolutely delusional and every part of this overall fandom, whether it be ot5s, larries, antis, or solos, have a few very awful and antagonising people that just wanna cause drama. It’s really sad and I hope this doesn’t keep happening - it ruins the fandom for so many folks.

Just takes me back to the 1d days but it was just antis vs larries, really. So it was two sides. Now everyone is in a different corner with a different opinion and it just feels quite shitty.

[iamnmbr3]

you've talke about how you aren't against ppl read/writing darkfic content. do you have recs for some really well written darkfics / "problematic" fics. (sex is ok but not just straightup porn pls). can be any fandom.

These fics are all really excellently written in my opinion. Check them out (though obviously read the full tags on the ficbeforehand).

Stiffen the Sinews (Summon Up the Blood) by Whisky (whiskyrunner) (Fandom: Dark Knight Rises | Words: 80,666 | Rating: E | Warnings: Noncon, dark themes)

There are only men in the pit, and John's not strong enough to protect himself forever. But Bane is strong enough for both of them.

Dead wings carried like a paper kite by illwynd (Fandom: MCU Thor | Words: 48,612 | rating: M | Warnings: horror, tragic themes)

In the heat of battle, Loki kills his brother. As soon as Thor lies dead at his feet, though, he realizes this is not what he wanted. So he brings Thor back, and surely all is well again. Right?

and lead us not into temptation by Anonymous (Fandom: Star Wars | words: 7,361 | rating: E | Warnings: consensual but not especially safe or sane)

Hux looks him up and down, this Resistance golden boy, gangly and ungraceful and so appallingly soft. Takes a drag of his cigarette. “You’re weak,” he says. Solo looks up at him. “Please.” He draws in a long, broken breath. “Please.” Or: General Hux thinks about Ben Solo a lot more than he probably should.

A Tithe to Hell by Aja (Fandom: Death Note | Words: 33,910 | Rating: E | Warnings: dark themes)

Light has thirteen days to find out how it will feel--not just to kill, but to destroy.

a glass essay by fairbanks (Fandom: Magnus Archives | Words: 63,680 | Rating: T | Warnings: manipulation, tragedy)

Right out of university Jon's run out of time to run from the Web. The only way he knows to escape one domain is to give yourself to another, and he's always been good at being alone. He really wasn't imagining the Lukas family would take him in at all, let alone arrange him to marry some smarmy ass named Peter Lukas.

Ouroboros by Metalomagnetic (Fandom: Harry Potter | Words: 258,416 | Rating: E | Warnings: various dark themes)

A strange man adopts Tom Riddle and it is not his father, as Tom desperately wants to believe. Stranded in the past, Voldemort once again comes to the conclusion he's the only one he truly needs.

Sanguinem; Imperium by deluxekyluxtrashcan (rhoen) (Fandom: Star Wars | Words: 15,710 | Rating: E | Warnings: Self harm, dark themes)

Kylo might have a different way of dealing with his own inner conflict and turmoil, but he can still recognise the signs of someone attempting to cope when he notices the crack in Hux's exterior.

Omnipotent to Arms by tenrousei_kuroi (Fandom: Harry Potter | Words: 6,441 | Rating: E | warnings: noncon, horror)

For the 2021 Regulus Black Fest. Prompt: The dark lord decides that the youngest Black is to be his for the night. Regulus is mortified, but saying no is hardly an option. He hopes that compliance will be enough to live another day as unharmed as possible. (You can put a dose of Bellatrix getting jealous and being another menace to Regulus or not, as well as another DE romantically interested in Regulus and potentially helping him in some way, your choice.)

A Scream is a Wish Your Heart Makes by mswhich (Fandom: I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream | words: 13,024 | Rating: E | warnings: horror, noncon)

On the long list of things that AM hated, Ted was first, but boredom was a close second.

the pleasure, the privilege by asterismal (asterisms) (Fandom: Harry Potter | Words: 19,901 | Rating: M | Warnings: general dark themes, graphic violence)

It begins with Vernon Dursley's body, dead across the table. In which Voldemort is dosed with amortentia, and nothing is better for it.

[yourlocalsmutslut]

The high

warnings: weed, swearing, a bit of smut

wc: 502

a/n: this is my first time writing so bear with me if it's absolute shit.

You walk into the room and instantly smell weed. Before every show Louis would light a joint to calm his nerves, so this wasn't irregular. The only thing different about this time is that you were horny. You've been wanting to make a move on Louis for a while now, but haven't had the confidence. So, you go in and sit on the couch with Louis. He hands you the joint, which you usually don't accept; but this time you did. Shock on his face rises. "didn't expect you to take it," Louis calmly says. You lightly chuckle. "guess I just needed a hit this time". There's a little pause before you say, "But don't expect me to do it again. I'm mature, unlike you,""Oh, now you wanna get feisty I see" Louis says jokingly. You both chuckle a little bit.

As you both continue to finish the joint, your confidence spikes drastically. You turn your head to look at Louis, his beauty is breathtaking. Suddenly you start moving. Slowly wrapping your legs around his hips; straddling him. Confusion in his eyes, yet he doesn't stop you. You take the joint and suck in.  His eyes glued to you. Eye contact makes you even more aroused. fuck it. And with that, you kiss him. Finally feeling his lips on yours. The kiss everything you've ever imagined. Louis then slips his tongue into your mouth making you moan against him. Your hands rising to his hair and tugging at his strands. He groans, liking the feeling. As you both pull away, the smoke transfers into his mouth. Then Louis slowly blows the smoke into your face, teasing you. god he's hot. All of a sudden there's a knock on the door. Both of us jump as you quickly get off of him. The door opens and it's Niall. "We're on in five", Niall says. "Okay", Louis says, trying to stay calm. We all sit there for a brief moment until Niall says, "Meaning get your asses off the couch and let's go", "fuck off" Louis states as we both listen and get up from the couch. While you're walking out you notice that Louis is hard. He's trying his best to hide it but you can clearly see it.

The loud screams of fans await us. Usually your nerves start to build right now, but the weed in your system is making the nerves never even appear for a moment. You all walk on stage, and the fans scream even louder, which you didn't even know was possible.

As Harry starts singing his solo part, Louis walks over to you. You make intense eye contact, 

as you notice a smirk on his face. Once he reaches you, he leans in and whispers, "As soon as this show is done, I'm going to fuck you so hard that you won't be able to walk." Your legs are shaking from just hearing his words. For the rest of the show you're antsy and aroused.