#we went to conventions together
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cybermagusnex · 2 years ago
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I showed my roommate the super old videos of my friends and I from high school that are still on YouTube. I've been In My Feels since last night.
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corrodedbisexual · 2 years ago
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Don't mind me, just going through a whole new level of mental breakdown at that iconic CC scene after reading an old interview of Joseph's.
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smashwolfen · 7 months ago
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Audhhfkfkdhrkfjdjs the con was small but very fun! Was hella nervous being out even with my small amount of dressing up, but a lot of people complimented my mask and my diamond clan sweater(even the strangers on the street well after we left the venue!) and they loved seeing the plushies poking out of my bag matching my mask I HAD A LOT OF FUN AND FEEL LIKE I COULD TOTALLY DO IT AGAIN ELSEWHERES!!!! Once I build up funds to go of course XD
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I didnt spend too too much while there but got some fun lil things!
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I dunno how bud did it but those are wood burned/pressed(?) versions of the pokemon cards, and they were worried doing a random trainer was a bad idea, little did they know ADAMAN WAS THE BEST CHOICE FOR ME PERSONALLY!! Snagged 2 offical pokemon pins because of course, a lil 3D printed fidget spider friend, and a Vivian sticker! My buddy I went with was very much a confidence booster im so glad i went!
OH AND ALSO WHILE WE WERE OUT THIS FINALLY ARRIVED IN THE MAIL!!!!!
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Its actually pretty hefty for the size BUT YEAH BUDDY I GOT AN OFFICAL HISUIAN POKEBALL REPLICA BABEYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!! THE PLA COLLECTION GROWSSS!!!!!!!
The sweater was made by @cecilioque god thank you so much for making such a perfect sweater to wear to a first con!!!! Nintendo wishes they did it before you ;w;
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neolxzr · 1 year ago
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im back from anime convention today ^_^
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shippy-from-apocalypse · 2 years ago
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Soulmates can be Fun and they have some REALLY creative prompts, that being said they're usually not my Cup of tea
I get frustrated because they have SO MUCH potential (and when they're really explored it can make GREAT stories) but mostly it stays surface level
Curious, I haven’t really seen any real trend among aspec people and the ship tropes they do like, however I think I kinda seen a trend in what they dislike. So in the tags tell me if you’re aspec (ace and/or aro) and if you dislike soulmates, and I mean the most straightforward romantic non subverted kind (but if there are versions you like feel free to elaborate)
#i mean the idea of soulmates can be cute#but usually nah#i really don't like suuuper conventional soulmate ideas?#if im reading fic i usually exclude the soulmate AU tag#but like if someone whose taste i trust sends me a soulmate fic i'll read it#HOWEVER#i really do eat up the concept of soulmates as like#In every Universe we chose to be together#or maybe the whole You complete me because we are the best versions of eachother when we are together#so i guess i like soulmates just not the specific There is one person who you are destined to love (here's a physical manifestation proof#i get the appeal tho#it just gets kinda ruined for me the moment it's hinted as ''it's bound to happen here's an outside force to show you how much it's fate''#does that make sense?#that being said subversive soulmate ideas are THE SHIT#soulmates but they MAKE EACHOTHER WORSE? OHOHOHO#soulmates but they choose to not end up together??#I WAS READING THIS FIC ONCE AND IT WAS HINTED THE MAIN CHARACTERS WERE SOULMATES#(they can't be sure because plot shenanigans)#it's not just about that the fic but by the end they find out they were in fact NOT soulmates#and they chose to tattoo their soulmate mark thingies on eachother??? THAT'S PEAK ROMANCE RIGHT THERE#im ace but not aro#(btw i have read few published books with soulmates as well but the ones i did were boring as all fuck#also when they make the person without a soulmate to be sad and miserable? big nope#i have read exactly one good thing with this and it was my friend's story#but the whole point was the character to have an arc realizing she Didn't need a soulmate and that her life was fulfilling as it was#it's funny because said friend Didn't even know back then she was aro years later after she came out we were looking back on this#she went all Wait Hold On A Second Now#the writing is kinda wonky but it still holds up well enought jfjskdjs
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werewolfbneimitzvah · 8 months ago
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vent post. There are two stories i was told in my teenage years that even before i had a real concept of trans issues made me uninterested in discussing the supposed sacredness and safety of separated sex-based spaces.
First, when i was like 13 or 14 my PE teacher told us about a time she went to a women's public restroom, some guy was hanging out outside the bathrooms, she didn't think anything of it, went to the bathroom, and he walked in after her and like, creeped on her over the top of the stall. She was ok, she wasn't telling us this to scare us, just telling us what to do in situations like that (and iirc she was telling the whole co-ed class this, not just girls, bc it's useful for everyone), but this taught me immediately and forever that there's nothing actually keeping these spaces separate really, that anyone can be a creep in any space, and that establishing a space like that as for women only isn't actually particularly useful for safety.
Second, when i was 16 i was at an anime convention, a friendly acquaintance of mine and i ended up in conversation outside, and he showed me his bare wrist and told me he'd been kicked out. A female friend of his had stepped in dog poop outside, and between that and the stress of the convention she'd had a bit of an emotional breakdown, so being her friend, he started comforting her and ushered her into the women's restroom so they could wash the poop off her shoe together. And because he was a man who went into the women's bathroom, he got kicked out, no matter that he was doing something that was actually beneficial to a woman. Punishing a woman's friend for supporting her was supposed to... protect her somehow? This made it clear to me that a no-exceptions rule separating the sexes like that wasn't actually inherently good for everyone.
And this isn't even getting into me as a child needing to accompany my younger sister to the restroom when we were out with just my dad because she had certain support needs past the age he felt comfortable bringing her into the men's room with him. And what if I'd been born a boy, or she'd been the first born? Who's helping her then?
And of course even putting all this aside, we should always prioritize compassion and support anyway. But i never even needed to meet a trans person to know that "keeping men out of women's bathrooms" is silly nonsense. But trans people also need to pee anyway and as humans they have that right, so leave them the fuck alone. your precious women's restroom is just a fucking room with a door, holy shit give it a fucking rest, if someone is attacking you in the bathroom that's bad and if someone is in there to pee that's good and it doesn't fucking matter what their junk is or was when they were born.
a woman could have done the exact same thing to my PE teacher and it would have also been bad no matter how "supposed" to be in the restroom she was, and no one should ever be punished for helping a crying friend wash their shoe.
Anyway i know I'm speaking to like-minded folks here, i just think about those two stories literally every time bathroom gender shit comes up and it pisses me off.
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madlori · 4 months ago
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On being an older fangirl
I was probably 10 years old when I first conceived of what was, looking back, fanfiction. Me and my best friend would lie in bed together on sleepovers and I'd make up stories about what happened after the end of our favorite book, "The Westing Game." She'd ask me for more stories, and I'd tell her more, inventing them as I went along. "Then what?" she'd say.
I was 14 when I went to my first convention. I had discovered Star Trek: The Next Generation. It was 1987, and my youth pastor was a huge Trekkie. He took me to a one-day crappy Creation con, but it was amazing to me. I met Nichelle Nichols. My dad showed me the Trek movies. He and I watched TNG together.
When I went to college in 1991, my dad used to videotape TNG episodes onto VHS tapes and mail them to me, so I could keep watching (I didn't have TV in my dorm room).
By the time I was a senior, we had Trek watching parties in the dorm lounge, where the TV had cable. Star Trek: Voyager had started up, and I wrote a column about it for the college newspaper. I joined a mailing list about it, with people in it that I still know today.
I got my first computer that could go online in 1995. I was on newsgroups. I discovered Doctor Who. I went to Trek conventions where we still passed around fanzines containing fic and art and smutty K/S fan creations.
Then it was Harry Potter. Then there were websites. Then there was Geocities, where we could all make our own little spots. We organized them into webrings. We talked on newsgroups and mailing lists. There were fanfic archives. Then there was fanfiction.net.
Then...there was LiveJournal. And we could interact in entirely new ways. We could form communities, and debate things, and fight over canon, and get into ship wars. On LiveJournal, I met my best friend of 22 years. I was in her wedding. She's my sister of the heart (which is what she calls me).
Then there was Tumblr. And Twitter. And now there's Discord. But it's all the same.
I am the same.
I am still that little girl who made up fanfiction in her head to entertain her best friend. I am still the one who was amazed to find communities on the internet - which was so new, so raw, so uncommodified - where others like me could meet. I found there people to meet in real life.
I am still that twentysomething going to her first major convention, being told that someone loved my fic, being asked about my writing process.
I am still that thirtysomething watching something I wrote blow up. Seeing friends from other fandoms find me in new ones, finding them there, too. Forgetting which fandom I know someone from, because I've known them for twenty years.
I still know some of the people who created those early websites, those mailing lists, those archives. I still meet people in new fandoms who say "Oh, I read your fic in [fandom] fifteen years ago!" There's no feeling quite like having someone remember something you wrote for that long. Or meeting someone whose fic meant a lot to YOU, or who you talked with on rec.arts.drwho.creative in 1997.
Aging in fandom is a gift. Being middle-aged in fandom is a joy. Having people who still read what I write and ask "Then what?" is a blessing.
It breaks my heart that so many people see it as something to be ashamed of, when it is one of my life's greatest gifts.
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wilwheaton · 5 months ago
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When I was a kid, and I was 14, 15, 16 years old, my home life was terrible. I was really sad and abused and having a terrible time at home, and the only place I was happy and felt safe was at work. I went to work and I loved my Star Trek family, and they loved me and I loved being there. And then the work we did, people were mean to me about it. People who didn't know me, who I didn't know, got on what was Usenet at the time, and they were awful. They wrote angry letters to Starlog, and they were really mean to me. They were cruel to this child at conventions and stuff in ways that would never fly today. I think that a narrative took hold — “Nobody likes Wesley.” That is empirically false. That is completely unsupported by decades of data. The truth is the kids who Wesley was meant to bring into Star Trek loved him! A lot of them grew up to work on Star Trek, right? [Laughs] What happened is, at that time, the kids who loved it weren't writing letters, they were not using Usenet. They didn't even have modems! They were just loving the show. It took me 30 fucking years to hear them and meet them and know, “Hey, buddy, you're not the person your dad said you were. You're not the person that those fans made you believe you were. You're that guy, and he is you, and there's a bunch of you together. You inspired a generation of kids.” I am so relieved and happy for my younger self. I wish I could just, like, pop through time real quick and just whisper in my ear, “Buddy, I know how much it hurts right now, but I promise you there's a day coming where it's really okay. You're not even gonna remember this.”
Wil Wheaton Reacts to the Positive Reception of Wesley Crusher's Star Trek Return: "It’s 35 Years Overdue"
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moonchildstyles · 19 days ago
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I know angel is innocent, but do you think that if Harry had to go away for business or family or something, that she might 🥸 you know.... 🥸🥸 ˢᵉˣᵗ ʰᶦᵐ
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—————
(Y/N) knuckled at her eye, attempting to get the sleep out so she could see Harry clearly. It would be the last time she'd see him for the next week, she wanted to remember every detail. 
"Stop," Harry murmured, gently grasping her wrist and pulling her hand from her eye. "You're gonna hurt yourself doing that, love." 
"Sorry," she yawned, blinking up at him. It was way too early to be awake, but she wasn't going to let him leave without a proper send off. 
"'S alright," he sighed, shifting his hold on her wrist until she was gathered against his chest. He dropped a kiss to her head, voice muffled against her hair when he said, "Jus' don't forget while 'm gone, 'kay?" 
"I'll try," she relented, keening into the warmth radiating from his chest, "What time do you land?" 
"It'll be a little after nine, I think. Y'think you'll be awake then?" 
"Maybe," she sighed, "I've got to feed Evie, so probably." 
He hugged her a bit tighter at the mention of his first born. "Will y'send me a picture when y'do? I miss her already." 
"I will," (Y/N) promised, pulling away from where her cheek had nestled against his shoulder. Blinking up at him, she told herself not to cry when he matched her gaze. It wasn't fair that he looked so cozy and warm, pliant with his own sleep, and was planning on leaving her all by herself for the next week. "Will you send me a picture of you when you land? Because I miss you already." 
It was a silly request, one that was supposed to be lighthearted—for the both of them—but only served to make her bottom lip quiver by the time the words hung between them. A pout crossed Harry's features. Dropping his bag, his now free hand landed on the back of her head, cradling her snug against him. 
"Baby," he crooned, "I miss y'too, you know that. We've never been apart like this before, have we?" Only a pathetic shake of her head was offered. "But we'll be alright. Jus' call me when y'need me, and I'll answer. You might even like having the place to yourself for a little—won't even want me to come home." 
Her eyes watered at his teasing allegation. "I'll always want you to be home with me." 
A soft sigh escaped from his chest. "Oh, love. I'll be home soon, I promise. 'S only a week." 
"I know," she blubbered, "Just wish I could go with you." 
"But you're being responsible and going to class and studying instead. Not something to be sad about at all." He pet his hand down the back of her head, gentle fingers brushing the back of her neck and warming her skin. "Besides, y'don't want to be at these conferences. They're boring." 
"Then why are you going?" If they were so boring, maybe she could convince him to stay in bed with her for the whole week instead of working.
"Gotta be on top of everything, love," he said, just as he had every other time she asked why this conference was so important, "Can't be the best tattooer in the world if I never go and see what's new." 
She deflated. He was using her words against her, the praises she would mean whether or not he went to these conferences and conventions. 
"'S gonna be alright, darling. Really," he insisted, his tone growing serious as he cupped the nape of her neck and pulled her back just enough to get a look at her. "I'll miss you, but I'll be home before y'know it. Then we can spend the whole weekend together before I go back to work." 
That did sound nice. Especially since she was more than sure she would be able to convince him to order in and eat in bed with her. 
"Okay," she relented, voice a bit watery, "Love you, H." 
His features grew soft. Without the aid of his signature eyeliner, there were only soft edges to his eyes, matching the soft curl of his lips. With his hair pulled back, she could see every plane of his face where she was used to seeing a stern edge or cutting line. But not when it came to her; everything was soft when he looked at his love.
"I love you too, (Y/N)," he murmured, ducking his head to press a simple kiss to her lips. "I'll text y'when I get to the airport, but please go back to sleep if you're still tired." 
(Y/N) chased after her, catching him in another kiss, this one a bit harder and more urgent. Their last kiss to be shared for the next week, and she was going to make it worth it. Even if she did start feeling her eyes begin to burn and her nose warm. 
His hand on the back of her neck shifted until he was cradling her cheek in his palm. He let her take what she needed, slotting his lips to hers with her bottom one between his two. It was sweet and giving, the way she sank into him, eager to get as much of her fill as she could manage in the short time frame. 
With his head much clearer, Harry drew away first, offering a smattering of pecking kisses before leaving the warmth of her presence. 
"Gonna make me miss my flight if you're not careful," he teased, offering one more press of his lips to the bridge of her nose. 
(Y/N) canted her head. That wasn't such a bad idea, actually. If he missed his flight, it would be way too much work to reschedule and possibly update his accommodations—
"No, I know what you're thinking, love," Harry smiled, shaking his head as he interrupted her line of thought, "I've still got to go." 
She made a show of deflating, taking the route of attempting to make him laugh instead of giving into the lump forming in her throat. 
"Fine," she sighed, as if he had punctured all of the air from her, "This time, I'll let you go. But you might not be so lucky the next time." 
"So generous, my lovebug is," Harry murmured, hugging her extra tight as he fit his face into her neck. "I love you so much, baby. I'll let y'know when I land." 
"Okay," she whispered, not trusting her voice to go any louder, "I love you, too." 
He pulsed his arms around her for a lingering moment before doing the hard part of untangling from her limbs. She felt decidedly colder once he left the space of her bubble. (Y/N) could only wrap her arms around her middle to keep herself from reaching for him.
She watched as he slung his bag over his shoulder. The roses on his neck bristled as he stood to the full of his height, hand resting on the doorknob. 
"I'll see you soon, baby," he promised, a sad smile on his lips, "Promise." 
"See you soon, H." 
(Y/N) followed him to the garage, watching as he backed his car out and onto the street. She waved at him on the off chance he might be looking at her, until he most definitely was too far away to catch even a speck of her. Getting out of the chill, she made her way back inside and to their shared bedroom.
 It was then, with her head on his pillow, the sheets scented of him with Harry's kitten at her feet, that she let her tears fall. 
While it wasn't the waterfall she feared she was going to shed when he was still here, it was enough to heat her skin and slick down her cheeks in rivers. She missed him already, not used to being in this bed without her Harry at her side. 
Having heard her sniffling and the incessant wiping of her sleeve over her cheeks, Evie left her post at (Y/N)'s feet and found the perfect spot to curl up right on the pillow. With her pink nose, she sniffed over (Y/N)'s tear-stained cheeks, whiskers tickling her skin. 
"Hi, Evie," (Y/N) blubbered, "Do you miss your daddy already too?" 
Evie didn't do anything other than deposit a soft lick to the tip of (Y/N)'s nose. A small smile curled (Y/N)'s salted lips. 
"At least we have each other." 
Evie chirped at that.
—————
"And, what did she say after that?" 
Patting her moisturizer into her skin, (Y/N) let out a heavy sigh as she dropped her eyes to her phone screen. Illuminated in the pixels was Harry's tired face, free of any eyeliner with his hair pulled back and a headband keeping the stray strands from brushing his eyes. A white fluffy pillow was held to his chest, taking up the bottom third of the view, his chin resting on the edge as he looked at the camera. At her. 
"Nothing. She didn't say anything the rest of the shift. It was creepy." 
Harry barked out a laugh at her words. "Not even to you?" 
"No," (Y/N) affirmed, "Even when I said bye before I left, she just nodded at me." 
At this, Harry's lips thinned. "That's not very nice. 'M sorry she acted like that today, love. She didn't hurt your feelings or anything, right?" 
The shake of her head had his features loosening in relief. "No, I'm okay. I just don't really want to go in tomorrow if she's also going to be there; I'll have to hide in the autobiographies if she is." 
"That might be fun, though," Harry started, interrupting himself with a yawn, "Easy work."
"Too easy," she pointed out, wiping the remainder of the lotion on her hands, "I'll fall asleep." 
"That doesn't sound so bad," he murmured, his own eyes falling closed in a lingering blink. 
Picking up her phone, (Y/N)'s lips puffed into a pout. She had been looking forward to this evening's FaceTime, the same way she had been the last three days, but it didn't feel right to keep him on the phone when he was so clearly tired. 
"Do you want me to let you go, H? I don't want to keep you up." 
He was quick to blink his eyes open, forcing them wide and awake as he stitched his attention on her. "No, no, 's alright. I want to talk to you, baby." 
Her own lips curled into a soft grin as she started back to their bedroom. Evie was already in her new favorite spot—right where her daddy usually slept. "I want to talk to you too, but I know you had a busy day. We can talk tomorrow." 
"But I miss you today." 
When she laid her head down on her pillow, phone in hand, the view on her screen framed an illusion that they were sharing a bed. Only a pillow between them. 
"I miss you, too," she murmured ardently, "But I feel bad." 
"Don't feel bad," he insisted, denying as if there weren't bags under his eyes, "It really wasn't that busy of a day—jus' lots of talking." 
"One of your least favorite things," she pointed out as his eyes fell closed once more.
"Not when 's you." 
At that, (Y/N) paused. Her heart pattered in her chest, blood rushing through her veins with heart-shaped cells. He was too good at arguing with her like this. 
When she didn't immediately answer, she saw his eyes open. Half-lidded, they landed directly on her. He could easily tell just what kind of reaction he was drawing out of her, her face an open book just for him to read. 
"Did I win?"
A sheepish nod was his answer. 
Hunkering down into the fluff of his hotel bed, Harry let a lazy smile cover his features. If she squinted her eyes just so, the illusion worked well enough to imagine she was lying in bed next to him—a small version of him, but Harry nonetheless. 
"I'll stay with y'until y'fall asleep, love," he murmured, just voice a comforting rumble through her phone. Next time, she decided, she was going to have her headphones on, wishing to hear every note of his voice. 
"Thank you," she peeped, grateful even if a little guilty that he was going to stay awake when he was clearly so tired. 
Through his cracked eyes, she could see affection swimming through the shattered green of his iris. "Tomorrow's going to be better, love. I know it," he insisted, broken up by a short yawn, "And if 's not, 'm catching a flight home." 
A huff of laughter fell across the cover of her pillow. "Now you're going to make me hope I have a bad day." 
Harry's grin only widened. Dimples deeply dented his cheeks. "Don't say that," he pushed, though he didn't sound particularly convincing. 
Looking at him, even made of speakers and pixels, she doubted she would have an easy time falling asleep tonight. Not when she had him right here with her, as close as he could be. 
—————
Posing in the mirror, (Y/N) tugged the end of her skirt to flare it around her thighs. She snapped a photo of herself in the mirror, her phone partially covering her face in the reflection. 
Once the photo generated on her phone screen, (Y/N) relaxed from her pose and took a look at the shot. With a chunky, slouchy cream sweater covering her top—a borrowed piece, of course, from the opposite side of the closet—she had taken a leap and chosen to wear a skirt despite the chilly autumn weather outside. The night before, when she had picked out this outfit, she had been unsure, knowing she would undoubtedly be freezing on campus with only a skirt covering to the mid of her thighs. It had been Harry's idea to put on a pair of hose or stockings at the least to help cover her a little. 
(Leggings had been his first suggestion, and she had shot that down immediately).
Sending him a photo now, with a pair of barely used stockings pulled as high up her thighs as she could manage, was her test to see if she looked as silly as she felt. The skirt thankfully was covering the scalloped lace lining the top of the stockings, but she felt a bit scandalous with the pieces on her legs. 
Attaching the photo to a message, she typed out: 
     do you think this looks silly? i don't know if i still have the hose from my halloween costume but i'll look for it if you think that will work better!!
Pressing sending, she turned her attention to her hair instead of watching for Harry's response. All she had time for was to reach for a sparkly white headband before her phone buzzed against the countertop. From the preview, she saw that he had loved the image she sent before sending back a couple of texts in rapid succession. 
     Baby, you look gorgeous! 
     Is that my sweater? You should keep it.
     Don't change, I think you look perfect!
     But why can't I see your face? :( I miss you. 
A soft smile covered her features as she scrolled over the handful of messages. Taking a moment, she slid her headband over her head, pushing stray hairs out of her face. It felt a little silly, but she took another photo of herself, this one only of her smiling face before pressing send once more. 
Before she could even type out her gratitude for his previous messages, another handful were delivered.
     Baby! There you are!
     You look so pretty!
     Is that your new lipgloss? 
     I love when you push your hair back like that. Will you do that for the next time I get to take you out?
(Y/N) felt like she needed to be lying on her stomach, kicking her feet in the air while she twirled her hair when she read these over. Even from miles and miles away, she was not immune to the way he spoke to her. 
     thank you h🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 you're so sweet i miss you too!!!!
     i'm just worried that they're going to fall over my legs and then people will see the lace:( 
The delivered receipt never even popped up, Harry reading her messages as soon as they were sent. 
     I think you'll be okay, love. Your skirt is long enough that if they fall little, I don't think anyone will see. 
     If it would make you feel a little better, you can take one of my coats and use it to cover up if you feel like you need it. 
Truthfully, she was going to take one of his jackets with her today anyway, whether or not he gave her permission. 
     oooh that would be perfect!!!!! thank youuuuuuuu
     Of course. Stay warm today, darling. I'll call you when I get back to the hotel tonight. 
Glancing at the time, she was sure Harry would have just exited the tube and started making his way to the convention with the rest of the boys from the shop. She would have to keep it together and not text him every thought she had during the day. 
     talk to you later!!!! have fun love u
     Love you too, angel.
She couldn't wait to see him say those words to her in person. Only three more days. 
—————
From where it was tucked away under her thigh, (Y/N)'s phone buzzed. Today's lecture was an easy one to be distracted from, even if it probably wasn't the best idea to pay attention to her phone instead of the slides at the front of the room. 
Nonetheless, she reached for her phone under her skirt and glanced at the screen. 
Harry had sent a photo. 
A pinch appeared between her brows as she unlocked the screen, swiping on the notification. 
Their text thread was now made up of a photo of Harry in the bathroom at the conference center. It was a shot of his reflection in the mirror, where he was goofily posing to mimic the one she had sent over that morning. His tattooed hand was out at his side, pinching an invisible skirt to show off the flare.
     What do you think?  
(Y/N) had to choke back a laugh at the sight. 
     super cute h
     grab a jacket in case you get cold though
When he didn't immediately reply, (Y/N) tucked her phone away, smile now on her features as she pretended to pay attention to the lecturer before her. 
She was going to have to send that picture to Sarah and Mitch.
—————
(Y/N) checked the time, her expression falling when she saw just how little time had passed since the last time she looked. 
It had already been an hour since she said goodnight to Harry over the phone, but it was still too early to justify climbing into bed. Especially since she had taken a nap when she made it home from work. 
Over the phone, Harry had seemed so sleepy, recounting his long day touring the conference before getting a chance to finally sit down and give her a call when he made it back to his hotel room. She could have kept talking to him for hours, in love with the sound of his voice rumbling through the phone, but he seemed so exhausted. She didn't want to keep him up just because she missed him.
That left her alone, traveling back and forth to her closet. Different outfits were bundled in her arms each trip, the goal to be finding something cute to wear for her presentation on Monday. Without Harry here to soothe her for another couple of days—"two more sleeps," they had said on the phone—this was her only chance at distracting herself from the slides she already memorized. If she felt pretty, she thought she might be able to get through the whole thing a little easier. 
Playing music from the heart shaped speaker she stole from their bathroom, she bopped about the room, laying out different options on the bed. All of them were pretty cute, she thought, just... not right? She wasn't sure why, but none of them seemed to fit the vision she had for herself on Monday. 
Would the pink skirt come across as childish? The sweater with bows laced down the sleeves as unprofessional? But the fitted, dark green sweater she'd pulled didn't really feel like herself—at least not the version of herself that she would feel the most comfortable being when she was already going to be at her most uncomfortable in front of her whole class. 
Though it sounded like a lot of work, she figured she would only know for sure if she tried on each prospect. Even if the idea sounded even less fun when she remembered Harry wasn't going to be there to give his candy-coated opinion and tell her every sweet nothing he could think of. 
At the very least, it would fill her time and check off a task she knew she wasn't going to want to do when Harry returned home on Sunday. 
—————
Falling back onto their bed, (Y/N) didn't feel any more accomplished even with the skirt flaring around her body. She still needed to change out of this particular outfit—the one with the bow sweater layered over a silky blush dress and the same stockings that had treated her well earlier in the week—but she was too tired to do so at the moment. Instead, she pulled open her camera roll and looked at the trio of photos she took in her options. 
Even if she knew she wasn't going to gain any kind of response until the morning, (Y/N) still attached all three to a new message to Harry. He could be the deciding vote (even if she really just wanted him to pick the outfit she currently had on). 
Despite knowing he was asleep—the time being now a full hour and a half since saying goodnight—she still lagged for a moment, waiting for the receipt to change to read. Unsurprised, she locked her phone after a minute when her message stayed on delivered. 
(Y/N) pushed her phone to the side as she forced herself up from where she laid on her bed, a heavy sigh leaving her chest. She needed to get into her pajamas, then wash her face, perform her skincare routine, get her hair in shape for bedtime, and then probably feed Evie again and have a snack herself, and, if he wasn't too tired, she could start the new book she dow—
Her phone buzzed. 
Pausing where she stood, feet bare other than the stockings wrapped around her legs. She knew it was probably Sarah, confirming their plans for the following way. But, (Y/N) still, just a little, hoped it might be Harry. 
Without letting herself get too excited, she reached for her phone amongst the tufts of her comforter. 
A single notification sat at the bottom of her lock screen. 
     Harry🖤
She didn't even attempt to hold back the smile that bloomed over her features. He was supposed to be asleep. 
Sliding the notification open, their text thread opened up. Her photos took up the majority of the screen though her eyes went right to his message. 
     Are you still in the last outfit?
A little less... affectionate than she had been hoping for, but a response nonetheless. 
     i am why ! 
     i thought you were asleep 
Another message near instantly came through. 
     I'm having a harder time falling asleep than I thought. 
     I really like that last one, love. Are you wearing those stockings? 
She frowned at his explanation. She didn't like the idea of Harry tossing and turning all by himself in a hotel room. Maybe, she'd try to help him get to sleep. 
     yessss but i did find those ones that i got for my halloween costume so i can wear those instead if you think that's better for the presentation 
     Can I see? 
(Y/N)'s frown deepened. 
     the other ones???? 
It wasn't a fun set to pull up her legs since the material was so fragile and thighs when they made it up to her thighs, but she would manage if wanted to see—
     No, the stockings. 
     You're still wearing them right, love? 
Her cheeks warmed. Maybe it was the way she was reading it in her head—with the deep rumble of his voice, drawling and heavy with his eyes on her—but she swore there was a little more to this than attempting to help her pick an outfit. 
In lieu of typing out a response, she turned her camera on. She debated finding her way back to bed or standing before the mirror once more. Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, she figured the mirror was the safer choice. At least this way she could offer a full view. 
Bunching the skirt of the dress in her hand, she snapped a photo of the stockings tight around her legs, the white lace showing. There was no pattern in the netting, only the sheer white mesh, the material offering a satin finish over her skin. Nothing special, really. 
The photo sent, never reaching delivered status before being read by Harry. Though no immediate response was sent back.
(Y/N) waited as moments passed before a bubble filled with three little dots popped up in the corner of the screen. 
     You look so pretty, love. I wish I was there with you. 
     Do you have anything else pretty on under your outfit?
She blinked at the message. Okay, so she hadn't been reading him wrong, even if she was a little surprised at how quickly he was leading her down this path. 
Her fingers hovered over the offered keyboard. Truthfully, she wasn't wearing a pretty matching set the way she was sure Harry was picturing. Underneath the layers of her sweater and dress, was a comfortable, unlined pink bra and a set of cotton panties in baby blue. 
Just as she went to type an answer, she blanched, eyes widening as an alternative idea popped through her head. 
Did he want a... picture of her?
The idea had her stomach churning. 
Though it wasn't anything Harry hadn't seen before, photos seemed so much more scandalous. She didn't doubt that it had much to do with conversations she overhead her parents having, the kind when a celebrity or a girl in their community had private photos leaked and spread around. It was always the woman in the photo's fault—if she hadn't wanted those out there, she shouldn't have taken them. She shouldn't have been acting like a whore. 
She must have taken longer than she realized when another message came through.
     Baby? 
Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) typed out a noncommittal answer. 
    maybeeeeeeee
    why?
Harry would be disappointed to see her chewing on the pillow of her lip, but she couldn't help herself. Was it stupid to be nervous? Especially when the question itself hadn't even been asked—and even if it had, Harry was the love of her life. She lived with him, and was stressing over the idea of sending him a photo of her body? It didn't make much sense. 
     I miss you baby. Do you think I could see you? 
If there was any room for speculation over how much he missed her and in what way, it was all put to rest when another photo came through. 
It was a view of the small of Harry's stomach, angled as if he were posing the camera from the height of his chest. His hand, tattooed and familiar, grasping at a bulge through the worn black material of his sweats. 
(Y/N) blinked, breath stuck in her chest. 
No wonder he couldn't fall asleep. 
Was she supposed to send her own photo now? To be fair, it was quite the sight—one she had missed since he left—to see the expanse of his hand over his crotch, but she wasn't sure she was far enough gone to completely disregard the feeling in her stomach. 
But she couldn't leave him hanging. She knew she would be sick to her stomach if she sent something to Harry and he didn't immediately respond in kind. 
She didn't think before she reacted to the photo with a heart, typing out: 
     i miss you too!!!!! is this why you couldn't sleep 
It took all of one second, realizing what she had sent his way, to make her cringe. She was sure this wasn't the kind of reaction he had been hoping for when he sent an explicit image. 
She hoped, if anything, he thought it was endearing. 
     A little bit. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since our phone call. I don't know if I can wait two more sleeps to see you again. 
Her heart raced behind her ribs. While it wasn't something she really indulged in, there was more than once this week that she had briefly wondered if she had the willpower to wait for him to return home before spreading her legs. But, as it usually did, the idea paled in comparison to what he was able to offer her. If she had to wait a couple of days, then so be it, she had decided. 
That decision didn't feel so concrete now, not with the view on her phone. 
It's not like Harry would spread her photos around. She knew that. And this would be far from the most scandalous thing she'd ever partaken in with Harry's guidance. 
And, gosh, did she miss him.
Between her legs, a heat gathered. What she wouldn't give to be on her knees before him, her hand replacing his. To hear the rumbling of his moans, hearing him call her his pretty, good girl. So gorgeous he can barely handle himself. That he could spend hours���days, even—in bed with her. All he wanted was to take care of her, starting with the ache between her legs. 
She clutched her phone tightly. 
It wouldn't be so bad, she thought. It was just a photo. If it really bothered her, Harry would delete every photo and every mention of the photos. Besides, she was an adult. 
She had moved into a home with her long-term boyfriend—who she had a sneaking suspicion was going to propose in the near future—, took care of her own needs, and would soon be facing her college graduation. She could send photos of herself if she wanted to. 
(Even if she still felt a little sick to her stomach. Aside from being unsure of sending them, she didn't even know how to take them). 
     Are you still there, baby? I didn't mean to scare you off. 
A small smile touched the corners of her mouth. She could hear those words in his voice. He was always so worried about being too much, asking for too much, when it came to her. Because he was Harry, and he loved her. 
He loved her so much, and she didn't doubt that she could trust him even more.
     yeah hold on im taking a picture !!
That was all she said before pulling up her camera. 
Making quick work of her clothing, the sweater and dress became nothing more than a puddle on the floor. She hesitated at the hem of the stockings. It felt a bit silly to keep them on, given the fact that her underwear was far from pretty and put together. But, Harry did seem to like them. 
Before she could think any more about it, she took her phone and stepped in front of the mirror. 
There was a feeling in her chest, similar to that of when he took her to the beach for the first time in Barcelona, seeing herself in so little clothing. Very different to when she would disrobe in front of him, knowing that he was only going to gaze upon her in awe. She wouldn't be able to gauge his reaction from the other end of a phone. 
If not for the fact that she had already said she was taking a photo of herself, (Y/N) may have backed down. Instead, she committed to posing before the mirror. 
She stood with her thighs together, the gusset of her panties tucked between her legs. The stockings stood out against her skin, shimmering in the low light of the lit lamps of their bedroom. Her breasts were cradled in the light pink material of her bra, unlined with the peak of her nipples pushing through. The thin line of wire under her bust held up the swells. 
Angling her camera to conceal her face once more, (Y/N) held her breath as she pressed the circle at the bottom of her screen. She didn't allow herself more than a glance at the photo before pressing send. It didn't look too bad when she peeked, but she wasn't in the mood to judge her body any more than she already was beginning to judge herself for taking the photo at all. 
She couldn't wait to see what his reaction would be. Instead, she locked her phone and dove for the safety of her bed, wrapping the throw lined at the bottom of the mattress around her nearly-bare body. 
(Y/N) knew she wasn't a bad person. Right? She had only sent a photo to her boyfriend. That was all. Was it the best photo? Maybe not, but it was of her. That should be enough for him, right? 
Harry always told her just how perfect she was, how much he loved her body. Even after she had more than one bowl of soup before he took her to bed, he never complained over her bloated stomach or if she hadn't had time to shave herself before spreading her legs. 
But, photos could be so unforgiving. She wouldn't blame him if he thought differently of her. Not to mention, she really gave in pretty quickly to this whole photo thing, didn't she? 
What if he hadn't even wanted a photo of her, and she sent one anyway? She should have know—
     Fuck
     Angel are you joking 
     This isn't fair. You cant look so pretty without me 
     Did you keep those stockings on for m e?
Something bloomed in the middle of her chest. It was a bit silly, but she knew Harry. He didn't text without punctuation and checking his spelling. Seeing the lack of periods and a disjointed word at the end, she liked to think that her photo was having a more profound effect on him than she could have hoped. 
The lighting hadn't been as bad as she thought, then. 
Confidence struck her, urging her to message him back before it had a chance to fizzle out. 
     yes daddy
She wished she could be there to see his reaction to the message. She missed seeing that flash in his eyes, his pupils dilating as he gazed at her. In her head, he would have reached out and grabbed her hips, pulling her flushed to him. Hips together, where the thick bulge of his cock would press right against her core. 
Was it crazy to catch a flight? She could probably make it there soon, and then they could go home together on Sunday. 
That way she could at least see her daddy be—
     You're such a good girl for your daddy angel
     Fucking perfect you're gonna make me cum just from your picture 
     Can I show you?
The final message had her heart slowing. The heat that had fallen to the backburner during her overthinking had returned tenfold. The effect she had on him would never not amaze her. 
She definitely wanted to see. 
     please
(Y/N) waited, sitting in the message thread. Her imagination ran wild, filling in the gaps his absence left behind. 
She wondered how long he would be home before she would drip to her knees. Would she let him put his things away, or would he feel the same need she did and take care of her as soon as he made it through the door? Would he press her against the door, his hair still pulled back from his flight, minty gum being ground between his molars? Or would he give her the courtesy of placing her on the kitchen counter, shorts pulled to her ankles? 
Could she get him to play with her, chasing her into their bedroom before she tugged him down atop her? So she could lay just like she was now, on her back with her head cushioned by a pillow smelling of him. In her head, she would have something much prettier on, but if he wanted her pretty socks on, she could do that for him. She could spread her legs for him, let him fit himself between her thighs. 
Her breathing was labored as she took the hand bundled between the sheets to the small of her stomach. Her phone was still hovering above her face, waiting for the response she needed from Harry, but now her attention was beginning to split in half. 
Now, she noticed the goosebumps on her skin, rising in the wake of her own touch. The feeling brought her back to their first Valentine's Day. When he had sat behind her, their hands looped together between her legs, showing her exactly how to touch herself, to emulate the way he took care of her. Her fingertips had only touched the first thread of the elastic around her waist when a message came through.
Or a video did. 
There was a part of her that was worried that she didn't even hesitate before pressing play. The other part of her was too worked up to care. 
The video took over the full screen in an instant, the sound turned up just enough to hear soft noises. (Y/N) hurried to turn the volume up a few notches when she realized what she was looking at. 
With his sweats pushed down to his thighs, showing off the ink needled into nearly every inch of his skin, Harry had his hand fisted around his cock. Only lamps were turned on in his hotel room, leaving the space in buttery, limited light. Shadows were elongated, everything just a touch darker than she was sure it was in real. Including the black nail polish that glimmered on his fingers as he stroked his hand over his cock. 
The tip was red and ruddy, blurting with precum. He was much more worked up than she was expecting, the long night having taken a toll on him. Slick, soft pats of his hand hitting his base sounded through her phone, in conjunction with the heady pants behind the camera. 
Her mouth ran dry when she heard her name being moaned. She had missed that voice so much. 
All over a single photo she had sent. 
A week apart was much too long, it appeared. 
Abruptly, the video stopped. She didn't think before she tapped the screen again, urging the clip to start over. 
Watching the video once more, (Y/N) allowed her other hand to drift lower. Breaching the waist of her underwear, she pictured his hand as her eyes fluttered to a close. It was jarring, the first touch to her clit. The last time she had done this for herself, had been under Harry's supervision that day. Never had she been alone before. 
Though, she figured she wasn't really alone, not when she heard the grumbling tone of his moans filtering through the room. The call of her name as he jerked his fist over his length. 
With her mind becoming a bit more muddy with every breath, she attempted to remember just how Harry worked her up and helped her through the shaky breaths entering her lungs. 
He always started at her clit, working the bud in tight circles, borrowing wetness from her slit to keep her movements slick. Her back arched as she slid her finger lower, parting her folds to where her pulsing opening beckoned to someone miles away. 
Her lungs shuddered, breathing uneven as she attempted to focus. Pulling her eyes open (she hadn't even known they closed, really) she directed the small portion of her attention she had to spare towards her phone. The video had ended, the screen moments away from locking before she tapped her thumb. 
Swiping to their messages, she didn't think. 
     harry oh my god 
     i miss you so much daddy I wish you were here this doesn't feel the same without you 
     i need you 
A trio of dots came up on the corner of her screen.
     Can I see you, baby? I miss you too so much. 
     When I get home I m going to take such good care f you I promise 
     Be good and show daddy what he's doing to you love I need it 
How he knew so clearly what to say to her, what would clear through the much and spear into her chest, she was never going to be sure, but she would always be grateful.
His request for another photo was a steady distraction. It allowed her to keep some of her head on straight instead of losing every bit of her to the pleasure she was eliciting between her legs. Taking a hurried moment, she shimmied her panties down her stockinged legs until the garment was hanging off of an ankle. Spreading her legs wide, her phone angled just so, the camera caught a view of the softness of her stomach to the middle of her thighs. Just the top scalloping of the lace was caught from the stockings.
Her hand, tucked just so, worked between her legs. She wasn't sure if the slick sounds permeating the room was going to be picked up, but she hoped so. She hoped Harry would be able to hear what such a simple video had done to her. That she had viewed it twice, her underwear now sporting a damp spot with that same wetness being pulled up to coat her clit. That she really did listen when he attempted to show her how to take care of herself, circling her fingers around the bud with her pulsing opening waiting for him the second he made it back home to her. 
Oh god, when he got home. 
She didn't doubt that he was going to take perfect care of her. Throwing her head back, (Y/N) lost sight of the screen of her phone, but a different view took over her head. 
This one had Harry sitting before her, letting her nestle between his thighs as he stroked his cock in front of her face. She could see the pearls of precum beading down his length to be swept away in his stroking fist. Glistening and throbbing. She would open her mouth and let him do anything he wanted—
"Daddy," she breathed, blinking back to the world when she realized she still had a video she was to be directing. 
Keeping her hand between her legs, she shut off the camera. She only made a couple of presses before the video was off to Harry, though she kept working her fingers over her clit, dipping low in teasing touches before returning to the bud. As much as she would have liked to feel something sinking deep inside her, the idea didn't sound as appealing when she knew her own fingers weren't going to cut it. She would save that bit for Harry; toying with her clit was doing a well enough job, and she didn't have the attention to take care of two different paces, if she was honest. 
A handful of responses were delivered to her at a rapid-fire pace. 
     can I save that video baby
     you look so pretty with your hand between your legs 
     Doing what daddy taught you rigt 
     Im so fuckign proud of you I miss you so much angel 
     can I see you cum please 
     for me 
Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) barely was able to keep her hand from shaking as she typed.
     I want to see you:( 
It was at the same moment that her phone buzzed. A FaceTime call. From Harry.
"Harry?" she greeted, breathless when she answered. She didn't need to glance at the tiny box of herself to know that her eyes were lidded and wild, mouth parted and swollen. 
"Oh fuck, (Y/N)," he muttered, the view of his face obstructed from the messy state of his hair. His cheeks blazed with warmth, baby hair clinging to his temples. "You're close, love? Can y'cum with me?" 
(Y/N) practically melted into the mattress at the sound of his voice. She missed this so much—missed him more than she even realized until then. Her clit pulsed under her finger. 
"Uh-huh," she nodded, debating turning her camera around before blinking at her phone screen. "Do you... I can show you." 
A string of curses left his raspberry mouth. "Let me see, baby. Let daddy see." 
She didn't have to give another thought before she was punching the button, reversing the camera to show a view of her spread legs. Her hand was clearly working over her pussy, the slick sounds not matching the circling of her fingers. 
"That feel good, angel?" Harry panted, his eyes almost falling closed before he suddenly remembered what was in front of him. A quiet whimper broke from her throat. "I know, baby. 'M sure it feels so good, huh?" 
For the hundredth time in the last handful of minutes, she wished Harry was with her. She wished he was hovering above her, that she could see the look on her face and the need flashing through her eyes. That he would know what she needed just from looking at her, but she supposed she could handle that part for the night. Maybe. 
"R-Really good, daddy," she let out, breathless, "I-I want to see you—I'm—" 
Before her eyes, she saw the screen flip. Where his flustered face had been was now a view of his cock. Much like his video, his fist was working relentlessly over his length, though he decidedly looked much more desperate. He was gleaming in the sheen of his precum, his thumb swiping through the near constant river dripping down. From the way he was breathing alone, she was sure he was close. 
"Harry—oh my god," she murmured, barely finding her voice, "Wh-When you get home, will you—Can you let me do that for you, please? I want you so bad." 
It was a bold request, so bluntly spoken in her book. Though it only seemed to spur Harry on. His cock jumped in his hand, another stream sliding down his cock. 
"You're gonna make me cum, baby," he groaned, the camera going shaking like his breathing, "I wanna see you first—can y'do that for me? Are y'close?" 
Shifting her hold on her phone, she moved her camera to show the pace of her fingers between her legs, working over her clit. She moved her legs wider apart, her movements growing messy and clumsy. Knowing that he was watching her was enough to have her arching her back. 
"So close, so close," she muttered, her voice thick in her throat. 
"Show me." The command of his voice was so enticing. "I wanna see how much y'miss me, love." 
When he put it that way, she couldn't hold off any more. She wanted him to know just how badly she missed him, how much she wished she was at his side, hands on each other. Shuttering her eyes, she hoped she kept her hand steady as she felt herself unravel. Though it didn't compare to the fire Harry lit in the pit of her stomach, the flames lighting under her skin was enough to simmer her blood and warm her body.
Whimpering calls of his name—both of them—fell from her lips. Her breasts heaved under her bra, heart pounding just as hard. Her fingers lagged around her clit as her hips bucked upwards into her hand. Her folds grew impossibly slick, her insides clenching around nothing. Especially when she heard the responding moans from Harry on the other end.
It took effort to peel her eyes open, to look at her own show playing on her phone screen. 
Harry was cumming, his hand still tight around his cock. Ropes of his release spurted from his tip, dripping down to his stroking hand. Deep, heavy moans fell from his lips. (Y/N) could only imagine the way he looked with his lips parted, eyes shuttered closed with his hair a messy halo around his head. How it would feel to have her head against his chest, feeling the vibrations of his voice under her ear. 
Aftershocks wracked through her body as she watched him. More and more clarity streaked through her head as she watched his own comedown begin. Through the camera, she could see the way his strokes began to slow, hand shaking as he loosened his grip. Small dribbles were all that remained of his release before he hissed, removing his hand completely. 
(She wasn't going to say it now, but she felt a bit... sad to know that the slick release covering his hand was going to be washed away. She would have cleaned him up better). 
Her own hand retreated from between her legs. Her legs moved to close around the phantom touch that had her insides pulsing. She wondered if Harry was able to see the glistening slick over her fingers before she turned the camera back around. 
"Harry?" 
It took a bit, a lingering pause with heavy breaths before Harry followed suit. 
"Sorry," he murmured, his face flushed as he blinked his eyes open, "Are y'alright, love?" 
Nestled amongst the sheets that still smelled of him, (Y/N) felt a dazed smile touch her lips. 
"I'm good. Are you okay?"
"'M alright," he confirmed, a subtle grin matching hers. "That was a lot, huh?"
She suddenly felt shy. As if this was the most scandalous thing they've ever gotten up to. 
"A little. But, good, right?" 
"Good. Really good," he cemented, a light in his eyes, "Not what I thought we were going to do tonight, but worth it." 
(Y/N) hummed. "I just wanted help picking out an outfit." 
A loud laugh bubbled from her love. "Well, at least y'know my favorite." 
Rolling her sheets, legs still a bit sticky, (Y/N) could only mimic the smile on his face. "I guess so. But I don't know if I can wear that if that's how it made you feel." 
"Maybe not," he prattled, "Might have to be something just for the two of us." 
"Maybe," she sighed. 
On her phone, she watched Harry's eyes grow heavy. Once glance at the time showed her how late the night had grown while they were busy. All after the long day Harry had gone through. 
"Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?" she asked, her voice decidedly quieter and more even than just moments before. 
"Probably," Harry hummed, a lazy smile pulling his lips, "Are you tired?" 
"A little. I still need to clean up, but you know me." 
"Don't I ever," he teased, affection swimming in his gaze, "Only two more sleeps, sweetheart." 
"Two more sleeps," she repeated, a sigh fanning from her lips, "I'll talk to you in the morning?" 
"I'll text y'when I wake up," he assured, exhaustion lessening only to make room for the fondness infiltrating his features. "Goodnight, baby. Love you." 
"Love you, too, H." 
The last thing she saw was the loving smile on his face before the screen cut back to their messages. It made her skin warm seeing the last few texts they shared. Everything always seemed a little bit silly once that cold clarity hit. 
Not that she would change a single moment, of course. Though she didn't see the photo thing becoming the norm between them, it definitely didn't seem so scary with Harry on the other end. 
It felt... nice, even. Even without her right in front of him, Harry still was the most loving, most affectionate. He was miles and miles away and she was still the most appealing thing to him. After a long day, she was the one he wanted to see.
Biting her bottom lip between her teeth, she pulled up the keyboard one more time. 
     you can save that video btw !
—————
(Y/N) practically bounced in her spot, eyes fixed to the front door and Evie in her arms. 
He should be back at any second. 
Like, now.
... Or, now.
Her lips thinned. Evie wriggled in her arms. 
Maybe, now?
A chirping meow left Evie. 
"I know, I know," (Y/N) murmured, "As soon as daddy's home, I'll feed you, okay? He should be home in just a second, Ev—"
The sound of the doorknob turning plucked her attention. Even Evie turned to see what was going on. Finagling out of her arms, the kitten rushed towards the door, large eyes directed upwards, waiting for her dad to appear. 
Pushing open the door, Harry was revealed, in a comfortable all black outfit with the hood of his sweatshirt draped over his head. Just as she pictured, he still had gum being chewed between his molars. His eyes were tired, though there was a spark that filtered through his gaze when he saw the tiny creature at his feet. 
"Hi, Ev," he murmured, duffle bag dangling over his shoulder as he bent down to pet between her ears. "I missed you so much, little." 
(Y/N) smiled at the affectionate tone of his voice, her hands clasped into a bundle under her chin. 
Harry lingered with his cat for only a second before he peeked up at her. Right where she was perched on the arm of the couch, a silky short dress clinging to her form. Stockings on her legs. 
"Hey, you."
Launching herself at him, (Y/N) flung her arms around his neck. Harry didn't hesitate before he reciprocated her hold, caging her to his c test with the bar of his arms around her back. Lifting her feet off the floor, he tucked his head into her neck, twirling her with the tips of her toes grazing the floor. 
"I missed you," she murmured, taking in the perfume of his scent. The sheets were beginning to dull, and while she had the full-size of his cologne in their bathroom, it didn't have the same notes that his skin, his laundry, his hair had. It didn't smell the same without the warmth of him underneath.
Harry pulsed his arms around her, the muscles blocking out of his body keeping her steady in his hold. "I missed you too, baby. Next time, you're coming with me, okay? We'll figure something out for Evie and your classes." 
"Okay," she blindly agreed, nodding her head in his neck, "I'm coming with you." 
Taking in a deep breath, Harry shifted his hold on her until he had an arm barred around the back of her thighs. It took a tap of his fingers on the plush skin, the strip between the hem of her nightdress and the lace of her stockings, to get to wrap her legs around his hips. Armed with both his duffle and his love, he started towards their bedroom. 
"Wanna shower with me first, or should we do that after?" 
"After?" 
She felt the breath of his laughter fan across her bare shoulder. 
"After I keep my promise. Y'didn't wear all this for nothing, right?"
(Y/N) only locked her ankles around his back. 
"Shower after." 
His hand shifted, giving her backside a small swat. 
"That's what I thought." 
—————
this has been a long time coming so I hope everyone likes how it turned out! thank you sooooo much for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and pleaseee if you have anything fun like an idea or request pleaseee send it in!
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conflictofthemind · 6 months ago
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Take Me To Church-Gate
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A few weeks back, I received a tip that Noah and Finn came into Atlanta for a couple of days to rehearse a scene alone together that never ended up being filmed. This was around the time of the convention that Finn ended up missing in early June (and we initially theorized was for the playground scenes).
I since received confirmation of not only this, but that the rehearsal in question was for a scene at the UD church set. The filming never went through because Noah got an eye infection / sty, so the shoot was rescheduled for early August. If you've seen me mentioning looking forward to August, this is what that was about.
The Eye Infection:
Let me link this post to begin with, barring the 'James' stuff who has proven to be false. I heard about the eye infection and my alarm bells rang immediately - I have a friend myself who wears contacts occasionally and whenever they get sties, they're always caused by the contacts. When has Noah worn contacts before in the show? When Will is being possessed by the mindflayer in Season 2.
The church is an interesting location, because it most definitely has to do with Henry as well. When the original countdown for TFS was being posted, there were images of a church - a location that may have been changed during development. The characters most likely go there as part of the continuing Henry investigation.
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And we know Henry was exorcised at some point, but it failed. The sign going into the church is also a likely clue to this, referencing Mark 9:29 - a verse about a failed exorcism.
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Conclusion for this part: Will very likely becomes possessed again while in this church. My source tells me they usually only do big rehearsals like this for scenes involving action, too.
My opinion is that Will was never fully exorcised either. I mean, he still has a clear connection to the mindflayer with all the tingles on his neck and the possible literal psychic connection he has to Vecna as well.
It's Byler, Too:
I suspect that Jamie has some part in the scene as well (given they scheduled it during his latest block on set), but the focus is on Will and Mike - being the only two other main characters on set at the time, and the only two rehearsing.
But going back to the church thing.... I wonder what kind of symbolism is created by bringing two gay characters who both have a lot of internalized shame into a location that is honestly the source of said shame? It's honestly not even symbolism. It might just be referenced in plain text. Looking back at that church sign:
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"This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer"
"This kind" really evokes the dehumanising language used by homophobes to refer to gay people. And the driven out by prayer part, well that really evokes conversion 'therapy' practices of praying the gay away. So what if this is where Will and Mike finally admit their love for each other, and kiss. And what if that is actually what's able to drive the 'demon' away - gay love.
Especially during the Satanic Panic arc we are sure to see come full circle with the reckoning of the Hellfire Club in Season 5.
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An arc which Mike is surely at the centre of as well, being not only a Hellfire Member in the past, but being family to the new disappeared child in town.
And it's not like Mike's love is what's been shown to us time and time again as the way to break Will out of his mindflayer trance. Oh, wait.
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Consider it incredibly fanfic-y, but it's on the table now. An action scene at the church involving Byler where Noah is wearing contacts - Will becoming possessed just like Henry again and being made to fight Mike as not only part of the plan to get all of the Wheelers, but also as something that would break Will's spirit permanently. They're all alone with nobody to help save Mike. But the plan is thwarted through the power of love, and in a place that represents a lot of shame for gay men (especially in the 80s) - they finally come together. And it is love that frees Will from his trance. Whether through a confession or true love's kiss. It would be so dramatic and atmospheric.
Additional evidence:
Jopper's Season 4 reunion and kiss inside the Russian church, of which this would be a parallel.
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The whole idea of "we kissed, as though nothing could fall. And the shame was on the other side" from David Bowie's Heroes - the shame being in the actual church from the rightside up, but they're alone together on the other side / in the Upside Down.
It is also very likely that this scene is from Episode 5 or 6. I've asked and nobody seems to know which episode it is from, but following the logic of Episode 4 being when the characters enter in groups into the Upside Down, and here Byler are all alone, it is definitely after some time has passed and groups have split further. They're definitely not having any kind of confession in the first half of the season, so this timing sounds positive.
Multiple rehearsals. Noah contacting his acting coach recently for advice. Them even having to cancel an entire shoot because of a sty indicates close-up shots for sure.
Anyway. I'd really love to see people's thoughts on this. I feel like there's even more I could get into in follow-up posts, especially if other people chime in with their thoughts. I have been buzzing about this scene for weeks now. I want to start another gate for old time's sake, so please use #churchgate if you want to make your own posts about this!
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btsvt-bar · 8 months ago
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down bad
pairing ꩜ husband!mingyu x afab!reader
sequel to hurts so good, please read it first to understand their background/dynamics.
content/genre ꩜ haters to lovers, ceo/mean husband mingyu, smut (18+ mdni). they sort of have a fwb thing going on.
author's note ꩜
not proofread. comments are appreciated!
warnings under the cut!
warnings ꩜ smut, masturbation (m. and f. receiving), oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, corruption kink (it's not deeply explored), orgasm denial, creampie, dom-ish mingyu, dirty talk, cock warming, pet names (baby, dear husband/wife, my queen, pretty girl), mentions of threesome.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
You loved birthday parties, especially if they were children’s parties. It’s Saturday afternoon and you’re in the backyard of Wonwoo and Claire’s house to celebrate Yeji’s 4th birthday.
You’re sitting by the pool, your legs submerged to your knees. You see your husband playing around with his friends’ kids. He’s holding Minjoon—Seungcheol’s son—in his arms while he pretends to drink tea with Yeji and three of her school friends. Your heart skips a beat when he looks your way and smiles. It’s almost unfair how handsome he is, even dressed with pink fairy wings, a princess tiara and a pair of plastic earrings.
You sigh and turn your attention to the big form approaching. Joshua greets you with a smile. "Y/N, why are you here all alone?" he asks while sitting by your side.
"Just chilling." You offer a shy smile, a bit intimidated by his presence.
Joshua Hong is gorgeous. When you first met him, you were completely enamored with his face. And when you found out he was nice and friendly, you kinda developed a crush on him. Now, a few years later, you still feel intimidated whenever he’s around.
You take in his visuals, from his dark hair pushed back, featuring his perfect face, to the white button up shirt that allowed you to see a bit of his chest, to his light brown cargo shorts that showcased his legs perfectly. He carried an amused smile on his lips, as usual.
"I’m glad you joined me, though."
"Well, all of my friends are talking about parenting and I can’t listen to another minute of tips on how to change a diaper." Joshua states and you laugh lightly.
"I know the feeling very well." You throw him an empathetic look. "So… how was your trip to Paris? Mingyu mentioned you went there for a convention or something?"
Shua stares into the water, he’s watching your feet move around. "Yeah, for this Luxury Hotels thing. My dad’s trying to expand the franchise and I went to meet some European investors."
"Seems a bit boring." You blurt out and Joshua chuckles, agreeing promptly.
"It is. But it’s work so it’s not meant to be fun."
"True. But Paris is a great city with amazing food and museums."
"Maybe we should go together next time." Joshua comments and your movements freeze instantly. Realizing what he said, he adds "With everyone else, I mean! Like a group trip."
The mischievous gleam in his eyes makes you feel warm inside. Joshua’s flirting, you’re not dumb. And he’s not either, he knows the truth about your situationship with Mingyu.
"That would be nice." Your voice is soft and shaky. He barely said anything and you’re freaking out inside, which leads you to think that maybe you have a big crush on him.
"Hey! You two!" You hear Mingyu’s voice calling. "Let’s sing happy birthday and cut the cake."
Joshua gets up and extends his hands to help you. His palms feel soft under your fingertips, and you feel your insides twist. "C’mon, Y/N. Your husband’s waiting." He flashes a knowing smile and walks away, leaving you too stunned to follow.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
It’s been a year since you and Mingyu made peace and started being friends. You agreed to be friends with benefits and to be exclusive, since you couldn’t risk someone assuming one of you was cheating. So you two reaped the benefits like dates, physical touching and, of course, sex, but didn’t really work on getting romantically involved. Of course that doesn’t mean that both of you didn’t develop some feelings, because you did. But, for now, you played husband and wife and everything was good.
But now, thinking about the way Joshua flirted with you, you wished you could have him. And your brain, always being one to come up with naughty ideas, had the best solution to your problem.
"Gyu?" You call your husband softly. You’re both lying on your shared bed watching TV, his head on your chest and his big hand caressing your belly.
"Hm?" He responds without looking away from the big screen.
"Remember that one time we talked about having a threesome, and I said I didn’t have a guy option?" Your words sparked his interest, so the man got up on his elbows to look at you. "I have a name now…"
Mingyu looks curiously at you. He has an idea of who, but he wants you to say the name. "Who?"
You bite your lower lip, feeling a bit nervous. "Joshua."
Your husband smirks. He knew it. "You have the hots for Shua hyung, dear wife?"
"So what if I do?" You pout. "He’s single and he seems to know about us."
Mingyu scrunches his nose. "I accidentally told him last time we went out for a drink." He reveals with a sheepish smile. "He’s reliable, don’t worry."
"Well, one more reason to do it with him." You say excitedly, your mind already picturing the things you would to do Joshua.
"I don’t want to have a threesome anymore." Your husband states in a quiet voice.
When you look at him, he’s staring down at his hand that’s resting on your hips. He looks a bit annoyed. "What? Are you jealous?" You chuckle, fishing for an answer.
"Not at all." He lies, rolling his eyes to add to the dramatics. "It’s just not on my kink list."
His words make you realize that he’s never once told you about his kinks. In the past year, you’ve talked a few times about it. And Mingyu’s been really open to exploring them, always being so generous and giving you new mind blowing sex experiences each time.
"So what’s on your kink list?" You ask with a sly smile, liking the direction of the conversation.
Mingyu lets his body fall on the bed, hiding his face. He shakes his head, indicating he’s not talking.
"Tell me!" You insist, shaking his arms. "I told you all of mine, but you never told me yours. Besides angry sex, of course."
"Never mind. It’s stupid."
You grab his chin to make him look at you. His cheeks have a pink hue, and he’s scrunching his nose. "Please baby, tell me."
Mingyu sighs, giving in to your soft plead. "It’s not actually a kink, but maaaaybe I’ve been thinking about fucking you in a wedding dress. Since our wedding night never happened."
The air gets caught up in your lungs. The idea of Mingyu having his way with you in a sort of reenactment of your wedding day makes your core burn and your stomach twist and turn.
"I like that idea." You give him a quick kiss before letting go of his face. "What else?"
"I wanted to try corruption kink." He looks away, his face burning even more. It’s funny how cute he looks while revealing his sexual fantasies.
"We can totally try it too." You agree, even if he didn’t actually ask. "But only if you look at me and give me another kiss."
Mingyu chuckles and goes in for the kiss. You touch lips for a few seconds before pulling away.
"Let’s sleep, I’m beaten."
"Not easy being uncle of the year, huh?" You taunt him. "You looked cute dressed up as a fairy."
"The things I do for my goddaughter." He sighs. You both knew fully well he enjoyed playing with the kids, but you let his little lie slide. "Good night, dear wife."
"Good night, dear husband." You allow him to engulf you in a warm hug before slipping into unconsciousness.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
A couple weeks later, you and Mingyu go out to celebrate your 5th anniversary. It’s the first one you’re going to celebrate, now that you’re on good terms. For this reason, you prepared a little surprise for Mingyu, wanting to spice things up a bit.
After your conversation about his kinks, you decided you needed a special occasion to try them, and what’s more special than the first anniversary you celebrate?
So you went out with Gwen and she helped you pick out a nice wedding dress. You settled for a sparkly white satin rhinestone strap mini dress that really compliments your boobs and legs. You’re sure he’s going to lose it when he sees you.
Mingyu also planned a surprise: he made a reservation for an overnight stay in a luxurious hotel room, which had the biggest bed you’ve ever seen.
You arrive after having dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant. Mingyu has a goofy smile, maybe because you both had a couple drinks, maybe because he is excited for the night.
There’s a small table in your room with two flutes and a bottle of champagne waiting. Mingyu pops it open and you toast. You take a sip and decide it’s time to put on your dress.
"Wait here, I have a surprise."
While you rush to the big bathroom to get changed, Mingyu takes off his blazer. He’s wearing a deep purple shirt that compliments his skin, and perfectly tailored dress pants. His hands are shaking in anticipation, because he has another surprise for you before the night ends.
Meanwhile, you put on your dress pretty quickly—you chose one that you’re able to zip up yourself. You pull the white lace garter up your leg, adding a touch of sensuality. To finish off, you place the short veil on your head. Taking a quick glance in the mirror, you decide you look perfect. You slip back into your white heels and open the bathroom door.
Mingyu’s looking out the window, his champagne glass nearly empty. You approach him slowly and cover his eyes with your hands. "Guess who?"
"Hm… I have a feeling it’s my wife. Not sure though." He joined in with a laugh.
You place your hands on his shoulder and turn him around, revealing your new outfit. His jaw drops when he sees you.
"Y/N, what is this?" His breathing is quick and you can see he’s starting to malfunction.
"Well, I kept thinking about how we never had a wedding night." You bite your lower lip, inching closer to him. "And I figured tonight would be a good one to make up for lost time. Don’t you agree?"
Mingyu just stares, still in shock. He takes in your form, how your boobs look delicious in your dress, the way the fabric hugs your waist, and how you look fucking angelic while asking him to fuck you. "Shit, you can’t do this to me." He groans in a low, deep tone.
You can see he already has a tent in his pants. Mingyu looks flushed, and you haven’t even touched him yet.
"How about you lie down, dear husband?" You say in a provocative tone. "You look a little pale, let me take care of you."
The man nearly runs to the bed. He gets comfortable and you get on top of him. Your core is starting to grow hot, seeing how much he wants you.
Without giving it a second thought, pull out his pants along with his boxers. His cock stands hard and leaking pre cum, which makes your mouth water at the sight.
Before leaving the house, you decided you want to have a night to remember. And you hold on to that determination when you keep pushing Mingyu’s buttons.
"I want to help, but I don’t know how…" you take his cock in your hand and pump it slowly. He shudders at the stimulation. "Can you teach me how to do it, dear husband?" Your saccharine voice makes something twist inside of Mingyu. He takes in your doe eyes and semi innocent smile, quickly catching on what you’re doing. The man chuckles in pleasant disbelief, he knows he’s in for a treat.
"My pretty girl needs guidance?" His big hand starts to guide yours as you masturbate him. You’re sitting on his beefy thighs and you can feel him trembling as you increase the speed of your movements. Mingyu’s eyes are closed and his mouth slightly parted, allowing some sighs to fall off easily.
You feel him twitching under your palm and his hand holds your wrist to stop you. "That’s enough, baby." His voice is breathy and it makes you happy to see how much you affect him.
"Can you do something else for me?" Mingyu asks. You nod and bat your eyelashes at him. "I need you to put your mouth around it."
You feign shock, widening your eyes and slightly gaping your mouth. Mingyu sits up a bit, and kisses you softly while kneading your thighs. "I'll help through it, pretty girl".
You slide down the bed and inch closer to his throbbing cock. "Open your mouth." Mingyu instructs and you play along.
His heavy hand grabs the back of your head and guides you to start sucking him off. He loves the wet and warm feeling of your tongue on his cock, it makes the fire in his abdomen burn hotter and hotter with each passing second.
Mingyu starts to feel hot and unbuttons his shirt, his hand leaving your to bob your head on your own for a few seconds. "You're so good at this, baby." He groans deeply and you feel arousal pool on your lace panties, his reactions turning you on even more.
When he feels he's about to cum, Mingyu pulls you away. You take a good look at your husband, taking in they way his toned chest glistened because of the thin layer of sweat. He takes off his shirt, laying bare beneath you. He looks beautiful and your heart races.
You sigh and move closer, needing to feel his lips on yours. You share a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing in sync. Mingyu guides your hips and you grind against him, his big hands giving occasional slaps on your ass.
By now, you're already soaking wet and desperate for his cock. You need Mingyu and you need him now. "Gyu, I need you".
"Need me to do what, baby?"
Of course he wasn't going to make it easy for you. You take his hand and guide it to your dripping cunt, acting shy. Mingyu runs his fingers on your lace panties and grunts when he feels just how wet you are.
Mingyu decides to play nice and slips his fingers in your panties. He glides his fingers easily, collecting your wetness while rubbing your lower lips. His middle finger settles in your clit and he circles it slowly, sending electric waves through your body.
Your head feels heavy with lust, so you let it fall on his shoulder. He keeps masturbating you until you feel on edge. When he senses you're about to cum, he stops his ministrations, earning a frustrated cry from you.
"I-I was so close" you complain with a pout. Mingyu laughs and pecks your puckered up lips.
"I promise I'm going to make you feel even better."
Mingyu reaches for the zipper on your back and undoes it in a way to expose your boobs. He grabs them and runs his thumbs on your nipples. "So perfect for me, they fit perfectly in my hands."
He attaches his lips to your right nipple and keep massaging the other. You go back to rutting each other like animals on heat. You pull his hair and let you head fall back, the familiar burning sensation running through your veins.
Mingyu decides he's had enough, so he manhandles you so you're on all fours. He stands tall behind you, admiring your exposed ass and covered cunt. Slowly, he slides your panties down your legs. You shake in anticipation.
"My beautiful wife..." he sighs. "You're going to be good to me, aren't you?" You agree quickly. "I can't wait to ruin you. To fill you up with my seed and get you pregnant." You both moan in unison.
Your heart is racing with his words. God, you'd let him do anything to you. Anything. "Please, do it."
Mingyu's cock throbs with your request. He aligns himself with your whole and sinks in slowly. You lose strength and bend your arms, exposing your ass even more. Mingyu grabs your waist to support you in place, even if his own legs were trembling with pent up desire.
He slides in and out of you, catching up speed until his unrelenting tempo makes the bed shake and hit the wall. His cock massages your inner walls in the most perfect way, hitting all the right places to put you in a lustful frenzy.
You're sure you're moaning and whining, but your heart pumps so loudly in your ears that you don't quite hear it. But Mingyu does, and it only spurs him on. He's lost in your heat, in the way you clench around him. Plus, you in that fucking wedding dress... every time his eyes glimpse at the sheer white fabric, he swears his cock gets even harder.
Mingyu slows down and pulls out of you. You let out a whimper at the loss, feeling really worked up and frustrated.
The man sits down again and pulls you on his lap, and you're so wet you sink down on him with ease. You start to ride him, your boobs bouncing deliciously for Mingyu to see.
His eyes focus on the place where you two connect. Your cunt swallows his big cock beautifully. "You're taking me so well, pretty girl".
You place your hands on his chest for support, your short nails sinking on his skin and leaving small crescent marks. "I'm close."
Mingyu snaps his hips up to meet yours, reaching even deeper within you. It only takes a few slides for you to cum.
You feel your spirit being lifted from your body and you tremble, falling into Mingyu. He places two fingers on your clit and circles it to intensify your pleasure. You're so out of it you don't even notice when Mingyu flips you both over and starts to rail you missionary, chasing after his own high.
"Fill me up, dear husband" You sigh in his ear and Mingyu shivers. "Make my pussy full of your warm cum. Give me your babies".
That's enough for Mingyu to lose it and cum with a deep moan. He shivers and start to unload inside of you, his white milk covering your abused walls. His hips slow down and he stills inside of you.
Once again, he flips you both over, and you stay on top of him again, his cock still inside of you. You kiss his neck and rub your hands on his arms while you wait for him to come down. Mingyu grabs your ass, and you know he's partially recovered. So you sit up again, still cock warming him.
When he looks up at you, you can see the admiration in his eyes. Mingyu smiles beautifully, his canines showing up and his orbs shining with something else you can't quite identify.
"I have to ask you something" He says and you smile, indicating he can keep talking. "But I have to get something first... It pains me, but I need you to slip off".
Even full of his cum, you feel empty when Mingyu slides off. The dress you're wearing is all bunched up and wet, so you take it off and throw it on the floor.
"Can you grab my panties?" You ask your husband and he gets one from your bag. He also brings a wet towel from the bathroom and cleans you up before you slide in your fresh panties. When you're both semi-clean and with underwear on, you slide into the fresh Egyptian cotton sheets.
"What did you want to ask me?" You question, feeling a bit anxious.
Mingyu bites his lower lips. He's feeling shy and self-conscious, but he musters the courage to say what he wants. "Well, this night is about celebrating our wedding, right?" You agree. "This past year's been amazing, and I really liked getting to know you better".
"Me too, Gyu" You smile, your heart beating faster.
"I know we agreed to being friends with benefits, but I realized I can't keep going like that." You have a big question mark in your eyes and Mingyu can see it, so he hurries to complete his line of thought. "I can't be friends because I'm down bad. I love you, Y/N. I never expected this to happen, but I do."
You smile and jump him. Your heart's beating like crazy and you're completely at a loss for words. "I love you too, Gyu."
You both kiss in such a soft way, it makes your heart flutter.
Mingyu's smiling widely, once again showing his canines you adore so much. "Well, I think I can ask you what I wanted then".
He pulls a black box from under the pillow, one you didn't even see him placing there. He opens the box and there lies the most beautiful engagement ring. You never really got engaged, since you hated each other back then.
Mingyu takes the ring. "I kept thinking about how I never asked you to marry me. So, will you be my queen? Will you marry me, for real this time?"
"Yes! Yes, yes... God yes!" He places the ring on your finger and you kiss again, this time with more passion.
"My queen" He places a kiss on your cheek, sighing with a dreamy smile. "We're gonna be so happy, I promise".
"I know we will, baby. I'm gonna give my best for it to happen, too".
Then, Mingyu gets up and fills another glass of champagne for you to toast your engagement. You keep talking and exchanging kisses until late hours. You're down bad, but you're sure you don't want to get up.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
© btsvt-bar, 2024
m.list ♡
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contact-guy · 11 months ago
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lol THIS ENDED UP BEING SO LONG but it's such a cute story opening that I had to draw Watson roasting Holmes's messiness for the newspaper and Holmes skillfully maneuvering his way out of having to do chores. It's all canon, even the indoor sharpshooting, except for the bit about the cold bath.
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canon text under the cut:
An anomaly which often struck me in the character of my friend Sherlock Holmes was that, although in his methods of thought he was the neatest and most methodical of mankind, and although also he affected a certain quiet primness of dress, he was none the less in his personal habits one of the most untidy men that ever drove a fellow-lodger to distraction. Not that I am in the least conventional in that respect myself. The rough-and-tumble work in Afghanistan, coming on the top of a natural Bohemianism of disposition, has made me rather more lax than befits a medical man. But with me there is a limit, and when I find a man who keeps his cigars in the coal-scuttle, his tobacco in the toe end of a Persian slipper, and his unanswered correspondence transfixed by a jack-knife into the very centre of his wooden mantelpiece, then I begin to give myself virtuous airs. I have always held, too, that pistol practice should be distinctly an open-air pastime; and when Holmes, in one of his queer humors, would sit in an arm-chair with his hair-trigger and a hundred Boxer cartridges, and proceed to adorn the opposite wall with a patriotic V. R. done in bullet-pocks, I felt strongly that neither the atmosphere nor the appearance of our room was improved by it.
Our chambers were always full of chemicals and of criminal relics which had a way of wandering into unlikely positions, and of turning up in the butter-dish or in even less desirable places. But his papers were my great crux. He had a horror of destroying documents, especially those which were connected with his past cases, and yet it was only once in every year or two that he would muster energy to docket and arrange them; for, as I have mentioned somewhere in these incoherent memoirs, the outbursts of passionate energy when he performed the remarkable feats with which his name is associated were followed by reactions of lethargy during which he would lie about with his violin and his books, hardly moving save from the sofa to the table. Thus month after month his papers accumulated, until every corner of the room was stacked with bundles of manuscript which were on no account to be burned, and which could not be put away save by their owner. One winter’s night, as we sat together by the fire, I ventured to suggest to him that, as he had finished pasting extracts into his common-place book, he might employ the next two hours in making our room a little more habitable. He could not deny the justice of my request, so with a rather rueful face he went off to his bedroom, from which he returned presently pulling a large tin box behind him. This he placed in the middle of the floor and, squatting down upon a stool in front of it, he threw back the lid. I could see that it was already a third full of bundles of paper tied up with red tape into separate packages.
“There are cases enough here, Watson,” said he, looking at me with mischievous eyes. “I think that if you knew all that I had in this box you would ask me to pull some out instead of putting others in.”
“These are the records of your early work, then?” I asked. “I have often wished that I had notes of those cases.”
“Yes, my boy, these were all done prematurely before my biographer had come to glorify me.” He lifted bundle after bundle in a tender, caressing sort of way. “They are not all successes, Watson,” said he. “But there are some pretty little problems among them. Here’s the record of the Tarleton murders, and the case of Vamberry, the wine merchant, and the adventure of the old Russian woman, and the singular affair of the aluminium crutch, as well as a full account of Ricoletti of the club-foot, and his abominable wife. And here—ah, now, this really is something a little recherchè.”
He dived his arm down to the bottom of the chest, and brought up a small wooden box with a sliding lid, such as children’s toys are kept in. From within he produced a crumpled piece of paper, and old-fashioned brass key, a peg of wood with a ball of string attached to it, and three rusty old disks of metal.
“Well, my boy, what do you make of this lot?” he asked, smiling at my expression.
“It is a curious collection.”
“Very curious, and the story that hangs round it will strike you as being more curious still.”
“These relics have a history then?”
“So much so that they are history.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Sherlock Holmes picked them up one by one, and laid them along the edge of the table. Then he reseated himself in his chair and looked them over with a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.
“These,” said he, “are all that I have left to remind me of the adventure of the Musgrave Ritual.”
I had heard him mention the case more than once, though I had never been able to gather the details. “I should be so glad,” said I, “if you would give me an account of it.”
“And leave the litter as it is?” he cried, mischievously. “Your tidiness won’t bear much strain after all, Watson. But I should be glad that you should add this case to your annals, for there are points in it which make it quite unique in the criminal records of this or, I believe, of any other country. A collection of my trifling achievements would certainly be incomplete which contained no account of this very singular business.
-The Memories of Sherlock Holmes: The Musgrave Ritual
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teddypines · 3 months ago
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Weekend alone
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Summary: Y/N and Bruce have the house to themselves so they think watching a movie or show would be a good idea, until things take a different turn.
Bruce Wayne x Fem!reader.
Warnings: SMUT! 18+ MDNI, please and if you do not my problem. Use of vibrator, bit of degrading, i think. Let me know if i missed something.
Note: So.... First time doing smut. I hope it's good, i hope you enjoy it. Tips are always welcome!
Art/picture's are from Pinterest, credits go to whoever made it. I just put it together like this.
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It was an odd acuranse for Bruce and Y/N to have the whole house for themselves. Yet it happened to them. All the kids out of the house doing their own things with friends, partners or just something by themselves. Even Alfred went out for the weekend, going on a well-deserved vacation to a butler convention. Even the animals did their own things as Bruce and Y/N tried to figure out what to do for the day. Not wanting to do a lot since it was Sunday, which meant a lazy day for Bruce and Y/N to bond and recharge for the next week.
“We could watch a new show or movie downstairs.” Bruce suggested. Knowing fully well that they would never watch something new without the kids and will probably circle back to one of their favorite shows and or movies. “Yeah, but the bed is so warm and cozy right now. I don’t want to leave.” Y/N answered as she snuggled into Bruce’s side a bit more. Bruce laughed a bit and booped her nose. “Alright then, we can watch a show or movie here in bed. I did put in a tv in the room that we barely use.” 
“Can we watch Steven Universe?” Y/N asked Bruce, not even bothered that they watched Steven Universe multiple times and it wasn’t a new show or movie. “Please, Brucie, please.” Giving Bruce her puppy eyes. Bruce looked at Y/N and sighed. “You really want to watch Steven Universe again over watching something new? Something that, I don't know, needs to be checked before we watch it with the children?” 
“Steven Universe." Y/N answered. “Because all I wanna do is see you turn into a giant woman.” Bruce could only laugh a bit at Y/N quoting the show. “Or we can watch something that is a bit less gem related. We could watch that show with the angels and demons.” Bruce said as he pulled away from Y/N to find the remote to the tv in his nightstand. 
“Be more specific, Love. There are multiple shows with angels and demons.” Y/N responded. Turning on her side to watch Bruce look for the remote. “The one where they are lovers.” Bruce added. “Still not specific enough, love.” Bruce sighed and rolled his eyes. feeling a bit frustrated about not finding the remote or the show he ment.
“Do you want me to list them off?” Y/N asked, wanting to help Bruce with finding the show or movie he ment. Bruce only nodded his head as he continued his search for the remote. “Okay, so we have ‘Good Omens’, ‘Supernatural’, ‘Lucifer’ I think ‘Vampire diaries’, ‘Buffy the vampire slayer’ ehm…. that one show with the witches. Yeah no I think that’s it.” Y/N listed off all the shows she could think of. Bruce was a bit baffled about all the shows with angels and demons that were lovers or had other lovers. He dropped the remote on the floor. “Yeah… ehm… Let’s just watch Sherlock.” “Okiedokie, which one?” 
Bruce looked at Y/N, wanting to give up on watching a show or movie all together. “The one with Rdj?..” Bruce answered. “First or second one?” Y/N asked again. Bruce leaned against the headboard in shock. “Jeez women stop asking so many questions, I just want to watch Sherlock Holmes and snuggle with you!” He answered. “So…. I can pick the Sherlock version?” “Yes! Just pick, please.” Y/N giggled and put on the first Sherlock Holmes movie with Rdj in it after grabbing the remote from Bruce’s hands. 
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“I don’t like Irene.” Y/N commented after Irene just tricked Sherlock into doing her dirty work. Bruce laughed at her comment and kissed the side of her head. “I know you do. Good thing she’s not real and Sherlock ditches her.” Y/N nodded her head at Bruce’s response. “You know Sherlock only likes her somewhat because she’s interesting to him and he can’t really read her like all the other people, right?” He asked before continuing to kiss Y/N head and cheeks. “Yes, I know that, but I still don’t like her.” Y/N pouted after answering.
Bruce laughed a bit at the pout Y/N had on her face and slowly placed his hands over her thighs. “Such a pouty girl.” Y/N looked up at Bruce, sticking out her tongue. “And here I thought I was free of children for the day.” Bruce teasted. “Maybe I should teach you how to behave.” Y/N turned a bit red and quickly looked back towards the tv. “No need.”
“No need? Owh sweetheart, I think you do need to be taught a lesson in behaving.” Bruce whispered into Y/N ears. His hands moved from her thighs towards her hips, gently lifting her up and placing her into his lap. “Good girls don’t stick out their tongues.”
Before Y/N knew it Bruce had pulled off her sleep shorts and panties. “Focus on the tv, Sweetheart.” He ordered Y/N in a husky tone. Y/N could only listen and turned her focus on the tv in front of her. She could hear Bruce reach for his nightstand and grab something from one of the drawers. She had an idea of what he grabbed but had to do her best not to look. Her suspicion was however quickly confirmed when she felt something cold against her clit and a low buzzing sound started to fill the room. “There's a good girl. Keep looking at the tv, love.” Bruce smirked as Y/N started to whimper and squirming between his legs. The vibrator was on the first setting and she was already a mess.
“Bruce…” Y/N moaned as she turned her head up to look at Bruce. “Ah ah. No, Love, keep looking at the tv.” Bruce purred into her ear before turning up the vibrator, making Y/N’s breathing hitch. She moaned at the stronger sensation on her clit, the feeling of Bruce’s hard one against her back wasn’t helping either. She wanted to look at him not at the tv, but he wouldn’t let her. “Such a good girl, Sweetie.” The way Bruce said those words didn’t help Y/N at all, the feeling between her legs only getting stronger and stronger.
Bruce looked back at the tv enjoying the movie once again as he kept the vibrator on Y/N’s clit. Changing the levels every once in a while, going from really low to the highest and everything in between just to tease her. Making sure she wouldn’t come or look away from the tv. Holding her tightly against his chest.
“Bruce… Please~” Y/N whined as she could feel herself getting close again. “Please, please.”
“Please what, love? What do you want?” Bruce asked, adding to the teasing, wanting to hear her say what she wanted in this messy state. “Please, want to come.” Y/N barely got out as Bruce turned up the vibrator once again. “Yeah? You want to come, love? but I don't think you have learned your lesson just yet.” Bruce answered Y/N plea. The way she started to shake in his lap made him want to continue this little teasing game. “Please Brucie, please, i'll be a good girl. A really good girl.”
“Hmmm, are you? Are you going to be my good girl?” Bruce asked after placing a kiss on Y/N’s shoulder when she nodded to his question. “Alright, love, come for me, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come.” The moment Bruce told Y/N it was okay to come, she came. She arched her back against Bruce and moaned out his name. Bruce was pleased by Y/N coming like this and the sight alone made him come inside his sweatpants.
After a little while of calming down Y/N turned over in Bruce’s arms. “You’re mean,” She whispered. “But I love you more. Now let me make you feel good too.” She said before getting onto her knees, only to be stopped by Bruce. “No need for that love, you already made me feel really good.” He gestured down at his crotch where a noticeable dark spot was. Y/N looked at it and could only laugh. “Did I really make you come by just letting you toy with me?”
“Maybe.” Bruce smirked and pulled Y/N towards him for a kiss.
“Come on, let's get cleaned up and get some snacks so we can finish this movie.” Bruce said as he picked Y/N up and started to carry her towards the bathroom. Y/N smiled and nodded her head. “I’d like that a lot.” 
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theorangepdf · 6 months ago
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i went to the nostalgia convention and everyone knew your name and remembered when you went last year and we get why you couldn't make it this time around but it made everyone a little wistful like last year was so fun we wish we could all be together again :/
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hotvintagepoll · 8 months ago
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LAST POLL OF ROUND 6
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Propaganda
Ingrid Bergman (Gaslight, Casablanca, Notorious)—A lot of the time hotness in a movie is just about words and framing. "You're the most beautiful person here" [vaseline lens] well I sure hope so because that's who you cast. But when, in Casablanca, they call Ingrid Bergman the most beautiful woman in the world... they were not fucking lying. And such a dynamite actor too!! I'd only seen Casablanca up until last year, and there she's confined to love interest. But in Gaslight she was maybe one of the most incredible actors I've ever seen!!!! Goddddd shes so fucking hot and cool.
Lauren Bacall (To Have and Have Not, The Big Sleep, Key Largo)—"Just put your lips together...and blow" excuse me ma'am i'm briefly going to turn into a kettle. She's the quintessential Femme Fatale who may betray me in the end but I'd let her it'd be worth it
This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Ingrid Bergman:
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God, she's fantastic. She's both beautiful and a compelling actor who's more than capable of putting the whole movie on her shoulders if necessary. It's worth noting that while her beauty is conventional, she was seen as refreshingly "natural" with more eyebrows and less makeup than many other leading ladies of the time. She's well known for her role in Casablanca, but in Notorious, Spellbound, (both available on archive.org ) and Gaslight (1944) she shows how immensely capable she is.
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I mean...she's Ingrid Bergman. I feel like that should be enough, you know? She's physically beautiful (her eyes!) but watching her is like a transcendent experience. Her voice, her expressions... beautiful woman, beautiful actor.
I'm a gay man but even I understand her appeal. I'll watch any movie she shows up in. Gorgeous woman.
Just try and watch her movies without sighing wistfully, then get back to me!
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Choosing 1-3 movies where Bergman was at her hottest was agony because, of course, she was always at her hottest. Not just because she was beautiful but because she was absolutely willing to go up against the bs women in Hollywood were constantly dealing with. When exiled from Hollywood for having an affair with Roberto Rossellini, not only did she refuse to apologize at any point, but she went on to say that Hollywood's films had grown stagnant and boring to her. Though she said she appreciated her time working there, she wanted to try new, different techniques (hence starring in Italian neorealist films, working on stage, and acting under directors like Ingmar Bergman). She was not afraid to chase after her artistic ideals and go outside the box regardless of what society had to say about it. From her first movie to her last she killed it. There's so much more to say about Bergman's career and life, but I've already written five million words so I'll stop at that.
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One of the most incredible actors I've ever seen on film. Her facial expressions are so intricate and poignant that I cannot look away. I'm either ace or straight, but damn she made me question that.
SEVEN TIME OSCAR NOMINEE QUEEN. Girl also PULLED, having affairs with famously hot men Gary Cooper and Gregory Peck IN ADDITION to her three marriages...sexy
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She has a very natural beauty to her, and she's from Sweden!
She left Hollywood and only became more beautiful. You could drown in her eyes. She can look innocent AND like she's seen it all. She is effortlessly elegant. She's played Joan of Arc (automatically hot) AND was in the movie that coined gaslight as a term. And where would we be without that!
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She was known for being a breath of fresh air on the movie scene at the time with her windswept hair, dreamy smile and soulful eyes. I have loved her in every movie I have seen her in - she was just magnetic!
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Where do I even start. There's a neighborly quality to this beautiful, talented actress that makes her hotness one of a kind and her looks impossible to forget
With a career spanning five decades, Bergman is often regarded as one of the most influential screen figures in cinematic history. Known for her naturally luminous beauty, Bergman spoke five languages – Swedish, English, German, Italian and French – and acted in each.
She's hot, don't get me wrong, but I've always found her very approachable, like she could easily be a member of my friend group
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Where do I even begin with Ingrid Bergman? I fell in love with her with her astounding performance in the 1956 version of Anastasia -- the best Anastasia movie in large part due to her wonderful and touching performance. She's got this amazing, fascinating intensity to her in whatever role she's in. She commits 100%, and she's got this light in whatever she's in that's stunning. She's utterly convincing no matter what she plays, from an amnesiac possible lost princess, from a nun, from a woman taking her revenge on the town that wronged her, to light romantic comedy. She's never missed in any role I've seen her in! Also she became quite the MILF.
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Lauren Bacall:
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"She is soooo neat. And hot. And everything. That one scene in To Have and Have Not where she says "you know how to whistle don't you? You just put your lips together and blow" altered my brain chemistry during media archaeology class and here we are."
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"The VOICE, the SLINK, the EYES. Woof."
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"Lauren Bacall was a major lesbian awakening for me. Every picture of her makes it look like she’s about to destroy you physically and emotionally (why is that so hot, I may need help). She had incredible long running chemistry with her husband, Humphrey Bogart, but was an absolute star in her own right. I’ll never be over my crush on her."
youtube
"She's got that confident, no-nonsense air about her. She's a boss babe who knows what she wants and gets it DONE. Staunch liberal Democrat her whole life. Campaigned for RFK. From Wikipedia: "In a 2005 interview with Larry King, Bacall described herself as "anti-Republican... A liberal. The L-word". She added that "being a liberal is the best thing on Earth you can be. You are welcoming to everyone when you're a liberal. You do not have a small mind."" Beautiful hair. Beautiful eyes. Beautiful lips. She's just beauty. LISTEN TO HER VOICE. TELL ME THAT'S NOT THE STUFF THAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF."
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deliciousangelfestival · 4 months ago
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The Imperfect Couple - 6
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Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader
Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.
Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.
Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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“How long have you known him?” Bucky’s voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp, watching every reaction.
“Five years,” you answered, keeping your tone steady. You didn’t want him to pick up on any hint of tension.
Bucky frowned, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at him. Ian seemed like a typical journalist, but something else about him gnawed at Bucky's instincts.
He rarely interacted with foreign reporters, so why did Ian’s presence feel… off? He was sure he'd figure out why this feeling wouldn't leave him.
Before either of you could say more, Greg appeared, clipboard in hand, and gave you both a pointed look. “Alright, you two, time to get ready. The event’s about to start. Let’s make sure everything runs smoothly.”
You nodded, feeling the butterflies in your stomach begin to stir. You’d been on stages before, but not like this. Not with Bucky, not under the gaze of an entire country.
Bucky noticed your hesitation and moved closer, placing a firm hand on your lower back. “It’s going to be fine,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. “I’ve got you.”
You looked up at him, trying to read his eyes. Was he just saying that for the cameras? Or was there something deeper there? It was getting harder to tell. You nodded anyway, more for yourself than for him, and straightened up. You had to play your part, just as you always did.
At the Convention
The large venue buzzed with excitement, lights shining down on the stage like spotlights in an arena. When Steve Rogers walked up to the podium, the room went silent, all eyes on him. He was the golden candidate—charismatic, confident, the embodiment of what the people wanted.
The room buzzed with anticipation as Steve Rogers approached the podium, every eye in the venue locked onto him. He stood tall, his presence commanding, radiating the quiet strength he was known for. After a brief moment, he began speaking, his voice steady but filled with passion.
"Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Americans," Steve’s voice echoed with gravitas, "Today, we stand at the threshold of a new era. We face challenges that require not just strong leadership, but leadership rooted in integrity, honor, and the unyielding belief in the power of the people."
The crowd quieted further, hanging on his every word.
"For too long, we’ve watched division grow. But I believe in the strength of unity, the strength of standing together—one nation, bound by a shared responsibility to protect our freedom, our families, and our future. And I pledge to lead with the same unwavering commitment that I’ve given to this country my entire life."
He took a brief pause, allowing his words to sink in, then continued, his tone growing more impassioned.
"I am not just here as a candidate, but as a father, a husband, and a son," he said, gesturing toward his wife, Peggy, and their children standing nearby, his parents behind them. "I want a better world for my family—just as I want a better world for yours. A world where opportunity isn’t reserved for the few but shared by the many. A world where every child grows up in safety, with access to education, health, and the opportunity to pursue their dreams."
The applause began to rise, but Steve held his hand up gently, signaling for quiet once more.
"This is not just my campaign. This is our campaign. Together, we will fight for a future that respects the dignity of every individual. We will build an America where justice is not selective but a right for all. Where leadership is about service—not power."
His voice crescendoed, igniting the room.
"Because I believe in us. I believe in the promise of America, and I believe in the strength of the American people. Together, we will rise to meet the challenges of today, and together, we will create a brighter, fairer, and stronger tomorrow."
The room erupted into thunderous applause as Steve’s words settled over the crowd. He stepped back, waving, as Peggy and their children joined him at the front of the stage, a living testament to the family values he championed.
With that, Steve Rogers sealed the moment—an electrifying speech that echoed far beyond the walls of the convention hall.
The crowd erupted into applause as Steve stepped aside, making way for Bucky.
Now it was his turn.
You watched as Bucky walked to the podium with the practiced ease of a man who was born for this. His dark suit was perfectly tailored, the overhead lights catching the sharp angles of his face. As soon as he began speaking, the room hushed again.
“I want to thank everyone for being here today,” Bucky started, his voice strong, yet warm. “Serving alongside Steve has been the honor of my life, and I am proud to stand here as the candidate for Vice President. My family—my parents Julius and Caroline, my siblings Shawn and Hazel, my nephew Nate, and my brother-in-law Tim—are with me today.” He motioned to the side, where they all stood. Caroline’s expression was as rigid as ever, while Julius offered a rare smile.
Then Bucky’s eyes found you.
“And of course, my wife. She’s been my rock. She’s stood by me through the hardest times, and I can’t imagine being here without her.” His voice softened, but the sincerity in his words cut through the noise in your head.
You smiled on cue, the kind of smile you’d perfected over years of practice. But inside, everything felt muddled. Bucky spoke as though you were his whole world, but you knew the truth. This was a performance. A calculated move to protect his image.
The applause was thunderous, but it sounded far away as you fought the emotions swirling inside you. Bucky looked the part—strong, dependable, built for this kind of role. He was doing everything right.
But you? You were pretending. The smile you wore for the cameras wasn’t for him; it was for the part of you that wanted to see Caroline suffer, to see her envy every look Bucky gave you on that stage. But underneath the spite, you felt something deeper, something far more complicated.
'Can I really keep doing this?' The question lodged itself in your mind as the applause rang out again.
You watched Bucky continue his speech, looking every bit the man of the moment. He thrived in this atmosphere, while you felt like you were drowning in a sea of lies. Every glance from the audience, every flash from the cameras, reminded you that none of this was real.
When he finished, the room erupted in applause again. Bucky turned to you, offering his hand. The warmth of his palm against yours was meant to be reassuring, but it only deepened your confusion.
As you both exited the stage, his grip tightened slightly, just enough for you to notice. He leaned down, voice low in your ear. “You did great,” he whispered. His words were laced with a strange tenderness that made your stomach flip.
You nodded, but deep down, the weight of this act was crushing you.
🌸🌸🌸🌸
As the convention wrapped up and the crowd began to disperse, you and Bucky maneuvered Tim’s wheelchair carefully. The excitement of the day was still buzzing in the air, but you could sense the underlying tension between Bucky and Ian as Ian approached you and Tim.
Ian greeted you with a friendly smile. “Hey, I’m working on a piece about the election from the perspective of the candidates’ families. What’s it like for you and your family during all this?”
Bucky, standing beside you, made a subtle move to place himself between you and Ian, a protective gesture that didn't go unnoticed. “I’m not sure if that’s appropriate,” Bucky began, but Tim cut him off.
“Of course! I’ve never been interviewed before. It’ll be good to share my side,” Tim said eagerly, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.
Bucky looked at Tim, then at you, his frustration evident in the tightness of his jaw. He sighed and stepped aside, unable to argue with Tim’s excitement or your reluctance to refuse a friend’s request.
Ian turned to you, his expression curious. “You never mentioned your brother before. It’s clear you two have a strong bond.”
“She’s a private person,” Tim interjected with a hint of pride.
Ian raised an eyebrow, glancing back at you. “You really seem to know her well.”
“We may not always show it, but we’re very close. She’s been like a second mother to me, especially after I lost my leg,” Tim said, his voice carrying an unusual warmth.
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at the unexpected praise from your brother. It was rare to hear him speak so openly about his feelings.
Ian smiled as he jotted down notes. “This story is going to resonate with a lot of people.”
After a while, Tim excused himself, leaving you and Ian alone. Ian’s demeanor shifted subtly, becoming more serious.
“Thanks for giving him the chance to speak,” you said with a slight edge. “You know, it feels like you just handed him a chance to embarrass me.”
Ian chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. “Isn’t that what siblings do? Cherish these moments of difference before it’s too late.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean,-?”
Before you could ask, Ian pulled you aside, his face set with determination. “I heard there’s a divorce in your marriage.”
You stiffened, your eyes widening in surprise. “How did you find out?”
Ian’s smirk was almost smug. “Don’t underestimate my skills. You vanished, then reappeared, acting like everything’s perfect. I pieced it together from the campaign.”
He leaned closer, his frustration evident. “Not once did you mention him. And now, suddenly, you’re playing the loving wife. It’s irritating.”
You crossed your arms, feeling a wave of anger and discomfort. “Are you planning to use this information?”
Ian’s expression softened, though his eyes were intense. “I don’t know yet. But a few people already know.”
You flinched at his words, a shiver running down your spine.
Ian’s voice dropped to a reassuring whisper. “Don’t worry. They’ve only heard rumors. No one has solid evidence. I could protect you. Because you deserve someone better.”
You gulped, unable to speak. Ian’s concern seemed genuine, but you couldn’t shake off the pain from your marriage with Bucky. Your emotions were still tangled, and you didn’t want to get involved with Ian’s feelings, especially now.
You glanced up and saw Bucky watching you from across the room. His eyes were locked on you, his gaze sharp and intense. It felt like he was assessing every movement, every word. The tension in his stare made your heart race, and you could almost feel his frustration and jealousy from afar.
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As the car sped through the night, the backseat felt increasingly cramped, the air thick with unspoken tension. You stared out the window, trying to avoid Bucky’s piercing gaze. The city lights flickered past, a blur of neon and shadows, as you stewed over the conversation with Ian and the unresolved questions it left.
Bucky's silence was more oppressive than any words. His jaw was set tight, and the muscles in his neck were rigid. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold, laced with an edge of command. “Don’t meet Ian anymore.”
You continued to look out the window, your reflection a ghostly image against the darkened glass. “He knew about the divorce,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Bucky’s breath hitched, his grip on the seat tightening. He was silent for a moment, the weight of your revelation settling in. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Well, that means I’m on the right track. Every politician has skeletons in their closet.”
You turned your head sharply to face him, eyes narrowing. “You’re not afraid if the rumor leaks out?”
Bucky’s gaze remained steady, but his jaw tightened slightly. “I’m not gonna lie, I am afraid. But I’m more worried about how it’ll affect you.” He paused “But look at the bright side. It narrows down the list of people who knew about our marriage.”
You turned to him, eyes narrowing in frustration. “You’re playing with fire, Bucky.”
He leaned closer, the space between you shrinking rapidly. His expression softened into a smirk, but his eyes held a dangerous glint. “I’ll win this for you. I still remember that moment when you wished me to win, just to spite my mother. I need that brave Y/N.”
You could feel the heat from his body, his breath mingling with yours as he drew nearer. The car’s dim lighting accentuated the intensity in his eyes, a smoldering gaze that made your pulse quicken. “Don’t make this about me,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
Bucky’s smirk deepened, and he moved even closer, his face inches from yours. “But babe, this is all for you,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl.
His proximity was overwhelming, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. You swallowed hard, the line between anger and something else entirely blurring as his lips almost brushed against yours.
Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you were caught between the anger at his manipulation and the undeniable pull of the unresolved feelings you still harbored for him. The confined space of the car seemed to shrink around you, the air charged with a mix of frustration and unspoken desire.
Bucky’s gaze locked onto yours, his smirk fading into an expression of intense focus. His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your cheek in a feather-light touch that made your skin tingle. “I need you to trust me,” he said softly, his voice carrying an almost desperate edge.
You hated him for the pain he’d caused, but his touch betrayed your emotions, making it hard to stay firm. And he knew it. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.only the charged, almost unbearable closeness between you.
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