#can you guys telli really like the shaded face jokes

[green-crocs12]

really lazy quick sketches of luffy and his parents bc i haven’t posted in forever lol (yes i believe in the crocomom theory) i hc luffy actually looks a lot like crocodile so

also i think dragon would have been a good father

[heyyyharry]

Porn

(a blurb from the My Girl Series)

…in which Harry and Y/N watch porn, but he won’t touch her.

Warning: smut (duh!)

AU: older!harry, actor!harry.

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“You can’t go a day without my pussy,” she had said to him after they’d had sex on the kitchen counter. She’d only come in here to get some juice while he was making coffee, and look how she’d ended up, with her panties on the floor, her skirt hiked up to her waist, her chest bare, and his cum slick on her inner thighs.

She didn’t even remember how it’d started.

He stood between her legs, a hand on the countertop on either side of her. A smirk peaked at the corner of his lips as he considered her with squinted eyes. “Is that a challenge?” he asked.

“It’s a fact,” she returned.

She expected him to tease back like he always would, but he only breathed out a soft laugh and pecked her on the cheek. “Get dressed,” he said. “The housekeeper might walk in.”

They spent the rest of the day in two separate rooms. He had a meeting with his dialect coach then locked himself in his library to study and practise his lines. Meanwhile, she did some research for her new book and tried to write as much as she could so her agent would stop bombarding her with phone calls, texts, and emails.

After dinner, he got a zoom meeting with his publicist, so she took a shower first and curled up in their bed, watching a porn movie on the telly while waiting for him.

He came in an hour later, his hair damp, a white towel draped over his shoulder. He cracked an amused half-smile when he saw what she was watching.

“When you said you were doing research, I didn’t expect this,” he said.

“My next book is a Fifty Shades fanfic. Don’t tell anyone.”

A laugh crackled out of him as she placed a finger on her lips to ask him to keep a secret.

When he returned to their bed a moment later and snuggled up against her, his curls were dry and falling into his forehead. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of boxers she’d bought for him last week. She thought he looked extremely sexy this way. Biting her lip, she continued to stare at him, momentarily forgetting what she’d been watching until he asked, “What position is that?”

She whipped her eyes back to the screen and burst out laughing when she saw the couple performing an advanced version of Reverse Cowgirl, in which the guy’s hips weren’t even touching the bed.

“These porn movies are so extravagant,” he commented, now sitting shoulder to shoulder with her. “Who moans like that? Literally no one. The sex scenes I’ve done are way more sensual and convincing.”

She scowled at him, and his mouth curled. “Sorry,” he said though he didn’t seem very sorry.

She smacked him on the arm and picked another movie with more realistic sex. It was fun watching bad porn because they made her laugh more than they got her off. She wished she had stuck with that, because although she was exhausted, the heat between her legs would say otherwise. On the screen, the couple were fucking like rabbits on the sofa. They were more about pleasuring each other than putting on a show, so it was extremely hard to watch without getting turned on.

She rubbed her thighs together and stole a glance at her boyfriend, whose attention was on the movie. He was pinching his lips unconsciously, the thing he did when he was nervous or turned on. Weird. She was sitting right here. If he was hard, why hadn’t he touched her already?

She dropped her head to his shoulder and started tracing the tattoo on his arm, watching goosebumps pimpled his skin. It normally worked. He should have pinned her down on the bed by now. And if he was tired, he would let her sit on his face or let her ride him; Harry never said no to sex.

She would just let this slide if she wasn’t so horny and frustrated and angry. She leaned in closer, intentionally letting her breast brush against his arm. She was only wearing a sheer white babydoll chemise, which she knew he loved. It was astonishing that he hadn’t made any comment about it.

“Baby…”

“Shhh! I'm watching!” He covered her mouth with his hand while his eyes stayed fixed on the screen, his brows drawn together thoughtfully.

Surprised and frustrated, she licked his palm and he immediately shrank back and wiped the saliva onto her thigh.

She batted his hand away, her gaze skipping between him and the screen. “Why are you watching porn like it’s a cinematic masterpiece?” she huffed, tugging at his shirt.

He still didn’t look at her. “You're being disrespectful to these hardworking porn stars."

She crossed her arms over her chest and sunk into the pillow. “Maybe I should become a porn star so you’d pay attention to me."

He said nothing.

"I'm sorry, okay? For whatever I did or said," she said angrily. "Can you stop now?"

Still nothing.

"This is not funny, Harry!”

This time, when he softly shushed her, he placed a hand at the back of her head and stroked her hair like she was a cat. She knew he couldn't stay in character for too long. But this wasn't enough. She wanted all of his attention.

"When I asked you to watch porn with me, I didn't mean to actually watch porn," she said, resting her cheek against his arm.

His eyes suddenly searched her face, the look made her flustered. Arching an eyebrow, he said, "You told me I couldn't go a day without your pussy. It's only been a few hours and you're already asking to get fucked. Make up your mind, Bambi."

She jolted with a start, her mouth fell open. "I said it as a joke!"

He shrugged and turned back to the screen.

She continued to glare at him while he kept a straight face and began to comment as though they were watching a documentary. "Wow, look at that. Remember when I fucked you like that?"

"Arsehole," she muttered as a smirk crept up to his stupid face. She wasn't sure if she wanted to kick him or suck his dick. Maybe both. The moaning and slapping of skin from the video didn't really help in this situation.

Back straightened, she cleared her throat. “So you wouldn’t even touch me if I was naked?”

No answer.

She bit her lip and reached her hand under the cover to feel his dick over his boxers. He showed no emotions, still playing this game, but from the way he gulped, she knew he was destined to lose.

"You're hard."

"Great observation," he said smugly. "As you can see, I'm watching porn."

"Well, I'm wet," she whispered seductively despite his indifference. "And I hate to fuck myself right here right now because my boyfriend's a dick and he's ignoring me."

When he didn’t respond, she exhaled sharply and pushed his legs apart to sit between them, leaning against his chest. He let her do as she pleased but didn’t touch her. His hands remained on his thighs, his eyes fixed on the telly. When she pulled the chemise over her head and sat completely naked between his legs, he grabbed her hips only to push her to the side so he could continue watching. She stubbornly leaned left and right to block his view until his indifference got on her nerves.

She spread her thighs, draping each of her legs over his, her head tipped back on his shoulder as she moved her hand under the duvet and started touching herself.

At first, she only wanted to mess with him, but somehow this situation turned her on. She was gasping into the crook of his neck with two fingers curled inside of her. He hadn’t made a sound. She didn’t look up to check if he was watching her getting herself off, but from the way his palm twitched before he squeezed his own thigh, she knew he was going to give in one way or another.

She moaned louder, her free arm curled around his neck, her face pressed into his hot skin as she nipped the sweet spot below his ear. If he wasn’t going to touch her, she was going to touch him and drive him crazy until he lost it and had to fuck her. She knew how to play this game. And he was already hard, his cock poking at her lower back.

Eventually, he gave in. Not entirely, but he couldn’t keep his hands off hers any longer. He started by stroking her legs. She’d been craving for his touch, so just the warmth of his hands could make her flinch and pant heavily. He shushed her, his mouth at her ear. She could smell the champagne in his breath which turned her on even more. She was pretty sure the noises she made had drowned out the porn playing in the background.

“Slow down. Do not come yet,” he whispered into her ear. She shivered, biting her lip and giving a nod. “Look at you, Bambi.” She could feel a smirk in his dark tone. “Is this how good girls should behave?”

“You...were naughty first,” she argued, her lashes fluttering. The couple on the screen was doing missionary now. The girl was wailing as she came. Harry didn’t allow her to cum, so she had to chew on her lip and fight the urge to rub her clit.

“Why?” he asked in a fake concerning tone. “Because I didn’t pay attention to you? You couldn’t have my attention so you decided to misbehave?”

“You’re a dick,” she gasped. His faint laugh made her stomach clench and her walls close around her fingers.

“That’s not how you call me, love.”

Slowly, his hand made its way up up to her slick inner thigh and then he placed his palm on her lower stomach, not touching her where she wanted him to. Her breath caught as he grabbed a handful of her breast and started toying with her nipple.

His other hand curled under her thigh, spreading it to give her more access so she could do the work on her own.

She hated him. She loved him. She wanted him.

“Eyes on the screen,” he commanded, cupping her chin gently and tilting her head upward, his lips hot against her ear. “Remember when I fucked you like that?” he asked. “Just this morning. In this bed.” The girl on the screen was lying on her stomach, arse up, as the guy held her wrists together at her back and slammed into her mercilessly.

“Yes…”

Harry chuckled. He knew how good it’d felt for her. She’d bit onto the sheet when she came, wetting his dick. The memory worked better than the actual scene before her eyes. She arched her back and pumped her fingers faster, stroking her clit with her free hand.

“Stop,” he said roughly, but she didn’t listen. She fucked herself hard and cried into his neck. His breathing came ragged. She knew he was frustrated and annoyed. A triumph grin spread across her face, then she came hard, gasping his name, his massive hand squeezed her hip as he buried his face into her neck, groaning loudly as if he could feel it, too. His chest rose and fell unsteadily against her. His cock jerked at her lower back.

She didn’t have the strength to deny him for denying her. Now that she’d made herself cum, she only wanted him more. They both knew it never finished without his cum dripping out of her.

“You okay?”

She heard his raspy voice and tipped her head back to look up. His face was right above hers, his lips parted, ghosting over hers. His cheeks were flushed, and he was taking short breaths. He grasped her wrist and pulled her fingers out of her sensitive cunt. She watched him intensely as he brought her hand to his mouth and sucked and licked her two fingers clean while holding her gaze.

She couldn’t help it anymore. She cupped his cheek and pressed her lips to his, her mouth opened, her tongue sliding against his, heat pooling between her legs as if she hadn’t just cum a minute ago. He only broke the kiss to pull his shirt over his head, and she wasted no time to free his cock from his boxers. He was leaking precum and it made her mouth water. She wanted to taste it. Suddenly, he grabbed her by the hips and lifted her off him.

“On your stomach,” he demanded.

She shook her head wordlessly and reached for his cock. He quickly caught her wrists and tugged her up so they were face to face. “Not now.”

“But I want–”

“I’d cum if you put your mouth on me, Bambi,” he rasped, sounding almost helpless.

She clenched at the words and nodded as she scooted toward him on her knees, hands on his shoulders. “Let me ride you. I wanna see your face.”

His laugh turned into an exaggerated, ‘aww’ that made her want to punch him. Instead, she shoved at his chest and he dropped onto his back, hands on her knees as she straddled his thighs. She reached out and grasped his cock, stroking him just once, just to spread her wetness over him.

“Am I a good girl now?” she asked, her head cocked to the side.

“I don’t know. Show me,” he replied with a smirk.

She hitched herself up over his lap and slid down onto his cock, so suddenly that he jolted and dug his fingers into her bum. She rode him hard, holding his gaze. The way he grinned with his mouth open made her moan and squeeze around him. She hated how she was the one riding him but he still managed to have the upper hand.

He let her have her fun for a moment before grasping her bum and thrusting into her hard and fast. She cried out and fell onto his chest, their mouths meeting with more sloppy kisses.

“You like this, huh?” he panted into her ear, her fingers digging into his shoulders as an answer while he fucked into her, taking full control now. She nodded wildly before propping herself back up with her palms on his chest. Seeing the ink on his torso glistening with sweat made her stomach flip and her knees go numb. He circled his arm around her waist and hitched her up, drawing a gasp out of her before his mouth was on her throat as he pumped her on his dick.

“Yes, Daddy, yes.”

He didn’t stop, but his hips faltered for a second.

“What was that?” he asked, dropping his head to suck one of her nipples into his mouth. She could tell he’d been wanting to do this all night. She gasped and clenched around him. She had really sensitive nipples and he adored them.

“Daddy,” she whimpered, rolling her hips. He met her pleading stare and groaned. He knew she was close.

He sighed against her lips but didn’t object when she got one hand between them, two fingers on her clit, rubbing hard the way he would. He loved to make her cum but he also loved watching her touch herself.

She came first, stars exploding behind her eyelids as he fucked her through it and cum inside her, hips jerking up off the bed. Curses spilled from his lips and her own as they both collapsed, her on top of him, his arms tightened around her waist.

She was pretty sure she’d passed out for a second or two until she felt the warmth of his hands against the cool skin of her exposed back. She opened her eyes, cheek resting against his chest as her eyes searched his face. His cheeks dimpled as their eyes locked.

“You’re so spoiled now. Always getting your way,” he said, breathless.

She propped her head up and pouted. “You have to let me win because you’re older. That’s the rule.”

He contemplated her face with an arched eyebrow. “So I have to let you win because I’m older, but I’m not allowed to call you a child when you act like one?”

“Correct.” She nodded and combed her fingers through his hair, pushing his sweaty curls out of his forehead. “I need you to include that in your wedding vows.”

“My wedding vows,” he echoed, his mouth curled.

“Only if I say yes, though,” she clarified, lifting her chin.

“Only if I ask,” he smugly replied.

She glared at him before leaning down and kissing him again. Suddenly, he pushed her away, fingers still in her hair but his eyes were on the telly. “Look, Bambi.”

“What?” She whipped her head around, slightly annoyed by the interruption.

He chuckled softly. “They’re still going at it.”

[berrynarrybanana]

pink lemonade

A/n: I...had a cliche moment of I wrote this and it got deleted bc my computer had a hissy fit while I was trying to find a good pic to use. All I want to say is that I spent weeks agonizing over this piece because I wasn’t sure that it was good enough and that it touched on bi!reader as much as it should. I started it out in Harry’s POV and it kind of just took off from there. This is very heavily based off a song from one of my favorite bands. It’s called pink lemonade by the wombats and it really gave me inspiration to write this whole fic and for my reader and flatmate!h. I hope that I did this justice, because as a bi woman, I know how little representation we get in media and in fics. So thank you to the beautiful @bopbopstyles and @harrysclementines for hosting a challenge that made me feel included. I really appreciate and love you both so much! 

warnings: smut, drug use mention, angst, harry’s pov

word count: 4.3k+

Please enjoy and feel free to tell me what you think! 

Friday Night 

Harry remembers the day he met his flatmate. 

She was a little shorter than him, but her personality definitely made her seem much taller. She had her hair up in a messy bun, her Rolling Stones shirt tucked in, and her jeans cuffed at the bottom. She introduced herself to him with a dazzling smile and a witty joke about being a stereotypical bisexual being. It made him laugh, pulling her into a hug (after asking her permission) because they were going to be flatmates and she needed to know he was a hugger. He didn’t want to start off on an awkward note with a person he would be spending so much time with. He suggested they order some pizza and drink wine on the floor of their living room on their first night. 

Their furniture hadn’t been delivered or moved in yet, so they had to settle for putting a few of y/n’s pillows under their bums while they watched comedy specials on Harry’s laptop. A majority of their evening was spent giggling and sharing stories about their previous experiences with old girlfriends. He found it oddly comforting that the beautiful girl was a little bit different, because he had always felt that way in life. With her, he didn’t feel so alone in being different. Perhaps that was one of the things that made him fall in love with her. She was a bright, radiant soul that brought him more joy than anyone else ever had. But she could be a bit thick, sometimes. 

As he watched her prance around their apartment in her tight mini-dress, he tried his best not to let her see his obvious attraction to her. 

The pillow on his lap would seem obvious to just about anyone else, but not to his precious flatmate. She practically floated through life, oblivious to how people looked at her when she moved. She was like a walking porn ad, her beautiful hair and gorgeous smile nearly impossible to ignore. He tried not to focus too hard on what she was wearing, but christ, it was hard not to. Her legs looked a little longer due to the black heeled booties she’d put on and she was most definitely wearing tights with little sparkles in the fabric. 

He hated seeing her dressed up like this, knowing that he wouldn’t be the one sliding his hands up her dress in the backseat of the taxi on the way home. He wouldn’t be the one gripping at her thighs while she straddled him on their shared couch. He wouldn’t be the one making her scream, unable to contain herself as he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of her. He hated that she was wearing the perfect shade of red on her lips, a shade that painted the walls of the prison cell in his own personal hell inside. He wanted to smear it off her lips with his own, kissing her until she was breathless and begging. 

Instead, he flipped through the channels on the telly, pretending to pay attention.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come out, Harry?” She stood in front of him, pouting her lips out as she tilted her head to the side. He shook his head as she crossed her arms, the gesture pushing her breasts up just a little. Fuck me, Harry thought. “You love going out!” 

“I know, love.” He grumbled, glancing behind her as if she was in the way. “But I’m not really in the mood to party tonight and I don’t want to bring the mood down.” 

“Well, I don’t feel right going out without you.” She sighed, dropping her arms to the side, causing Harry to look up at her. “Maybe I should stay home? We can order takeout and-” 

“Absolutely not.” He shook his head. “You have a date. You can’t stand him up!” 

“He’s just some rando from Tinder, I really don’t care about his feelings.,H.” She snorted out a laugh, rolling those perfect eyes as he tried to fight off a smile. “I’d rather be with you if you’re feeling down.”

“Don’t give up the chance for a good time because I’m a grumpy old man.” He shook his head. “I really want you to go out.” 

“Okay, okay.” She let out a heavy exhale, stepping farther away. “How do I look?” 

“Perfect.” He didn’t tear his eyes away from the telly, knowing he would overshare if he actually looked at her right now. 

“You didn’t even look!” She laughed around a playful groan. “Boys.” 

“I’m a man, love!” He called out as she walked into the kitchen for her keys. “If you’re too drunk, call me. Don’t go home with your random tinder date and-” 

“Lock the door when I’m home.” She nodded. “I know the rules, dad.” 

“Please do not ever call me that again.” Harry narrowed his eyes at her. “Go, get out of here and go have some fun. Tell everyone I said hi.” 

“I will!” She smiled. “Bye, roomie!” 

“Bye!” He waved, his heart sinking as the door shut behind her. “Guess I’ll be having a sad wank about that later.” 

Harry grumbled, sinking further into the cushions of their shared couch. 

                                   ******************************************

Saturday Morning 

The guy from Friday seemed to be a keeper. 

He was there the next morning when Harry was making a hangover breakfast in the kitchen for his flatmate. He strutted  in without a shirt or a word, reaching for a coffee cup as if he owned the place. Last time Harry checked, only two people paid rent here. Harry watched from the stove, spatula in hand as he glared at the man’s back. What a sodding prick. With a quick roll of his eyes, Harry pushed around the potatoes he’d chopped up earlier. Of course she brought him home. It had been weeks since she’d had a proper shag and it was bound to happen sooner or later. And even if Harry hated to admit it, the man standing in his kitchen gave it to her proper. Harry closed his eyes, cringing at memory of her moans melded with the banging of her headboard against the wall last night.

He hadn’t heard her moan out like that in a long time. Halfway through orgasm number two out of god knows how many, Harry shoved his headphones in and tried not to cry. He hated that someone else was making her feel so good that she was screaming the bloody walls down. He wanted to sink into her, to have her screaming out his name instead. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not even in his dreams could he have her, always cutting off right around the time his hands landed on her hips. 

“Oh, didn’t see you there, mate.” The guy turned around. “M’Alfie.” 

“Harry.” He grumbled, reaching up to the heat down. “Y/N’s roommate.” 

“She told me about you.” Alfie nodded. “Said you’re a right laugh when you’re drinking.” 

“Did she now?” Harry hummed as if he was actually interested in the conversation. 

“Shame you didn’t come out with us.” Alfie said. “Y/N was a fucking animal. Have you ever had sex with her? I mean she’s amazing when she’s high.” 

Harry wanted to vomit. 

This guy was a total prick.

“Yeah, what a shame.” Harry cleared his throat, glancing over at Alfie. “When Y/N wakes up, let her know that breakfast is here. She’s going to want two pieces of toast with butter.” 

“I will tell her.” Alfie sipped out of the bright pink mug and Harry’s face grew hot. That was his mug, the one that Y/N got him for Christmas last year. The little lamb on the front with a comical smile was mocking him now. “You alright, mate?” 

“Yeah, I’m stellar.” 

Harry stormed out of the kitchen and down the hall. 

He nearly made it to his door when she stumbled out of her bedroom. 

“Morning, Harry.” She yawned before smiling at her roommate. 

He didn’t respond, ducking past her and into his bedroom. 

Maybe he didn’t really know the girl he loved after all. 

                                            *******************************

Another Magical Friday Night 

Alfie, as it turns out, wasn’t a keeper. 

During their second escapade, Alfie shouting to the top of his lungs pulled Harry out of his half-asleep state. His heart sank and his blood ran cold as he sprinted out of his bedroom to Y/N’s. When he got there, Alfie was storming out of her bedroom, half dressed with a red face. Harry stood in Y/N’s doorway, avoiding her gaze as she struggled to put a t-shirt on. After a few moments, Harry couldn’t stand to hear her soft whimpers and loud sniffles. He tore his own shirt off, walking over to where she was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed in front of her. 

“S’alright,” He cooed, sitting down in front of her as he slipped his shirt over her head. “It’s okay, love.” 

“I’m sorry we woke you up.” She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to the column of his throat as she cried. “I know you have an early yoga class tomorrow.” 

“Please don’t apologize.” He said softly, rubbing his hand over her back. “Tell me what he did?” 

“He didn’t do anything.” She shook her head, pulling back as she wiped at her cheeks. “I just...Alfie dabbles a bit in drugs and I tried some with him last week, but I didn’t like it. I told him I didn’t want to do it again and he called me a whore and a tease.” 

Harry’s jaw tensed as he watched his best friend hiccup, swiping under her eyes again. 

“You are not a whore.” Harry reached up, gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger, demanding her attention. “Don’t ever let anyone make you feel like you need to be ashamed of yourself.” 

“Thank you.” She sniffled. “Sleep with me tonight?” 

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Let’s go to my room instead, okay?” 

He didn’t have the heart to tell her he couldn’t sleep in her bed right now. 

Not after Alfie had been in it. 

“Okay.” She gave him a wavering smile. “Thank you, H.” 

“Anytime.” 

Harry held her that night, his heart pounding against his chest as she cuddled into him. 

As he drifted off, he mumbled out loud, “This must be what heaven feels like.” 

He hoped she didn’t hear him. 

                                            ****************************

Harry decided that if Y/N was going out this Friday, he was too.

He couldn’t stand the thought of her going out without him by her side after last week’s incident with Alfie. There was no Tinder date for her to meet up with, just Harry and a few other friends who wanted to have a good time. They got ready in their shared bathroom together, pre-gaming with whatever they had left as they sang loudly to Harry’s pre-game playlist. When she spritzed her perfume over her neck, Harry’s mouth started to water. 

The warm vanilla and citrus hybrid was damn near a love potion to him. 

“Alright,” She nodded, giving herself a once over in the mirror. “I’m ready.” 

“You look perfect.” He smiled, trailing his eyes up from her vegan, leather combat boots to her black skinny jeans, finally settling on the lacy bodysuit that she had recently purchased. “S’a bit like lingerie, innit it?” 

“Yeah.” She shrugged her shoulders, pursuing her lips as Harry looked at her eyes. “But it’s nice and light and extremely sexy.” 

“One of those nights?” Harry’s brows quirked up and he forced a little smirk to settle on his lips as she nodded. “Good, you deserve a bit of fun.” 

And he actually meant it, this time. 

She did deserve to have a little fun after Alfie

He could suck it up for one night if the girl he loved would be happy at the end of it. 

“I do.” She giggled, reaching down to grab the bottle of tequila set on the bathroom countertop, wiggling it around. “One more shot for good luck?”

“Pour it up.” 

                                         *****************************

Harry bucked his hips up as the girl above him rolled her hips over his denim clad cock. 

This time, he brought someone home. 

Granted, Y/N brought someone home as well, he now had a distraction to keep his mind busy and his cock wet while his flatmate got off. The girl he’d met at the club was so sweet, her hazel eyes enticing him the moment his gaze met hers. Her lips were so soft and they tasted like strawberries. He wondered what Y/N tasted like? They were normally covered in gloss when she went out, shiny and peachy. Did her lips taste like peach? Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as the girl dug her nails into his stomach. 

“Can I take your pants off?” She asked, timid and soft. Nothing like Y/N demanding the naughtiest of things on the other side of the wall. “I’m ready to...I want to ride you.” 

“Okay, yeah.” Harry opened his eyes, sitting up as he wrapped his arms around her. He pressed a few soft kisses over her jaw before catching her mouth in his. “Just a second, love.”

“You’re sweet.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, swinging her leg over his thighs as he reached for his buttons. 

“Fuck, yes!” 

Harry rolled his eyes, fumbling with the zipper on his trousers as the girl next to him slapped her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. 

“She’s loud.” She giggled, reaching down to start working on her heels. 

“I know.” Harry sighed. “I’m really sorry about that. I...I didn’t know she would be bringing someone-” 

“Right there, y/n! Yes baby yes!” 

“Jesus.” He let out a huff, reaching his hand up to tap the wall with his fist. “Oi, other people are trying to have fun here.” 

“Oh my god.” The girl tossed her head back, barking out a laugh. “You don’t have to do that, it’s fine.” 

“Sorry, H.” Y/N called back. “We’ll keep it down.” 

“I just don’t want to ruin the mood for us.” He shuffled out of his jeans and boxers, tossing them to the side before he looked back at her. 

“I’m okay.” She climbed on top of him again, her shoes now tossed aside and her dress hiked up to her hips. “I really, really don’t care about anything else but fucking you right now.” 

“Oh.” Harry’s cheeks were surely tinged pink as she gripped his cock in her hand, stroking up with gentle movements. “Fuck, that’s nice.” 

“Good.” She leaned forward, pressing her free hand to his shoulder. He fell back onto the mattress, dropping his hands to her thighs. “I promise I’m gonna make you cum so hard, you won’t even know there’s anyone else in the world besides me.” 

Harry dropped his head back, digging his nails into her thighs as she lined herself up with his cock. It had been so long since he’d fucked anyone, his emotions for Y/N a huge cock-block that he couldn’t seem to shake. Other girls just didn’t do it for him anymore.  But tonight, the alcohol in his veins and the vision of Y/N nearly fingering some girl in the back of the club reminded him that he was free to fuck whoever he wanted, despite his love for Y/N.

“Y/N!” 

Harry let out a heavy sigh through his nose, the sound of Y/N’s one night stand screaming making the fire in his belly dim just a little. He didn’t even care that his own girl was sinking onto his cock, soaking wet and tight like a vice. He barely even remembered that she was on top of him until she moaned his name out. 

He opened his eyes, watching her face contort as she settled onto his thighs. 

“You’re huge.” She whispered, tilting her head back. “I swear I’ve never had...never had someone so big, fuck.” 

“Yeah?” He licked over his bottom lip, sliding a palm up to her belly. “Feel me there?” 

“Mhm.” She whimpered, gripping onto his wrist. “M’so full.”

“Y/N, please let me cum.” 

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, reaching his hands up to rub over his face. 

“Are they bothering you?” The girl asked softly, lifting off of his cock. “Because it seems like they are.” 

“A little, yeah.” Harry nodded, wincing as his cock slapped against his stomach. “I’m really sorry, it’s not that you aren’t amazing-” 

“I get it, it’s okay.” She fell next to him as his cock started to soften. “I would be kind of wigged out if my roommate was fucking while I was too.” 

“She does this every Friday night.” Harry said. “And...not to continue ruining whatever we had going between us, but I’m kind of in love with her.” 

“Oh.” The girl whispered. “That would really turn me off.” 

“Yeah.” He nodded. “And I was trying to have fun for once, you know? Because she seems to go about life oblivious to my feelings and I’m stuck pining for her while she’s fucking whoever she wants to.” 

“Do you think she knows that you like her?” His date asked. 

“I don’t know, probably not.” He mumbled, turning his head to look at her. “You don’t have to listen to me moan on about it, I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay.” She turned on her side, pressing her palm to his chest. “I have a feeling you haven’t talked to anyone about this and it’s not very healthy to keep things bottled up.”

“You’re right about that.” Harry smiled. “You know, I have a friend who would absolutely adore you.” 

“Is it Y/N?” She giggled. “Because I don’t swing that way.” 

“Oi, you think I’d let you shag the girl I just told you I’m in love with?” He laughed, his brows crinkling together as he reached over to pinch her hip. “It’s not her.” 

“Good.” She laughed with Harry, sliding closer to him. “Would it be weird if I stay?” 

“No,” He shook his head. “It’s the least I can do after wasting your time.” 

“And...what about a cuddle?” She asked. “Because I do enjoy a good cuddle session.” 

“I can deal with that, I think.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. “Thank you.” 

                                           *****************************

The next morning, Harry was livid. 

He sent his date, Halle was her name, off with a sweet kiss and a coffee to-go. Maybe in another life, she would have been perfect for him. A soft, sweet girl with kind eyes and a willingness to listen to him. Unfortunately for him, he was too far up his obnoxious flatmate’s ass to see anyone else. And even if it made things awkward between them, he had to tell her how he felt. There was no way he could keep going on like this if there was a way to prevent it. 

“Good morning,” She chirped, her hand linked with the girl she brought home last night. “Are we having breakfast?” 

“You can do whatever the fuck you want.” Harry snapped, taking his coffee mug and his breakfast plate from the counter. “I don’t care.” 

Y/N’s jaw dropped and the girl’s eyes grew wide. 

Harry didn’t say another word, walking past the two girls.

He hated being a dick, but lashing out made him feel the tiniest bit better about what happened last night. He pushed his bedroom door open with his hip, settling back into bed as he flicked through his options on Netflix. He wasn’t even thinking of Y/N, his mind struggling to remember whether or not he’d seen the last episode of the Great British Bake-Off. When he realized that he hadn’t, clicking on the title to start the episode, his bedroom door flew open and his roommate stormed in. 

“Fuck you!” She snapped, reaching for his remote, standing in front of his bed with a scowl on her perfect lips. “I don’t know who pissed in your cheerios this morning, but you don’t get to talk to me like that! Especially not in front of guests.” 

“Okay.” Harry shrugged. “Can I have my remote-” 

“No, you can’t!” She shouted, tossing her hands up as she let out a noise crossed between a groan and a growl. “What’s your deal?” 

“I haven’t exactly finished my coffee, love.” Harry was trying not to relish in the sight of his roommate frustrated and adorable. The feeling she was experiencing now was a fraction of what he felt every time he heard her through the wall. “Maybe come back later?” 

“Are you upset because I fucked someone last night and you didn’t?” Her brows shot up. “I know you didn’t cum last night and neither did the girl you brought home. Are you mad because you’re shit in bed?” 

“Maybe we were quiet. You know, decent and considerate of other people,” The smile he gave her was sarcastic. “Or maybe- and this is a good one- maybe, I had a girl sitting on my cock, ready to fuck me so bloody good I would cry, but I couldn’t let her because all I could think about was how much I love you. ” 

“What?” She asked, her mouth falling ajar. 

“Maybe when I was kissing her at the club, I was thinking about kissing you.” He set his coffee mug down on his nightstand, continuing on. “And maybe when I had my fingers in her cunt, I was thinking about you. And maybe, just maybe, every time you fuck someone so loud that it keeps me up at night, I wish it was me instead.” 

She didn’t say anything, watching as Harry moved forward. He snagged the remote from her hand, proud of his little confession. He turned the show back on, ignoring his roommate as she stood there with her eyes wide. He smirked, crossing his legs before he settled his hand on his stomach. 

“You process that and I’m just gonna watch Noel and Paul bicker.” Harry said. 

“You’re an asshole.” She whispered. “You...you can’t just be upset with me because I didn’t know that you liked me.” 

“I’m not upset with you,” He said. “I’m a little upset that I was trying to have a good time for once and you ruined it with you and your girl’s pornstar moaning, but I’m not upset with you. That would be extremely unfair of me.” 

“Why have you never said anything?” She cleared her throat, fidgeting with the hem of her oversized shirt. “We’ve been roommates for years, Harry.” 

“Because I love you as a friend, too.” He started. “I didn’t want to risk it.” 

“And now?” She squeaked out. “You’re willing to risk it now?” 

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’m tired of wishing that it was me on the other side of this wall, Y/N. So...take some time to think about what I said and let me know if you’d be willing to give it a try. No hard feelings if you don’t want the same thing, I completely understand and I’ll respect your choice either way. We’ll just have to work out some arrangement where you let me know when you have someone-” 

“I want to try.” She said quickly, kneeling on the edge of the bed. “Because I really like you, Harry. Like, the only reason I’ve brought so many people back home with me is because I couldn’t have you. I knew that there was no way in hell you would like a girl like me. I’m obnoxious and boisterous and just...I didn’t think I was your type.” 

“You’re kidding?” His brows shot up. “You thought...oh my god, we’re both bloody idiots.” 

“You’re telling me.” She laughed, falling on her ass in front of him. “This whole time I’ve been fucking people that loudly to make you jealous and the entire time you’ve been listening, imaging it was you?” 

“I guess so.” He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Well, I guess that leaves us with two options.” 

“And what might those be?” She asked, a soft smile settling on her lips. 

“I take you out for brunch, maybe a nice walk in the park, and then I bring you home and fuck you so hard you won’t even remember the orgasms you had last night.” He lifted one finger up, smiling as he watched her inhale sharply. “Or option two, I fuck you now and we go to brunch later?” 

“Wouldn’t it just be lunch by then?” She tilted her head to the side, playfully narrowing her eyes at him. “I mean...that defeats the purpose, yeah?” 

“Really, that’s-” Harry let out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re missing the point.” 

“I’m not.” She leaned forward, sliding her hands over his thighs. “I see it clear as day.” 

“And what does your heart tell you to do?” He licked over his bottom lip as she moved closer, her nose nearly bumping against his. 

“To take you up on option two.” She whispered. “Because it’s really not fair that I came five times last night and you didn’t come, not even once.” 

“Fuck.” Harry sputtered out as she brushed her lips over his. “Kiss me?” 

She pressed her lips into his, moving his body back onto his pillows. She moved over him, straddling his thighs as she deepened the kiss. When her tongue slipped over his bottom lip, his mouth fell open in response. His hands fell to her hips, digging into the soft flesh as his mind tried to catch up. The girl of his dreams was sitting on his lap, in his bed, and she wanted him. She wanted him just as bad as he wanted her. He couldn’t believe that this was happening, sure that he was just a fever dream or a nightmare that he would wake up from any second. But he was brought back to reality when her tongue slipped over his. 

And at that moment, Harry knew he was right. 

She did taste like peach. 

[itstittycitybaby]

From the Ashes We are Born (Part 3)

A/N: Finally caught up to my ao3 account! All the chapters on there have now been posted here. New chapters published on ao3 should follow here after a day or two, just depends on what I am doing. Unrelated, but am I the only one who finds this gif hot? Hgghhh something about V’s leather gloves just hit different. As always enjoy!

Summary: A few months have passed. You and V are holed up in the Shadow Gallery together. V realizes he is infatuated with you and you have ensnared him in your cunning grasp. (Basically this chapter is in V’s perspective and reflects on the times you’ve had.)

He disliked how afraid you were. V didn’t see you as weak or fragile, but he hated how nervous you were. Of him. No, he couldn’t blame you of course. After all, you were now stuck in the Shadow Gallery, a place you were very unfamiliar with (not to mention being stuck with a wanted criminal). Anytime V would try to make conversation with you, it would be struck down. He could sense the uneasiness in your voice and the fear in your eyes. Any loud bump or noise made you tense up and rapidly search for the disrupted silence. It reminded him of all those years ago of Larkhill. Every time V looked at you, he could see the old soul of himself. Angry, hurt, and scared. The V with terrible trauma from the aftermath of Larkhill (sure it was still hard for him to function some days, but vengeance was the therapy he had found).

V wasn’t particularly excited about a new person in his home. He had been alone for years in the cold and loneliness of his house. It took him a decade to spruce the place up, decorated with stolen reclaimed contraband and suits of armour throughout the Shadow Gallery. Not to mention all the books stacked upon one another. V had a sense of pride as he paraded about his home. What he had created despite being in that terrible place. There was pride and satisfaction of being reborn from nothing but ashes, V felt something else. Isolated. Depressed. Rage. The unbearable and deafening silence. V craved a human connection (not that he would ever admit it). V wanted someone to talk to instead of making remarks with his victim before stabbing them multiple times. The void in his heart was always there, whispering and crying out for someone, somebody to listen to him so he wouldn’t go mad. Then you came. Something new, someone different. How could it be you were easily scared, but you were one of the most courageous people V had ever met? You were passionate about doing the right thing and stood up for what you believed in. Whenever V would actually get you to talk to you for more than five minutes it was delightful. You were snarky and witty. Whenever the telly or the radio hosts spat out some nonsense about V, your tongue was very quick to banter. You were sharp and god how V loved to see your eyes light up with a fire as you vented. From art, movies, books, to the injustice of Chancellor Sutler and the awful people he had hired. “They’re cowards,” you snarked at the news.

 “She’s scared,” you said as the news host prattled on about the new precautions against the masked terrorist. “Oh?” The both of you were sprawled out on the leather couch with a few feet between the two of you. Your brows were furrowed as you watched the blonde woman smile and laugh with the news guy. “She’s nervous; she’s laughing too much and smiling like a dumbass.” V just hummed as the news casters changed the subject. 

His sword thwacked against the dummy. It was late at night and you were already asleep. Or, so he thought. “V?” He turned around to see a very adoring sight. There was the fluffy blanket you had liked so much wrapped around your shoulders. Your hair was ruffled and your pajamas wrinkled. The sleepy look on your face made V smile. “Yes?” “It’s 3am. What the hell are you doing?” V tried not to laugh at the grumpy look on your face. “Fencing, mademoiselle.” You scoffed, “At 3am?” “It seems so. I apologize if I had awoken you.” The blanket moved as you shrugged. “It’s fine man, hard to sleep anyway.” V’s head tilted slightly. Your eyes were droopy as you stood there with the soft blanket pooling at your feet. “Something on your mind?” V felt like he overstepped a boundary once he said that. You paled a bit and twiddled with the blanket in your fingers. They scrunched it up tightly and let it go, repeating its movements. “Kinda yea,” you mumbled, shifting on your feet.  You looked nervous and gulped. “Today is.,,an anniversary of sorts. A very hard one.” V didn’t press, he tried to look as welcoming as much as he could. Comfort was not in V’s fortie, but he would try to in every way he could. “Just a lot of memories,” you muttered after a while. “It’s hard to talk about.” It felt awkward between the two of you. You could joke around with each other and talk about nothing, but this was something different. “Would you like a cup of tea,” V asked, breaking the silence. “If you don’t mind. I’d feel bad about you making some this late.” “Of course, to the kitchen shall we?” 

 Progress. Slow and steady progress. You were slowly opening up to V and to his surprise he was also. He was out late tonight and warned you he’d be gone for quite some time. You didn’t seem to mind, though there was a quiet sadness as you said goodbye. Maybe you did mind, but for what reason V couldn’t figure out. What was weirder is how much he enjoyed your company. He had been alone for so long. Memories of his family, his childhood were gone. They rose into the air like smoke’s wispy tendrils and disappeared. For so long V had found solace into the silence of his life. But ever since he had met you desparity’s hounds had caught onto the trails of his cloak and bit down like a harsh winter. V was desperate to find someone who wouldn’t make his world so lonely and cold. He was elated by the progress that the two of you made. You had enthralled him with your cunning grasp, like snakes slinging themselves around their prey. V was infatuated with you, enamoured with you. His heart fluttered and felt so much warmth like he was a bloody teenager. Something he hadn’t felt in years. V was convinced love would not be something he experienced, let alone felt after everything he has been through. But here you were, frollicking around like it was nothing. Did you feel the same? Were you infatuated with him as he was with you? What if you saw how ugly V was? How his skin was pink, raw, and scarred so horrendously. You would shriek in terror at the sight of his skin and be disgusted. V was sure of it. You saw his hands already, and sure you didn’t scream, but you didn’t see his face. God forbid you ever did. V snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the music once he got to the door of the gallery. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, then we wouldn’t have to wait so long.” The sound of your voice captured him. His heart twinged as your lovely voice drifted through the walls of the Shadow Gallery. It was fluttery like a songbird and so heavenly .He softly closed the door behind him and snuck to where your voice led him. V would regret interrupting this wonderful moment. “And wouldn’t it be nice to live together in a kind of world where we belong.” There, V saw a sight he never expected to see. A white bandana was folded and tied behind your head. A baggy t-shirt reached your mid thigh. V hoped you had something underneath it he shuddered and his face flushed at the thought. Paint was smeared across the shirt and your arms and legs. A canvas lay on the floor with a towel underneath it. Various paints and brushes lay discarded on the living room floor. It was a rare and very cute sight. “Oh my god,” you shrieked as you turned around to find your masked friend witnessing his living room a bit in disarray. V didn’t fail to notice the way your cheeks became a nice shade of rose red. “H-how long have you been standing there?” “Not for very long,” he replied. The voice of the singer carried on as the both of you stared at each other. What an amusing sight this is, V thought. His ward covered in paint and dancing around the gallery. V couldn’t help but compare  himself in his infamous “battle” attire, the hat and everything. “May I see what you are painting,” he asked after the two of you eyed one another. “Uh sure,” You shook yourself out of your daze and bent down to grab the canvas carefully. He couldn’t help but notice how disheartened you sounded from the question. Don’t look down, don’t look down, V had to tell himself as you squatted down. However tempting it was, he wouldn’t dare to rake his eyes over your delightful- “The paint is still drying a bit but uh it was gonna be a surprise...here it is.” You timidly raised the canvas and showed it to V.

 His heart stopped as he observed it. It was a painting of him. His mask was tilted downwards and his hair swept forward; its strands like an inky curtain. The most noticeable thing, however, was the red rose grasped in his left hand. The nose of V’s mask was “smelling it.” You had captured him in the most beautiful light, something he would never say about himself.“I-it’s alright if it’s bad, I can redo it or just throw i-it away-” “It’s perfect,” V whispered. He was floored. “O-oh thanks!” You were relieved that he had finally said something. “Can I ask you something, mademoiselle?” “Yea of course.” “Why did you paint me?” Your eyes widened at the question. The tips of your ears went pink and you dropped V’s gaze. “I-I just..as a thank you. For everything really. I k-know this situation isn’t exactly i-ideal for you either and well I….I just wanted to try and do something for you. You’ve done s-so much for me and I know it’s not that big of a deal but...it’s the least I can do.” V was moved;here you were putting your time and effort to create something for him. Did you share mutual feelings towards him? You were so nervous, after all. “You know,” V said after some time, “You sell yourself short. Your art is incredible.” Your lips tugged into a soft smile, “Thank you, V.” You looked around the mess of his living room floor. “Sorry you came home to such a mess, I’ll clean it up.” “Nonsense, mademoiselle, I’ve seen worse in my time.” Your brows furrowed at that but you decided not to push it. Maybe another time. “After the sitting room is cleaned, I advise you to go to sleep.” “But I wanna hear about your kick ass fights,” you pouted as you set the painting on the coffee table. V tutted, “Not tonight my dear, it is late. In the morning you shall hear of them.” “What are you, my dad,” you teased as you cleaned up your mess. 

Oh, how wicked you were. You strutted to the kitchen tauntingly, pouring out your cup and cleaning your brushes. V chuckled darkly, “If that’s how you would like to play it, then I won’t stop you.” You felt heat rush to your core at those words. “W-what HEY!” V’s arm snaked around your waist and he gently hung you over his shoulder. Your head felt dizzy as the ground moved beneath him. Your fists smacked softly onto his chest and your feet dangled in the air. “Put me down V!” His arm was snug around your waist as he made his way to his room. “Not until you have a good night’s rest my dear.” Huffing you hung there helplessly. “Fine fine I’ll go to sleep! I promise!” Your head spun and you felt hazy as you hung there upside down. Seemingly satisfied, V plopped you on the ground. Your hand clutched his arm tightly as you stood there regaining your balance. Your arms trailed down to the mask’s lips. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by V. Your cheeks tinged once you realized you had been caught staring.  “Night V.” His arm was free from your grasp as you turned to the bedroom door. “Goodnight, mademoiselle,” V replied. You gave him one last smile before softly shutting the door. A night without sleep seems to be ahead.

[another-lottie-simp]

Hello! I'm going to post a series of crossover headcanons regarding LITG. That means picking one islander and placing it in another season. I'm accepting requests if anyone is interested to see their favourite islander in another season. The first one will be Talia. This post is dedicated to the awesome @bubblybabynailpolish and her awesome headcanons. Next one will Henrik in S1 babes <3

PD: I got carried a little but please keep in mind that English is not my native language, so if you see something that is phrased weirdly, just let me know.

Talia in S2: 

If Talia was part of S2, I do think she would arrive on the 5th day along with Lurik. I can picture her being civil to Lucas because she’s not very much into his poshness and his attitude at all but she feels that she has no reason to be really mean to him, they just don’t have much in common but they would respect each other. 

On the other hand, I see her having a platonic friendship with Henrik and even coupling up with him as friends if she doesn’t fancies anyone back in the Villa. If he’s the returning Lurik or he manages to make it to the final recoupling after CA after being rejected by MC and if she’s not in her route. He's just one of her closest friends in the Villa, there’s nothing sexual or romantic between them.

After MC and Priya, I feel that Talia is tied with Hope as one of the most attractive females in the Villa, which leads to certain “unwanted male attention” in her words, especially from Rocco which is a source of arguments and drama between her, Marisol and Lottie. Talia may be nice, chill and hating drama just like in S1, but she’s not going to be a doormat and will take no shit about Lottie’s rants about Girl Code or Marisol’s psychoanalysis. Much less she’s going to tolerate Rocco trying to graft on her.

She agrees with the idea of the girl code, but thinks that Lottie executed her ideas poorly. Talia sees the good intentions in Lottie's idea of Girl Code but thinks that they could work better if she were less abrasive in her interactions with the other girls.

Regarding the rest of the boys and assuming she had seen certain events on telly like the kiss between Lottie and Gary or Rocco trying to graft with the rest of the girls behind Lottie/MC’s back, she would be cautious of both Rocco and Gary. I can see her vibing a lot with Bobby and even coupling up as friends if he’s not coupled with MC because of the jokes and the banter. Before ON, their friendship would be much like hers with Tim in S1. I don’t see her interacting much with Rahim because they have little in common and she's going to be straight up annoyed with him during the girls day drama later.

During the Most Dateable challenge, she’d be super happy to help Henrik and give him advice on how to apply lipstick correctly or help him to pick the color of the lipstick he’s going to wear. I can also see her helping Bobby to put on Priya's dress.

After Henrik (and Bobby before ON), I feel like she would love to hang out with Noah in the Villa, much to Hope’s chagrin because she will feel threatened by her beauty and her warm, approachable personality and they will clash for that. Talia and Noah would be talking a lot about their tastes in books and music while he braids her hair first but later about their experiences in the Villa and more serious chats. To Talia, her hair is something she cares a lot, but she would trust it only to Noah (and later to MC).

She certainly would not be a fan of his behaviour towards Hope and Priya/MC during the aftermath of ON but she wouldn’t judge him that harshly. Instead, she would offer him her honest opinion if he asks her. I don’t see her pursuing a romantic relationship with Noah for the same reasons she didn’t work with Jake in S1 as a couple but I can see her having an innocent, healthy male-female friendship with him, like hers with Jake in S1.

As for the girls, she has a crush on MC and they flirt a lot prior to CA if MC acknowledges that she’s bi in the beginning of the game. If MC is romantically interested in her, they would be able to couple up after CA, game wise. 

If MC is straight or not really interested in Talia romantically, I can’t picture Talia going for Elisa because I feel like she is too high maintenance and extra for her and I don’t think she would have vibed much with Marisol either because she’s very calculating and unnecessarily childish for her liking after noticing that she's with Graham to try to make MC jealous. Instead, I can see Lottie secretly having a crush on Talia despite being openly mean to her when they first met when she was coupled up with Rocco.

Regarding the other girls, she would vibe the most with MC, Priya and Lottie after Roccogate drama ends, but like I said before not much with Hope and Marisol. This is something that really pains me to say, but I think she would be pretty much indifferent to Chelsea because they don't have much in common. Yeah, she might find Chelsea genuinely funny sometimes after the Ministry of Sound Party drama ends but they wouldn't be that close like she is with MC, Priya or Lottie.

She'd made sure that Bobby actually faced consequences after ON, because she never approved it when Bobby and Priya approached her to see if she was up to try to turn Noah’s head. She refuses quite offended, because her friendship with Noah is more important to her than some petty drama. Even if Priya is upset after Talia refuses to take part in ON, she understands why she refused. This will be the first source of drama between Bobby and Talia.

Like I said before, they'd be closer because I headcanon that Talia has literally the same ethnicity of Bobby (white British/Jamaican) and they would share a lot of things in common about Jamaican culture, besides she would also enjoy Bobby’s dumb jokes.

But that doesn't mean she would be pleased all the time with his behaviour. Bobby's attitude after ON is something she's not going to tolerate and she won’t hesitate to call out him especially if she's aware that he played a big part in ON, after he starts to play fool in the Ministry of Sound Party and later playing peacemaker with Marisol while Priya/MC is enduring the shitstorm alone during the aftermath of ON.

She's 👏🏾 not 👏🏾 here 👏🏾 for 👏🏾 the 👏🏾 peacemaking 👏🏾 bullshit 👏🏾. After Priya leaves the Villa, she pretty much ignores Bobby unless is really necessary to talk to him. Bobby’s part in Priya's dumping was the final straw between Bobby and Talia.

I think she would be closer to Priya because she'd appreciate Talia's carefree and non-judgemental personality. As for Lottie, they'd be closer after the Roccogate drama ends but they would start their friendship after she stands up for Lottie by calling out Gary for kissing her after Hannah left the Villa the same night when Chelsea entered the Villa throwing shade to Lottie. 

From Hope, she would be quite disgusted with her behaviour after trying to put all the blame against MC/Priya after ON. She might understand why Hope is legitimately upset but she won’t allow her to insult only Priya/MC for making a pass/kissing Noah while ignoring Bobby’s part during ON. 

At CA, the only guy that she remotely likes is Kassam after finding Elijah, Felix and Arjun annoying and not vibing much with Carl and Graham. She might find him interesting, but not enough to take him back to the Villa. If MC is in her route, she might acknowledge her crush on Talia during the CA days which is a source of more drama with Marisol, because she's going to be jealous of Talia.

During the girls day, she would try to reason with Shannon that Jo is not the only responsible for the kiss with Ibrahim, not because she likes Jo (in fact, she’s not a big fan of her attitude), it is mostly because she wants to have quality time with MC (or Lottie) without drama enjoying the beach and the drinks. Since her efforts trying to reason with Shannon are futile, she might sneak with MC or Lottie to the beach. She won’t be here for petty drama that doesn’t affect her directly.

When the baby challenge happened, Talia is an utter mess because she’s not used to taking care of babies and she’s quite creeped by the fake baby, but she would attempt to help MC to take care of it.

If Lottie gets dumped before the finale, our Aussie witch lady might regret not making a move on Talia if MC is not in her route. She mostly regrets it because due to her stubbornness trying to pursue something with Gary that she realizes now is not going to last much. She kinda regrets ignoring her feelings for her all this time, also for her fear of being rejected. When MC is not in her route their story is a literal enemies to friends to lovers but if MC is coupled with Talia, Lottie will back off and keep her feelings to herself. If Bobby is dumped before the finale, he might apologize properly to both MC and Talia for what he did in ON.

She makes it to finals but depending on who is coupled up with her, she might win with MC or end in third place if she coupled up with anyone else, she loses to MC and her LI if she didn't cheated with Elisa/RLurik and Nope who ends in second place.

Finally, overall I feel like she would vibe a lot with lighthearted guys who are not afraid to do silly things much like in S1 (in a friendly way) and guys that are being comfortable with their masculinity, but that doesn’t mean that she won’t call out things that are utter bullshit to her like Bobby’s involvement in ON. Talia is usually quite easy to talk, fair and she was hands down the kindest female character in S1, that was the main reason why I can picture her being closer to characters like Lottie, Priya or Noah, because she wouldn’t judge them of the things they do or if they want to talk to her something private, however, if they ask her opinion she will very blunt and she will stand for what she thinks is the correct thing to do. 

As a LI, she would be super supportive of MC if she doesn’t want to be involved in petty drama or if the Villa is forcing her to be a people pleaser and she doesn't want to be. Also, if Talia sees that someone is giving MC shit for any reason, she will stand up for her. In this regard, she wouldn’t be far different than Lucas but overall she would be a very chill LI like Henrik because she would trust a lot in MC unless she cheats on her before the final recoupling.

That's it for know. Like I said I'm gonna post a series of crossover headcanons and requests are open!

[thisbluespirit]

Ten Favourite Characters

Memed from @mariocki​  And despite the numbering, not really in strict order, although I tried and no. 1 is definitely no. 1. 

10. Kathryn Janeway

"There are three things to remember about being a starship captain. Keep your shirt tucked in, go down with the ship... and never abandon a member of your crew."

Okay, basically, me and Star Trek is: I like it if it has Captain Janeway in it.  If it does not have Captain Janeway in it, I might go so far as to mildly enjoy it from time to time, but Janeway is the essential thing.  I walked in one day and saw Kate Mulgrew on the screen and sat down immediately, eventually asking my friend, in hushed tones of awe, “Who is that?”  (I’m not even joking.)  (I don’t hate the rest of ST or anything, but, you know.  It’s not Doctor Who and it doesn’t have Captain Janeway in it, what can I say?  I like the one with the whales, too?)

9. Jenkins

“Magic is not an exact science. If it were, it would be science.”

With Jenkins (John Larroquette), The Librarians takes a mythical character I never gave a thought to, or imagined I would want to, and gave me All the Feels about him.  By the end of S1, I was drawing hearts around Jenkins every time he appeared and that happens all too rarely at the moment, so I think he has to go on this list.  (I’m a Doctor Who fan, how could I not love a grumpy immortal caretaker with a magic door and a heart of gold?) *draws hearts around him regardless of his disapproval and annoyance at said hearts*

8. G’kar

“No dictator, no invader can hold an imprisoned population by force of arms forever. There is no greater power in the universe than the need for freedom. Against that power tyrants and dictators cannot stand. The Centauri learned that lesson once. We will teach it to them again. Though it take a thousand years, we will be free.”

G’kar’s arc is just beautiful (from semi-villainous schemer to unwilling religious icon), as is every part of his epic relationship with Londo, and he is my favourite.  There was a period in S1 where there were about 7 episodes without him and I nearly died.  And, I mean, I really like Babylon 5 and everybody else in it, but that was just cruel and unusual.  Thank goodness it never happened again.  Andreas Katsulas was just brilliant.

7. Seventh Doctor

"That's what guns are for. Pull the trigger, end a life. Simple, isn't it?  Why don't you do it, then?  Look me in the eye, pull the trigger, end my life.  Why not?"

What do you do with a thing like Doctor Who in a meme like this?  I could do my top ten fave characters just in Doctors, let alone companions, before we even get started on minor characters, so let’s have my favourite Doctor do the honours for everyone here.  He hates unrequited love, loathes bus stations (terrible places, full of lost souls and lost luggage), and knows we all have a universe of our own terrors to face, and he’ll be back in time for tea.

With Ace, of course, who is also the best.  As are so many of the rest.

6. Servalan

"There’s no one as free as a dead man.”

It’s so hard to choose Blake’s 7 characters!  They’re all so fascinating, that’s why it still gets watched and loved.  If I’m honest it’s Vila or Servalan, and today I went for Servalan, which probably will save anyone from getting stabbed in the back.  I love me an evil lady and Jacqueline Pearce’s Servalan is probably my favourite villain in anything, especially in terms of characters who remain irredeemable, but are also plausible and interesting.  She’s certainly the most fabulously dressed, anyway.

5. Lynda Day

”I don’t do conversation.  Everything I say comes out like an order.  I say hello and people salute!”

Like every other girl of my very specific age demographic in the UK (Press Gang was watched by something ridiculous like 80% of its target teenage audience, which I don’t think has ever happened before or since), I wanted to grow up to be Lynda Day, dictator editor of the Junior Gazette.  It’s probably as well that none of us did, but she was the very best, and I remain grateful to have had her around, and Julia Sawalha was always fantastic right from trespassers will be exterminated to there are crocodiles. 

4. Silver

Sapphire: “You’re supposed to lose sometimes.”

Silver: “Oh! I wondered why I wasn’t having any fun.”

So, Sapphire and Steel are pretty amazing, right, but let’s be honest, I was always watching this for the red-headed guy in Assignments 3 & 6, and he did not disappoint.  I mean, Sapphire & Steel is the weirdest, creepiest low-budget thing with our srs bsns inhuman heroes and then suddenly David Collings turns up and makes light-bulbs glow and turn into glitter.  He is the sparkliest, no one can deny it and he can slide right into the perfect OTP and turn it into the even shinier OT3.  Not that that stops him flirting with everyone else as well, of course.

3. Regina Mills

“There's no redemption for me. There's only suffering. Because now I have a curse. The curse of knowing the difference between good and evil. And I'm caught between them. If I revert, I lose everyone I love. Henry, my friends, everyone. And if I go forward trying to be good, I have to live with my past darkness and all its well-deserved consequences... But for me, it's a simple choice really. I'd rather suffer than see that pain on the people I care about. This is my fate.“                            

Regina gets to go from being Once Upon A Time’s original OTT fairytale villain to hero (and plays out every possible shade in between, plus various cursed and alternate versions of herself, not to mention her evil doppelganger), and Lana Parrilla’s just amazing at All The Things.  I went from not even liking her to somehow letting her rip my heart right out of my chest when I wasn’t looking.  (Bonus shout out to her mother Cora Mills/Queen of Hearts (Barbara Hershey) too.)

2. Frank Marker

"Have you heard about old heads on young shoulders?  Well, you employ me, you get an old head.  You get old shoulders, too, but then no-one's perfect."

I’m with @mariocki​ here: Alfred Burke’s run down, small-time enquiry agent in Public Eye (TV 1965-75) is one of the most utterly 3D, real and compelling TV characters I’ve ever come across.  (With a bonus mention for the very lovely Helen Mortimer (Pauline Delany), because I might even love her a tiny bit more than Frank some days. <3)

1. Ruth Evershed

“I like to think no institution in the country is safe from me.”

I had to think about this long and hard a while ago, and Nicola Walker’s Ruth from Spooks | MI5 is still probably my favourite character in anything.  It’s tough.  But RUTH.  I love her so much.  There’s a S2 DVD commentary with Howard Brenton and Nicola Walker on her first episode and basically Nicola just sits there going, “I love Ruth.”  And I’m: “ME TOO.” From her first appearance, dropping the files, buggering the Home Office, and breaking the desk lamp to more serious, angsty, later stuff, she’s just so damn good at her job (and in Spooks that’s a tragedy waiting to happen).

It’s really hard to list only 10 though.  I’m an all-eras Doctor Who fan.  I’d need three posts at least just to start on that, I keep falling in love with characters from ancient telly and every now and then I even watch new things...

[magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics]

Abusive - Request

Requested by @thestrawberryblondehobbitbatch​:  Hi. I was wondering if you'd do a Sherlock x reader are married. They are out on a date when the readers abusive ex boyfriend turns up while Sherlocks popped to the gents.

Summary: In an attempt to escape from reporters, Sherlock and (Y/N) end uo at a very dark restaurant. He excuses himself and leaves her alone for a few minutes without knowing that her abusive ex-boyfriend was a waiter there.

Pairing: Sherlock x reader.

Warnings: Abusive ex-boyfriend, is there really anything else to say?

Word count: 1,789

A/N: Don’t know if the ex is too much of an insane man... I have been reading “It” and, however’s read it knows why, that is the reason I wrote him like this. Also, as someone who’s seen abuse from up close, I beg of you guys, if you’re in an abusive relationship or know someone who is DO NOT stay quiet, you’ve got to talk and get help. Please. This is just fiction, there won’t be a Sherlock Holmes to rescue us, or even so an easy way to escape on your own. So please, do get informed and get help. I repeat, this is fiction.

Enjoy!

The little restaurant was full. Every single table had been taken by either a couple or a family, and they were all chatting like they hadn’t seen each other in ages. The waiters were walking quickly to deliver the orders to the correct table, and the cooks were struggling to get every plate on time. The musicians were full of different songs – some songs were completely unknown to them – and the person in charge of the entrance was trying with all her might to calm every one down.

“It’s unbelievable how many people want to come into this place.” Sherlock observed. Of course, he had noticed everything.

“They don’t…”

“I know.” He interrupted his wife, “Half of them are reporters, the other half are fans.”

“You’re such a celebrity.” She joked. Sherlock smirked proudly, a few crinkles framing his blue eyes.

“You know what to order?” He asked.

“No… The menu is quite limited.” The mischievous smile that formed on his lips made it clear that he didn’t want to stay at that crowded place. “Where?”

“There’s another one, down the block, closer from home.” He whispered, leaning closer to give a stronger sense of privacy. “We can sneak through the back door, fool those paparazzi.”

“The things I do for you.” She sighed and then both of them followed Sherlock’s mind plan.

The back of the restaurant was dark and it smelled like fish, but it had a direct access to the opposite street, which was free of people. Sherlock and (Y/N) ran all the way to the other restaurant Sherlock had in mind. Hiding in the shadows, letting out breathy giggles and, most importantly, enjoying each other’s company.

Said restaurant was empty, and the dim lights worked perfectly as a cover up. No one could see the other’s faces unless they were at the same table or a waiter used to such lack of light.

The food of course wasn’t as good as the one from the last restaurant. It had a rather artificial flavour instead of the homely one Sherlock adored, but even so just being able to spend a night off with her was enough.

Two whole hours went by and they were about to leave. Sherlock popped to the gents while (Y/N) waited at the table, munching at a mint they had given them along with their change after paying the check.

She had felt like someone stared at her ever since she and Sherlock entered the restaurant. But she was so used to being followed either by reporters, Mycroft’s spies or Moriarty’s spies it could really be anyone. And she wasn’t doing anything bad, so she wasn’t worried to be caught on camera.

-

He had stared at her for those two hours. That slut. Giggling like an idiot, playing with her hair, caressing his palm… Of course she was doing it, he was a famous detective – a genius even – who led him to the next question: How come he hadn’t noticed yet what kind of whore she truly was?

He then left her alone. Alone in that dark place, vulnerable. The anger he had felt, locked inside him for ages, was now rising from the flames of his own inner Hell. His knuckles hurt, ached to feel her soft skin break over them, wanting to get splattered with her blood once more.

The mere thought of her pretty face covered in bruises excited him, making tingles appear all over his body in anticipation. The place was dark, he only needed to drag her a bit further away from her table, and so she wouldn’t know what hit her – literally.

He walked slowly towards her; like a predator haunting its prey before attacking. Observing her every move, her naïve expression, her… Her red lips. Those lips that made him lose control, in the exact tone that got his fury to unleash. She loved that colour that shade, it truly reflected her inner self: A whore.

He slid at the opposite side of the table, with his dark eyes glued to her who was distracted getting something from her bag.

“Have you seen my…?” She lifted her gaze, and the pure sight of the man who still gave her nightmares made her freeze. She was frightened to death.

Her blood started running faster, her lungs were lacking of enough air to contain her anxiety. Her heart skipped beats and then recovered them in a few seconds, which caused an inconsistent beating. Her hands, armpits and forehead started sweating, and her knees tingled, begging her to run. The ghosts of the past impacts invaded her mind, and all she could feel was the many bruises that were now long gone but used to belong on her face and arms. Her lower ribs and legs burned, remembering all those kicks and mislead punches they had received. Her lips went dry, and not even the lipstick could get them to hold them from breaking. She wanted to scream, but there was a knot on her throat avoiding a single sound to come out of her. Her flawless skin turned so pale anyone would’ve swore she was a ghost and her eyes hurt. She hadn’t blinked, she couldn’t, scared that he would use those seconds of blindness to harm her.

“You remember me.” He said as a wicked smile grew on his face. That smile, that cursed omen that warned her about the upcoming violence. It was there, right in front of her, directed to her once again.

“Please go away.” She begged in a whisper so low he could barely hear it.

He tisked his tongue and leaned closer. “I can’t leave, slut.” He whispered back, although his voice was audible, “I work here.”

(Y/N) tried to get up from the table, but he just slammed his fist once over the wooden surface and her instincts made her sit back. She hadn’t forgotten his rules.

“Who’s that man?” He asked, and (Y/N) knew who he was referring to.

“Don’t you watch the telly?” She inquired, trying to be brave like that time she escaped. He hissed back, showing all of his teeth.

“Sherlock Holmes, of course I know. What I mean is who is that man to you?” (Y/N) froze, hiding both of her hands under the table. Wanting to keep the diamond ring out of his sight.

“Her husband.” A third voice stated from behind him. Sherlock stepped closer, making the dim light shine over his face. “Who are you?”

He got up and tried to stand up in an authoritarian pose. Of course, Sherlock was taller, but even so he had the face of a maniac and that was pretty intimidating.

“Let me guess,” Sherlock smiled triumphant, “that poor bastard that… Yeah, of course.” The detective didn’t want to say it out loud, knowing exactly how she felt about it. “Think you can get her back to the cave of horrors?” A cruel chuckle left his plump lips, “C’mon, we both know you prefer to be the one beating rather than being the one beaten. So don’t make me bring you back to those summer days when mommy would hit you with a hot metal bar.”

“You think you’re smart?” He fumed. Of course mommy had hit him with a hot metal bar as a child, right on the palms of his hands – he still had the scars – but how could Sherlock know? Not even (Y/N) knew it.

“Smarter than you, yes.” Sherlock replied, “Isn’t that why daddy would punch you. For the low grades and the lack of brains… You think that reflecting that on (Y/N) or really any other woman will help you deal with your anxiety?” Sherlock shook his head, “Nothing will help unless you stop chugging on so much coffee… Although, I can’t really blame you because I wouldn’t want to have the nightmares you have.”

“Don’t make me hit you.” The lunatic warned and Sherlock couldn’t express his thoughts with anything other than a sarcastic laughter.

“You? Hit me?” He huffed, “I’ve dealt with Egyptian murderers and killed each and every single one of them with just one sword… My life’s been threatened more than once and I’ve defended myself. I fought the Golem and so many other criminals that are far better than you. Do you honestly think you scare me?” His voice had gotten lower and faster with each word. He had also leaned closer to the man threatening (Y/N) so that they were at eye level. “Don’t play with me, boy, unless you want to get burned.”

The man pushed him back. Trying to remember how the kids at school would beat him up before he learned how to defend himself – or rather mimic them and use said moves against them – and dodging Sherlock’s attempts to hit him. Although, of course, Sherlock was just distracting him.

It only took four punches. One under the ribs, another one at the back of the neck, the other at the back under his lungs, and the last one directed to the throat. Sherlock punched him in said order so fast nobody actually saw it, however, in just five seconds (Y/N)’s ex was on the floor, finding his will to breathe.

“I can’t believe you dated this pig.” Sherlock complained, “Thank God you changed your mind and ended up with me… Everything all right?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Please, Sher… Let’s just leave.”

“Just one moment.” Sherlock kneeled down to the floor to meet face to face again with the man. “You better disappear, because if I see you again I’ll make sure you never see the light of day again.”

“Sher.” (Y/N) begged, completely oblivious to what his boyfriend was whispering into her ex’s ear.

Sherlock stood back up and took his time to put on his coat and scarf before leaving. Of course, he made sure to step on the man’s stomach on his way out. Nobody touched his girl, less to say, nobody threatened her without Sherlock doing something about it. Everybody knew it, and those who ignored it… Bad things would happen. It was just his way of taking care of the one person that made him feel a lot more than friendship, the one to truly make him feel human rather than an uncomprehended genius. And God knows, Sherlock wouldn’t be able to live without her.

“The things I do for you.” Sherlock repeated her words as they walked out. (Y/N), who was still a nervous wreck, replied with a shy smile and a peck on his cheek. And so they walked through the cold streets of London, back to their tiny flat at 221B Baker Street, where no one would bother them - except for John, maybe.

*Requests are ALWAYS open.*