#turns u into more of a tool than a person

[red-dyed-sarumane]

i have such high expectations for series things because aru sekai series itself has so much thought & detail & care put into it. it might read as nonsense at first but the more u pay attention the more context u get the more everything starts to click & make sense. a very fun way to use a medium to tell a story. theres a lot of other vocasong series but the dedication to minute details & throwing context in the background of mvs while otherwise being relatively simple mvs & just the constant tying things together theres just SO much to aru sekai series as a whole & individually & to see marshall maximizer get reduced to "fun currently popular voca song" does make me sad. its not an easy series to get into but also u are missing out on so much

[ketchuppee]

During the 2008 recession, my aunt lost her job. Her, her partner, and my three cousins moved across the country to stay with us while they got back on their feet. My house turned from a family of four to a family of nine overnight, complete with three dogs and five cats between us.

It took a few years for them to get a place of their own, but after a few rentals and apartments, they now own a split level ranch in a town nearby. I’ve lost track of how many coworkers and friends have stayed with them when they were in a tight spot. A mother and son getting out of an abusive relationship, a divorcee trying to stay local for his kids while they work out a custody agreement, you name it. My aunt and uncle knew first hand what that kindness meant, and always find space for someone who needed it, the way my parents had for them.

That same aunt and uncle visited me in [redacted] city last year. They are prolific drinkers, so we spent most of the day bar hopping. As we wandered the city, any time we passed a homeless person, my uncle would pull out a fresh cigarette and ask them if they had a light. Regardless of if they had a lighter on hand or not, he offered them a few bucks in exchange, which he explained to me after was because he felt it would be easier for them to accept in exchange for a service, no matter how small.

I work for a company that produces a lot of fabric waste. Every few weeks, I bring two big black trash bags full of discarded material over to a woman who works down the hall. She distributes them to local churches, quilting clubs, and teachers who can use them for crafts. She’s currently in the process of working with our building to set up a recycling program for the smaller pieces of fabric that are harder to find use for.

One of my best friends gives monthly donations to four or five local organizations. She’s fortunate enough to have a tech job that gives her a good salary, and she knows that a recurring donation is more valuable to a non-profit because they can rely on that money month after month, and can plan ways to stretch that dollar for maximum impact. One of those organizations is a native plant trust, and once she’s out of her apartment complex and in a home with a yard, she has plans to convert it into a haven of local flora.

My partner works for a company that is working to help regulate crypto and hold the current bad actors in the space accountable for their actions. We unfortunately live in a time where technology develops far too fast for bureaucracy to keep up with, but just because people use a technology for ill gain doesn’t mean the technology itself is bad. The blockchain is something that she finds fascinating and powerful, and she is using her degree and her expertise to turn it into a tool for good.

I knew someone who always had a bag of treats in their purse, on the odd chance they came across a stray cat or dog, they had something to offer them.

I follow artists who post about every local election they know of, because they know their platform gives them more reach than the average person, and that they can leverage that platform to encourage people to vote in elections that get less attention, but in many ways have more impact on the direction our country is going to go.

All of this to say, there’s more than one way to do good in the world. Social media leads us to believe that the loudest, the most vocal, the most prolific poster is the most virtuous, but they are only a piece of the puzzle. (And if virtue for virtues sake is your end goal, you’ve already lost, but that’s a different post). Community is built of people leveraging their privileges to help those without them. We need people doing all of those things and more, because no individual can or should do all of it. You would be stretched too thin, your efforts valiant, but less effective in your ambition.

None of this is to encourage inaction. Identify your unique strengths, skills, and privileges, and put them to use. Determine what causes are important to you, and commit to doing what you can to help them. Collective action is how change is made, but don’t forget that we need diversity in actions taken.

[froggiequarium]

747 words; some lads fluff of caleb praising u bc i deserve it (n so do u) :x

-

you trudge your way towards the kitchen, hunger evident after spending almost two hours reading and taking the first quiz of the semester, not even a week into the class.

seriously, what was up with that?

you let out a sigh when a voice rings you out of your thoughts.

"hey, pipsqueak!"

you're greeted by the familiar warm voice that makes any leftover tension in your shoulders ease almost instantly.

before you can respond, only being granted enough time to blink up at him, he speaks up again.

"finally droppin' in to say hi?"

you ignore his tease as you close the short distance, arms spreading to embrace him. he immediately welcomes you, one strong arm encircling your waist and easily pulling you towards his side, other hand preoccupied with the food cooking on the stove.

you nuzzle into the warmth of his side, breathing in his comforting scent, closing your eyes to bask in all that is him.

"m' hungry," you whine against the cloth of his shirt.

"is that all you see me as? your personal chef?"

"yes!" you answer playfully and all too quickly.

in the next second, you jolt, feeling a small slap against your ass.

"hey!"

he only laughs in amusement.

"so mean," you pout. "i was studying so hard, and i'm getting punished? how cruel..." you bury your face into his shirt, playfully sulking against him.

he hums, hand sliding up to your head as he pats your hair, other one using the tool in hand to stir the food in the pan.

"what, you want some praise or something?" he teases, not expecting an actual answer.

"yes," you answer maybe just a touch fast, looking up at him expectantly.

your honesty takes him by surprise for just a moment before a grin between teasing and loving crawls up his lips, setting the utensil down to reach over and turn the stove on low, hands now free to fully focus on you.

he looks down into your bright expectant eyes, all his attention on you, and you feel your heart race just a little bit faster in anticipation.

"you did so well, working so hard just a couple of days in," caleb coos at you, petting your head lovingly, nails lightly tracing at your scalp resembling a massage. he loves the way that satisfied grin creeps up your lips as you practically melt against him as you chase his touch, resembling a cat rubbing up against the affection its receiving from its owner.

his large hands slowly slide down the sides of your face before landing on your warm cheeks, almost engulfing them in his hold, squishing them just slightly and gently rubbing them.

"such a good girl, aren't you?"

the way your eyes slip shut and a sound akin to a pleased mewl escaping you as a response is something that makes his heart stutter in his chest.

even after all this time, you're still so cute to him.

"you must be hungry after working so hard, huh?"

you nod in response, hugging him closer, stealing his warmth almost trying to blanket yourself within it. as one of his hands slides down your back to rub gentle circles into it and the other one up to caress your head, you think you'll be able to fall asleep against him like this.

he chuckles warmly, feeling your body slump against him more and more with each passing minute, face buried into his chest. as much as he wants to stay like this, he doesn't want the freshly made lunch to go cold.

he slips his hand from its place on your back moving it to your shoulder, gently shaking you while the other pats your head twice, just slightly firmer than before. his voice comes out hushed in the gentle atmosphere that surrounds the both of you.

"hey, you don't want the food to get cold now, do you?"

you gently shake your head, and his hand— now flat on your head— moves it just enough to make you look back up at him, bleary eyes cracking open to meet his creased sunset ones.

"let me feed my smart baby and then we can nap together, yea? would you like that?"

"mhmm," you hum, giggling when you feel him maneuver your head to make you nod in agreement, almost not giving you a choice (not that you'd ever reject such an offer from caleb).

he smiles at your reaction, eyes dancing with mirth.

"you deserve this, after all. come on," he pats your head one more time, an obvious show of his affection for you for as long as you could remember.

"let's eat now, together."

just as it should be.

-

a/n: i just need some physical affection + some praise from him and i'll be easily fulfilled

-

[cloudyluun]

Lash Out (And Love Me) | nailtech!reader

Summary: When your sweet, silly boyfriend Harry volunteers to be your lash and nail guinea pig, you expect giggles and glue—what you don’t expect is him fully committing to his Bratz doll era. With glitter acrylics, wispy lashes, and enough sass to rival your clients, Harry turns your beauty studio into his own personal runway. But behind the drama and the tapping acrylics is the same boy who brings you pastries, cleans up your space, and tells you you’re magic. Who knew self-care could be a team effort?

A/N: HIIIII ANGELS 😭💗💗 Sooo this fic is inspired by the most ICONIC request ever!!! I saw “Harry with lashes and acrylics” and immediately dropped everything because YES. THIS is the kind of cracky fluff my soul lives for. Imagine soft boyfriend Harry blinking dramatically with 16mm wisps and tapping his pink glitter nails like he’s the CEO of Slay?? I was giggling the whole time writing this. I hope it makes your heart melt and your inner glam girl scream 💅✨ ty for reading I love u mwah mwah mwah

Word Count: 5,1k

Warnings: 

Extreme levels of fluff 💖

Mentions of beauty salon tools (lash glue, acrylics, etc.)

Harry being dramatic with fake lashes

Reader lovingly clowning Harry

So much pink it's practically a Barbie dream

Slightly suggestive jokes, but still sweet & soft

✨ Tap tap ✨ noises from acrylics

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The scent of lavender cuticle oil and sweet vanilla wax hung in the air like a signature perfume. Her studio was always warm, always inviting, even when the outside world felt like a spinning mess. Half the space was dedicated to lashes—plush recliner, ring light, neatly arranged trays of tiny black fans that could flutter anyone into hot girl heaven. The other half was nails—acrylics, gels, brushes, powders, glitters, rhinestones. Everything had its place, a cozy kind of chaos that only she understood.

She was perched on her stool, mid-paint, tongue poking out in concentration as she dragged a fine-tipped brush over a client's ring finger, crafting a perfect little flame.

"Okay, babe. These are officially fire," she said, flashing the nails under the light. "Literally."

The client grinned, nodding in approval as she waved her hand slowly, admiring the reflection of the red and orange tips. "You’re a magician," she said.

“I try.”

The front door chimed then, a familiar little ding that always made her heart do a dumb skip. She didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

“Is it the hottest lash tech in the land?” came a voice, low and teasing, already halfway through a smirk.

She turned, and there he was—Harry Styles, in all his casual glory. He had on a knit sweater with sleeves pushed up to his forearms, a cap low over his curls, and a brown paper bag in one hand, two lidded coffees balanced in the other.

"Hi, baby," she said, voice soft in a way it wasn’t with anyone else.

“Hi, love,” he grinned, walking the rest of the way in. He greeted the client with a polite smile before setting the bag and cups down on the small counter by her mini fridge. “I brought the goods. Flaky boy from that place you like, and the brown sugar one with the foam you always forget you love until you taste it.”

She raised an eyebrow, impressed. “You remember my order now?”

He puffed up like she’d handed him a Grammy. “Of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I couldn’t rattle off your coffee order in my sleep?”

“A terrible one. You’d be single. Alone. Cold in the streets.”

“Harsh.”

The client laughed as she gathered her things, carefully avoiding bumping her freshly done nails on anything. “You two are disgustingly cute. Thank you again,” she said, waving her fingers like a hand model.

“Text me if you pop one!” She called after her, already wiping down her station.

Harry wandered over, snatching a paper towel to help without being asked. He moved around her space like he belonged, which he did—he was there more often than not, whether dropping in for ten minutes between interviews or killing time on a slow afternoon.

She nudged him with her hip. “You don’t have to clean.”

“I know. But I like it.” He glanced around at the freshly wiped surfaces, her well-loved tools, her little pink fan still humming faintly in the background. “This place’s got your whole vibe. Feels like you.”

She paused for a second, glancing up at him. He wasn’t looking for brownie points. He just said stuff like that. Simple, direct, heartfelt. It was his thing.

“I like it here,” he added, taking a sip of his own coffee. “It’s warm. Peaceful. You’ve made a whole business where people walk out feeling better than they did when they came in. That’s kinda magic, isn’t it?”

She squinted at him. “Are you trying to make me cry at eleven in the morning?”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing. You look cute when you cry.”

“Shut up,” she mumbled, smiling as she sipped her drink.

Harry leaned against the wall, watching her reload her brush pot and refill a bottle of rubbing alcohol with practiced hands. There was something kind of hypnotic about the way she worked—focused, fast, but always with care. It was the same when she did his nails sometimes for fun or patched up his cuticles because "you're not going on tour with hangnails, baby, absolutely not."

He loved seeing her like this. Not just because she looked hot with her lashes curled and her apron smeared with glitter, but because she lit up here. She was in her zone.

“So,” he said, dragging the word out. “Got any openings today, or is your schedule full of baddies?”

She gave him a look over her shoulder. “You tryna book a fill-in?”

He held up his hands. “Just saying. I’ve got some down time and ten perfectly good fingers. And very plain lashes, might I add.”

“Not the lash envy.”

“Maybe a little.”

She laughed, then gestured to the lash chair. “Come sit. I need to reorganize my lash trays anyway. You can be my moral support. And my taste tester.”

“Dream job,” he said, flopping dramatically into the chair, long legs sprawling. “This better be the flaky boy with the raspberry filling, or I’m gonna file a formal complaint.”

“I’ll file your nails down to nubs.”

He grinned, eyes sparkling. “Kinky.”

She tossed a clean towel at his face, shaking her head. This was how it always was—him showing up with breakfast, her pretending not to be thrilled every time. Their relationship didn’t need grand gestures or long speeches. It was the everyday stuff—the way he knew exactly where she kept the almond milk in the mini fridge, how he refilled her paper towel roll without being asked, how he always asked about her clients like he genuinely wanted to know.

He reached for the pastry and took a dramatic bite, making a face like it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. “God, you deserve awards. For taste. For style. For boyfriend selection.”

She snorted. “Modest.”

“Just accurate.”

She finished tidying up her station, then leaned against the table across from him, sipping the rest of her coffee. They sat in silence for a moment—comfortable, familiar, full.

Harry looked around the studio again, eyes lingering on the shelf of sample nails, the tiny framed photo of them in the corner, her name on the sign outside the window. “Y’know,” he said, softer now, “I really am proud of you.”

Her stomach did a little twist, the good kind. “Yeah?”

He nodded, still looking around like it was the first time he’d seen the place. “You built this. All of it. You didn’t wait for permission. Just... made it happen.”

She smiled, cheeks warm. “You’re gonna get me all sappy.”

“Good. You get all sappy, and I get more pastries. Win-win.”

They stayed like that for a little while longer, sunlight filtering through the blinds, pastries half-eaten on the counter, coffee slowly cooling. Just a regular day in the salon. But if you asked either of them, it was kind of perfect.

She finally peeled herself off the counter with a sigh, brushing a few flakes of pastry from her lap as she walked over to her lash cart. There was a new tray she’d been dying to open—extra wispy fans with staggered lengths that gave off that “effortlessly dramatic” vibe everyone wanted lately. She picked it up, turned it around in her hands like it might whisper secrets if she stared hard enough.

“I swear, these brands are making lashes out of clouds or something now,” she muttered.

Harry tilted his head from where he was still sprawled in the lash chair, eyes half-lidded, toe tapping in time with a faint beat playing from the Bluetooth speaker.

“That good?” he asked, sipping what remained of his coffee.

“That pretty,” she corrected, holding the tray up to the light. “I need to try ‘em. They’re supposed to have that barely-there, doe-eyed finish. Kinda like you woke up perfect but obviously didn’t.”

Harry smirked. “That’s your whole brand, innit? ‘Oh, this? I woke up like this, and also spent $120 to do so.’”

“Exactly.” She turned, hand on hip. “The lash girlies want soft glam that slaps. I gotta get it right.”

He watched her carefully select a few more tools, laying things out on her rolling tray, clearly falling into prep mode. The zone.

“You gonna call up one of your test-dummy besties?” he asked.

“Probably,” she said. “Or… I mean, you do have free time today.”

Harry raised a brow.

She grinned, almost sheepish. “I could practice on you. Lashes and nails. Kill two birds. You’d look hot.”

“Hot, huh?”

“Devastatingly hot.”

Harry pretended to consider this, setting down his coffee and folding his hands over his stomach in full melodramatic thinking pose. “Tell me more. Will I look like a pop princess or an early 2000s boyband member?”

She chewed on her lower lip, mock serious. “Mmm. Somewhere between Nick Carter and early Britney. A sprinkle of woodland fairy. With just a touch of ‘I own a pink convertible and wear bedazzled crop tops.’”

Harry burst out laughing, his head tipping back against the chair. “Honestly? Sounds iconic.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Wait—are you actually saying yes?”

He shrugged. “Why not? I trust you. Just don’t go posting me lookin’ like a Bratz doll on the internet.”

She blinked, surprised but not shocked. Harry had always been game for her weird ideas. He let her pluck his brows during a sleepover phase early on in dating, let her use his hand in an Instagram reel showing how to hold a brush “for max precision,” and once sat in full eye masks during a girls' night because “self-care is for everyone, babe.” But this? Lashes and acrylics? That was a new level.

“No posting,” she promised, crossing her heart. “But I am taking photos.”

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “For your private collection?”

“Obviously.”

He snorted. “You’ve got a folder of cursed boyfriend content, don’t you?”

“Oh, several,” she said casually, flipping on the ring light.

Harry kicked off his shoes and got comfortable, clearly committed now. “Alright then. Glam me up, baby.”

“You’re not gonna regret this?”

“I probably will the second I can’t scratch my face or blink right, but it’ll be worth it.”

She beamed and got to work, washing her hands and setting everything up like it was a real client appointment. Which, in a way, it was. Harry Styles was about to be her glittery guinea pig, and he was already making dramatic blinking noises just thinking about it.

She held up two lash trays in front of him. “Okay, serious question: Do you want full fairy fantasy or subtle glam?”

Harry leaned forward, examining the tiny fans like he had any clue what he was looking at. “Give me... the drama. If I’m doing it, I want to be able to blink and cause a breeze.”

“Say less.”

She prepped his lashes, brushing them with a soft spoolie, while he hummed a random melody under his breath. When she pulled out the lash glue, he immediately started flinching.

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” she laughed.

“I’m mentally preparing! I’ve never had hot glue near my eyeballs!”

“It’s not hot,” she corrected. “And you said you trust me, remember?”

“I do, I do,” he said, eyes fluttering closed as she leaned in.

The first lash went on without incident. Then, Harry started in.

“Am I giving pop-punk princess yet?”

“Not even halfway done.”

“Do I look like I should be in a girl group?”

“Almost.”

“Which one? Don’t say Spice Girls, that’s too easy.”

“You’re giving... Little Mix but, like, in their early days.”

He grinned, keeping his eyes closed. “Jade would be proud.”

She tried to stay focused—precision was key with lashes—but he kept interrupting her with increasingly ridiculous questions.

“What if I love them and don’t want to take them off?”

“Then you’ll be high-maintenance with high standards. Join the club.”

“What if I start influencing your clients?”

“Honestly, free marketing.”

By the time she was on the last lash, she was shaking with laughter, trying not to botch the placement. Harry had invented three fake personas for himself in the span of twenty minutes: a pop icon named Starlight Vixen, a lash influencer called Blink Twice, and a dramatic nail reviewer with the handle “ClackDaddy.”

When she finally finished, she held up the mirror.

Harry blinked slowly, then gasped. “Oh my god. I feel gorgeous. Like a Bratz doll that got lost at Coachella.”

“You’re stunning,” she agreed, snapping a dozen photos before he could protest.

“No posting, woman.”

“These are for me,” she said, saving them in a hidden album on her phone. “For emotional support purposes.”

Harry fluttered his lashes dramatically. “I feel like I could cause problems with these.”

“You already do.”

“Okay, but more problems.”

She laughed and leaned down to kiss his forehead, lashes and all.

“Can we keep them on for the rest of the day?”

“You’ll forget and rub your eye in like twenty minutes.”

“True,” he admitted. “But for now, I’m living my best life.”

He fluttered his lashes one more time for good measure, then gasped. “Wait—what if these change me as a person? What if I get emotionally attached to them?”

“You already are,” she said, laughing. “You’re naming them in your head, aren’t you?”

“Left side’s Veronica. Right side’s Dominique.”

“Of course they are.”

He beamed. “Veronica’s my edgy side. Dominique’s all vibes and velvet.”

She rolled her eyes and tossed the used lash brush into the trash. “Alright, Vixen. Ready for your nail appointment?”

He cracked his knuckles dramatically. “My time has come.”

“Hands on the table, pretty boy,” she said, patting the plush towel she’d laid out.

Harry obeyed with the seriousness of someone preparing for surgery. “Be gentle. These hands have held Grammys.”

“They’ve also dropped your phone in the toilet twice.”

“Allegedly.”

She snorted and grabbed her file, gently shaping his nails. He winced at first, clearly expecting it to hurt, which made her laugh. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just adjusting to life as a hand model.”

“You’re about to have pastel pink coffin tips with tiny hearts. Not sure that’ll land you the Chanel campaign.”

“First of all,” he said, completely serious, “pastel pink is timeless. Second, hearts are very me.”

“You want hearts?”

He nodded, lips pursed. “Hearts. Glitter tips. Full Barbie glam. If we’re doing it, we’re doing it properly.”

She blinked. “Wait, really?”

“Absolutely. This is my moment.”

“Oh, you’re deep in character now.”

“I am the moment, babe. Click clack bitch, part two.”

She giggled, reaching for her swatch wheel and holding it out like a treasure trove. “Pick your shade of pink.”

He pointed decisively. “That one. The one that looks like strawberry milk.”

“Solid choice.”

While she prepped his nails, pushing back cuticles and buffing the surface, he tapped his phone with his pinky like he was adjusting to life post-nail-enhancement already.

“Feels weird,” he muttered. “Like, delicate. Powerful. I feel like I should be emotionally distant from everyone and start a feud on Instagram.”

“You’re gonna be unbearable.”

“Oh, I already am.”

Once she finished the prep, she gently applied the tips, sculpting them just long enough to be dramatic without compromising Harry’s ability to live as a functioning adult. He examined them mid-process like they were tiny art installations. “This one’s giving... main character energy. I think she’s the leader.”

“You’re naming the nails now?”

“Of course I am. That’s Gloria,” he said, pointing to his ring finger. “She’s been through things.”

“Okay, I can’t do this,” she said, stifling a laugh as she started laying down the pink base. “You’re too much.”

“I’m just emotionally connected to my glam.”

“You’ve had it for forty-five minutes.”

“And yet it’s changed me.”

By the time she started painting the little hearts—perfect, tiny, hand-drawn with a dotting tool and steady precision—he was absolutely glowing. Lashes still intact, head tilted to the side like a proud glamazon.

“You’re really good at this,” he said, quieter this time.

She looked up, surprised by the sudden softness. “Thanks, babe.”

“No, seriously. You could be charging triple. You’ve got the hands of a magician.”

“I’ve got carpal tunnel, but thanks.”

He laughed. “Still. You’re brilliant.”

She gave him a small smile and went back to top coating his left hand. “You’re only saying that because I’m holding you hostage with a UV lamp.”

“And because I love you.”

She froze for half a second, then glanced up. His expression was so soft, it made something ache in her chest. “Love you too, Glamazon.”

He smiled like he’d just won something.

Once she finished curing the top coat, she sprayed his hands with alcohol and rubbed off the tacky layer. The moment she was done, Harry immediately began tapping.

Tap. Tap. Tap. On the counter. On his phone. On the glass of the mini-fridge. It was relentless.

“Stop it,” she warned, already grinning.

“I can’t,” he said, eyes wide. “They make noise. Beautiful noise. I’m like a rich aunt passive-aggressively texting her Pilates instructor.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“You’re gonna break them.”

“I would die before I broke Gloria.”

She crossed her arms. “You keep saying ‘click clack bitch’ and I will soak them off.”

He gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“But I haven’t even sent my dramatic voice note to Jeff yet.”

Before she could stop him, he lifted his phone and hit record.

“Jeff,” he said, clicking his nails against the phone mic like a Real Housewife in crisis. “I can’t come to the meeting. My lashes are too heavy, and my nails are too long. You wouldn’t understand. I’m different now.”

He hit send before she could snatch the phone away.

“Harry!”

“He’ll think it’s funny!”

“He’s going to think I’ve trapped you in a glittery nightmare.”

Harry grinned, completely unbothered. “Let him. I’m thriving.”

She watched him admire his nails in the mirror, fluttering his lashes, tapping the glitter tips gently on his cheek like he was testing how they felt against his skin.

“Can you believe I’ve never done this before?” he asked.

“I can,” she said. “Most people don’t immediately jump to full Barbie glam when trying something new.”

“Well,” he said, hands on his hips. “You deserve to practice on the best.”

“Oh, is that what this is? Practice?”

“It’s an honor, really.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And beautiful.”

She laughed, grabbing her phone again and snapping another picture before he could protest. “You keep talking like that, I’m putting these in the salon slideshow.”

He gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“Private folder only.”

She winked. “We’ll see.”

As he posed again, showing off the nails like he was about to start his own press-on line, she couldn’t help but feel a strange burst of warmth.

This was the kind of thing that would’ve scared other guys away—too extra, too silly, too “not manly”—but Harry? Harry was here in her lash chair with butterfly wisps on his lids and baby pink hearts on his fingertips, smiling like this was exactly where he wanted to be.

And honestly, it was. He’d made that more than clear.

She smiled into his chest, nose tucked just under his jaw, fingers playing with the hem of his hoodie. She stayed there for a while—just breathing him in, warm laundry and skin and the faintest trace of vanilla latte—but then she pulled back slightly and tilted her head to get a proper look at him.

The lashes were still holding strong, each little cluster fanned out just enough to make his eyes look even greener in the soft light. His nails, glossy and perfect, tapped idly against her thigh like they had a mind of their own.

“Okay,” she said, sitting up. “Before you ruin this masterpiece with something dumb like cooking or... zipping a jacket, I need photos.”

His eyes widened instantly. “No.”

“Harry.”

“Nope.”

“C’mon!”

“I draw the line at photo evidence.”

“You already let me glue lashes on your face and hearts on your fingers.”

“That was private,” he said, as if that settled it.

She leaned in close, flashing him her best sweet-evil grin. “So let me keep it private. Just for me. Promise.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Define private.”

She whipped out her phone and pulled up her locked album folder. “I have a whole section already titled ‘My Princess’ with, like, three blurry photos of you eating ice cream and one where you're asleep on the couch with a face mask on. This will fit perfectly.”

He stared at her. “You named it my princess?”

She nodded solemnly. “You were wearing a robe and fuzzy socks. It was fitting.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Smile,” she said, raising her phone.

He tried to block his face with his hands, but the second he did, he caught his own nails in the reflection of her phone screen and cracked up.

“You’re actually loving this,” she teased, snapping a photo mid-laugh.

“I am not,” he said, fully smiling now.

Click.

“Okay, but what am I supposed to do with my hands?” he asked, suddenly self-conscious, holding them up awkwardly like mannequin claws.

“Anything. Literally anything,” she said, already clicking away. “Pose like a housewife. Pose like a pop star. Pose like someone who just spent ninety minutes getting pampered and secretly loved every second.”

He raised one pinky and gave a dramatic side-eye to the mirror.

Click.

He pouted, blowing her a kiss.

Click.

He sprawled back on the couch, hand resting against his temple like he was fainting from glam.

Click.

She was giggling so hard she almost dropped the phone. “Oh my god, you’re giving Vogue cover.”

“I’m giving get me out of here before this ends up on Twitter,” he said, even as he held the pose.

“You’re safe,” she said, locking the album and tucking the phone into her back pocket. “Swear.”

“Not even to your group chat?”

“Especially not to them. These are for emergencies only.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Like...?”

“Like if I’m sad or stressed or you’re on tour and I miss your face. I’ll open that folder, see you with a full set and baby lashes, and everything will feel lighter.”

His smile softened, and he reached for her hand, nails clicking gently against her skin. “That’s allowed.”

She grinned. “You sure?”

“As long as you never post them.”

“Never. Cross my heart.”

They sat there in silence for a beat, just the two of them in the soft hum of the salon, surrounded by the faint scent of topcoat and sugar. The kind of silence that felt easy, like a blanket thrown over the day. She curled into his side again, the weight of his arm wrapping around her.

His fingers traced idle shapes on her arm, the pads of his fingers cool against her skin. He looked down at her lashes fluttering against her cheeks, then wiggled his own dramatically.

“You know,” he said, “I feel kind of... powerful like this.”

She looked up. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm. Lashes like butterfly wings. Nails like daggers. I could destroy a man.”

She laughed. “You can barely open a Snapple.”

“Still,” he said, holding his hand out in front of him, admiring the shimmer, “this is art.”

“You’re my art.”

He gave her a pleased little grin. “You’re just saying that because I let you practice on me.”

“I’m saying it because you’re ridiculous and wonderful and also very sparkly right now.”

He leaned in and kissed her softly, just once, then rested his forehead against hers. Then he pulled back slightly, lashes fluttering again with over-the-top drama. “Now do you think I could pull off rhinestones?”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Thank you so much for reading, you’re a total angel! Don’t forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! It means everything to me! 💖

taglist: @oscahpastry @mema10 @angelbabyyy99 @iloveharrystyles04 @cinemharry @drwho06 @donutsandpalmtrees @panini @mads3502 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa @one-sweet-gubler @rizosrizos26 @ciriceimpera @everyscarisahealingplace @hello-heyhi @sexymfharriet @lizsogolden @hannah9921 @chicabonitasblog @huhidontknowstuff @berrywoods1245 @jennovaaa @angeldavis777 @prettygurl-2009 @almostcontentcreator @run-for-the-hills @maudie-duan @dipmeinhoneyh @harrrrystylesslut @georgiarose94 @stylestarkey @watarmelon212 @hopefullimaginer123, @fangirl509east @bethiegurl19 @adoredeanna @secretisme4 @harry2121 @hopefullimaginer123 @fangirl509east @uncassettodiricordi @2601-london @zbaby @harryscherries28 @michellekstyles @alohajix

[imsryyimlate]

trafalgar law x reader that matches his intellectual freak. he gets giddy bc she listens to his ramblings and vice versa🥹specifically an anthropologist or like archeologist nerd reader! thank u🫶🏻

yes! law needs someone to match his inner, smart, depressed soul ❤️ btw it was years since i took anthropology so i had to do some internet digging to refresh my memory and write this 😂

— pairing: law x anthropologist!reader

one day on the polar tang, you settled into a corner of the mess hall, a hot cup of tea next to you accompanied by a messy stack of books and folders. law wasn’t normally one to seek out conversation, but when he saw a title on the spine of one of your books, he couldn’t help but approach you and ask.

“interested in medicine?” he asked nonchalantly.

not looking up from the textbook you replied, “not medicine itself, but medical procedures.”

“enlighten me.” law challenged, standing in front of the table.

looking up from your texts, you rested your elbow on the table and rested the side of your head on your open palm. “well, this text says,” you replied, flipping the book in front of you, “that way back when, humans would sharpen rocks to create scalpels from the grand line waters because they’re ‘blessed’. a surgical knife with these ‘blessed properties’ supposedly caused successful procedures, not the skill of the doctor or surgeon alone.”

“so you’re saying that the environment was the cause of a person not dying?”

you nodded enthusiastically. “yes.”

“what about now?” he asked. “as in, with current medical technology?”

“well, you’re the doctor. you tell me.” you smiled. “do you think your scalpels and medical tools are blessed?”

law scoffed, pulled the chair back in front of the table, and turned it around so he could sit on it backward, resting his forearms on the backrest.

“i wouldn’t say blessed,” he started, “but i do so happen to be blessed with the skills of being an actual doctor.”

“well then, dr. trafalgar,” you smirked, “enlighten me.”

law raised an eyebrow. “on what?”

“how you can successfully manage surgeries without a blessed scalpel.”

and that invitation was all he needed.

“first of all, how well a scalpel works has nothing to do with superstition but instead with what it’s made of. dull scalpels can cause more damage than good. surgical steel is ideal because it stays sharp.” he started.

“so you’re saying the guys who sharpened the rocks were lucky?” you smirked.

“yes…in a way.” he admitted. “but, were their tools sanitized? that alone can cause infection.”

“of course they did their best to clean them,” you defended. “but these humans had limited resources so mistakes are bound to happen—unintentionally, doctor.” you quickly added.

law blinked and slowly nodded his head. the way you countered his points were seamless. he was finding himself dangerously close to liking this conversation.

“yes, but advancements in what tools are made of make surgery easier and safer. without technique, any tool is useless.” he scooted closer to the table. “may i?” he asked, motioning to the books.

“proceed.” you chuckled.

“if you really want to look into this seriously, i’ll find you a book that doesn’t revolve around superstitions…”

and just like that, hours slipped away and law found himself not only grateful, but enjoying a conversation without someone other than himself.

[morikosa]

Heyyyy!!! How r u?

Could u please make a Dad!gojo × daughter!reader where in gojo and his first years trio teleported 13 years in future. There they met 14 year old daughter of gojo. User didn't know gojo's her dad as when she was born gojo died fighting sukuna and thought her dad left her (she don't have a good life as people treat her as a weapon.) She slightly hate gojo (she also inherited six eyes and limitless). When gojo and his student return he made a personal mission to find his daughter newborn daughter.

Please atleast tell whether you r interested or not!!????

i really hope you do cause no one accept my request 😭😭😭😭

Recognition

Your childhood was cold. The world saw you as nothing more than Gojo's legacy: the "Six Eyes Heir," a living weapon. Jujutsu society raised you like a war tool, trained ruthlessly, emotionally neglected. People whispered behind your back, "She’ll either save us or destroy us." You started to believe them.

You inherited both Six Eyes and Limitless. But unlike Gojo, no one celebrated it. You weren’t spoiled or protected. You were controlled, observed, punished when you failed. You learned to survive, not live.

You lowkey hate Gojo. You don't even remember him. You’ve only heard stories—some paint him a hero, others a reckless narcissist who got himself killed and left a burden behind. Deep down, you think: If he really cared, he wouldn’t have left me alone in this hell.

When present-day Gojo appears in your timeline, your Six Eyes react instantly. You feel him. His cursed energy is identical to yours—it’s terrifying and… familiar? You feel like you’re going to throw up when you see his face. It's like looking into a distorted mirror.

Gojo is floored. He sees your eyes and knows. That’s his daughter. His baby. But she’s not the newborn he left behind—she’s a bitter, broken 14-year-old who glares at him like he’s the villain.

You don’t believe he’s real at first. You think it’s a trick or an illusion. And when it’s confirmed he really is Gojo Satoru, something inside you snaps. How dare he show up now?

Gojo is completely devastated. You’re his entire world now. He missed your first words, first steps, every birthday, every tear. And he’s haunted by what this world did to you. "I would’ve torn the world apart before letting it touch a hair on your head…" he whispers one night when you're asleep. He means it.

The First Years try to befriend you. Megumi is awkward, Nobara is bluntly affectionate, Yuuji tries to make you laugh. You're cold at first, but part of you craves connection. You never had a real family.

Gojo becomes obsessed with fixing this future. He doesn’t care if it means getting trapped in this timeline forever—he’s not leaving you again. “You don’t have to forgive me,” he tells you, voice cracking, “Just let me stay.”

The moment he steps through the portal, Gojo’s breath catches in his throat.

It’s her.

She stands across the ruined training grounds, black uniform scuffed, her posture perfect. Too perfect. Like she’s afraid of failing. Her eyes meet his—and everything stops.

Blue. Bluer than his. Six Eyes.

His voice trembles. “…You’re—”

She draws her blade, cursed energy flaring. “Don’t say it.”

Yuuji takes a step forward. “Wait— Gojo-sensei, is that—?”

She scoffs. “Gojo Satoru. You’re supposed to be dead.”

He’s too stunned to speak. Too ashamed.

You tilt your head, voice laced with venom. “So, what? You’re here to play daddy now?”

And with that, you turn your back on him. Walk away.

He doesn’t stop you.

He just sinks to his knees, whispering to himself—

“I never got to hold her.”

Sorry if it didn't meet your expectations. I haven't written this kind of scenario until now. Hope you like it though 😘

[mushyblushyredhead]

if u got a tickle facehugger, how bout a straight up tickle xenomorph? :>

Waaay ahead of ya 😉 but YESYESYESYES

Behold! BIG FLUFFY BABEY 🖤 (this is an old ask, last self-indulgent thing before I get back to the important stuff lol) …info dump below X3

STAGE 4: XENOMORPH aka “Lee-nomorph”

Object class: Safe

Height: 7ft

• The final stage of Xenomorph development.

• After chestburster period, the developing babies will promptly shed its remaining skin and fur as it fully matures.

• Growth rate is astonishingly fast; baby chestbursters can grow to full Xenomorph size in under 10 minutes.

• Once it reaches peak maturity, the now adult Xenomorphs will isolate themselves in a cozy spot to sleep for about 2 hours (best described as a “food coma”)

• Once they awaken, however, they are racked with hunger and will seek out the nearest food source (prone to tickle wrecking their human host first, but will not object to tickling others nearby as well)

• Feeds off of human laughter, but can also consume some sweet foods and beverages as well (Previous encounters claim Xenomorphs love sour gummy candy and M&Ms, and one report says a Xenomorph ate an entire carton of chocolate milk from the cafeteria——the carton included)

NOTICEABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS

Xenomorphs are distinguishable by their elongated furry heads and infamous inner extendable mouth. They have fur covering their entire bodies that is very soft to the touch. Long, feathery dorsal spikes protruding its back are still unknown for what purpose they serve. And long feather-ended tails serve to either securely restrain a victim’s limbs or use the feather end as a tickle tool.

The most noticeable trait a Xenomorph possesses is its extendable inner mouth, which it uses to give raspberries to its ticklish victims. This seems to be its favorite tactic when it comes to tickling humans as Xenomorphs love giving raspberries.

Despite not having visible eyes, Xenomorphs are very agile tickle monsters. They have an excellent sense of hearing, and can pick up the sounds of muffled giggles very easily, even from afar. Xenomorphs are very stealthy and can easily sneak up on unsuspecting victims.

PERSONALITY

Even though Xenomorphs are noticeably bigger and stronger than humans, they are very gentle creatures. Xenomorphs love physical affection (e.g. pets, cuddles, scratches under the chin, & belly rubs) and will continuously nudge you when they want to be pet.

Xenomorphs are very playful aliens that love to tickle attack humans. They like a good chase, and prefer to “play with their food” by chasing a human to cause flustered anticipation.

These aliens get their infamous nicknames “Lee-nomorph” by injecting a harmless, non-stinging venom through their fangs that puts humans in a lee mood. The only downside is your ticklishness will be dialed up as a result, even those who aren’t ticklish.

Once they’ve had their fill, Xenomorphs will pull you in for aftercare snuggles. It’s best to lay there and enjoy a nice nap alongside the alien instead of trying to break from the snuggle trap otherwise the Xenomorph may mistake your excess fidgeting for wanting more tickles.

Just like facehuggers, Xenomorphs will also spew corrosive acid if they see their favorite humans in danger. Xenomorphs will turn hostile, and will not hesitate to use to use their powerful jaws to bite through metal, crush through bones, or even use their inner extendable mouth to mutilate someone’s skull. Xenomorphs are loyal and will go to great lengths to protect the humans they love. 💚

[glamourscat]

Hi)

Saw your analysis on Kaiser, why can't you write about him and what he can be like in a relationship. You mentioned trauma, and I have a question for Shidou...

Yes, many in the fandom agree that Shidou most likely had a shitty (and even abusive) past, but in your opinion, what makes you think that Shidou (unlike Kaiser) wouldn't go down the path of manipulation/abuse in a relationship with someone, i.e. not projecting his possible traumas?

Thank you for your question, I hope I answered what u were wondering. Feel free to discuss it in the replies :)

Both Kaiser, and potentially Shidou, carry the weight of difficult pasts. However, their approaches to human connection couldn't be more different. Which is why a relationship with Kaiser would be destructive while with Shidou would be chaotic but not necessarily toxic.

In Shidou’s case we have a limited amount of infos. What we know is that he sees the world in this very artistic, peculiar way. And despite his strong presence on the field, off it, he doesn’t seem to hold the same characteristics (or at least not to the same degree.)

He is loud, anti conformist but most of all he has the most “sane” ego between the players. He plays for himself. He knows his strengths and weaknesses. Not only that, but it’s shown more than once that he compliments people who show real talent.

Unlike Kaiser, who feels threatened immediately when someone is better than him or sees it as a tool for dominance. Like I have said, Shidou recognizes and compliments others' unique strengths. He's not looking to break people down, he's actively acknowledging what makes them special while pushing himself to leave “a mark in this world”. This appreciation for individuality (which is the core of shidou’s character) suggests someone who'd be more likely to build up a partner rather than tear them down.

We also know he seeks physical touch and connection. From attaching to Sae immediately when, for the first time, he found someone who understood his way of playing. In a way it’s like a desperate reach of someone who’s trying to heal something deep within by physical touch, which in his case, could be the struggle in being different and misunderstood. His need for physical touch speaks to someone who's trying to reclaim what was taken from him rather than perpetuate a cycle of harm.

Kaiser weaponizes his past trauma, turning it into a shield and sword. He sees vulnerability as a weakness to use against you. Let’s look what happened with Ness for example. He knew from moment one that he was going to use him. Outside and inside the field. He made Ness codependent, using his vulnerability and naivety against him. A guy who wanted nothing but love and a sense of belonging, is turned into a puppet, because Kaiser knows despite his harsh words or actions, Ness will never leave.

Shidou wears his heart on his sleeve in the most beautifully chaotic way. He is honest, maybe to a brutal extent. But he doesn’t do that in a manipulative way, he does that because he is a honest person. When asked what made him cry recently, he gave that raw, honest answer about becoming nothing. That's not manipulation, that's pure, unfiltered emotional authenticity.

The projection of past trauma? Sure, it might happen. But, who doesn't carry some scars into relationships? But there's a huge difference between unconsciously working through your issues with a partner and deliberately manipulating them.

Would Shidou be a perfect partner? No. But he wouldn’t be a toxic, manipulative individual like Kaiser either. Shidou just... exists, in all his chaotic, genuine glory. His explosive side is confined to the field, showing the ability to compartmentalise rather than let his (possible) traumas bleed into every aspect of his life.

In the end, it comes down to this: while Kaiser isolates himself and pushes people away, Shidou actively tries to connect with others. His ways of connecting might not be conventional (they might be rough around the edges, maybe even a bit chaotic) but he's still trying to reach out and form genuine bonds with people. That's what makes him fundamentally different from Kaiser, who only seeks relationships to his benefit. That’s what would keep Shidou away from going down the same manipulative path as Kaiser.

[laikabu]

saw someone who hc kabru as aromantic bisexual. thats actually kinda good. i dont necessarily subscribe to it but i could see it. not fully aro but in the spectrum i guess

im now just going to ramble about how i think this would work in my head. also labru bc this is my page

he sees flirting more as a game n marriage as something convenient than something he aspires to achieve w the one he loves

flirting n dating is more of a tool to make friends. he isn’t interested in getting serious so that usually turns them off, so he gets labeled as a ‘player’

he doesn’t return rin’s feelings even though he finds her physically attractive, because he genuinely values her friendship and the way he views romance is incompatible with hers and would just break her heart

ok labru territory turn away now sorry im pulling shit out of my ass atp

laios would fit right in with his preferences, because their relationship would be boiled down to “best friends who have sex” like, the easiest way for them to explain their thing

even if they go on dates, they’d be more interested in talking about a current topic or something they need to do, than super sappy stuff. they still do it! but kabru would kinda get uncomfortable with saying sappy stuff, it’s different from flirting. once laios recognizes this, he tells him he doesnt have to do that

it works out because while laios is kinda sentimental, he isn’t really a romantic person. when they were still figuring stuff out, laios just goes “x is mad at me because they think not doing y makes me a bad partner” but really, kabru doesn’t care whether he does it or not

if laios is saying this about a different partner, kabru would chastise him, but since it’s him, he’s totally fine with none of that happening

when it comes to them becoming spouses, they would rather forgo a real wedding and just do the paperwork to make it happen. marcille takes offense to this n thinks its an “affront to romance” esp since kabru wants to plan HER wedding, but neither of them think it’s a big deal

laios has a very hard time distinguishing his platonic feelings to his romantic feelings. he’s just very happy kabru that wouldn’t leave him or get bored of him. getting to kiss him and have sex with him is just a nice bonus.

kissing and cuddling is more of an emotional recharge or comfort etc for kabru than a romantic activity. his friends don’t get it at all.

even in my stupid baby universe its just “kabru wants to have a baby with me for the kingdom? he’s such a nice guy. he told me he wants utaya to live on too… thats so thoughtful.” their relationship is ‘blunt’ and ‘convenient’. the marriage was just to legitimize the heir and otherwise it was just a regular wednesday.

they love each other, but kabru expresses it to the extent that he could, and that works out for laios.

tl;dr basically someone who views romance as a performance than something ingrained w him x someone who struggles w romance. its totally fine if you dont see kabru on the aromantic spectrum, i don’t necessarily see it that way either! i just want to think about how it would work in my fanworks. what do u think. i should add more but im just going off at the top of my head LOL

[genericpuff]

ten storylines u think could have been amazing in lo if they had been handled better?

10 already feels like so much for a story like LO buuttt:

1.) the act of wrath plotline, seriously this one felt like it had some of the most lost potential as one of LO's more unique plotlines (and it lost that potential as soon as it was turned into some "oopsy" committed by persephone due to her wrath being a 'gift' from eris when she was a baby??? still bugs me so much ugh) give me back that dichotomy of Persephone and her internalized wrath, dangit.

2.) the Eros and Psyche plotline. it started off so promising as a parallel B-plot to H x P and then seemed to just get dropped halfway through S1 when Psyche got turned into a nymph.

3.) Echo's involvement as a double agent for Zeus. that was clearly the intention when she was introduced but then she was promptly dropped and only showed up again to say "fuck you Zeus" with zero build-up or implication that she had a change of heart. Like imagine if we actually saw her leaking info back to Zeus but then also getting closer to Hera on a personal level and realizing that she didn't want to keep snitching on her. it would have also made the 'big reveal' of Hera kissing Echo a lot more impactful because then they would have had an actual story arc.

4.) Persephone's character development into becoming the Dread Queen. Right now the story wants us to think that Persephone is somehow "better than ever" despite the fact that her version of the "Dread Queen" is being an absolute Karen. But think of how it could have been if her character de-evolution was the point, to show how Hades had corrupted her. Or if they were meant to be actual shitty people and not shitty people that the narrative was trying to convince us were good.

5.) Hades' and Minthe's relationship. It goes without saying that Minthe was wrong to turn to physical violence, but I'll die on the hill that Minthe wasn't being treated fairly by Hades, either. Those three flashback episodes in S2 leading up to Minthe getting turned into a plant were such a missed opportunity to showcase how Minthe became as bitter as she did towards Hades and what their relationship was actually like in the beginning (and why they liked each other in the first place which they very clearly did) but instead it just dragged its heels because obv Rachel didn't want people empathizing with Minthe.

6.) Ares being used as a tool for war by Zeus. It's clear being sent off to these wars is taking its toll on him and it's created a steep divide within the family, especially concerning how protective Ares is of Hera esp when it comes to how Zeus treats her.

7.) The Aphrodite / Hephaestus plotline. Good god I have no idea what the thought process was behind this one, some of the myths she kinda got away with flipping but this was the one that made the least sense to flip. There was so much potential there that was squandered, a lot of it at the expense of Aphrodite and Ares as traditionally powerful and respected gods.

8.) Hades' alcoholism. Minthe was right, simply falling for Persephone and dropping the cigars and brandy to make himself look better for her doesn't make him a changed person. If the alcoholism was linked to his trauma, why didn't we explore that more? Why couldn't we have seen him actually pursue proper recovery and have it not just be "I'm hot for the 19 year old girl but if I'm drinking constantly that'll make me look bad so I'm just gonna put on the best fake persona I can to make her fall in love with me" instead of actually getting to the root of his issues?

9.) The SA plotline. As much as I talk about how shitty it is, I have zero issue with the original depiction of it, I think it was very accurate especially when it comes to coercion. A lot of people assume SA has to be violent, kicking and screaming, begging for help, but coercive assault is often a lot quieter and more about manipulation which that scene nailed in depicting. It's just everything after that that feels completely misfired and more so for the purpose of making Hades look like a better person simply by comparing him to Apollo on the basis of "he never assaulted Persephone!" and it drives me nuts.

10.) Demeter's winter. In the most recent FP episode, while discussing it with pals, all I could really say was, "This was supposed to be a retelling of the Abduction of Persephone". And Demeter's winter is a core part of that story, one of its biggest purposes in Greek culture was using the myths to explain the creation of the seasons. Despite this being a "retelling" of the Abduction of Persephone / Hymn to Demeter, one of the most important characters in the entire myth has been reduced to, at worst, a Mother Gothel Disney villain, and at best, a pointless NPC.

[fordpinesthemanyouare]

Ford x Fem!Reader

Math Assistant Pt.1

Summary: Ford needs himself an assistant, Stanley makes an online post for him and BOOM there you are, coming to meet him for an interview at the diner.

Warnings: Erm... this is a nothing sandwich I THINK. Please let me know if I should add something

A/N: My brothers in christ please this is my first fic that I wrote on a whim, I had an idea and I started writing. I have never written fan ficiton in my life so pls be nice... also who up wit dey werm to Stanford Pines HOOBA HOOBA!!!!! Okay also I want to write SMUT for this so imagine this is like the really really really long winded plot to the porno. K thanks bye read if u want or dont i dont control you.

——————

Ford shook his head at Stanley who was seated in front of a new computer now placed in the living room, “I’m still confused on why we should be posting the ad listing “online” rather than the local paper, or putting up flyers around town.” Ford used air quotes for emphasis, he still found the whole idea strange, he liked the computer for being a tool he could use to further research. He didn't like it so much as a vessel for finding candidates for a job he was offering, the thought that he had no idea who was communicating with him unsettled him a bit. Especially knowing the kind of work he was going to be having this future assistant… well assist with.

“Because yer never going to find someone with the qualifications yer asking for in this town” Stan looked over his shoulder at a crossed arm Ford. “Hiring someone for a summer job who has a PhD in Application Math, whatever that means-“

“Applied Mathematics, Stanley” Ford interrupted.

“Whatever it is you're not going to find that here, you and fiddleford are probably the only people in this town to actually have a college degree” he said with a chuckle, turning back to the computer. He was clicking around on some website that Ford had never heard of, let alone just recently finding out what the internet was. “I'm setting up a job listing on some of the local college websites, ya know for people that are studying or just done studying”. The clicking of the mouse and the typing of keys continued as Ford ran the motion through his head, overthinking perhaps every outcome of Stanley posting that job listing. Ultimately though Ford knew he was right in that, no one with at least a degree in Applied Mathematics was going to be residing nearby.

“Just please be careful about the information you include in this job posting, try to keep it minimal as possible. If they ask more questions about specifics you can let them know that I can explain in person.”

Stan looked over his shoulder, his eyebrows slightly downturned with a smirk rising on his face, “I didn’t realize you had hired me to be your assistant, you're going to have to cough up if you want me to do this for you”. Ford groaned in annoyance of his brother, “Stanley you know I don’t know how to use any of that”.

“Exactly why you're going to want to have me help you out with this”, Stanley moved his arm to drape across the back of the chair he was in, looking more directly at him. “That’ll be twenty dollars”, he held out his hand expectantly at his twin. A beat of silence passed between the two as they had a small staring contest, both men’s brows furrowed at the other.

Ford finally reached for his back pocket after he felt he had glared at his brother enough, he slipped a twenty dollar bill from the leather wallet and practically slammed it in his hand before walking in the opposite direction without a word. While Stan on the other hand, was more than beaming when he saw Ford’s hand fall to his back pocket, Stan half shouted as Ford strode out of the room.

“You’ll thank me later when I find the perfect candidate!” He laughed as he said it and returned to more clicking and typing around the website.

Ford returned to the lab to finish up some things before the kids were scheduled to get there later in the month. When they returned from the long months at the ocean, Ford wanted nothing more than to work on something in his lab again. He loved feeling the anticipation of a project becoming something, but of course he knew he could easily get carried away. After Dipper and Mabel left last summer, before Stanley and him were going to head out, he had made a major discovery while working in the lab. He had discovered an atom that was capable of recreating a direct clone of itself and in as many atoms he could count. He continued to work on the project until Stanley was practically dragging him from the house to leave to sail around the world.

While sailing towards one of their final destinations at the end of the trip, Ford finally opened up to Stanley about his worries of falling into the same pits as before. He was worried that he would become too involved, as he already felt himself doing as they were leaving for their trip. He also desperately needed some alone time from Stanley, but he didn’t mention that to him while they were on the boat.

“What if you hired someone to help you with the project?” Stan had offered a possible solution, while he had sat in the boat looking at Ford who was deep in thought over his dilemma. “I mean obviously the last time that happened, it wasn’t great either…” He trailed off after the look on Ford’s face became apparent, regretting the thought of his old college friend.

“I know the last time wasn’t great” Stanley pushed forward, “but maybe if you have someone hired to help with the smaller stuff. Things like using the calculator or something, whatever the small stuff even is to you” he said the last part under a fake cough which earned him a glare from his brother. However, the idea wasn't… terrible, Ford thought. He pondered over the possibilities of having someone helping him out, along with having the two kids upstairs to bother him. If he were to have someone who he didn't have to know that well take on most of the minor details, the equations and such, he would be able to prioritize the best parts of the project while also having time for his family. At least, that’s what he had hoped for when Stanley initially offered the idea.

“That could be a good idea…” Ford said after taking several moments to ponder the possibilities. “I would need someone who could do advanced mathematical equations, with room for equations that could possibly extend what they know…”. Stanley just looked at him deep in thought, wondering how there could be that many things to think about, the answer seemed clear to him.

Back in the lab, Ford could hear Stanley groaning loudly about some ‘unknown error message’. He continued to monitor and take note of the atoms under his advanced microscope for a while, waiting until Stanley had further news of any postings. He wondered what his new assistant would be like, if they could have the same passion for knowledge and understanding as he does.

———

A few days had passed, Ford falling into old habits quickly, holing himself up in the lab for hours upon hours. The only time he was seen over the last 48 hours was to grab more coffee from the kitchen, he caught naps in between work, falling asleep over his piles of scrap paper filled with numbers and letters. Ford had not anticipated how much mathematical reasoning was going to follow the atom cloning discovery, he was falling behind on moving forward with more discoveries on the atoms, but over hundreds of miniscule details that needed solving kept him at the desk. Stan walked down on the 49th hour of Ford’s lock down in the basement, opening the door noisily and making as much noise as possible on the way down to let him know he was on the way. Ford was scribbling away on the nth page of scrap work, crossing out failed attempts of solving equations as Stan broached the lab floor.

Stan awkwardly cleared his throat at Ford when he didn’t turn around, even though Stanley was sure to have made enough noise on the way down. Ford turned his head over his shoulder, his body seeming to not want to move from the space it had cramped into. He raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner, as if asking ‘What? Im busy’. Stan gave a huff of annoyance before starting,

“I have about 3 applications that I thought were worth looking over, most of the idiots who applied didn’t even have math degrees. All they see in the listing is free housing and they flock like birds trying to claw their way in” he said with a slight chuckle. He strided over to Ford’s desk, as Ford leaned back finally interested in what Stan was saying. He took the papers from Stanley and began to look over them. He began thumbing through the few resumes, looking over each one carefully noting that all three people had at least some qualifications in mathematics. He looked up to Stan and gave him a tight smile.

“I appreciate you getting these for me, I’ll reach out to the ones I feel are qualified.” A beat passed between them, Ford paused for a second wondering if he should just return to work at this point or if Stanley had something else since he hasn't made any move to leave.

“I think the one on the bottom will be the best fit.” Stan said with a certain look in his face that Ford couldn’t place, as he turned to leave. Ford looked at him as he walked towards the stairs with a questioning look on his face, wondering what could have led his brother to place a preference on one of these resumes even though he didn't know what applied mathematics was. As Stan trudged up the stairs Ford called to his brother,

“I'll be sure to look at that one, thank you Stanley.” Which made Stanley pause and turn to look at Ford, a distant smile on his face as he nodded and continued up the stairs. Ford turned back to his desk and pulled the resume on the bottom up to the top, the header in nice bold letters a fine print used, he noted.

Y/N YL/N

He also took note that this was the only two-page resume offered to him, with the education list taking up most of the room. Several universities/schools were listed and his eyes read over the names and degrees that followed. He read all the way to the bottom where it listed your highschool with graduation dated in 1999. He noted this person was in their early 30’s with several bachelors degrees in several sciences, two master’s degrees in statistics and biology, and of course a Ph.D in applied mathematics. The latest graduation listed was University of Oregon masters program in statistics for April, which he noted it was now early May noting it would be fresh on the mind. He moved your resume to the back of the small stack, looking over the first two he skipped over, and honestly he wished he saved yours for last. The first two were jokes compared to the advanced knowledge you listed, he set the first aside after noting that the education list was no longer than a paragraph, and the second resume didn’t take long to set aside either as his eyes raked in the many spelling errors.

He read over your resume again looking for a way to contact you to set up the interview. He noted the phone number and email in the corner of the first page, and made to move upstairs to the kitchen phone. As he stood up however, his muscles almost molded into place from sitting at the desk, stopped him from moving further. He groaned as he began to stretch himself out, thinking about how he couldnt wait to stop looking at math problems for hours on end.

Heading back upstairs he reached the phone and quickly gazed at the microwave clock, 3:49 pm. He was glad it wasn’t later than five, as he picked up the corded receiver and began to punch in the numbers. The phone rang a few times before your voice fluttered over the phone, “Hello?”. Ford cleared his throat awkwardly, “Hello! Yes, is this Y/N YL/N? Oh it is, great, this is Stanford Pines calling about a job posting for the assistant position. I was hoping to set up an interview to discuss further details of the position.”

“I was just wondering if I would hear back from this offer,” the light voice on the other end laughed a pleasant laugh a little before continuing, “I’d love to join you for an interview regarding the position, I’m free anytime, anywhere this coming week and the next.”.

Ford offered a time for tomorrow at the local diner, which he provided the address to. The voice on the phone wished Ford a great rest of his night and that they would see him tomorrow. Ford wished them the normal pleasantries he hated to conduct while making mundane phone calls such as these. He was slightly relieved to find you weren’t completely strange, at least right off the bat. When he hung the phone back on the hanger, Stan suddenly spoke, causing Ford to jump from the lack of warning.

“So did you end up going with the one I said?” Stan looked smug as Ford met his gaze, knowing damn well he scared Ford on purpose. Ford rolled his eyes after he settled after the slight scare,

“Unsurprisingly, as you could probably assume. You shouldn’t have even bothered with the other two. One only had a few community college classes under their belt.” Ford turned to make more coffee, he figured he would stretch his legs now as he was planning on working on some more equations before the meeting tomorrow. Stan gave a hearty laugh, “She’s also quite the looker, surprised me when I was pulling resumes”. Ford gave his brother a look as he asked, “Can’t you make your picture anything you want online?”. He remembers when they got the computer last time the kids were here, Dipper had shown him how he had his profile for online DD&MD. He absolutely didn’t understand it, but Dipper assured him this summer he would teach him. Which would benefit him from not having to pay Stanley anytime he needed something done the modern way (this was not often).

“Yeah but this was on a college website, everyone has their picture I think. It looks all like student ID’s… Oh don’t look at me like that! I looked at all of their profile pictures. She just happened to have the best looking picture.” Stan finished with a shrug and a laugh. Ford had looked at him like he was crazy for looking through all the people who applied profile pictures before feeling the need to ask, “You did give me recommendations on experience, not looks correct?”.

Stan shook his head, “I know you would kill me if I passed on a math nerd over an actual good looking girl” he laughed, turning “I'm going to head out gotta meet some people, don’t wait up for me.” Stan said as he was walking out the door, grabbing the keys as he slammed the door. Ford shook his head and decided to take his brother's word for it, his mind replaying what his twin mentioned, “quite the looker” as if that could have any effect on anything. Ford thought he didn't care much at all for how a person appeared as long as they could solve these problems that's all that mattered, and maybe that they were decently pleasant to work with. He couldnt help but reflect back to the phone call, your light and airy voice filling his ear with pleasant sound, at least you didnt have a horrible voice and he could probably get used to hearing that voice more often, he thought. Ford filled his cup with coffee and headed back downstairs not giving the interview tomorrow much more thought than your voice on the phone.

—————

A/N: Yay I did it!!! yeah so what if its a nothing sandwich?? Didnt i literally say that before hand.. hope you enjoyed if ya read! <3

[itoshiexx]

scraps

synopsis: you give him all you have. it's time to collect the scraps before there is nothing left.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 797 | warnings: established relationship, angst

notes: do u guys remember the sae drabble i told y'all about some time ago? well, my depressive ass decided to post it now. i'm sorry in advance.

masterlist

the silence is deafening. it lingers thick and heavy in the air, nearly making you choke on nothing — or perhaps you’re choking on all the things you want to say that are stuck in your throat. you can feel your whole body trembling as the anxiety creeps further in, and you wrap your arms around yourself to try and bring some comfort. 

before, it was someone else’s arms that gave you peace, but lately, it has only been torment. 

it is why you’re standing in the living room of your shared apartment, staring at the teal eyes of itoshi sae while trying to hold back your own tears. it hurts. it hurts to look at him and remember the way he used one of your weaknesses against you in the argument you had minutes before, as if stabbing a wound that didn’t quite close properly, tearing the skin at the seams and turning it into a bigger, uglier, messier scar. 

you feel violated. 

perhaps you should have known better. maybe, if you listened to your mother, you wouldn’t have shown so much of yourself to sae, basking in a vulnerability that could only come back to bite you in the end. you gave him all the tools to hurt you where it stings most, and there was no one to blame but yourself for that. 

love made you foolish. you were tired. 

“i don’t think i can do this anymore, sae.” your voice is meek and hollow. only a shell of the person you used to be — the one that bled through its heart until all the life was drained. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, brow arched. defensive. ready to hurt you some more in case he became slightly uncomfortable. 

you breathe. in and out. in and out. rubbing your arm with your own hand, whispering to yourself under your breath that everything was going to be alright. even if it felt like nothing but that. 

“you… you’re hurting me, sae,” you manage to say with the lump in your throat. “you have been for a while. and i try to be better, but i… i can’t do this alone. and you’re not even trying.”

the tears welled up in your lash line start to fall again, and at this point, you know it’s useless to try and stop them. you also know they are the only thing that keep you sane, even if it feels like you’re losing your mind at every breath you take. 

sae doesn’t say anything, and you actually consider that a blessing. you don’t know how much more of his venomous words you can take before it destroys you completely from the inside out. something tells you his toxin has been spreading through your body for a while, although you only started to notice recently, when the fights got worse.

how long has he been killing you?

the weight of this question is enough to spike your anxiety once again, and you dig your nails on the skin of your arms to try to detain these overwhelming feelings, squeezing your eyes shut.

you nearly jump when you feel his strong arms circling your shoulders, bringing your head to his chest. you squirm and try to fight it — fight him —, but sae is stronger and more stubborn than you could ever be, and all you can do is cry harder and blow weak punches to his torso. 

“i’m sorry,” he says. it’s not the first time. the words make your stupid heart flutter with hope, but the hurt brings you back to reality. it’s not the first time, and he has done nothing to change for the better. he never fucking listens.

“you’re so mean,” you cry, ceasing the punches due to your lack of strength. you can barely keep standing, and you’re sure that his hold is the only thing keeping you from falling. “why are you so mean to me, sae?”

he’s silent again. you keep going. “i gave you my everything. i loved you with all i had. i-i opened up to you like never before, and you… you just…”

your stomach sinks. there aren’t even words to express what you’re feeling nor what he’s doing to you — the many ways he has been destroying what you spent years trying to put back together.

you were tired. 

in a final attempt to save what’s left of you, you raise your head from his chest to look deep into his aquamarine eyes. you want him to look at yours, too. 

“sae,” your voice is nothing more than a hollow whisper. you take a deep breath, garning all the strength and courage you can.

and then, you plea for the last time:

“please, give back what’s left of my heart.”

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[youremyheaven]

something that's always bothered me about conversations of mental health and well being is that, it's incredibly hard to isolate one's mind as a site of conflict and "treat" it on its own. a person is more than their family, genetics or upbringing. their environment, the culture & society they live in, their lifestyle, the kind of food they eat and the kind of work they do/don't do, are all so influential in affecting a person's well being and frame of mind. if u eat a shit ass diet full of store bought processed food and junk and get no sunlight and don't have any greenery around u, of course ur going to be fucking miserable. what the fuck is a pill gonna do about that??? so that u can keep showing up to ur dead end job and let them profit off ur labour?

capitalist narratives about mental illness are always about keeping someone medicated enough to function well and keep the system in its place and capitalist narratives of mental well being encourage a happy parade of consumerism

yk who benefits from all this?? not you. you eating sea moss for breakfast isn't going to fix you bc beyond individual responsibility and seLf cAre, systemic changes like a 4 day work week and gee idk BETTER PAY would significantly enhance the quality of ur life and make u want to kys less

it's radical to live a slow and sustainable (and sustainability applies to the individual as much as the environment, u need to live a life that doesn't make u crash and burn every few weeks) life in a world that demands that u numb urself and keep fucking going 🔥

and I'd rather be a fucking radical than blame my parents for how my life turned out to be. bc if the system were fucking built differently it wouldn't fucking matter.

western psychology has ppl brainwashed when it's fundamentally created as a tool to suppress the masses and I will die on this hill

[hinamie]

i normally don’t contribute much of my opinions on chapter content n themes bc a. i think my role in fandom spaces is that of a fanartist and I want to keep my art at the forefront, and b. I am Insecure about how little of the manga I have actually consumed and don’t think I have a solid foundation on which i can offer any coherent arguments or insight. generally I like to leave the long meta 2 people who have been genuinely invested in delving into the manga with the intent of analyzing it . y'all do gods work u are the reason i am not flying through this series completely blind

that being said, i am not here to give criticism on pacing or story cohesion bc quite simply, that is not my wheelhouse. i do, however, want to offer my 2 cents on the concept of choosing to live for others as someone who (like a lot of people is the vibe i’m getting) also struggles w depression and self-worth issues and sees aspects of themselves in megumi as a result. i want to reiterate tht this is not an analysis, these r just my gojo voice personal feelings n u r allowed 2 feel differently based on your own experience :)

let me just say first of all that I can 100% empathize with people wanting to see megumi choose to live fr himself after a lifetime spent in a system notorious fr stripping people of their agency and turning them into tools. i think in a perfect world he Does come to the realization that he’s worth living for. but i also think that him /not/ having crossed that bridge yet is also a very valid n realistic outcome. he's a kid, he's just had the worst experience of his life, he's traumatized and then some -- i only have a bachelor's in psychology and god knows i'm no doctor but personally i wouldn't call that a mental space where self-love is likely to stick

it’s hard to claw yourself out from rock bottom. to expect someone to immediately be able to make the transition from being in the worst mental state of their life to realizing that they are worthy as a person is a tall order that i honestly don't think many people wld b able to fulfil. /I/ certainly haven’t been, and living for others has honestly been what’s kept me going for a long fucking time. even when I’m not necessarily at a low point, I still rly struggle w liking myself n thinking i’m a good person, but what’s been a genuine lifeline fr me when i can't love myself is to direct that love Outwards. If nothing else I know that I have things I can create, and things I can offer others. I've spent countless hours forcing myself to acknowledge that, no matter how much i don’t believe them, if the people around me insist that they see something of value in me or in my work; something tht makes them love me Despite, then that alone is worth staying alive for.

i personally (although i can see how others wld disagree) don’t view the 'living for others' frame of mind as waiting for someone to save you, but rather as holding out hope that there is More out there than your own self-loathing will let you believe. For megumi, it wld seem that his something more was the people he cares about. Yuuji gave him the agency to choose whether or not to keep living, and megumi made that decision of his own accord, which fr someone at their absolute lowest is still a huge achievement! there was agency in that decision, there was selfishness--regardless of the underlying motivation it proved that he /wants/ to live. little side note but i think that megumi Making a selfish decision to live for others' sake should also give a bit of hope that he does have it in him to eventually be able to b equally selfish in the value he places on himself.

anyway that's what i got source: i'm depressed . n look i get that with so little of jjk left, it Is frustrating that we probably Won't see megumi come to the conclusion that he's worthy and that he should live for and love himself. but at the same time i don't think that his decision to keep living for others should b condemned either, bc as someone who has also yet to cross that bridge, sometimes that rly is the first step

[yoitsjay]

I got u bestie, some awkward lover fluff coming right up.

Something New

Pairings: Tech x fem jedi! Reader

Summary: you and Tech have feelings for each other, though as a jedi romantic attachments have always been forbidden to you, and as a clone Tech wasn't allowed, nor did he ever find someone he was so drawn too. But now that the jedi order and the republic is gone, you are free to explore... as inexperienced as you both are.

Warnings: cute fluff, awkward kissing, like two teenagers who've never been romantically involved before. Cute date, we love Tech.

Word count: 1,297

A/n: I won't do smut unless specifically requested, and I do take smut requests for future reference.

Maybe it was the fact that Jedi weren’t allowed to love someone, or weren’t really allowed to have many friends. Yet despite that there always seemed to be something that a jedi was attached to, whether it be a memento from their homeworld, or from a citizen off world or even on Coruscant. Some jedi were very traditional, and you knew this, but you also knew plenty of jedi who held attachments to various people, and yet, they could let that person go when the time called to let them go. If that makes any sense.

You were not one of those jedi.

It was something that the council tried to remove from your mind, the inability to let personal possessions go, but every attempt they did make was always unsuccessful.

You were defective, but you were an extraordinary warrior with skill that they could not replace, so the only thing they could really do to get rid of you, but also keep you around was to pair you with a Commando clone unit that was also defective.

That was the council’s biggest mistake.

Because now here you were, head over heels in love, or at least what you assumed was love, since you had never really felt it before- with one of the defective clones from your unit.

No it was not Hunter, as much as you cared for him, and thought he was handsome, he hadn’t swayed your affections quite like Tech has.

You had been fighting alongside the bad batch basically since they were first put into action, which has been a couple years now, but after Kaller, after the clone wars had ended, you could feel things change.

And you started noticing more things, less oblivious things than what you had noticed before, and they were all coming from Tech.

At first there were such miniscule things that you almost didn’t catch, like the way his gloved fingers would brush against yours as you handed him a tool, or the way he had started leaning over you slightly whenever you were piloting the marauder.

But then there were the more obvious things, like him finding wild (and safe) flowers from different planets you traveled to, and he'd always give to you, every single time without fail. The flowers then turned to small gifts, and inanimate objects or pieces of jewelry. He even gave you new beads to decorate your lightsaber or hair with.

You asked him why he was giving you all these things, and asked if he wanted something in return or if he needed a favor, any way you could repay him for being so kind. All he did was brush it off and say it was nothing.

So you asked the next best person.

Hunter.

-

“He’s- he’s what?” Hunter asked, having nearly spit out his caf the minute you approached and told Hunter what Tech was doing. You sighed, and repeated yourself, looking at Hunter expectantly.

Hunter cleared his throat and glanced around before he set his caf down on top of gonky, who just happened to be nearby, and Hunter was practically grinning.

“What is it Hunter? Spit it out.” You ordered, though there was no real authority on your voice, sure you used to be their general, but Hunter was always the leader.

Hunter let out a soft chuckle before he stood up from his seat, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Tech is- well… he’s courting you… It's a mandalorian tradition, and he thought it was the best way to try and get his affections for you out in the air.” Hunter explained, and you press your lips into a thin line and look away for a moment, as if thinking.

Then you can’t stop the smile from growing on your face and you practically race off the Marauder to where Tech is working on repairs. When he hears your footsteps he looks up, only to grunt as he is tackled to the ground, his tools now dropped as he lays on his back, staring up at a grinning idiot…

His grinning idiot.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Tech asked immediately, rather than letting any other thought cross his mind, especially the one where your perched on top of him and he could easily just-

No- bad Tech, don’t think like that-

“I love you too!” You blurt out loudly before you can stop yourself, and Tech’s eyes narrow in confusion, before widening as he realizes what you were talking about, which means you found out about his courting methods…

“I’m sorry I should have told you from the beginning that I was harboring- wait what?”

You loo0ked down at Tech, tilting your head slightly as you chuckled, moving off of him and onto the ground in front of him, pulling him up so he was sitting in front of you.

“I said I like you too, Tech, i’ve- god i’ve been feeling- i don’t even know what- for you- since my first month working with you in the clone wars- i just… well- i never said anything because it was forbidden…” You trailed off, looking away from Tech, noticing that he was just staring at you.

A few beats of silence and you look up at Tech again.

“Please say something Tech, i-”

Before you could say another word, tech is the one that lunges for you next, his gloved hands grasping at the meat of your thighs as he tugs you close to him. You hadn’t noticed, but Tech had taken off his helmet and set it neatly on the ground beside him, so the minute his lips were on yours, you jumped.

He went to pull away, to apologize but you didn’t let him, grasping his face in your hands, tugging him right back into you.

The kiss was very awkward, very inexperienced, and was a clash of tongue and teeth, which you assumed couldn’t be right… Despite that, as you pulled away from Tech, you both were quite breathless, unwilling to remove your hands from each other.

Your soft laugh was the first to break the silence, followed by his amused chuckles, which then lead to you bursting out in laughter as you pressed your face into tech’s chestplate.

“God that was horrible.” You muttered, looking up at Tech, who was smiling slightly. “Indeed, it seems like we are both inexperienced when it comes to this… I do not like that feeling.” He mused, and another chuckle left your lips, grabbing his hand as he stood up and offered it to you.

You got up to your feet with Tech’s help, and now had your arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders, feeling his hands on the dip in your waist.

“We can always practice, do some research.” You suggested softly, tilting your head as you stared up at him, seeing that little smile return to his lips.

“That is an excellent idea, Y/n, i would like to begin immediately.” he stated, and with that he was dragging you into the Marauder and to his bunk, where he promptly removed his armor as you climbed up the ladder, chasing after you as soon as his armor was off.

He closed the curtain, and the little bunk area lit up under a soft orange glow.

Your giggles could be heard throughout the Marauder, which was quite annoying for Hunter after a while so he ended up leaving… not before he shouted out a quick goodbye.

“Where a condom!” Hunter called out as he exited the ramp which promptly closed behind him as he exited the Marauder…

And that only made your and Tech’s laughter worse…

Though now you had the whole Marauder to test out yours and Tech’s experiments…

You couldn’t wait to start.

➺

Tech tag:

@chibai06 @thebadbatchfan

Tbb:

@only-my-unexistent-fiances

All:

@moomoog017

[serqphites]

hiiii katie!! i’ve been in a massive longlegs phase (mostly bc of lee let’s be honest) and your blog has been a GODSEND 🤍 i’ve been thinking of writing a lee fic for a while but i had a lil idea that i wanted to send your way 🤭

i cannot get over the idea of wife!lee with r on a beach trip—especially if her wife fucking loooves it. she’s not a huge fan of going to the beach (her autistic ass does not fuck with sand) but she’ll go every couple of years bc ofc she’s going to deal with it for her woman!!!!! she’d sit on the beach watching r letting herself get absolutely DEMOLISHED by waves and she thinks it’s cutie af. she will (VERY reluctantly) get in the water once her twice but if something touches her leg? she’s screaming like he arm is getting chopped off she would HATE THATTT.

lol that’s all!! i just love ur blog and i would love to see u expand on this because ur like The Lee Harker Blog Ever for me :) much love 🤍🤍

— gracie

hello gracie !! oh my god PLEASE write a lee fic i will reblog it until the day that i die. also so honoured you wanted to send this my way hello?? i could cry 🫶 AND THEN YOU ALSO SAID IM THE LEE HARKER BLOG FOR YOU?? sobbing throwing up rolling around on the floor literally deceased

—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—

lee fucking HATESSSS the beach (girl me too) her autistic ass can’t handle it. the sand sticking to her? AHHHHH. the water that’s freezing and lowkey stinks? FUCKKKKK. yeah no this really isn’t for her.

except for the fact it now is because her wife loves it arguably more than she loves her!!

god i can just picture it now, you’re walking onto the beach so fucking happy to finally be back after not going for ages (lee cried and locked herself inside the house the last time you tried to go), and then there’s lee… 🧍‍♀️ girly is just stood on the pathway that leads up to the sand, your bags and folded up towels in hand as she refuses to take just one little step forward onto the sand.

you have to push her to the spot you’d like your towels placed

lee sits on her towel and doesn’t move, she won’t even uncross her legs. she’s just sat awkwardly leaning over the towel so she can make you a sandcastle <3 she’s using various children’s tools she’d ordered from amazon to build, picking up the shells around her to turn them into decoration.

she’s so proud of herself when you come back from the water for a drink 😭 “honey! look what i made you” and she’s all shyyyy

also lee is 100% the kind of person to write your initials in a heart in the sand, and not small too she wants it to be seen by everyone, just so they all get the message (aka “stop staring at my wife’s ass you pervs”).

ice creams on the beach!!! lee is so mad at the wasps swarming her LMAOOO you’re actually petrified so you’ve moved, poor lee is trying to be brave and impress you but if they get too close she drops her act to scream like a child.

after hours of trying to convince her to get into the water, she finally agrees! you lead her to the water (despite her purposefully moving slower than a sloth) and let go of her hand to make your way in, assuming she’d follow.

🧍‍♀️”i don’t want to :/”

SHES SO CUTE I CANT IM LITERALLY ABT TO CRY JUST THINKING ABT HER

“come on baby you can do it! it’s just water!” you attempt to encourage her, and surprisingly it works. lee veryyy slowly starts inching her way towards the water, a wave crashing into her ankle just as she does so. she makes various weird noises, you know when you eat something that feels like it’s just come straight out of a volcano? it sounds something like that.

but hey she’s doing it! she’s walking towards you with a big smile on her face, your expression mirroring her own. that is until lee feels something slimy wrapping around her leg, imagine the scream she lets out when she glances down to discover there’s a green alien trying to worm its way inside of her (there’s seaweed on her leg).

my girl runs for the hills. screaming like she’s being tortured before dropping onto the sand and swatting her attacker away (which is again, seaweed).

you make your way over to her in an instant, removing the seaweed from her leg as you stifle a laugh. the woman, your wife, now caked head to toe in sand… even the poor girls eyelashes have sand in them.

“can we go home please?” poor baby :(

once you’ve returned to the comfort of your own home, lee gets the most cuddles she’s ever gotten from you in her life. despite her silliness (not silliness, she was very viciously attacked by aliens) you’re still so incredibly proud of her for facing her fears and going on a fun little adventure with you.