#any mutuals that are writers feel free to do this
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kideternity · 1 year ago
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Hi, I know this isn’t what I usually tend to post, but I thought this was important to share. Long time comic book writer Len Kaminski, most notably the author behind venom: the hunger, is currently without stable housing or income and is looking for a new place to live. The gofundme attached goes into more detail about his situation. I wanted to help spread the word since he’s one of my favourite comic book writers and it’s really fucked up to see that this has happened to him, so if you’re able to, please donate or at least spread the word
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arrtsy-ash · 4 months ago
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Not really a writer- more of an artist but I suppose I’m somewhat of a writer for writing scripts for my comics and I’ll have to become one if shattered (my story) would actually become a show or something one day- but ANYWAY-
Yes, Shattered will have a villain that isn’t the nightmare. I wouldn’t even call the Nightmare a villain. It’s as much as a villain as a zombie is I guess. But the other one I’m planning IS SUCH a villain. Honestly- worst man ever. Yes I do have a design for him but am I going to show it to y’all? Nope! Spoilers! But yeah- I’m dead.
Also….i have a playlist for him…if ya….wanna check it out…..
Don’t worry, I’ll make a cover for it eventually
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Haven’t gotten to him in PoM yet but I’d either be dead or wishing I was 💀
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prismdewdrop · 4 months ago
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dangerous territory 
Summary: jason todd may be exhausted after a long night of vigilance, but if you've stayed up late just to talk to him, he's going to make sure he knows exactly why.
or: jason and reader are both idiots and should probably just kiss, but they're idiots, so they do... whatever this is instead.
Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 
Word count: 2.9k
Warnings: mention of jason's death, mention of dead animals (in reference to the plot of john wick)
Tags: roommates in love, late-night conversations, mutual pining, jason is a little bit of an asshole (affectionate), he's not beating the little shit allegations, jason todd loves reader and is soo not normal about it, pov jason todd, everyone is 18+
A/N: long-time jason todd lover, first-time fic writer!
this work was inspired by @notnotacowpoke 's roommatesverse with jason, and they've been absolutely amazing with betaing and just going insane with me over this. you can read their work on ao3 :))
please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments or in the tags! thanks for reading <3
edit (a big thank you): omg thank you so much for the response, everyone! i genuinely can't believe my first fic on a sideblog got so much of a reaction, and I'm so, SO grateful. my inbox is open for your thoughts or requests for jason and his roommate reader! i'd love to say hi and explore this au some more!
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"Jay?" 
The sleep-soft call melts the night and the pain away. 
Halting his lonely trek to his room, Jason Todd turns towards your voice. A fresh bruise catches at the quickness of his movement, but he tucks away the wince into the back of his throat.
You're standing at your door, peering into the dark in his direction.
"Yeah, babe?" 
A low hiss makes it out of his throat as the endearment falls from his mouth. He waits to see if you caught it. You sounded exhausted, drowsy with much-needed sleep, and even in your apartment, the city was never quiet. Whether you heard it or not, though, you don't acknowledge it, waiting to hear a confirmation from him.
His heart aches for a split second, recognizing the fatigue in your voice, like the second skin he wears every day, accompanied by the tinge of fear that keeps him alive – and keeps you waiting to hear for sure if it's him.
"It's me. What's up?" he says again, louder this time.
You open the door wider, stepping more clearly into his view, just a little past the doorway. One side of your face and body is splashed in the ever-glistening lights of the city that leaks into your apartment in a haze of light gray.
The patch of light helps, and so does his helmet's night vision.
He can see you now, and like always, a breath catches in his throat–even rumpled with sleep, you look lovely and soft.
To you, he knows that he's just a larger patch of darkness against the dimness of your shared living room.
"You're back earlier than I thought you would be," you say finally.
He can see the concern flit over your face as you do your best to scan him in the darkness, checking in vain for any obvious wounds or hurts. He watches as your concern deepens when you're unable to make out anything in the dark, still reluctant to ask him to step into the light
"Slow night," he shrugs. 
He steps closer to you, not fully into the light but close enough that you can make out more of his form. He sees the relief wash over your face and your shoulders loosen a little as you clock his unaffected stride and note the lack of any visible wounds. He doesn't mention his new bruise. And he won’t, at least not until you tell him what it is that has kept you up so late. 
"I – well, I was waiting for you to come back..." 
A pause. 
You pull your lip between your teeth, eyes darting over his face, shoulders climbing towards your ears with tension. He can practically see your mind whirring, and he can see the exact moment you decide against finishing your sentence. Your eyes drop, and your shoulders with them. 
A sigh. 
Then: a small smile.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Which... you are. Clearly. I think. At least, you look—"
You stop yourself, realising that you were babbling. With a pasted-on sheepish smile and an awkwardly cheery wave, you turn towards the door. 
"Well! You must be tired, get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow morning!"
The forced cheer cuts through your fatigue for only a few seconds as you rush the words out and turn towards your room, and he sees the corners of your mouth dipping down the moment you think he can't see your face. You're not a bad liar, by any means. It just so happens that most of the time you're together, you're the only thing Jason sees.
"No."
"What?"
Confusion contorts your face as it snaps to look at him again. Your eyebrows knit together, lips pursing and pushing out into a pout. It's cute, and he's quite sure you have no idea you do this.
"I'm going to camp right out here," he gestures at the (incredibly uncomfortable) couch as he looks straight at you, challenge evident in his voice and in the set of his squared shoulders – "And I am not resting until you tell me what you need."
You frown, lips pressed together into a tight line. You're weighing his response, trying to piece together just how serious he is. Jason reaches up to unclasp his helmet, lifting it off and letting you see that there's very little humor in his eyes – just enough to soften you into spitting out what you really wanted to say — but not enough to let this go.
That's enough for you, though, even in the limited light. Only three months of cohabitation and somehow the both of you could read each other just as well as the stacks of books that crowded the apartment – well worn, annotated, so many of them in various states of disarray, torn and stained and bent, nearly all with cracked spines, but still so so beloved.
He can read you a little better, though, what with his years of vigilance and, well. Everything else that followed.
Jason knows you – the same way he knows the locations of all of Bruce's safe houses, or the exact number of times he could call Tim 'the replacement' before something heavy would be launched at his head. That is to say, concerningly well.
There wasn't a twitch of your eyebrow or a blush or a glare or an angry press of your lips against each other, or a quirk of them (he may have studied your lips especially well) that he hadn't committed to memory, that he didn't know by heart. He wonders if you know, and he wonders what you'd think if you did.
Another sigh, your shoulders sag further, and he makes a mental note to take you through some exercises to improve your truly terrible posture.
"Jason, it's really nothing that can't wait till morning, I just –"
"Come on, dude," He scoffs, not unkindly. "I know you wouldn't have stayed up so late if it wasn't important enough to keep you up."
He nods at the dregs of coffee in the mug you'd forgotten on the centre table for emphasis. There's no hiding from the world's third (or maybe fourth?) best detective that it's the special, strong type that you usually reserve for the most daunting of deadlines.
You swallow up the rest of your words and let out a huff. This time, it's more frustrated than tired, and he can see the flash of irritation in your eyes. You glance away from him, arms coming up to clasp your elbows, encircling yourself in a loose hug. Discomfort radiates off of you in waves, and as you sink your teeth into your lips again; he notes the steady rise of your shoulders towards your ears.
A flash of annoyance goes through him. Not at you — never at you — but whatever new inconvenience this city has wrought for you. Whatever it is that has you up and walking around at 3 AM in the morning after a draining day of work and study and worrying about him.
He fights the urge to step closer, to wrap his hands around your shoulders, smoothing the bare skin and loosening the tightness in them. It would be so easy — there's barely four feet between the two of you, in a few steps he could be holding you and —
He stops himself from following that particular train of thought.
Red Hood faces open gunfire head-on almost daily. Sometimes, he even takes an explosion or two to the face. Then there was the time he'd died, followed by all the times he'd almost died. And he still couldn't remember the last time he'd felt true, bone-deep fear.
But this, this was dangerous territory he was terrified of treading. Yet he was unable to deny the existence of the temptation, always tugging on something in his chest like a low undercurrent, occasionally crashing over him in a wave of desire to touch and protect and hold. To slip his fingers through yours, through your hair, over your lips, between them.
He wonders if you know how easily he can read you, see the way your mind is running through excuses and half-truths to throw him off right now, extricate yourself from this uncomfortable situation and put a safe distance between you again. He should let you do it, really. Even you know that this territory is... not for you. Which is why you were now teetering at its edge after taking these few hesitant steps towards it – him.
But still. He can't ignore the tug. He can deny the waves, stop himself with a savage jerk on his mental reins. That low undercurrent, however – he nurses it, lets it guide him. He has to. It hasn't been long since you met, but he already doesn't know what he would do without it guiding him back to you, day after night after day, painful blow after near-death encounter.
And so he narrows his eyes at you, ready to counter anything you say that isn't the truth.
He feels like a dick; he really does – dangling his well-being in front of you to get you to just stand up and say it. He does this sometimes, pushing you and inconveniencing you – borderline bullying you into being honest with him.
But he knows he's right to be doing this. You have enough fire in you to push back when need be, when he crosses a line, and knowing you, you would've stormed back into your room without a backward glance and with a slam of your door, if whatever this was wasn't bothering you so much.
"I..." You paused to glare at him, just to show him that even if you were playing along, you did not appreciate playing his games.
Jason hides his smile and just raises his eyebrows.
Hands clenching into fists, you glare up at the ceiling as you wrestle with your words, as if hoping for divine intervention.
Another sigh, this time an admit of defeat.
"Fine – but I'm warning you – it's stupid –"
"With you, roomie, I doubt it is."
"Jason, can you please stop interrupting me? I'm really trying here."
Jason raises his palms in a silent apology, an acknowledgement of his dickish behavior, saving the real sorries for later.
You nod in acceptance.
"Okay." Deep breath. "I just wanted to... show you something. And spend some time with you. You know, because we haven't been able to catch up lately and I –" You stop, voice strangling around the next words, catching yourself. You take a breath before continuing. "And I could really use your... insights."
Your voice trails off, and he can feel you wince internally as you slip into impersonal corporate speak, an effort to avoid any words that were more intimate than they had the right to be.
Jason knows. Or at least he can make a damn good guess as to what the words you'd struggled to choke off were. He knew, sure as hell, it wasn't ‘insights ’, but acknowledging the unsaid words was very much stepping into the dangerous territory. And like you had when he slipped up and called you babe, he doesn't.
If he felt anything less than what he did feel, he would have joked about it, said something like: "Aww, bestie, I miss you too". Then you would laugh and shake your head and you would slip back into the easy camaraderie that had marked the beginning of your relationship – before Jason had started noticing the precise way in which the hearts that you signed your notes off with varied in size and number depending on the mood you were in, or the way your hand reached for his every time you crossed a road together.
So instead, he says nothing. He just waits.
"I'll be in my room," you say, arms wrapping around yourself again, a blush rising steadily up your neck and onto your cheeks. You nod at his gear. "Whenever you're ready, just come in. I'll be up."
Oh. They were to be alone. In your room. Probably on the bed. No, definitely on the bed. There's no space for a desk or chair in rooms that come with apartments in this part of Gotham, especially the ones affordable for students. No, there's only one place they can sit comfortably together.
Not that they haven't sat on your bed – or his bed – together before. They have, countless times. They've cuddled and huddled, most times with a pile of snacks for company.
On the days they'd given up on any possibility of productivity, they'd marathoned all their comfort movies and franchises before falling asleep, arms around each other, legs tangled, and depending on who'd had the worst week, a head tucked under another's chin, lead gently into slumber by the comforting rhythm of a heartbeat.
They'd binged Lord of the Rings (NOT The Hobbit series; you both agreed that that was a waste of time, though Jason had stronger, angrier feelings towards it than you did), almost all the Austen adaptations (you could never decide which Emma you liked better – the one with Anya Taylor Joy had the beautiful production and a great depiction of the relationship between Emma and Harriet, but the one with Gwyneth Paltrow had a certain charm, and the leads good chemistry); John Wick that one time – he'd adored the way you'd poked him and asked him if he could do/had done some of the particularly impressive stunts (he could, and you'd been thoroughly impressed); Fast and Furious – only till the sixth one though – Jason personally thought Fast Five was where they should have ended their binge, but you were partial to the sixth one (because of the romance, you said), and Jason had grudgingly accepted it's merits. 
That was, what, at least 40 hours of just watching movies? And that didn't even include the time they'd spend just hanging out together, reading silently, or watching something on their own (though one of them would inevitably end up joining the other).
No, he's definitely been in your bed, comfortable with the tugging undercurrents of longing in every laugh you shared, the way you'd sniffled unfailingly at the last march of the Ents, and when his eyes watered at the ride of the Rohirrim, the way you'd both sighed at Darcy's confession, and when you'd turned to Jason as you watched John Wick lay waste to New York's criminal underworld in revenge for his dead dog, and ask: 
"You'd do this for me, right?"
"Absolutely."
"Okay, good. I'd maybe hire someone to do this for you, since you know. I can't kill a man with my bare hands."
You could kill a man with your smile, though, Jason remembered thinking. You killed him a little every day and brought him back just as well, each time just a little bit more whole than the last time he'd been brought back to life.
Sure, he'd been in your bed. But not like this, not when the darkness of the night had melted that thing in his chest – the thing that searched for you the moment he woke up – and brought it out from where it was safe in its cage, to the back of his mouth, the tips of his fingers, the pupils of eyes – poised right on the edge of saying, doing, showing the wrong thing.
Say no, the admittedly miniscule part of his brain that didn't leap to fulfill your every wish insisted. They've given you an out already. Just say you're more tired than you look and talk tomorrow. This isn't just treading - this is running blind and unarmed into dangerous territory. Say no.
But... they miss me, the overwhelmingly persuasive part of him that ached to sweep that particularly unrepentant loose curl into place every day reminds him. They're up and they're worried and they want me to come talk to them because they miss me. I miss them.
His heart twists. He can't say no, never could.
Jason wonders if you know that he would walk into a shootout blindfolded, without armor and with a grin, if that could bring you anything worthwhile. He turns a fond smile your way, his careful expression melting away. 
Your breath catches as the corners of his mouth lift. When Jason smiles like that, his eyes crinkle, they shine at you as if you're all he sees, and it was heartachingly beautiful in it's rarity.
Jason's smile was a golden patch of sun on a cold day; you're powerless in its wake to do anything except curl up in its warmth and bask – always longing for more and more. 
"You know I wouldn't say no to that. I'll be right there,” he says with all the seriousness of a wedding vow.
You fight the urge to linger, to drink in his smile with your eyes and infuse every inch of your body with it's sweetness. You force a small smile of your own and with a wiggle of your fingers, you return to your room, feeling his gaze settle on you until you close the door behind you gently.
He doesn't hear the click of the lock, and so when he heaves his own sigh of defeat, it's in the safety of his own room, between him and the busy silence of the city.
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panpanicatmha · 6 months ago
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!!Fics For Gaza!!
Hi all! My dear friend rin ( @socalledsomethingorother ) sent me a link about a blog on here that is using fic writing as a way to raise money for families in need in Gaza.
I will be accepting customized My Hero Academia fic prompt requests in exchange for proof of at least a $1 donation to one of the families displayed on https://gazafunds.com/.
My rate will be $1 for 125 words. The more you donate, the more words the prompt will get (ex. if you send proof of a $5 donation, I will write a 625-word drabble/oneshot for your specified prompt).
In terms of guidelines of what I will be accepting in requests, I will need the following:
relationships/characters you want to be included
the specified prompt/topic you want written (prompt must be less than 200 words)
specific details/headcanons you would like included
In terms of what I do not accept/will not write:
NSFW prompts (beyond suggestive jokes/implied sexual themes).
Adult/minor and/or incest ships.
Any character bashing prompts that aren't the following characters: Tomura Shigaraki, All For One, Hisashi Midoriya, Endeavor, Monoma Neito.
Romantic Izuku x Ochako (platonic is completely fine).
Canon x OC, OC x OC, x reader, x Y/N, or self-inserts
Of course, I will also NOT be accepting any prompts that are insensitive towards the atrocious war crimes happening in the genocide in Palestine.
Beyond that, I am more than happy to discuss specifics. Please feel free to send proof of donations to my ask box and/or DMs!
Again, this is in partnership with @ficsforgaza , whose blog I definitely suggest you check out! I strongly urge for all my fellow writer mutuals (and reader mutuals) to join this cause.
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fairene · 4 months ago
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good for you / ln4, part one
lando norris x fem!reader
no use of y/n, as always.
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in which you and lando have parted ways, but on what terms? at what cost is he willing to get you back, and how far down are you finished with him? what lengths with the two of you go, battling with your hearts, before you can be together once more? he knows that no one is good for you, except him.
a/n⋯ a collaborative piece between myself and the lovely @jamminvroomvroom. she will be writing the next chapter, so keep your eyes out! we don't have a total idea of how long this'll be, but we are so thrilled to have it ready for you all. jas is an amazing writer, and i am so, so lucky that she wanted to do this with me. shower her with all the love, and i hope you enjoy this. as usual, reader's clothes are left up to interpretation. this is for you afterall;)!
warnings⋯ smut, MINORS DNI 18++. language, drinking, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), insecurity, arguments, exes to lovers(?(we shall see!)) possession, jealousy. if i forgot any warnings, feel free to let me know.
wc��� 5.2k (unedited.)
the night began well. the boy you were with was well. you were well. that was the most important thing, wasn’t it? it must be. it had to be, you convinced yourself of that very fact. truly, you had no reason to complain. your friends supported you, loved you, were obsessed with you. and you had a man on your arm who felt the exact same way, and would kiss the ground you walked on.
but others, another, would worship you. used to. but now you were alone, a goddess left untouched, brazen in this world of antagonists. yet, it was a change. it was a change that you needed. this relationship you had with damian was one of new blood. a shift from your tumultuous routine that felt liberating over a life you once mourned. 
damian was a man of respectful nature, good upbringings, and he was a good chat. he was fit, treated you with a sweet tenderness that you adored him for, and didn’t devolve into a flaming lair of toxicity to keep you trapped. 
and, he was a football player, which was a bonus. he played for barcelona’s team, and you couldn’t be more proud of him. after your previous relationship concluded, the pair of you were introduced by mutual friends, namely the ferrari driver, carlos. you were apathetic at first, unsure of if this was the right move. if it was too soon to want to jump into something. 
but damian was kind. he adored you. what else did you want? 
more. 
you danced with him. in the night life of monaco, you were showered with his attention. the attention of your friends. it was a weekend off for the drivers, so you were able to meet up with the other girls you knew. kika and alexandra in particular, who’ve been entirely supportive of you these past few months. 
they danced with one another, cheering you and your now boyfriend on, shouting pleasantries of how good you looked at his side. 
damian’s hands around your hips felt good. it felt right. when the bass dropped, so did you. he caught your seductive actions and his eyes widened. there were no words to describe his expression besides admiration. you loved his eyes the most about him— his dark hair, tanned skin, muscular physique— 
shit,
maybe you did have a type.
you spun back around, latching your arms around his neck, and he cradled your lower back with his palms. “what?” you questioned his stare that was unrelenting. 
“nothin’,” he scoffed. “you’re just absolutely beautiful, innit?” 
your head fell back with a laugh, patting his chest as a means to quiet him, but he kept going. 
“‘m serious,” your name was low on his tongue. “you’re practically glowin’, love.” 
you peppered a kiss on his lips. he met you halfway, swallowing your mouth whole. his tongue entered your mouth, and you could only respond with a noise deep within your throat. he felt the vibration against his lips, and continued his movements. 
the pair of you were swaying against each other’s bodies, tongue down one another’s throats, and for a moment the world washed away. something that hasn’t happened in ages, you felt like a makeshift paradise was born between the both of you. a hideaway. 
but mirages only serve their purpose for a short time before they fade away into nothingness. 
you broke away from his kiss. he looked surprised, offended, but you said nothing of his expression. you brought your lips to his ear for a brief kiss, “i’ll get us drinks?” 
he nodded, letting you go. 
you brushed past him, trailing your hand up kika’s arm. she immediately spun towards you, alexandra’s attention drawing as well. they beamed when they saw you, following you right over to the bar. the triad of you loitered there, swirling the drinks you ordered in hand. 
“so?” kika asked you, as if she’s been dying to hear this story the whole night. alexandra glowered at her, pestering her to be quiet, but you’d answer her regardless.
“it’s good.” 
the girls looked at one another. 
“that’s it? good?” kika looked baffled. 
“what? what else do you wanna know?” you took a sip of your drink, feet hanging from the barstool that you were sat upon. 
“anything!” alexandra exclaimed. “haven’t seen you this happy in months.” kika made a face at her, telltale of not to bring up what happened. ah, you thought, what happened. none of you discussed in great details of what happened that night, but they knew it was intense. intense enough for you to lock yourself away for a week with no contact. it was a horrid sight, and they were terrified for you. 
“well,” you shrugged. “i am. really. damian’s a great guy.” 
the girls squealed, grabbing your free hand. “he seems lovely, doesn’t he? ugh! you look so good together, too!” kika was more excited than you expected her to be, but her support meant the world. along with alexandra’s approval, you felt like you were taking the great steps that were needed to…move on. a dreadful phrase that has been bouncing back and forth in your mind. 
“you really do. and he’s an excellent photographer. i mean, look at these pictures he took of you—” alexandra passed you her phone, damian’s instagram story open. it was of you, looking divine beneath the yellow-hues of the club. you’d give him credit where credit is due— you looked fantastic. 
your hand flew to your mouth, covering your smile. that only had the girls squealing out more, finding your bashful attitude enough to answer their wearisome concerns. they were so worried about your state after the breakup that they would hound you. would stay as invested as they could in your life, until they were rather annoying. but you were grateful for them nonetheless. without them, you would’ve never met damian. without them, you may not have ever found happiness. however temporary it may be, it was what you felt at the moment. 
when damian’s drink arrived in front of you, you swung off the stool and bid them a sweet goodbye with a kiss in your palm, blowing it in your direction. you sashayed through the crowd, slithering through the stalks of grass, and made your way into his arms. he reacted instantaneously, holding you close to his chest. his chin rubbed against your shoulder, clean-shaven, and whispered to you.
“thought you ran away on me.” he said with a hushed tone. you swiveled to hand him his drink, which he took, but not before pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand. 
“me?” you made a ‘pfft’ motion with your lips. “never.” 
but oh,
how right he was. 
damian let out a soft laugh before the two of you made a ‘cheers’ motion with your glasses, and danced the rest of the night away. it was a beautiful evening, truly, and you shouldn’t be feeling the way you were. devoid. 
you pushed down the feeling as much as you could. 
when you and damian left the club that night, you were happy. glittering with the sparkles of what young love was meant to be. you’d only been dating for two months, but it had you on the edge of your seat. fantasizing about what a life you could have with him. 
but some things just stay fantasies, don’t they?
“you sure you’ll be alright?” damian asked you when you unlocked the door to your flat. you hummed with appreciation, feeling the buzz of alcohol through your system. 
“i’m sure, my knight.” you said with dramatics. he smiled, appreciating your small antics. they kept him on his toes. 
“whatever you say, babe.” he shook his head, holding the door open for you. you stepped inside, gripping the wood, and turned to face him.
you kissed him once good night on the lips, “i’ll text you in the morning.” he nodded against your lips, unwilling to let go, but did when you laughed against him. he was sweet. a sweet, sweet boy.\
“goodnight.” you cooed. he returned the phrase, and you shut your door and locked it. 
now alone in your apartment, you threw your bag to the empty countertop and sauntered over to your room. fuck taking a shower tonight, you were just too tired for all of that. you stripped of your dress and threw on an old tee shirt that you had, unknowing of its origins, and laid in your bed.
on your phone you scrolled briefly on instagram, but froze on a singular post.
it was a suggested post. you were instantly gripped. the man draped over this girls body was instantly recognizable. his tanned skin. the stubble on his chin. the curls atop his head. the curls that you used to be obsessed with, running your fingers along his scalp.
you stared at the description:
paradise!
paradise. you scoffed to yourself. 
tagged in the photo was the man himself. you clicked on his profile, curious, though you promised yourself you wouldn’t. once wouldn’t hurt, would it? too late, anyways, as you were down the rabbit hole of his feed. 
the first post was a feature of him at his races. then, the second slide was a picture of him and her. what was this feeling? how could you find the audacity to let your stomach churn, your heart race? it wasn’t your place anymore. your place, albeit fought for, was not at his side. 
he looked happy.
but so were you.
you were.
you are.
but the suggested post of his new girl had you hooked. it had you seething. biting your thumb nail with your front teeth, you made an impulsive decision.
you liked the post. 
the night was just beginning for lando when you were in your bed. in the club with his mates, he was bumping to the rap mixes they played on the speakers. drenched in the mix of sweat and alcohol, he was living the life he dreamed of having. it was everything to him, picture perfect that no one could argue. 
but there was something missing.
the girl at his front, his girlfriend, grinded against him with radical intentions. she was beautiful, of course, but that was all the words that lando had for her. she accessorized well, was in the media spotlight, and that’s all the boxes it took for him to swoop her off her feet. it was easy, truthfully, and their relationship has been a breeze.
but lando didn’t want a breeze, he wanted a storm. you were the eye of the hurricane that he yearned for. nothing about that has changed– and he feared, deeply, that nothing will ever turn his head. he’d been fixated on you since he laid eyes on you, your attitude. you kept him on his toes, not laid down and bored. 
the girl, samantha, spun around to wrap her arms around lando’s neck. his hand traveled to her lower back, holding her close to him. she shouted and cheered with her girlfriends, lando’s own doing the same. but he said nothing, and brought his cocktail to his lips, gurgling a deep swallow of the bitter liquid that heated his throat. 
with his bloodshot eyes and weary smiles, he’d attempt to be picturesque for the media. media, media, media. everything returned to the circulation of photos that’d come out with him and his girlfriend. girlfriends. you. he’d never felt so protective of you, of anyone, than the relationship that you had with him.  nothing could compare, especially how samantha boasted in every post that he was with her. 
her following count jumped well over five hundred thousand since he came in the picture. of course she never said anything, made it a point to speak about, but he knew. lando watched. scrolled endlessly through his phone in the middle of night, drinking up every word that his fan spewed out. a folly of comments asking where you were. what happened between the two of you. but he never made a post about it. it had been radio silence on his end, just as it was the same for you.
but it’d end with him throwing his phone to the side, and promising himself that he didn’t care. he couldn’t care. not when you weren’t his anymore, and that you walked out on him that night with valid purpose. he failed you, and that was on him.
in the meantime of your absence, samantha was there to fill the gaps. to soothe his broken heart with her painfully long acrylics that dug into the back of his neck, her pathetic moans of pleasure when he fucked her better than anyone ever could, and the rocking of his hips against her own in the darkness of the night club. 
for now, it was enough. just barely, as it scraped the surface, but lando would down cup after cup to glue the pieces of his heart that you shattered. 
samantha continued her movements. lando didn’t relent either, finishing off his drink, slapping his palm against her ass. the crowd around them erupted in cheers, and lando plastered a bolstered smile across his face. this is what they wanted. the surface level teasing, the sultry nature of grotesque actions. but it is not what he wanted. he craved the solitude, the comfort you brought him in the hours of the night before his races. he’d been a phantom crawling through this season, a ghost in the shell of a formula one driver. 
“you alright?” samantha asked him. apparently he hadn’t been good at hiding the turmoil from his expressive face. her puckered lips had his eyes shifting downward. her bare chest, barely covered tits. 
he’d say nothing in response and simply go in for a kiss. a deep one, aggressive, filling her mouth to the brim with his tongue. maybe this could erase the memories of you, however stubborn they were on placating in his mind as permanent fixtures. 
his hand came around the back of her neck, angling her head better for him to swallow her whole. the bracelet, silver imbued with his logo, clanged against her large golden hoops. it was a loud noise that samantha pulled their lips apart. she turned her head to glance at the jewelry, and her lip curled with disgust. 
the bracelet. the bracelet you gave him. 
she scoffed and he could hear it, but he opted to say nothing in rebuttal. instead, she stalked away from him, looming large near the bar. he followed her tail, knowing that this spat between them wouldn’t last long. 
she ordered a drink. lando’s head spun as is. 
samantha pulled out her phone, bringing her drink to her lips, and damn near spit out the liquid. she covered her mouth from it spilling, and lando watched with a raised brow. 
“what?” he asked of her. 
“she liked it.” she. who’s she? who is she?
“what? who?” lando begged for clarification. samantha spun her phone around to shove it in his face. the screen illuminated him beneath the barely visible hues of light, and his eyes nearly popped out of his skill. 
you liked her post with him. 
you who swore you wanted nothing to do with him ever again. you who snapped the chain of the necklace he got from you, though made of the toughest silver, the metal was nothing beneath your furious fingertips. 
lando swallowed, though it did little to stifle his salivating mouth, his racing heart. he clutched the back of the bar with one hand, feeling the world collapse in on him in that moment. a singular like on a photo he didn’t even want to be posted. all it took to have him breaking out into a cold sweat, feeling nausea tug on his stomach, was a like on instagram. 
fucking pathetic, wasn’t he? 
his thumb came to spin the bracelet around his wrist, twirling it in front of him. samantha hadn’t noticed, too hyper focused on your account. she uttered words that he couldn’t make out. things along the lines of, ‘weird,’ ‘she’s obsessed, ‘innshe?’ but they never made sense to his ears. if anything, you were obsessed with staying away. obsessed with anything but him, contrary to his own feelings. he wasn’t even sure if they mattered to you— did they?
in retaliation, he knew only one thing to steady his heart. he took samantha by her wrist to the nearest restroom, a single stall, and banged on the locked door.
she stood there, speechless, but had a feeling how this night would end. it brought a cruel smile to her lips, but she covered it with her phone in hand. she knew this is how she’d get some of the best sex of her life, when he was riled about his ex, brimming with fury. she didn’t care that she was being used as an outlet, for she was using him for the same. 
so she didn’t care.
the man in the bathroom left with a curse but lando didn’t seem to give a fuck. he pulled the girl inside and slammed the door behind him, locking it without a care in the world. against the wall she was pushed, ravished by the company of his lips. he sucked and tugged at her lower lip, becoming so bold as to bite the flesh with his top teeth. she smacked his arm and he relented, knowing damn well that you would’ve been moaning with pleasure. 
his lips left no surface untouched as he trailed down the surface of her body. along her collarbones, her bare chest, but he left no marks. he never did, much to her dismay, as if he were saying that she was never really his. because she wasn’t, his thoughts were rampant. this should be you. 
lando hiked up the fabric around her cunt, scrunching the dress in his hand. his other made work around his pants, shuffling them down so his blistering cock could spring to life. it did, but with the work of you in his memories, and not the girl who was spilling her breasts for him in face. 
he didn’t spend long serenading her with his tongue, though it would be a different story if it was you beneath him. he spared no effort where his lips rejected, the only way he found himself happy would be with your own against his. they were claimed for you and you alone. 
it would be a fair assumption to say that you utterly ruined him. 
his dick slid into her with ease with the help of his spit across his hand. he had slipped a condom on, too, tearing open the packaging and threw it to the ground. samantha’s hands came to wrap around the back of his neck, her claw-like nails digging into his skin. it had him curl his lip, not finding the sensation enjoyable, but he didn’t care. not when you were thundering on his mind. his storm, his sunshine. 
she moaned deeply at the contact, finding her g-spot with no effort whatsoever. she was already a mess beneath him as he solidified a pace, grunting in the wake of his thrusts. 
but he wasn’t thinking of her. ‘course he wasn’t. he was thinking of the first time he had you. you in your light-toned dress, you with your big, sparkling eyes. it would be there, beneath the moonlight of his monaco apartment, that he’d taken you to his bed for the first time. and that was the first time you’d ever came at a man’s touch, and lando wouldn’t forget that he was the first you spilled a name on your tongue. 
how you voice was so iridescently sweet. how it curdled his heart into a bow, tying it off with a kiss. your scent had him stirring with craze, frenzied as he ate you out that first time, and nothing ever compared. your cunt was the nectar of his life, fueling him day to day whilst he could have you. when you were his. now he was a man running on fumes, on the oils you’d left behind in his apartment. there wasn’t much he could spare, but that fucking liked photo seemed to do the trick. 
it’s enough to hold him over for the time being. the pace at which hips were thrusting increased, sporadic. his hand came to clutch the base of her throat, but samantha slapped his hand away. the wall would suffice, but knew you’d beg him to hold you. clutch you with your life in his hands, bestowing him the greatest trust he could ever earn. he’d have you tearing up, whining, mewling with pleasure from his hands alone. now, the sex was black and white, when you were the whole world. ripped away from his clutch, he’d be empty handed. 
she shouted his name, “lando–!” while she came over his cock, tightening around him. he’d groan, forehead flush against the concrete of the wall. 
he was reaching his own. those photos of you on your instagram. the feed of your soft launch with that fucking football player. how your friends posted the pair of you— how you were glowing in every light that caught your face. you were so fucking beautiful, so perfect, that he couldn’t help but cum at the thought of you.
but this time, he made a mistake. 
it had been your name that flew past his lips when he filled the condom to the brim. it was your name that he grunted in her ear. not samantha’s.
she was furious. disgusted. she shimmied out of lando’s hold, tugging her underwear up and her dress down. 
lando knew he fucked up. this wouldn’t be the first time, and ultimately, not the last. 
before she left with tears streaming down her face, she had words. “you’re pathetic,” she spat. “take off that fucking bracelet. you know she won’t want you back.” 
and then she was gone. 
lando was left in the empty stall of the bathroom with his head draped against the wall. his breaths were rampant, coming down from the high of his orgasm, but there was no regret in his mind. there was nothing there except the distress of his memories, the titration of you that fumigated him, held him in a chokehold. 
he fixed his pants, washed his hands, and glanced at himself in the mirror. sweaty, bloodshot, exhausted, he didn’t recognize himself. he didn’t recognize the man that was there; unshaved, overgrown hair, sloppy dress attire. this wasn’t him. he was nothing without you, it seemed, and it would drive him into the fucking ground sooner, rather than later. but he was betting on the latter. 
aggravated, he let out a curse, “fuck.” before he left the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. 
when the both of you were in your beds that night, you tossed and turned. a whirlwind of emotions swaddling the both of your beneath the comforters, you kept checking your phone to see if he texted you. you wouldn’t ever say it, but you’d unblocked him a week after you broke up. you wanted to see if he’d chase you. but he didn’t. he didn’t. 
he was on his phone, too, fresh out of the shower. waiting. looming on instagram to see if you’d like any of his posts, but he saw no activity. but he did see that his fans caught wind of your liked post. confusion was stirred, wondering if the pair of you were friends again. he couldn’t help but chuckle at that insinuation, because he was wondering the same fucking thing. 
but when you both put your phones down and settled in for the night, you were consumed by your memories, and so was he. 
you’d dragged him from the event that night back to his flat. when you opened it with the copy of his key he gave to you, you threw your bag on the sofa without a word. you made move to run right to your shared bedroom, but lando wasn’t far behind, and grabbed your elbow. 
“what is it?” he asked, confused, and that only angered you more. 
“you’re serious?” you said, mouth agape. you couldn’t believe he claimed to not have a single clue what he’d done. what this mess had been amounting to for quite some time. 
“clearly, otherwise i wouldn’t be asking,” he said with a bite. “would i?” 
you rolled your eyes, attempting to pull your arm out from his hold. but he didn’t relent. he kept his hands firm on you, keeping you settled. 
“don’t be daft,” you hissed. he simply raised a brow, shrugged his shoulders. “how you treated me.” 
he was still clearly at a loss, free hand coming to rub the back of his neck with a scoff. “and how did i treat you, then?” 
your hands flew up with contempt, finally loosening his grip. “this! like this!” your voice raised. “first you hate to post us, and then you say ‘we’re not that serious’?” 
that night you’d been standing beside lando, keeping him company with his mates, when they popped the question about the sincerity of your relationship together. you’d expect him to answer with a smile, saying that you were very much in love— because he’s told you that numerous times— but he simply batted the question off with a ‘not too serious, innit? here for a good time.’ 
“you know i didn’t mean it that—” 
“oh…! here we fucking go.” you turned your back on him, head falling into your hands. you ran them over your face, “you say that. you always say that. ‘it doesn’t matter,’ ‘they don’t know the truth,’ then why don’t you tell them?” 
he couldn’t believe what you were saying. that you didn’t trust him, didn’t have faith in the words he spoke to you in the peacefulness of your bedroom. 
“we don’t owe them shit,” he spoke your name in a controlled tone, gritting his teeth against one another. 
“and when i get flamed on instagram? twitter? for taking you away from them?” the fanbase that lando acquired was some of the most valiant people you’ve ever witnessed, but could also be the most brutal. 
“you know how they are—” 
“i didn’t sign up for that.” you retorted quick, shouting this time, which had his face going a ghastly white. “i’ve done nothing but love you. cherish you. and you can’t owe me the decency to speak kindly on my name. defend the ‘love of your life,’ — as you���ve so called me before!” 
lando was stunned to silence. 
“and what do you have to say to her now? while i get numerous death threats, how they’ll kill my family, tarnish my work.” you waited for an answer, turning back to him with your hands up. 
he said your name again, stepping closer to you. but you threw your hand up in front of him, halting his steps. 
“no. no. what would you say?” 
lando swallowed the thick, anguished lump in his throat. 
“i’d tell her i was sorry.” he took a step closer, letting your hand rest on his heart as he bumped into it. your lip quivered, finally coming to terms with how emotional you’d gotten. “i’d tell her that she means the world to me, and that i’m the biggest fucking mug she’s ever met.” 
your breath stifled. arm relaxing, he closed the distance. 
you began to believe him. 
“and i’d tell her she’s more than what the internet says.” that had you flickering your eyes up. was he still not going to make a statement? “and that their words are meaningless.” 
you raised a brow at his indecency. 
“threats that they’ll find my parents? dox them, send feds to their house?” you backed away from him. he realized that he fucked up again, and that it could cost him everything. 
“you know that won’t happen—” 
“and if it does?” you were still firm with your statements, however desperate he looked in his eyes. “what then, when i get a call that my parents house was ransacked? what would you do, oh lord of fame?”
he took a step back from you as if your words pierced through the thick flesh of his heart. he didn’t see it that way, didn’t see how you saw it. the words of hate he received online were toilsome, ignorable, but it was different from you. you didn’t ask for any of this, and he knew it more than true that you didn’t deserve it. 
but he made the discovery too late. 
“that’s what i thought.” 
you moved to grab your bag, your phone, brushing past him whilst he was locked in place. his heart was bursting out of the cage of his chest, his mind pushing him forward, but he was terrified. terrified that if the next words he’d say, you’d be gone. 
“don’t fucking call me until you figure your shit out. i’m not playing—” 
you were stopped when you were pulled against lando’s chest. his stubble grazing your shoulder, bringing you a greater comfort than you’d sooner die than admit. you felt his heart against him, racing with a speed greater than his car, and let the tears slip from your eyes.
“stop,” you shook your head, begging him to let you go.
“don’t,” he begged, not even sure what he was truly begging for. “don’t go, baby, don’t leave.” 
but your mind was already made up. though his begging could suffice if the circumstances were different, but he’d already made his mind up, too. he embarrassed you, threw you under the bus, and allowed you to be tormented in the eyes of the media. you knew it wouldn’t be easy, but you also thought he’d defend you. 
yet, you were met with radio silence on his account. 
and nothing but an endless stream of apologies, but no solution. 
“let me go.” you said. metaphorically, physically. your hand went to the necklace around your neck, picking at the chain. 
he shook his head, refusing. 
“lando…” you hissed, trying to weave out of his grip. you finally turned to face him, seeing the tears falling from his eyes. 
you were crying, too. it felt like something was ending, though you didn’t wish it to be true. but you couldn’t let this media abuse continue any further, and needed to protect yourself, your family, when he failed as its guardian. 
“don’t go. please.” he begged, forehead coming to connect with yours. you sucked in a tight breath, wishing to relieve him of his sadness, but your own was overpowering. 
“i have to,” you said, holding back a sob. “i’ll be back once you find a way to fix it.”
it was enough to bring the formula one driver to his knees, falling to the carpeted floor. he shriveled beneath your disappointment, unable to keep himself afloat with your wishes. 
“get up.” you hissed, wiping away the tears from your own face. 
but he didn’t, and laid his head on your stomach, pushing his face into you as hard as he could. you could feel the indent of his nose, his lips. the quivering of his jaw, the shaking sensation of his fingertips as he wrapped around your waist. 
“don’t leave me.” 
to be continued
tags ; @landoslutmeout @basicallyric @mybluesoul1 @toriiez @customsbyjcg-blog @sofs16 @strengthandstay @mybluesoul1 @f1fantasys @cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch
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justlemmeadoreyou · 1 year ago
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This is the collection of everything I've ever posted! It's not too good, but I hope you like it anyways!
Please don't interact with my writing if you're not above 18. You can interact with me, talk to me if you want, but you shouldn't be here if you're under 18.
I TAKE REQUESTS! There are a bunch of them in my inbox as well, and I try to write them as soon as I can! But please don't do that thing where you send the same thing to multiple writers--it is kinda off-putting for me.
I would love for anyone to like/comment on/reblog my posts. Everyu interaction is much, much appreciated, and hey, it helps us grow. It's free-supporting people who write here. So please, do what you can!
searchable tags: #harry styles fanfiction for all original posts. (to filter out the reblogs) #ask for all asks in my inbox
Please don't repost or translate any of my works anywhere. Any support in the form of likes and reblogs is truly, madly, deeply appreciated!
Here's my ko-fi for any tips you would like to give me!
Hope you have a great day! 🫶
updated on: 19/5
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HOLIDAY FICS 2023 [8]
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HEADCANONS
jealous!harry headcanons
boyfriend!harry headcanons
boyfriend!harry headcanons (another one 🙈)
dad's best friend!harry headcanons
mean!friends with benefits!harry headcanons
harry in love
grumpy!harry headcanons (mechanicrry universe)
husband!harry headcanons (explicit version)
secret relationship with 1D harry (headcanons)
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《《 SERIES》》
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Secret Little Rendevous | (co-worker!harry x reader) [COMPLETE SERIES]
In which you are in a friends-with-benefits relationship than Harry, and it gets messier as you go forward. (Not your typical enemies to lovers fic)
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5
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Unfulfilled | (nerd!harry x reader)
in which you and harry are (friendly) academic rivals, and things change
part 1
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A Chrome Connection | (grumpy!harry x sunshine!reader)
In which you are in desperate need of some car-fixing(and a place to live in) and you find Harry, a grumpy mechanic who supposedly dosen't care about people around him. But, will he melt when he finds a broken girl crying in her car on a cold Thanksgiving night?
a misfortune - part 1
windfall - part 2
melancholia - part 3
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Hopelessly Devoted to You | (lawyer!harry x reader)
In which Y/n just wants to leave her abusive husband, and Harry is hopelessly devoted to her
Part-1 Part-2 Part-3 Part-4
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Sweet Creature | (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)
you landed your dream job as a line cook at Harry Styles' prestigious haus kitchen restaurant in chicago. the tough chef job demands focus, but it's really hard when your boss looks like harry styles.
part 1 part 2 part 3
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《LONG ONE SHOTS》
An Eternal Embarce* (hades!harry x persephone!y/n)
in which persephone is back after 6 months, and the underworld blossoms once again. tensions arise too, but there is nothing that the king of underworld and queen of sspring can't handle together [Word Count: 7k]
Just the two of us -vday check in
Serendipity*
harry meets you at the most unexpected of places, and helps you like a knight in a wedding suit. it all starts at your best friend's wedding, where you find yourself in a predicament without an escort. as panic sets in, harry appears, sent by the groom's brother to fill in as your last-minute companion. from that moment, a serendipitous connection begins to bloom between you both. [Word Count: 5k]
Solace* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n) part 2
harry is in need of some unwinding and destressing, and he finds the perfect masseuse for that. they end up growing much closer than the relationship they began with, but it's never that easy, is it? [Word Count: 11.6 k]
Rain-Kissed* (footballer!harry x nerd!y/n)
y/n and harry, former rivals turned reluctant partners, find unexpected chemistry. heated glances, playful banter ignite a spark. a near-tragedy makes y/n confront feelings, and...will they be reciprocated? ft. lots of mutual pining [Word Count: 6.1 k]
Intertwined* (hockey player!harry x figure skater!y/n)
harry practices at the local ice rink every night, but lately, all he can think about is a specific figure skater that he admires from a distance. when she asks him for some "private" lessons on ice, will they give in to the stolen glances and undeniable tension? [Word Count: 6k]
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《ONE SHOT/BLURBS》
SMUT
hot n' hard*
you and harry are at the pool for some fun, and you both rile each other up throughout. you both end up fucking at the edge of the pool and your exhibitionism kink has never been fueled so good.
thigh riding*
you playfully tease harry and, let's just say, it does not go well
don't stop
riding harry with your hands tied behind your back
breeding kink-blurb*
harry sees you around kids on a Christmas dinner, and he's obsessed with giving you his own
cupidity*
"don't make me take you home and punish you"
his* (jealousrry blowjob blurb)
harry is jealous, primal and dominant tonight, and you have never been so turned on
temporary fix*
in which a stranger at a bar becomes your good night (inspired by temporary fix by 1D (duh))
three knuckle deep*(aka fingering blurb)
in which you break harry's rule, and there are consequences
curves*
a plus-size!y/n fic
good girl*
straight up filth, sex w/ harry
euphoria*
soft dom!harry while his girl sucks on his cock
near the fireplace*
sex near the fireplace after a christmas dinner
a new year, a new beginning*
new years with harry's family, followed by some love making
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FLUFF
drunk harry
in which harry is drunk, and you are trying to take care of the cutie pie
drunk y/n
in which you have a test the next day, and you find refuge in drinking and harry
addicted
about Harry’s addiction of kissing you
vexed
in which you are burnt out, and Harry comes to your rescue, in cute pajamas, with cookies and hot chocolate
tranquility
inspired by harry's pics of him swimming in the ocean
here for you
a fluffy period blurb, ft. pillow fights and kisses!
baby
boyfriend!h takes care of pregnant!reader, with a lot of fluffy cuteness. the baby kicks for the first time, and harry is overjoyed.
cuddles
ft. harry being cuddly and clingy
late-night serenades
you play guitar, but harry dosen’t know that. one night, you can't sleep, and harry's guitar looks quite tempting
breakfast in bed
in which harry wants to bring you breakfast in bed, but you have woken up. thankfully, he is cute and you're smitten
hold on to me
(trumpet player!harry x clarinet player!reader) you're both off to college after a while, and it's your last time playing together. feelings are comnfessed, and promises are made.
a christmas with harry
your first christmas with harry at his home, surrounded by his family and friends
dance with me
in which you and harry are at a friend's wedding, and you really don't know how to dance
thanksgiving
coming from a place where thanksgiving isn't celebrated, harry is more than happy to show you
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ANGST
trepidation
in which you are too busy for the relationship, and he feels you slipping away.
insecure * requisite(part 2)*(SMUT)
in which harry feels insecure, because you want to keep your relationship a secret. ft: fluff, angst, dirty talk
waiting * for you(part 2)
a 6 month anniversary date turns into broken promises and doubts over your love
disconnected*
first time sex with harry, which leads to misunderstandings, miscommunication and insecurities
requests are open!!!
(*-> smut)
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blurb night concepts
21/4
divider and header by @/saradika
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mysaintkitten · 3 months ago
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drabble prompt: your bf cheats on you and you seek comfort from your stepbro
WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, stepcest of course, mutual masturbation
note: it’s been like two months since I’ve written so I’m sorry that I’m rusty :,( I hate how inactive I’ve been but my writers block has been sooo bad. praying I get over this soon and start actually getting back on track. anyway, hope you like! *also not proofread*
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“Jesus, how could he do this to you?” Neil cooed empathetically as you sniffled. You couldn’t believe your boyfriend went and cheated on you, after all you’d been through together.
Typically your first instinct would be to confide in your friends, but it was far too late in the night and you knew none of them would be awake. So, hesitantly, you sought solace in your stepbrother.
He accepted you in and surprisingly provided you the comfort that you so desperately needed at a time like this.
It started off innocent, he really was just trying to help. He brushed your hair out of your face then rubbed your back, inching his body closer and closer until your thighs touched.
One of his hands sat behind you, while the other lightly grazed the top of your thigh, assessing your comfort level before going any further. When he noticed you didn’t push him away, he got more confident with his touches, his large palms massaging the soft skin.
“His loss,” he purred as he leaned into your ear, “he doesn’t know what he had.”
You blush and briefly shift away, but continue to let Neil touch you while his lips brush against your neck. This was wrong, neither of you could avoid this. But you’d always thought Neil was attractive, and all you want right now is to feel desired, so why not just see where this goes?
Neil’s teeth graze your neck, he whispers that he has an idea.
His plan quickly leads to your thighs over top of his, your glistening cunt and Neil’s hard cock sit mere centimetres away from one another. Neil’s got his hand on your inner thigh, running his thumb against one of your lower lips. Your hand mirrors his, as you lightly grip his base with your fingers.
“God,” he smirks at you, his eyes heavy with visible lust, “your boyfriend’s a fuckin’ moron”. He fucks his bottom lip between his teeth before moving inching his thumb closer to your folds, gently grazing it across your swollen clit.
An involuntary gasp falls from your lips at the contact, and your grip gets tighter around Neil’s cock in response.
He begins to rub slow circles against the sensitive nub, his eyes fixated on the way your cheeks flush deeper and your tits get harder.
He keeps rubbing, picking up his pace while his jaw goes slack. His thumb occasionally dips down to your opening, spreading around your arousal before bringing his attention back to the top. You’d almost completely forgotten that you were meant to be touching him back, until you feel his free hand rest over yours, guiding your soft palm up and down his cock just how he likes it. You mutter a small, almost inaudible apology, before pumping him all on your own.
Neil groans, his head dipping back, his eyes stuck on your leaky little hole. The hand that was just guiding you now rests on your other inner thigh, squeezing and massaging the smooth skin.
“N-Neil,” you mewl as you spread your legs further, inching your hips impossibly closer to his, the heat radiating off of his body is driving you insane. “This is bad, we gotta-“
Neil chuckles, taking his attention away from your clit to spread your lips apart, watching how it glistens and pulses for him. He dips his middle finger inside, your core eagerly accepts him in, clenching around him desperately as if she’s asking for more.
“How bad can it be if it’s got you this wet?” He taunts, “just wanna make you feel better, that’s all.”
He was undoubtedly making you feel better, the friction and warmth between your legs filtered out all of the unpleasant thoughts and emotions that were just racing through your mind.
As much as he likes your hand, it’s just not enough anymore. He suggests that maybe you should sit on his lap. Neil promises he won’t go inside, he just wants to feel you closer, it’s still just a little touching- isn’t it?
You straddle his lap, his flushed cock sitting lewdly between your wet lower lips. He chokes back a moan, his knees bent and feet planted on the bed with his heavy hands resting on your hips. Slowly, you roll your hips, grinding your sex against his throbbing length. You dip your head back and moan while his tip bumps against your swollen clit, your arousal crudely coating his length as you pathetically rut against him.
“F-fuck …” Neil chuckles breathlessly while he guided your hips skillfully, “you need me so bad, baby.”
Your head tipped back down and your lips found Neil’s. You don’t kiss, but your lips touch as you pant into each other’s mouths, mutually embracing the pure arousal dripping from each other.
“Yeah,” you whine weakly, your voice all high and breathy, “need more, need you.”
He groans as pre leaks from his tip, he was so set on not fucking you tonight, but the wetter and more insatiable you got- the harder it was to deny these urges.
“Maybe just the tip,” he pants with a grin.
I don’t feel confident about this .. like at all .. but I Need to get the ball rolling somehow. I’ll be going through my requests and seeing if anything can reignite my motivation. Wish me luck !!
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saetoru · 10 months ago
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this blog is now archived !! find my MASTERLIST here !!
hi guys, and here’s a long overdue post that i wanted to take the time to make after collecting as many screenshots as i can for a lot of rumors that i think need to be addressed. before i do that, i wanted to apologize to all of my mutuals who ended up wrongfully harassed in their inboxes for simply knowing me—the irony of this issue being about bullying all the while people on this app have been simultaneously being genuinely awful to other writers who have zero involvement has been ridiculous.
i would’ve made this post sooner, but december was very busy—as you all know, i’ve been working with two separate companies for my capstone projects, and i had final presentations with boards to worry about. and then a cruise which was fun, but i was offline. now that i’ve finally had time to enjoy my break and collect my thoughts, i’d like to voice my own side to the discourse i’m sure you’ve all seen posted by @/garoujo, who is now @/gojoath.
first and foremost, i’ve been on tumblr for almost 4 years now, and while i may not have the brightest moments on here (no one will be spot-free in that amount of time), i’d like to think that if i actually went out of my way to vicious or bully people, this would’ve come to people’s attention a lot sooner. i’ve had a relatively large following across all 6 of my blogs in my time here, and while i don’t like to get into the metrics of my blogs, the reason i point this out is because i have willingly started my blog over 6 times. 3 of these were sfw blogs under my nickname tee, another 2 of which were my previous nsfw blogs under a different alias, and saetoru which is the current one, where i finally decided to combine my sfw and nsfw writing into one space. i just wanted to bring that up because i had quite a habit of leaving and restarting blogs before this one, and had i been obsessed with outperforming other writers in terms of follower counts, i would not have left the previous ones as often as i did. 
that being said, i’ll also go through a timeline of events and how they’ve snowballed into an issue that is not as one-sided as most of you might think. i’ve been mutuals with emmie since my first blog, and i’d been mutuals with her through most of her blogs as well. we’ve never really had issues until her last blog @/garoujo, which she’d started after deactivating @/atsymu due to discourse regarding racism accusations. the reason why we had a falling out was because i felt that there were a series of odd coincidences that felt slightly purposeful, but i was still questioning whether or not i was looking too deeply into it to actually point any of it out.
admittedly, when i saw her first set of banners, i felt our layouts were a slight bit similar, but i really didn’t mind too much because i had been planning to change my banners anyway because i was bored of them. so i took that as an opportunity to do so. it just so happened that within a day or two of every time i changed my banners, hers would be changed too—i never said i owned the color gray, and i even fully acknowledge that the last two sets of banners, at first glance, wouldn’t be a red flag. because, like i said, i was more uncomfortable with the pattern of coincidences than the actual layouts. then i switched to my instagram theme, and not long after, i noticed her add instagram story visuals to her navi. again, no one ever said instagram was my original idea, and that no one else could use it, but it was an unsettling feeling having the same moot continuously make changes around the same time as you, and changes that are different enough that you can’t exactly point out an issue, but slightly similar enough that you can’t exactly ignore the slight oddness.
coincidentally, the same day, another blog (who i will not name bc they’re not very active anymore and are also not very relevant to this story) made the same theme as me and i was a bit peeved because this same blog is someone who has copied a few other things from me and a handful of other moots, so i made a subpost on my moots-only personal blog at the time. keep in mind, i made this post fully aware that emmie was on this blog because i didn’t intend for that post to seem like it was about her. but she reached out to me, and i explained to her the situation, and i even provided the relevant screenshots to show my points. i still considered her a decently good friend at the time, and even with the slightly off feelings, i was still adamant about brushing them off and considering them coincidences that perhaps i was being a bit too critical of.
it wasn’t until i woke up a few hours later after changing my theme and going to bed that i noticed she’d then fully switched to the insta theme. again, instagram is an app used by millions and, at one point, was a very popular theme used amongst most people on this app. i’m not entitled enough to believe i was the first person to do it, but like i said. there are just off vibes most of us will not help but feel when a series of coincidences continue to happen back to back to back by the same person.
there were, amongst these things, a number of other small touches that made me feel off. most of them i don’t remember by now or have screenshots of, so i won’t bother to go into all of them, but for reference, one example i’d also like to point out that i’d had the phrase “you’ve reached the hanmas” in my inbox when she was still on @/atsymu, and sometime after, her sfw blog @/loveatsu had the phrase “you’ve reached the miyas.” small things like this are not things i make an issue over and am more than capable of brushing aside, but like i have said and will continue to push firmly is that i felt there were multiple instances of emmie, in particular, making small tweaks to her blog shortly after me that made me feel were not all coincidentally similar. the issue was never themes or thinking i am the first or only person to do something a certain way, the issue has always been me countless times feeling that one particular individual is exhibiting a behavior that is persistent and uncomfortable no matter how minuscule the instances may be. maybe they were really just unfortunate coincidences that happened with poor timing, or maybe they weren’t. but i stand by the fact that anyone in my shoes would be valid to question the timing of each of these events over and over again.
i would also like to bring up kinktober (though this happened a while after the rest of what i will get into) because this was the first public discourse that emmie and i got into due to an anon’s claims of similarities between our posts. i had received an anon who told me “i think someone copied your kinktober masterlist” which i answered to ask if they could let me know who. they had come back to say it was garoujo, and i did not reply to the ask, instead, i made a post to vaguely tell the anon that i appreciate them letting me know, but i will just leave it be and continue on with my kinktober regardless of emmie’s mlist. i do think there were some vague similarities, but honestly not enough to really question it, so i figured a confrontation or issue was not necessary. a while later, several moots had messaged me to let me know they had received anonymous asks saying to “block @/garoujo she copied @/sakusins and she’ll copy you too” (or something along those lines, i don’t remember exactly.) i myself was very confused (and upset) by the situation because i did not, and still would not, want to be publicly name-dropped in other people’s inboxes over issues that do not involve them. unfortunately, it led to some not-very-kind asks to both of us, and while i am sorry she had to deal with that, it is not an apology from a sense of culpability. that situation was, and still is, entirely out of my control. i would not have seen the masterlist unless the anon had mentioned it, and i did not take part in having people send asks about her to other writers. especially not in a manner that was pretty much social suicide for me as well. 
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(this is a poorly made collage i know lol but i hit the picture limit bear with me here.)
i would also like to point out that i am not the only individual who has had issues with emmie and feels she had copied them. although i cannot disclose urls (they have been blocked out for privacy reasons) here are a few conversations i have had with my own mutuals, and i would wager there are more people whom i haven’t talked to who also feel this way. they might be small enough instances that sparking issues over them was not worth it to all of these people, therefore she has never heard from people herself about this issue, but the point does still stand that this claim about emmie is not one i alone make, and is one that i have heard countless times before. her never being approached by these individuals for the sake of peace doesn’t erase that they have been, and are, upset by these events, and it’s a habit that she seems to continually partake in. i would also like to link this post where she has been called out by another writer while she was still atsymu, which was posted while we were still friends. i’ve actually had a discussion with emmie about that post, and at the time, i had quickly skimmed the post and felt it was perhaps a reach, but after my own experiences, i went back to reread the post and considered perhaps there was validity to it, and that this might not be a one time occurrence. plagiarism in manners such as this will always have conflicting opinions, and it is hard to sometimes tell if something is a coincidence, a popular and overused idea, or something that has actually been copied. my point is that a number of people have all felt that perhaps there is a good chance this was not an accident, and please consider that so many instances of people feeling this way might suggest that there is a certain degree of validity to the claim.
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at the beginning of all of this, when the masterlist banners had first started bothering me, i was upset, and i chose to vent to an ex-moot of mine who most of you would recognize as munsonsins. abby has deactivated a long while ago, but she’s relevant to this because i had chosen to vent to her at the time, and this is more or less what later caused this situation to escalate. at the time of venting to her, i knew she wasn’t mutuals with emmie because, as you can see, she’d told me as such. 
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one thing i would like to point out is that there were a handful of people i had vented to about my frustrations with emmie, but one thing i had always been mindful of was ensuring these were a) individuals who i considered close friends and not just random individuals, and b) were not friends or moots with emmie in the event that i accidentally made people who she cared about think lesser of her. had abby been mutuals with emmie, i would not have shared my feelings, and once again, i was not loose-lipped enough to just tell anyone because they’d listen. i told abby in particular because i had felt we were sufficiently close individuals who talked one-on-one and were able to vent to each other. a bit after i vented to her, though, she befriended emmie, which i had no such issues with because abby was/is her own person and is an adult who can interact freely and befriend whoever she wanted/wants to. 
not long after that, on the night before eid (this detail is relevant in the future) an ex moot of mine @/kazuwhora reached out to me. if you guys remember, there was a discourse last year that was all over dash about how writers on this app should be open to criticism. a lot of people (including me and kc) were upset by that sentiment—which is still valid. please don’t give constructive criticism to writers without their explicit permission !! but regardless, kc sent me a screenshot of a mutual of mine who had posted their opinion on this discourse, and their point was clearly that while constructive criticism is important in some aspects, writers do not have to be subject to receiving it should they not want to. unfortunately, i felt as if kc misunderstood what this individual was trying to say, and i was trying to explain it to her, but we got into a small argument over how we interpreted the post. i felt some of the things she was saying about this individual were inappropriate, and i had made it clear that i was very fond of this person, and it made me uncomfortable to be having this discussion. regardless of whether she saw my interpretation of the post or not, i wanted to drop the discussion, especially because it was the night before eid. eid is the one holiday i celebrate, and there are traditions i quite enjoy the night before, and i didn’t want them to be spoiled with a poor mood over a silly argument. unfortunately, she wasn’t very willing to drop the topic, and it ended up making me upset. so i posted this screenshot to my moots only personal from the conversation that consisted of my messages only and said, “tonight i had to explain what a debate is.” it was petty, perhaps, but very harmless, seeing as there was no context given and no names/pfps to indicate who the person was.
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truthfully, i had vented separately to cat, eris, and abby about this argument because i was friends with the three of them at the time, but needless to say, venting to your friends about arguments is a universal action, and i believe it is something all of us have partaken in. 
eventually, i decided to softblock emmie because i felt it would be more comfortable for me on my blog to do so. after a bit, i was informed of a subpost that seemed like it couldn’t be about anyone other than me—to make things clear, emmie subposting me was not my concern. i did not hold it against her because she is more than entitled to have her own feelings and vents on her own blog, but the thing that did concern me was that it seemed slightly evident that she was aware of my feelings when i had never explicitly had a conversation with her. it made me question who would tell her, and as you may have guessed, the only person with whom i had shared my concerns who could also be in contact with emmie was abby. 
at the time, eris had also voiced concerns that they had trusted abby with the ending of the plot for the diluc series they were planning, and coincidentally, one of abby’s friends had posted a fic idea eerily similar to their concept, to which abby had been commenting and reblogging more brainstormed ideas under. all of these ideas were very close to the plans eris had for their series plot, and understandably, they felt that it was not a mere coincidence that their entire plot was being brainstormed on dash by a person who was fully aware of their outline. i’d voiced my concerns with believing that abby may have also been sharing things i trusted her with, and as a result we both had made a few vague subposts that we liked from each other—a petty behavior, i will admit, but not something that i think is very out of the norm for a lot of people on this app. sometimes, we all just want to vent out our frustrations, and because we all more or less use tumblr as an outlet, these can sometimes be vaguely taken to dash. it’s not something that is ideally recommended (i’ve learned the hard way) but it’s also ?? not exactly something that only i’m guilty of, or is even a rare behavior. i think to shoot down one person for this behavior is quite frankly hypocritical. again, subposting isn’t a habit i would like to push as mature but it’s something i’d like to point out is very normal in this community, and is not something only i take part in. beyond that, i take to ensuring that whenever i do, i’m not explicitly exposing who i’m talking about in order to keep them out of unnecessary issues. 
after this conversation with eris, it kind of solidified in my mind that i did not want to trust abby with any more personal vents, or information, and i had ultimately decided to soft block her too. i had also decided to take the opportunity to softblock kc as well because i figured i might as well just remove individuals who i felt made me uncomfortable. this is, again, my right to do so to curate my own space. not long after, cat, eris, and i had been softblocked/hardblocked by a number of moots, and we were a bit confused, until cat ended up having a conversation with kc. many accusations were made about all three of us, more specifically, about me to kc by abby because the two of them had been discussing that they’d both been softblocked by me recently.
the list of accusations we were told of is as follows:
me, cat, and eris have a “burn book” where we “blacklist people.” it’s important to note that every time this discourse resurfaces (this is now the fourth time), the “burn book” has fundamentally changed in its composition—it has changed from a discord server “burn book”, to a google doc “burn book”, to the current rumor that it was an entire blog that was used as a “burn book.” it is consistently changed to fit whatever narrative is trying to be pushed, and regardless, the rumor itself is entirely untrue and has been addressed multiple times. cat has had a tumblr theme, a collab theme, and a server theme all dedicated to the film mean girls. she simply had a channel that was to share the urls of minors to block for interacting with nsfw works, or people who were anti-dark content—this is something that i have seen in all servers i’ve been in during my time on tumblr, and is not a new concept for many of you either. it’s simply a precaution a lot of servers take to warn writers about potential minors to block, and potential anti-dark content harassers. the name of this channel happened to be “the burn book” because it was a mean girls themed server, so the name just fit. nowhere in this channel were other writers in the community “blacklisted” or spoken negatively of, and here are the screenshots of the channel. this was simply something abby had twisted in order to paint us negatively. here is the link to cat’s post addressing it for proof and explanation (i run out of pictures or i would include them myself.)
abby also claimed that i was using this channel to talk poorly about kc and a handful of other moots. this is also false bc this server had several strangers (as it was cat’s server and i didn’t know all her moots), but it also had several of kc’s mutuals/friends in this server as well. i’m not so dense as to talk poorly about other writers publicly in a server, let alone a server i know has people who are friends with kc
now, this next part, emmie has conveniently painted out to be about me, as i apparently harassed and blacklisted people for liking itto from genshin impact, but i have been playing genshin for over a year on this app, and quite a large number of you are my own followers who see my rambles and my writing and i don’t have to explain that i have never written for itto, nor explicitly expressed an interest in him apart from perhaps one or two posts from back when i did his story quest. i never had, and still to this day, have no interest in the character itto. i’ve skipped his banner, i plan to skip his upcoming banners should they come, and i have never written for him, nor do i plan to write for him. this issue with itto is between eris and another individual, and i do not have the details to this, as i was new friends with eris at the time, and i’m no longer friends with eris as of current time. quite frankly, even if i knew the details, i wouldn’t go out of my way to share them because it has nothing to do with me. plain and simple.
as you can see, there were a number of rumors spread here to kc by abby, and as you can see, all of which led me to seem quite vicious in character. i’ve provided, to the best of my ability, screenshots and receipts of why each of these is quite drastically out of context and far from true to what abby has claimed. 
i did in fact, after these events confront abby because i was genuinely appalled by the way she knowingly and purposely twisted things conveniently to villainize me. she expressed that she was upset and paranoid by the subposts that she figured were about her once i’d soft blocked her, so i apologized for the posts. she had conversations with both me and cat about the rumors she’d started, and she also apologized for them to both me and cat.
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the rumors that emmie has claimed about me in her post, which she conveniently provided no evidence of, are all rumors that are more or less a result of my differences with abby and kc. unfortunately, despite cat trying her best to explain to kc the falseness of most of these rumors, she didn’t really believe them—which is her business. to each their own. i’m sure if i had been in kc’s shoes and in one night, someone i had considered a friend had been painted to do a series of nasty things behind my back, i also would not know what’s true and untrue, and she is entitled to piecing together what she believes is her truth. what’s not fair, however, is for emmie to have no involvement/understanding of these events apart from a twisted narrative she heard from one person and dog pile them into her claims of my behavior to further paint me as a villain. emmie is more than entitled to have her beliefs on my character based on her own experiences, which she has provided her own evidence of, but simply slapping an “and i heard she also….” does not necessarily make claims true, and is very manipulatively thrown into the post to add a list of things that make my character questionable to further validate her point. 
not only this, but she has made a point to openly admit that she and her friends have collectively mocked me for my relationship with my ex-boyfriend, who they have apparently labeled as my “fake” boyfriend that i used to get attention on this app. quite plainly, i get enough attention on my blog that i don’t need a fake boyfriend to amp that up. but furthermore, i am a south asian, muslim individual. my parents are immigrants with very strict religious and cultural beliefs that i feel are very restricting at times, and though i love my family, i struggle with my identity quite a bit as i live in a very western culture that clashes quite a bit with my cultural norms. i do not get to freely explore my sexuality or even romantic life in general, unlike some of you. my parents have been kept in the dark about my relationship because them knowing about it is something that could quite literally create a rift between us, and i find it very insulting and almost suspicious that a white girl is making a mockery of my cultural struggles and my personal life. many of you are either desi or muslim or simply children of strict immigrant parents with quite stubborn traditional views. i’m sure plenty of you understand where i’m coming from when i say that i have to keep my relationship hidden from the majority of the people around me. tumblr is the one place i can anonymously share bits and pieces of my life without worrying about if it will literally cost me my relationship with my parents, so sometimes i may have overshared silly or pointless things, but that is because it’s my own way of being able to express myself and my relationship the way i have always wanted to. apart from that, dragging and making a joke out of someone’s personal life is quite unnecessary in this case. the issue is about tumblr discourse, and i find it very hypocritical that i am being labeled a bully when people, more specifically a white and privileged individual, is plain and simple mocking and poking fun at my personal life and situation that i have no control of. that is my piece on that. whether some of you believe i had a partner or not is not my business, nor do i have to go out of my way to show you evidence of my personal life. what i will say, however, is that there are a handful of close friends i have on this app who are involved in my personal life and have seen evidence of my love life through pictures and private stories on social media. quite frankly, these are the only individuals who i have to justify the validity of my personal life to, and it’s honestly quite violating for someone to stoop to dragging someone’s outside life into issues about tumblr. i extend a very genuine fuck you to every single one of you that have ridiculed my personal relationship and just know that you are extremely bold to consider yourselves above bullying when this is the type of behavior you admit to engaging in. individuals with complex familial relationships, and identity struggles between cultural norms, their ethnicities, and the western world are not your playground to make a joke out of. some of us have very real struggles, such as not being able to pursue careers in favor of arranged marriages, not being able to pursue actual relationships that mean something to us due to a lack of familial approval, being forced to bear children at young ages due to familial pressure, and so on. they are not laughing matters, and are a part of my reality. and before some of you get started—yes, it really is that serious. i have struggled my entire life with having white girls poke fun and tease at my cultural norms, and i refuse to allow another white and privileged individual who already has a record of racially related discourse walk away with once more poking fun at my personal struggles and not be called out for it. i hope you had a good, long, satisfying laugh emmie.
onto my next points based on claims @/anantaru has made about me. the main thing i’d like to really point out here is that anantaru and i have never, not even once, interacted to the extent of my knowledge. they claim that cat and i cannot stand it when people cross us in numbers and that we go through people’s likes in order to find minors and blank blogs to explain all the notes. a) i am very bad at checking for minors and blanks in my own notes, so this is not even a logical approach on my end, but b) this claim is made because cat made this post under the tags of a post going around last year that asked to hear unpopular ficblr opinions.
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what cat means to articulate here is that sometimes, when she is scrolling on dash and interacting with moots and their shit/talk-posts, she peeks at profiles she sees in the notes and has happened to catch minors lurking. cat, firstly, has never followed anantaru, so they are not a “victim” to cat glancing at their likes, but secondly, this is not nearly as psychotic as it’s painted out to be. cat is not, and was not, jealous of other blog's notes. quite plainly, she’s not exactly a tiny blog either, and she’s only stumbled upon minors in the talks-posts of moots, including me. shit-posts/talks-posts are easy to notice minors lurking on, and while most people recognize that it’s quite impossible to catch every minor and ageless blog in writing posts with numerous notes, a simple shit-post on dash is more simple, and her unpopular opinion was simply that blogs that grow rapidly need to be better about catching those minors because they are susceptible to having more of them lurking. it’s a really harmless sentiment, and she’s gently reminded me as well on more than one occasion to be more responsible about my habit of being lazy when scouting for minors in my interactions. 
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this is not out of jealousy, nor is it some sick and twisted habit she has to “explain” why people get more notes than she might get. it’s also out of a place of concern for her own content ?? i myself and plenty of other large blogs reblog from mutuals, and they are well within their right to be concerned that perhaps minors are lurking on our pages and interacting with works we reblog from our mutuals. cat has voiced this concern to me before, also out of goodwill and simple concern for my content, her content, and minors in general. there is simply no need to twist it into her viciously looking down upon large blogs and their notes counts and claiming they’re “only because they don’t block minors.” admittedly, though, i do need to be better about catching minors, and i have always appreciated her trying to keep me in the habit of being responsible about it. more importantly, it was a small passing comment under a post of unpopular opinions, a lot of them were hot takes, and this is hardly a serious one to get so heated over. 
i’d also like to point out that anantaru has claimed we blocked them for being a gatekeeper and because we’re jealous of their notes. 💀. a) i am very grateful and very happy with the level of interaction i get on my writing, as more people than i imagine leave me countless comments and reblogs. i have never had an issue with comparing my interaction with that of other writers because i have always been abundantly content with the interaction i get. i have no other comment on this other than cat and i blocked anantaru at the same time because we happened to see a post of theirs reblogged onto our dash that made a joke that we felt was a bit insensitive to/alluded to SA—i’m sure it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, but it made us uncomfortable regardless. while we are both dark content supporters, and i myself have read more than one fic that includes noncon in particular, it doesn’t mean we have to like/enjoy everything related to it and we simply decided to block them. i’m not going to bring this post up bc it’s simply not important. they are an adult who is more than entitled to make jokes on their blog and cat and i do not have to like them !! we simply did what we were well within our rights to do, and that’s blocking them.
there’s more they go on to say about receiving hate asks and that apparently it’s because of our “group of friends.” cat and i don’t have a group of friends. i don’t have any group chats with her besides the one with her boyfriend because i get along with him sometimes as well, and we used to play genshin together a lot when i was in low ar. not that i have to explain my friendships here, but i quite literally do not have a group of people to “send after” anantaru because people are well aware of my close friends, who i text with my personal phone number. i’ve posted silly screenshots of convos on my blog multiple times, and none of these friends overlap because i do not have a “group” of friends, just individual friends who i talk to one on one. cat is not friends with my other friends, and my other friends are not friends with her. there are no inner circles that conspire together to send anyone hate because i “tell them to.” and if there are screenshots of me explicitly encouraging someone to send hate on anon, i would love to see it. if i had sent my anons after anantaru, it would have to be a public post, and i’m sure if there were a post of such nature, it would have been brought to light by now. they have also claimed they were given multiple urls of mine to block. i only have ONE writing blog, @/saetoru, and the only other two that are still up are archived blogs @/hanmine and @/katsuphilia, which are side blogs attached to saetoru and have been inactive for several months. there are however, multiple individuals on this app who also go by the name “tee,” and perhaps we have unfortunately been mixed up as the same person, but the only blog i have is saetoru, so there is no other active blog they have blocked me from that belonged to me and was able to harass them.
not only that, but anantaru has claimed that one person off anon sent them hate with a kaeya url which they insinuate to be me. once again, you are all more than aware of my history of urls, and many of you have all been here to see them. i’ve never once had a kaeya url, nor have i ever been particularly interested in kaeya outside of a small number of posts on a rare occasion. my genshin favorites have always been characters from sumeru and, at one point diluc, and once again i don’t have to ?? explain my selfships to you all ?? but literally, i have nothing to do with a kaeya blog or kaeya account, and im unsure why it’s being thrown into my name. quite frankly, i’m not sure  what their moot has told them we have said about them, but the only conversations cat and i have ever had about anantaru was that one about the noncon joke, and that’s it. outside of that, there is literally no evidence of us speaking about this person because it simply doesn’t exist. 
i implore you all to, instead of starting public discourse over things you hear, confirm them first. had anantaru reached out to me or cat and expressed that they are upset that we are supposedly spreading false rumors about them gatekeeping, then whatever misunderstanding it might have been could have been cleared. i would like to also point out that it is not above bullying when you simply dump numerous accusations that you have heard through half whispers from moots and provide 0 evidence for them. i am perfectly aware of why emmie may consider herself to have issues with me, but i have never had an encounter with anantaru, and truthfully, i’ve never actually even read their writing before. my main (and pretty much only) experience with them is seeing the joke i saw reblogged onto my dash, and as i stated earlier, the only thing i did for that was block and move one.
and lastly, the other point i’d like to make is that numerous blogs who i have been objectively very kind to have come out to take the opportunity to stomp on my character and reputation. for example, tumblr user @/osaemu, who used to follow me and interact with me quite often. i have always been excited to interact with her because she was really supportive of my gojo writing, and at one point, i had a small area of concern with her using the same exact title as me for a gojo fic. below are screenshots of our conversation regarding the titles.
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i am quite confident that this is a very polite interaction, and i was very clear that i didn’t think that her writing elements, including gojo’s parent dynamics and his dynamics with the reader, were copied or even something that i felt she needed to change. i pointed them out as a way of indicating that between these parallels and between the fact that i know she reads my rb! gojo series, i find it difficult to believe that our fic titles being exactly the same is a coincidence, and it made me uncomfortable—my concern was not how she wrote gojo’s parents or his dynamic with reader. i never accused her of stealing ideas that were mine alone to use, all i simply wanted to do was shed light on the fact that based on these parallels, i figured the names being the same was a touch difficult for me to brush aside as a chance similarity. i was very clear to outline that i know these dynamics and themes in writing are generic, and that people can pull inspo from them because i have done the same thing. my only concern was the title, which i politely asked her to change, and she agreed. case closed. i have been, again objectively, quite kind to osaemu, and i had no intentions of blocking her like a moot had suggested because i felt it was a very silly issue to block over since she was very lovely to me. 
i did, however, block her because she posted one-paragraph posts with multiple characters tagged. that’s not a crime on her end, and i’m certainly not here to police her posts in the tags, but as me and plenty of other people on this app have voiced multiple times, it is a bit irritating and feels like spam to see posts of these kinds in the tags so i blocked her. this is a very popular opinion and i refuse to be considered problematic for it. i am not here to police what constitutes an appropriate post to tag x reader tags on, and while i have made posts simply sharing my opinion on what i feel should and should not be tagged, osaemu is more than welcome to post whatever she feels she would like to into the tags. i do, however, block anyone who i come across who makes those kinds of posts because i simply don’t like them, and i don’t like seeing them. i don’t owe an explanation for why i block anyone, but seeing as i have been painted as some bitch for doing so, here is my reasoning. quite a lot of people agree on this sentiment, and to each their own, but i don’t enjoy seeing those posts. i did also unblock her at one point, as she mentioned. this is simply because a mutual of mine had voiced that they felt someone had copied the concept of their drabble, and i was helping them word a message to send, so i went back to this exact conversation to look back on what i said because it was a similar situation. as you know, blocking someone hides their dms from your dm list, so i had intended to temporarily unblock her just to see how i worded my message to help formulate a message for a mutual. there were no screenshots sent, i simply wanted to jog my memory of my points, that’s all. i did forget to block her again for a bit but eventually did, and that’s the extent of our interactions. i don’t recall posts telling people that i condone sending anons with death threats like she has claimed, and if she could point out the particular posts i have made where i encourage people to send anon death threats on my behalf, i would be more than happy to clear them up, or address them. 
i have admittedly, on a few occasions said in my responses to anon hate itself, the phrase “kys” out of frustration, and there are i’m sure conflicting opinions on that, but i do not regularly use this phrase in my vocabulary. i have been on the receiving end of graphic sexual and violent asks in my inbox regarding me, my teenage sister, and my mother, during my time on here, and sometimes out of frustration i have said less than dignified things, but this is not a constant behavior, and frankly, i think once people make graphic, violent, and inappropriate comments about my 16 year old sister, saying “kys” in response is not the greater of the two evils. it is a tad bit hypocritical to expect benevolence from me to an anonymous hate ask just because there is “another person” at the end of the screen when they have not extended the same sentiment to me.  
all of that being said, jumping on the trend to trample on someone while you have the opportunity to because you’re bitter they blocked you is also no better than bullying. apart from blocking osaemu, I have taken careful steps to always be respectful to her due to the very kind comments she’s left on my writing. leaving nice comments on my writing is deeply appreciated and welcome, but that doesn’t mean i have to subject myself to seeing posts i do not want to see on my dash on my phone. i pay for the phone bill, so i will cater my phone to show me what i want to see, and if that includes blocking a few people, i am allowed to do that !! i should not have to apologize for or be crucified for blocking someone and their feelings being hurt over it. 
not only this, but several of you have somehow started a rumor that i am 26 or even pushing 30. that’s nowhere close to the truth. i’m 21, soon to be 22, and i have stated multiple times i am an undergraduate college student. of course, there is no timeline to college, and people of all ages complete their undergrad degrees, but i have made it a point to vent about my concerns numerous times that i am very stressed about taking extra classes every semester to compensate for changing my major late because i want to graduate on time. my graduation year is 2024 (as would make sense seeing as i will be 22 years old), and if you don’t believe me, i have celebrated my bday on april 12th of every year this blog has been active. you’re more than welcome to check my archive to see if that’s true, and for further reference, here is a picture i have sent to mods of servers i am in to be accepted. (note that my url used to be hanmas before saetoru.)
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although there is no shame in being 26 or pushing 30, the reason why i wanted to address this is that i wanted to point out that yet another rumor has been fiercely pushed on my name and has been believed to be the truth. no one has to walk away from reading this post assuming that i’m a saint and i have never done anything wrong or that i have been faultless in differences i’ve had with other people. but a lot, if not all, of these claims are exaggerated with 0 evidence, and people have just run with claiming them as true. i physically cannot deny a large majority of these rumors with evidence or screenshots because half of them are made by people i have never interacted with or talked to, and i cannot produce evidence for interactions that never happened. i have seen blank, burner blogs post stories of their experiences with me, one in particular that claims i dm’d them to tell them their hanma fic was breathtaking before i harassed them about their theme, boyfriend, and parents. a) i do not dm anyone to compliment their fics because i am simply too shy to do that. i would have only reblogged the fic with comments if i enjoyed it. b) again, there is no evidence on their part, and i cannot dispel this story with evidence of my own because evidence of conversations that never took place does not exist. and c) i would like to think i do not come across as dense enough to attack someone in their dm’s viciously about their boyfriend and parents openly with my account, where they could easily spread the proof around if it had actually happened. i am not responsible for people’s internet literacy, and if people believe every story that is shared with not even a small piece of proof that it took place, i cannot do anything besides simply urge you all to formulate your opinions based on what you see, not based on what you hear. 
i would also like to end things off with an apology to all of you—mainly because there was no reason for so many of you to be dragged into something that did not involve you and also because there are very disturbing and important issues going on right now in real-time in the world that are affecting a lot of people. i never want to be involved in something that takes attention off of important discussions such as genocide, and while many of you like to claim i am deflecting, i think it is quite telling that some people have posted nothing about something this important but have made multiple posts regarding discourse. i did not feel it was appropriate at that time to focus on discourse, and i still do not think so, but i wanted to leave off with my own statement.
i would also like to apologize if i have ever come across as unkind during an experience with me; it is never my intention to be that way purposely. i have a habit of being petty sometimes and can be a bit short-tempered, and it’s something i work on. with as large of a following as i have, sometimes it’s better not to say anything at all than say it—however vaguely it might be. i hope some of you who also have larger followings keep that in mind so that you can avoid discourse erupting into something grand scale. please vent to people you trust and be wary of having a habit to subpost. but mainly, please remember that people trusting you with their feelings and troubles is not something you should take pride in spreading. there is nothing to be proud of about sharing people's private socials, urls, and conversations. while i am not always able to keep my temper under wraps, and while i have had my fair share of petty moments, i, to the best of my ability, have always made sure that i don’t come across as intentionally cruel or mean, nor have i purposely broken someone’s trust. sometimes i have retaliated back a bit fiercely, but i stand by the fact that i never purposely chased or drove anyone off, mocked or belittled them, or sent people over to dislike/hate them. i have at times vented to those who i believe are people i can trust, sure—but this is something we as people are all guilty of. there’s no way any of us can hold one person more accountable than others for partaking in closeted conversations that are never meant to get back to people and hurt them. 
i genuinely loved, and still love, writing very much, and i have always appreciated every ask, every reblog, and every comment. writing is a hobby i am greatly passionate about, and it’s always a hobby i was very excited to share with people on here because i don’t get to share it with people irl. i don’t willingly tell people irl that i enjoy making elaborate plots about anime characters, and i have always been very excited to share that hobby with you all, whether you are a reader or writer. i’ve read fanfiction for a very long time before i ever decided to try my hand at writing it, and i would never want to knock other people down simply because they “surpassed” me. i enjoy finding writers to read from, especially those who write better than me, because they are where i draw the most inspiration and motivation from. the moots i look up to most are moots who are in my opinion, far stronger writers than me, and moots who i always firmly believe deserve much more reach than i do on their stories because they’re far more fleshed out and in-depth than anything i can produce. and i am proud of them !! and even those of you who feel you are stuck not getting as much reach as you would hope, i am proud also of all of you for picking up a google doc or pen and writing and trying, whether you choose to share it or not. i will always strongly encourage you all to try your hand at writing if you have ever considered it because i have genuinely built such a better sense of self-esteem when being able to incorporate pieces of myself in my stories and express parts of who i am—i think some of you might really enjoy the catharsis that writing brings, and if you ever debate on trying it out, please do !! you might become really passionate about it. 
anyway, this post is abysmally long. none of it is to clear my name in hopes that i will be “un-canceled” (LOL) because i have decided saetoru is long overdue to be put to rest. i hope you can all, at the very least, allow other writers some peace and stop harassing them in their inboxes for knowing me (because that is also bullying and very ironic of you), and i hope you all got some sort of understanding of where i am coming from. if you think poorly of me, that’s okay. i have an opinion of myself, and the close people who surround me, that i am confident in, and while i may not have always handled things in the brightest of manners, i am well aware of what my intentions have always been. 
i’m deeply grateful to all 41k of you, and thank you for reading my works and allowing me to write for you !! thank you for all the very, very kind asks that i never got a chance to fully answer each one of, and thank you especially for all the supportive comments and love on the writing i’ve posted. they might be silly fics you read once and moved on from, but they’re all pieces of me, my life, and things that are important to me, and as cringe and cheesy as it sounds, it means quite literally everything to me when people read them and take away something from them. 
also, as a parting gift, i will be posting the nerd gojo, ex-convict geto, and a marriage rb! gojo fic to my ao3 (also saetoru) for those of you who have been patiently awaiting those wips to enjoy. please (a little more patiently) keep your eyes peeled for those <3 i will no longer be posting or active on saetoru, and in the event that i keep writing, it will be posted on my ao3, so you all will know where to find me !!
so for the last time, i love you my little runts !! wishing you all the best, and goodbye to my lil saetoru bestees. 
mwah !!
— tee <3
ps. i also have turned off reblogs for this post and limited replies to people i follow only. a lot of you will jump to say that it’s simply because i am “hiding,” but it is solely because i have said my piece and i intend to move on. thank you and have a lovely day shawtee ✌🏽
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onyourowndaisymae · 6 months ago
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𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒛𝒂 - 𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒆 𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏
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☆☆ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 & 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 ☆☆
hi again :) i'm joining other lovely fanfic writers with @ficsforgaza to help raise money for the folks in need in palestine. i'm proud to be banding together with the community on tumblr to help palestinians during this horrible time.
to participate, make a donation to a vetted fundraiser found on @ficsforgaza's page (aka, don't send me any money lol) and send me a screenshot (with your personal information removed) along with what you'd like to request to my ask box. please do not "double dip" aka use the same donation for several writers-- this is a fundraiser, after all! here is what a request looks like:
hello! can i sponsor your [INSERT FIC] fic? i donated $5 to gaza, here is the screenshot! thank you! [insert screenshot]
my pricing will be as follows:
★ sponsor-a-WIP: $1/100 words ★ drabbles: $2-3/100 words (elaborated below) ★ no money to contribute, but you want to support the cause? that's okay. sign a vetted petition from the @ficsforgaza page and send proof, and i'll add a sentence to a WIP of your choosing.
if you have any questions, feel free to take a look here on @ficsforgaza's page or reach out to me. be patient, i will work on these fics when i can. thank you so much for helping me raise money for a good cause ;)
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☆☆ 𝐖𝐈𝐏𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐫 ☆☆
★ pink pony club
on saturday nights, the lights at the fall dim as a performer takes stage. beauty, grace, taking the stage as music begins to trickle from the speakers for their performance. you're born naked, the rest is drag. how do the characters of obey me interact with this art form? are they a performer? an amateur? do they yearn for the spotlight or admire their own outfit from the shadows?
drag!au. bulleted fic/headcanons. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: one! sponsored word count: 0/500.
★ human!au x farming!au
a breeze travels through a small valley town. the spring is warm-- a perfect time for new beginnings. the moving truck pulls away from the small farm where you've been dropped off. this is your land now. to see it thrive, you must love and care for each inch. but first, you should probably introduce yourself to the local townspeople.
human!au and farming!au. heavily inspired by both harvest moon/stardew valley games and my mutual @misc-obeyme and their human!au. small paragraphs for each character. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: one! sponsored word count: 0/500.
★ obey me characters with earrings
accessories are a wonderful addition to any outfit. if the characters of obey me had their ears pierced, what sorts of earrings would they wear?
bulleted headcanons/fic. themes of x reader. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.
★ obey me demon brothers presenting you with a friendship bracelet in return
you presented the avatars of sin with a custom friendship bracelet to commemorate your growing bond. now, they're here to return the favor.
demon brothers x reader (platonic OR romantic, up to reader interpretation). revival of a long-dead series. bulleted fic. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.
★ the fall's private rooms (nsfw warning)
being a human in the devildom has left you with a certain... interest in demonkind and other fantastical creatures. but you're far too embarrassed to explore this fascination with anyone you know. the solution? an anonymous station set up in one of the fall's private rooms allowing you to fuck someone without knowing who they are, no strings attached. this set-up grows a bit more complicated, though, when word travels through the grapevine about the dirty things you're doing. the door closes to the room you're tucked away in, indicating someone is here to indulge you... but is that a familiar voice you hear on the other side of the wall?
nsfw. minors dni. obey me characters x reader smut. gloryhole dynamic. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: one! sponsored word count: 0/5000.
★ oc spotlight: introductions
the rules of the exchange program are simple: the celestial realm and the human realm both send three of their residents to the the devildom to experience hell's culture for an entire year. among the usual residents of purgatory hall, two new faces are seen wandering about. one, a straight-laced, fledgling sorcerer trying her best to explore the depths of the devildom's history and gain a grasp on her budding powers. the other, an angel born hard-of-hearing and further deafened by the celestial war with a penchant for beautiful artistic creations.
canon-divergent!au. x reader. introduction of two original characters. character profiles. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.
★ oc spotlight: vampire!au
vampirism is a strange affliction. it creates a recluse of the most social creature, driven from the sunlight and modern society into the shadows by bloodlust and misery. you are a human being who has recently become the source of blood for each of these two ancient vampires. how does your relationship with the evolve? do they grow to see you as more than a pet, or are you slaughtered for your insolence long before they remember your name?
vampire!au. ocs x reader (separate). full-length standalone fics. estimated length = unknown. characters completed: none. wc: 0. current sponsors: none.
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☆☆ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ☆☆
i'll be accepting drabble requests for the seven demon brothers and the dateables. drabbles are estimated to be ~500 words. they can be sfw/nsfw, tropes, fluff, etc. please specify what you'd like to see in this drabble, whether you only have a character in mind or a very specific scenario! (note: anon MUST be off for you to request nsfw, and you must be 18+).
since requests require a bit more work, i'll be pricing them at $2 per 100 words for sfw drabbles and $3 per 100 words for nsfw drabbles.
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do you want to support gaza and request fics for twisted wonderland? check out my other blog here
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orv-gotcha-for-gaza · 4 months ago
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ORV Gotcha for Gaza: CREATOR SIGNUPS OPEN!
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✨ CREATOR SIGNUPS OPEN NOW! Sign up here from July 1st - 14th.
Are you an ORV fanartist/writer? Would you like to draw/write to raise funds for Gaza? Join us in our fan-run charity event!
You can fill prompts from donors, to encourage more people to donate to verified Palestinian fundraisers. Everyone is welcome regardless of experience level (:
Please read our Carrd for the full event schedule, info, FAQ and more! Feel free to send us an ask/DM if you have any questions. Even if you can't participate, please spread the word, tell your friends/mutuals to sign up!
Read on to find out how it works!
HOW IT WORKS:
Donors donate to a verified Palestinian family's fundraiser directly.
Donors submit prompts of ORV art/fic they want to see.
Volunteer fanartists/writers fill prompts from donors to thank them for donating.
Full info in our Carrd!
(This event is inspired by the success of previous fandom fundraisers, such as @fengqingaction, @cdrama-action, @yuri-on-ice-action, @arcanefans4gaza, do check out the full list of fandom Gotcha for Gaza events! You can also check out other initiatives such as @ficsforgaza !)
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nyarumie · 3 months ago
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hii dropping by to say i love your works sm !! since you mentioned abt narumi requests, id like to make one :3
how aboutt narumi randomly feeling hungry during his game night and when he goes to find food he sees reader! so they end up making/getting food tgt all domestic and fluffy (if you’re cooking bro is definitely not thinking abt wifing u up uhhhh), feel free to create any setting you’d like for the scenario hihi
(also this might or might not be an excuse for me to ask u to become moots aha)
Food Impact! (Oneshot)
narumi gen x reader — pure fluff, more fluff, and even more fluff! sweet and gentle narumi, established relationship, the kitchen staff are eavesdropping on them, spoiler alert: they made a mess in the kitchen.
Author's Note: Readers, please search up the food name references I included here to get the entire picture of what they're trying to make <3
Author's Reply: hi, rye! I think we're already mutuals (at least, it's what my notif bar says? i know im already following u tho! i love your works too <3 it inspired me to write and post too, to be honest) thank you for this request i totally had fun writing it and helped me with my writer's block (⁠。⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠。⁠)⁠ノ id love to interact more too!
Cross-posted on ao3. Ask box is open, and masterlist can be found on my pinned. Have fun reading, everyone!
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The sight that greeted Hasegawa has an unusual factor.
Stacked yamazon boxes, check.
Littered cans and bottles, check.
Neglected blankets and pillows, check.
An unbothered Captain on his futon playing his BS5, gone.
Or maybe he's just being dramatic. Narumi is actually there, albeit not stuck in front of his huge ass TV for once. Rather, he's shockingly seated behind his office table, adorning a serious expression while giving his laptop an intense focus.
His Vice Captain is rendered speechless. Was he seeing things? The First Division’s Captain… is actually doing work?
��Hasegawa. What is it? I’m busy here.” he said, hands busy on his laptop.
Oh, he's been staring at him for the past 5 minutes, mouth agape. Regaining his composure, he stated his business. “Your presence is requested for an interview. I believe I sent you the notice first thing in the morning.” But is it right to be disturbing him when he’s finally working—a rarer than once in a blue moon occasion?
“Requested, not required. Don't care, won't care.”
“...Then I’ll ask her to do it in your stead.”
“Don't. She's helping me with my work.”
Sighing, Hasegawa turned around to leave, surprisingly not picking Narumi up like a helpless cat to make him attend the interview.
Once Narumi heard the door click, the corner of his lips turned up, unable to stop the smug, triumphant grin from forming. “Hah, too easy! I’m busy working alright, my ass is practically burning from sitting here all day!”
In truth, the laptop Narumi specifically requested when he was promoted as Captain is a gaming laptop. He had somehow convinced the higher ups that its specifications are far greater than anything most officers can handle and is fitting for his position as Captain. Not that they know what it really is, of course.
He has been playing Jenshin Ympact the moment his office shift started. You had practically begged him yesterday to grind for you, saying that you’ll handle his paperworks worth a week’s job as long as he gets your desired character and weapon. “Why won’t she just top-up on this game? We have all the money to get every single character. What a bummer.”
Not that he understands why you’re willing to shoulder his paperworks over playing a game. Nothing’s enjoyable about paperworks at all! But you complained that your back was hurting from grinding, and who was he to reject such a good offer? That means a grumpy Hasegawa would appear less on his doorstep.
Complaints can be heard from him as he speedruns a side quest, mumbling about how the NPCs are too helpless. “What the… why do most NPCs ask for food here? What kind of adventurer doesn’t bring any food with them?”
Karma seemed to have hit him, his stomach growling too loud for his liking.
Ignoring it, he continued, still insulting every single unimportant character here and there. “Boo. Shut up. Don't like you. Go away. I hope you get eaten by a slime—”
And an even angrier sound came from his stomach.
“Fine! I’ll grab something to eat.”
What he meant by grab something to eat, is grab you to get the both of you something to eat. He refuses to eat anything without you, finding it more enjoyable doing mundane things with you around. His stomach has been empty since morning, wanting to get an early start on his grind.
He sulkily made his way towards your own room, knowing that you've been just as cooped up as him in your respective offices.
Not bothering to knock, he calmly opened the door, instantly finding you still working on his paperworks, desk situated across your door.
His familiar presence caught your attention, eyes lighting up in joy at the sight of him. “Gen! What brings you here? Do you need anything?”
Without a word, he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, making you drop your pen in the process.
Confused, you tried calling him again. “Gen?”
“Mhm… heard you. Just come with me.”
“Alright.” You smiled, his uncharacteristically calm demeanor endearing you. He was often like this with you, as if your very existence is his source of peace.
A comfortable silence lingered as you let him lead you to his your destination. Halfway there, you finally recognized the route to the cafeteria.
‘Oh, he's just hungry.’ you thought. ‘But wouldn't he prefer instant meals or deliveries instead of going all the way here?’
But instead of going straight to the self-service counter, he turned and made his way to the kitchen instead. Wait, are you even allowed there? Sure, he's the Captain, but he's not a cook!
He finally let go of your wrist, unceremoniously opening the large door, earning shocked stares from the kitchen staff and making them pause their job.
You pulled at his sleeve. “Gen—”
“Is there an available cooking station here?” he asked.
The staff looked at each other, obviously baffled. “Uhm, Captain Narumi, sir; there is. But it's at the far end of the Kitchen…” a cook said, pointing towards the station.
“Good. We’ll be using it undisturbed.”
Gen continued making his way forward, with you holding the cuff of his sleeve to ease your nerves. You offered an apologetic look at every person you made eye contact with as you both made your way through. He still hasn't said anything as to why you're here of all places, confusing you further.
He came to an abrupt stop once you reached ‘your’ station. It's time to get to the bottom of this.
“Gen, did you say we'll be using this cooking station? Are we actually cooking?”
He faced you, his arms crossing. Suddenly, he looked a bit bashful. “Yeah. That's what I said.”
Raising your brow, you tried prying more information from him. “And what exactly are we gonna cook?”
“Ahem. So I saw this food while playing Jenshin Ympact…” He pulled out his phone, showing you a screenshot of the food.
Invigorating Kitty Meal.
Giggles threatened to spill from your lips. No wonder he wants to make it yourselves.
He swiped the photo to another screenshot. “And there's this other one. You love mushrooms, I thought you'd want something simple to eat.” Milky Mushroom Crisp Tower. How cute, he was also thinking of you!
“They look pretty fun and easy to make. However… Both of us don't know how to cook, Gen.” you frowned.
“But you just said it looks easy to make. There's two of us, that should be good enough, yeah?” he pouted.
Fondly, you sighed. He’s being too adorable right now, you just can't say no to him. “Alright, we’ll try. If it turns out good, you’ll marry me, won't you?” you joked.
He brightened up at this, pushing his hair back, determined to make his kitty meal. “Consider it done.”
After thoroughly examining the screenshots, you personally approached a few people stationed in the kitchen, asking them which ingredients would best suit your planned meal. With a couple of pieces of advice here and there, you and Gen started to put the plan in motion.
He passes you a rather large bowl full of rice, busying yourself with shaping it to form a cat, filling its inside with mayo tuna. He tasked himself with (trying) to cook the steak while watching the eggs boil, which you doubted at first, earning you a complain from him (‘Hey! You're on the same boat as I am; can't cook, can't question!’)
Cooking the steak is quite the task, so you decided to handle your mushroom toast yourself.
You poorly sliced up the mushroom and tossed it in a small pot filled with a cup of thick cream and easily melted cheese. Not hard at all!
You leave it be and checked on Gen, who you find struggling with not burning the steak. “Need help?”
“I’m fine! It's just that this is totally not beginner friendly, that's all!”
“...Gen, the eggs are overcooked.” A series of curses left his mouth as he hurriedly took them off the boiling water, and his nose scrunched up on the smell of something burning.
“Your mushroom! The heat is turned all the way up!” Now it was your turn to panic.
After a couple of errors from both your ends, it was safe to say that you've finally reached the final task of your newly found skill.
You were carefully carving some seaweed, cheese, and ham as the final touches to his rice kitty’s facial features. Gen was standing behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he watched your art, humming to himself. He seemed pleased despite the mess you both made.
“Let's cook again someday.” he said.
You snort, “Speaking too soon? You won't say that if this turns out bad.”
“Nahh. Not if I’ll marry you.”
You laugh, taking it as a joke. You feel him perch his head on your shoulder, face turning into a frown. “I wasn't joking! Here, have this.”
He took your hand, putting a seaweed ring on your finger. You giggled again, your heart can't take him sometimes. “I didn't mean to laugh at you. You're being too adorable today! Let's eat these right here before they spoil.”
He looked too sad to see the kitty get devoured, sulking despite how good it surprisingly tasted. And yours wasn't too bad either, glad that you were able to salvage whatever was left from the burnt mushroom sauce.
“ ‘M definitely gonna marry you someday.” he suddenly said.
Your head whipped towards him so fast, only to find him munching on his meal, face serious. “Food so good it got you saying that again?”
He shook his head. “Don't you want me as your husband?” he whined.
You felt your face flush, suddenly aware that he meant what he said. “Go put on a real ring on me first. Then I'll take you as my husband.” you teased.
Looking thoughtful, he hummed. “I can wait just fine. It arrives tomorrow.”
Wait. What?
“What arrives… tomorrow?”
“The ring.” he said, matter-of-factly.
You faced him fully, mouth wide open. He’s dropping this information way too casually!
Sensing your stare, he also turned to look at you, food still in hand. “What? If you're worried about the size, I got it covered.”
“You're crazy. When did you purchase it?”
“Hmm… a couple of weeks ago. When I heard you scolding Hasegawa for disturbing me, saying I needed rest for carrying No. 1’s eyes on a daily basis. No one dares to scold him like that! So I decided to promote you as my wife!” he proudly said.
You tug at the front of his clothes, pulling him closer. “I want to kiss you right now.”
He set his food down, placing his hands on your waist. His eyes seemed to sparkle with mirth. “Then, as the Captain of the First Division, I grant you special permission to kiss me.”
And with that, you closed the distance between you, feeling the both of you smile in your kiss.
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Bonus:
Unbeknownst to the both of you, the kitchen staff were eavesdropping the entire time. Who would’ve thought that this is how good their Captain's romantic life is?
You two were so absorbed in your own little bubble, failing to notice the suppressed squeal from a staff that was tasked to spy on you when you kissed. Seems like you forgot there were other people around you.
The staff went back to the others, meeting their expectant gazes. Wordlessly, they gestured their ring finger and acted out a kiss. It was comical, but the message was well-received nonetheless. It became an unspoken rule to keep what happened that night amongst themselves, wanting to respect your and the Captain's joyous moment.
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prettyb0ycvnt · 2 months ago
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hi freaks of tumblr . here's my introduction post teeheehee <3
my name is aiden ! i am an eighteen year old queer trans man - pre-op and pre-t unfortunately ... but whatever im still hot. giggles and twirls hair.
more about me :3
☆ freakiest virgin you've ever met. i'd like that to CHANGE but uhhghhh the most i can get is freaks on tumblr (hit me up lalalala)
☆ real life prince charming pupboy :3 !!!
☆ literally not an ounce of dominance inside me at ALL i'm very submissive!!!! to an insane extent!!!
☆ bottom.
☆ perpetually in heat actually. need that to be rectified
☆ bst timezone. british twink moving like Oh Good Heavens... Oh My... Good Grief...
☆ my asks are open all the time to anyone! dms are open for mutuals only (i'm totally open to conversation & sharing things with moots as long as ur respectful!!). i prefer getting asks; i'm bad with managing messages. also feel free to dm or ask me stuff if you just wanna be friends!!! blank blogs do not message me it weirds me out x
☆ i'm a writer! my posts may tend to get real descriptive if i'm not hornied-out beyond all comprehensive thought!!
☆ i am transgender and a lot of the stuff i post will focus on this :3 !!! my posts will reference fem biology but i'm not a girl don't call me one or i'll rip my hair out and die.
☆ im a queer man !! still fully figuring out where my attraction lies but i do know i have a very heavy male pref. please don't repost my stuff if you're a cishet blogger or a 'men dni' blog im literally a. man and i love men and i talk about loving men and im the antithesis of everything u stand for . all queer freaks (including. wlw!!!) can do whatever they want with my posts :3
☆ some of my non-freakish interests include acting, literature, writing, baking, reading and certain fandoms that i don't want to explicitly reference in case this post appears to them uhm feel free to ask me about them!!!
claimed anons: 😵💫 ; 👾 ; 🪰; 🍁 ; ⚒ ; 🍓 ; 🐈‍⬛ ; 🎈
dni: minors, MAPs, bigots of any kind, trans fetishisers, ed & sh blogs, ageless blogs, weirdo freaks of the bad kind!!
tags
#☆ aiden's corner -> silly thoughts of mine!! sometimes they r Slightly lesser hornyposting... sometimes they're just funny things ithink of. sometimes its just me talking about whateva welcum to aiden's corner !!
#☆ aiden's freakish thoughts -> hornyposting to the maxxxx.... under this tag im a FREAAKKK
#☆ aiden's pics -> me lawl. usually just tummy :3
#☆ aiden's audio -> aiden whines like a bitch
#☆ reblogs -> stuff i find relatable or stuff i find super duper hot . perhaps both at the same time!!
#☆ anon -> answering anonymous asks!
#☆ asks -> when used alone, answering non-anon asks! also used in conjunction with #☆ anon :3
me if u even care
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okay thats all i can think of rn ummm anyway. stuff i'm into & limits under the cut :3
i looove >_< !!!
praise, degradation, breeding, petplay, major voice kink!, exhibitionism, voyeurism, humiliation, objectification, free-use, cockwarming, royalty, dumbification, somnophilia, forcemasc and ummm probably more you should totes talk to me so we can find out!
limits >:[ !!!
detrans/misgendering, forced feminisation, scat, bestiality, watersports, blood, basically any bodily fluids that aren't cum or spit, intox related to alcohol specifically, anything to do with feet, feederism, weight gain/weight loss, incest/fauxcest, ageplay, rape, daddy/mommy, pregnancy, basically everything else that's super fucking weird and unethical. -> if you're into these things that's totally fine!! i'd just prefer they're not brought up in regards to myself ^_^
bodily terms for myself :3
not on t nor have i had surgery so i still very much have female parts and im fine with them being referred to as such!!! acceptable terms include cunt, pussy/boypussy, slit, hole, clit, chest, tits, (t-)cock& (t-)dick !! all i ask is that the term vagina is not used.
things i like being called >_<
please refer to me with masculine or neutral terms, nothing feminine. degrading terms like whore, bitch, slut and any other varieties (cumslut, etc.) are 100% okay! in fact please call me them!! praising terms like good boy are wooonderful. call me puppy/pup and ill explode and die (in a good way!!!) tbh literally call me anything as long as its not feminine and i'll love it. lalalalaa
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djarins-cyare · 2 months ago
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WIP Weekend
It’s been a while since I’ve made progress on any of my fics, but I’m trying my best to write something for Kate’s Roll-A-Trope Challenge, so I finally have something I can share a snippet of 🥳
Over the last 14 weeks, I’ve been tagged in 19 WIP Wednesday posts / Last Line games / WIP polls (yes, I keep track!), so thank you to the following lovely people for continuing to think of me even though I’ve been suspiciously quiet 💚:
@burntheedges @nerdieforpedro @604to647 @the-mandawhor1an
@kyberblade @almostfoxglove @for-a-longlongtime @djarins-wife
May I offer you some (totally unedited and marginally redacted) pre-spice Din and f!Reader in the trope genre of secret relationship below the cut…
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Swallowing, you blink innocently and ask, “Is there anything else you need before I turn in?” You’re not particularly tired, but you should let him get some rest. Slowly, the angle of Mando’s helmet drops a few centimetres, and he releases a vibrant hum. The few seconds of silence that follow feel charged somehow, full of expectation, and just as you realise where he’s relocated his gaze to, he rumbles a reply in the lowest, sexiest register you’ve heard from him this evening. “So far, you’ve known exactly what I’ve needed without me having to ask.” He leaves another pregnant pause as he slowly tilts his helmet. “So go on, tell me. What do I need now?” Your eyes inadvertently dart to his crotch again and… shit. You’re pretty sure something’s happening down there. It looks… harder… larger (if that’s even possible). “You, uh….” Your attempt at an answer doesn’t go anywhere, mainly because you don’t know what to say. You want this, sure, but you shouldn’t. He’s injured, and you promised your uncle you’d keep your distance, not jump into an intimate act with the guy the first chance you get. After a few deep and shuddering breaths, you manage, “You need a good night’s sleep.” “I do,” he agrees. “But your question was whether I need anything else before you go to bed. Sleep comes after you go. What comes before?” Fuck. His words vibrate through you and seem to disintegrate your misgivings. There’s no logical decision to answer the way you do; it just happens. “You… if you want.” A pleased hum resonates through the vocoder. “I do,” he agrees again. “The bacta took away the pain, but I could use some pleasure too. If you’re willing.” “Y-yes,” you blurt, halfway between eager and anxious. “But… my uncle will kill me if he finds out.” Mando chuckles. “He’d shoot me first. Our secret, then?” Your pussy dampens at the idea, eyes flashing as you nod your acceptance of his clandestine terms. Suddenly, a secret liaison with the apparently dangerous man you’re supposed to be avoiding for your own good sounds like the most desirable thing in the galaxy.
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Yeah, you know me… I can’t just write a single scene; I have to write the whole damn relationship!
So, obviously, this is how their secret relationship gets off the ground. You may have gathered that Reader is a certain High Magistrate’s niece and has been given strict instructions to avoid the new resident of the cabin out on the lava flats. You can look forward to plenty of sneaking around, flimsy excuses, near misses, and suspicious confrontations. Oh, and smut 😏
I can’t believe I only have a month left to write all this. What have I signed up for? I’m so fucked…
*Hates self for not being able to write short stories* /jk
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I’m clearly over-excited about finally having something for a WIP post, so I’m going wild and tagging a load of writer mutuals and favourites. Feel free to do any form of WIP post you choose, or ignore me entirely if you’re not up for posting snippets right now (either way, you’re all awesome) 💚
@5oh5 @abbonation @always-andromeda @captainredspade @court-jobi
@davnittbraes @din-cognito @dindjarindiaries @djarinmuse @drewharrisonwriter
@dumfanting @eatommo @evolnoomym @fhatbhabiee @fromthedeskoftheraven
@fuckyeahdindjarin @galaxyedging @grogusmum @happy-beeeps @iamsherlocked-1998
@insomniamamma @ishabull @itsjuststardust @joelalorian @jolapeno
@lady-bess @lahooozaherr @larkoneironaut @littlemisspascal @magpiepills
@morallyinept @mothandpidgeon @newpathwrites @oonajaeadira @penvisions
@prolix-yuy @quicksilvermad @saradika @secretelephanttattoo @sixhours
@sp00kymulderr @studioghibelli @syd-djarin @the-blind-assassin-12 @theetherealbloom
@wannab-urs @whocaresstillthelouvre @whxtedreams @wrathkitty @yopossum
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hwashua-luv · 20 days ago
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Sweet Encounters
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Walking down the pavement—the gentle hum of city life around you, the long shadows of the late-afternoon sun sprawling over the ground. Just an ordinary day, with the same tired routines and duties in store. Little did you know, today would bring a surprise that would turn the whole course of your day upside down.
That was a few months ago when you first met Choi Seungcheol. This time, it was purely incidental; he had bumped into you at an art gallery in front of the very same painting. He was quite the smooth talker, breaking the ice by striking up a conversation, and you were easily pulled in by his effortless grace and interest in your thoughts. What began as light, ephemeral pleasantries turned into a slew of texts and sporadic meetups.
At best, your relationship with him was unconventional. Seungcheol was a millionaire businessman with a reputation for being charismatic and mysterious; you were an aspiring writer trying to make a name in a world that often felt indifferent. Although he was far above your station, Seungcheol had offered you financial support; it was an act starting in its frankness. He insisted on referring to it as a mutual arrangement, a way in which you could end up with a little bit of free time to write with less continuous level stress of not having enough money.
Today you met with him again for yet another of your regular catch-ups. The evening was warm, and you dressed simple, yet elegant: a perfect choice for the occasion. You had always loved moments like that with him; he provided comfort to your soul by his side and in his conversation.
You reached the upscale café where you decided to meet Seungcheol, and seated at one edge, you found him, incredibly stylish in his made-to-measure suit. His eyes lit up as yours met his, and he quickly rose from his seat. The friendly smile was just right.
"Hey," you answered, trying to cool down the enthusiasm and nervousness that had crept into your voice. "Sorry I'm a bit late."
"Not at all," he said suavely, drawing out a chair for you. "You look lovely, as always."
You sat down, your heart fluttering at the compliment. "Thank you. How was your day?"
"Busy, but good," he answered, eyeing the menu. "I've been looking forward to this all day. It's nice to have a break from the usual routine."
The waiter came around and took your drink orders, and you soon fell into an easy rhythm of conversation. Seungcheol talked animatedly about his new business venture to which you spoke a little about how you wrote and some of the difficulties you ran into.
The conversation was so easy; you just couldn't help feeling that you were meant to be with him. The class and money barriers didn't seem to count in each other's presence. It was just two human beings who understand each other, share interests, and respect each other.
After some time, he came back with your drinks and a small plate of pastries. Taking a sip out of your coffee, feeling the rich taste melting inside, you took a moment to relax.
"So," Seungcheol said, the soft look in his eye directed at you. "I've been meaning to ask. How are you feeling about your writing lately? Are you making any progress?
You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of relief and hesitation. "Actually, yeah. I have been struggling a bit. There's this one story that's just been giving me a hard time. I mean, I keep rewriting the same scenes over and over again."
Seungcheol leaned forward, attentive. "Writer's block, huh? I know that can be tough. Sometimes it helps to step away from it for a while and gain a new perspective."
You nodded, feeling he understood you. "That's what I've been trying to do. Maybe some distance will clear things up."
Reaching the length of the table, he picked up your hand with such warm, gentle hands that a nice shiver ran up your arm. "You're really good, and I know you're going to totally ace this. If there's anything I can do to make it easier for you, just say the word."
It was the sincerity in his voice that swelled your heart. You looked into his eyes, and you could see they held real concern and encouragement for you. It was in these little moments that you realized just how special the connection you shared with Seungcheol truly was.
As the night dragged on, you noticed that you became looser and less rigid. The topic of their conversation grew more light-hearted and filled with laughter and banter. Then the sun began to set, giving a golden hue to the outdoor café setting.
Finally, the conversation quietened down, and there it was: that comfortable silence between the two of you. You gazed on Seungcheol, who watched you with another thoughtful expression.
"I'm really glad we met," he said softly. "You brought so much light into my life."
You felt a flush hit your cheeks after hearing such words. "That's nice to say. You've been so kind and supportive. I really don't know where else I would be otherwise."
His eyes locked with yours, and for one full moment, everything else seemed to blend out of focus. There was a level of understanding between you that spoke for a connection so deep, one that had cultivated over the months.
His eyes never strayed from yours as Seungcheol began to move closer, inch by inch. His hand still rested against yours as your breath hitched in your throat, your mind grasping exactly what was happening next. You felt mixed emotions, part excited, part nervous.
His lips brushed against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The sensation was tender and full of emotion; it could not be more perfect, a real reflection of the bond between you both. Your bond is deepening now, and with each touch, your heart begins racing as you melt into this moment.When he pulled away, the both of you were panting, your eyes locked in what seemed like mutual understanding. The kiss was more than a physical action. It was like the seal on the pent-up feelings building between you.
His smile was tender, relieved. "I've wanted to do that for a while now.".
You couldn't help but smile back, and contentment rushed. "I'm glad you did."
The rest of the night was basically a blur of happiness. You walked around a park located a few blocks from the coffee shop. The two of you talked and laughed as the stars began to appear above. It was a perfect ending to a day that started off somewhat ordinary but turned out to be really memorable.
"It's a deal," Seungcheol shook your hand the last time while saying goodbye, the slow, light squeeze meaningful.
"I'll see you soon."
You nodded; you were getting too thrilled and happy. "I can't wait."
He left your side with a final smile and a lingering look, and you walked away, with each step you took away from him you felt everything swell with the promise of a future bright and hopeful, more than it ever was.
That sweet encounter with Choi Seungcheol made you realize that sometimes life surprises you. You just found something extraordinary in the middle of your routine—some honest connection reeling out from societal bounds to touch your heart in ways unimaginable.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿
Word count: 1217
Author's note: This is my first time publishing my work so please let me know if I have spelling or grammar mistakes. The same book has been posted on Quotev and Wattpad (hwashua-luv). Each oneshot will be posted on Instagram (hwashua._.luv1708). Requests are also open <3
All rights reserved. © 2024 hwashua-luv
All works written by me do not copy, translate or repost my works without my given consent.
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pastafossa · 2 months ago
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🌊TUNA-TOBER🌊 PROMPT CHALLENGE 2024 🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟
Hello friends! So last month I realized that one of the reasons I'm struggling to get my writing back up to my old speed is I am seriously out of practice since Dec/Jan when shit went down and I stopped writing for a while. After some thought, I decided I was gonna set up a little prompt challenge for myself, just a general, 'here's a prompt a day' thing for about a month. And I tossed this idea out onto my fave Daredevil discord server to see if anyone would want to join. And I'm happy to say there were takers, including some of my favorite writers in the fandom! So I've set up a delicious prompt challenge for all of us, and for anyone else who wants to take part.
For each day in October, there are three prompts: an 🌧️angst/whump prompt🌧️, a 🌻fluff prompt🌻, and a 🔥kink prompt🔥. Participants are free to choose which one of the prompts they want to write or make art of, or they can try to incorporate two, or even all three prompts into a single fic or art piece. They can write a short fic/make art every day, or just on whichever days they feel like (personally I'm going to shoot for one fic a day, but we'll see), or even incorporate those prompts into the chapters of longer fics. There are also four 'backup' prompt options for each category in case anyone hits a day or prompt where they aren't really feeling what's available on the chosen day. If any of these prompts inspire you, you can feel free to take on the Tuna-Tober challenge even if you're not in the server! This challenge is also not fandom-specific (although I have a feeling I'm mostly gonna write Charlie Cox characters, a surprise to precisely zero people, but again, we'll see).
Sometime this week, I'll be setting up a sideblog specifically for Tuna-Tober. That sideblog blog will reblog any Tuna-Tober fics/art or link to those fics that are posted on Ao3 so they'll all be easy to find. That blog will also have instructions for how to tag your Tuna-Tober fics and/or art pieces. If you'd like to be notified when that sideblog is up so you can follow it, let me know in the comments.
Without further ado: our Tuna-Tober prompts!
🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟
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Day 1: Falling Asleep In A Hospital Room ⚜ Reading To Each Other ⚜ Somnophilia
Day 2: “Why? Why do you love me?” ⚜ Flower Crowns ⚜ Mutual Masturbation
Day 3: Broken ⚜ “I feel real when i’m with you.” ⚜ Role Reversal
Day 4: “This isn’t you.” ⚜ “Are you blushing?” ⚜ Sixty-Nine
Day 5: Self-Loathing ⚜ Watergun Fight ⚜ Begging
Day 6: "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here." ⚜ Love Bites ⚜ “Spread your legs for me.”
Day 7: Nightmare ⚜ Honest Apology ⚜ Nothing Underneath
Day 8: Shaking ⚜ “You can sleep here tonight.” ⚜ Overstimulation
Day 9: Anxiety ⚜ “You don’t need to do that.” “I want to.” ⚜ “Open your mouth.”
Day 10: "I'm not good enough." ⚜ A Hug That Lasts A Little Too Long ⚜ Strap-on/Pegging
Day 11: Tears ⚜ “I’d be lost without you.” ⚜ Breast Worship
Day 12: "I did it for you.” ⚜ “You remembered?” ⚜ Deep-Throating
Day 13: Loneliness ⚜ Playful Kiss ⚜ “Beg me for it.”
Day 14: "Please look at me." ⚜ Sleep Talking ⚜ Accidental Stimulation
Day 15: Hiding An Injury ⚜ “Are you jealous?” ⚜ Threesome
Day 16: Exhaustion ⚜ Accidental Kiss ⚜ Against A Window
Day 17: "I'm not leaving you." ⚜ Tickling ⚜ “Touch yourself for me.”
Day 18: Scars ⚜ Pillow Fort ⚜ “I’m so proud of you, you’re taking me so well.”
Day 19: Touch starved ⚜ “I’ll always be there for you.” ⚜ Gags
Day 20: "Who did this to you?" ⚜ There Was Only One Bed ⚜ “You were made for me, weren’t you?”
Day 21: Fainting/Collapsing ⚜ Flustered ⚜ “Was that an order?”
Day 22: "You haven't done anything wrong." ⚜ Breathless Kiss ⚜ Aphrodisiacs
Day 23: Father ⚜ “If you won’t take care of yourself, I will.” ⚜ Toys
Day 24: Drugged ⚜ Drunken Confession ⚜ “Shh, do you want them to hear us?”
Day 25: "What's Wrong?" ⚜ Playing With Their Hair ⚜ “Did I say you could do that?”
Day 26: "You're not fine." ⚜ “Shut up and kiss me.” ⚜ Under The Desk
Day 27: Near Death Experience ⚜ Overheard Confession ⚜ “Let me see what that pretty mouth can do.”
Day 28: Chronic Pain ⚜ Sharing An Umbrella ⚜ Hair Pulling
Day 29: "Talk to me, please." ⚜ Forehead Kiss ⚜ Restraints
Day 30: Healing ⚜ Road Trip ⚜ “Take it off. Slowly.”
Day 31: "Why wasn't I enough?" ⚜ Blanket Hog ⚜ Stockings/Thigh Highs
🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟
🌊Tuna-Tober🌊 Backup Prompts:
Bound/Chained ⚜ Moving In Together ⚜ Almost Getting Caught
"Take me instead." ⚜ “I’m in love with you, and that scares me.” ⚜ High Heels
Insomnia ⚜ Adopting A Pet ⚜ Scent Marking
"You're not alone." ⚜ Playing A Game Together ⚜ Ass Worship
🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟
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eveningepiphany · 1 year ago
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welcome to the final show | H.S, part 3
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my masterlist!
part one and part two!
summary: harry goes over to y/ns hotel for a good old room service dinner, also getting a little tipsy on wine, while starting to blur some lines. and it’s not long before things are no longer just between the two of them.
warnings: fluff, swearing, alcohol, getting a lil wine drunk, paparazzi, being confused on if you’re falling in love or just really good friends.
a/n: i’m so excited to finally have this written for you all! i’ve had some pretty bad writers block, hence the delay in getting it to you, but thank you so much again for your support and I hope you enjoy <3
———
There’s a certain type of attatchment that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.
It’s when things start to flourish. Maybe with a hobby, a passion, or a new found person. One your brain decides to put all its focus and interest on, to the point it’s all consuming.
This one gets stuck to you like glue. Hard to shake in the sense of no matter how hard you try to ignore it, it’s all you can think about.
Losing yourself in daydreams of something or someone without even realising, until you’re reaching for anything that will bring you closer to filling that need.
That’s exactly what’s leading you to be reaching for your phone at any given point of the day.
You imagine many perceive it to be a permanent growth on your person. But you can hardly help it. Texting is a simple way to reach someone. Feel connected.
So, safe to say you’ve messaged Harry more than your own family over the course of this trip.
You’ve become attached. To Harry Styles. Again…?
Of course, being a huge fan it’s easy to say you should probably already be accustomed to this, given your level of obsession.
But this is a whole other ball game. One that is becoming like an internal battle. Your already unhealthy and predisposed infatuation paired with now a real physical connection is enough to render you useless.
You reach for your phone. Text him, your brain begs. You consider. No, stop being clingy you loser, your brain rolls her metaphorical eyes. You place the phone down. Stare at a wall. Think about him. Rinse, repeat.
Not normal, you don’t think.
However, you search for some kind of justification. That you’re just good friends, and all that shit. It’s normal to miss someone you’re friends with.
If he considers you as that.
Which you would hope since you’ve been texting him enough it would be concerning if he saw you as just some mutual of his.
You’re also sitting in a cafe, unfortunately without him right now. Eating a croissant wishing that he were here. Allowing your gaze to linger on the chair across from yourself, imagining his solid frame filling up the empty space. What he would do if you stood up and ran a hand through his hair, maybe lent down a little so you could just—
The ring of the bell atop their entrance chimes and drags you out if your dangerous and spiralling thoughts. And for some reason get excited like you’ve somehow manifested this man to walk through the cafe door by thinking of him.
Feeling silly at the nag of disappointment in your stomach as you see an ordinary bloke saunter over to the till.
Maybe one you would check out, or emit some kind of interest in before you properly met Harry. You would feel disloyal now. Like the parasocial relationship has entered an entirely new level of psychotic.
If it’s still parasocial, that is. Or if now you’re just simply a girl with very cloudy and mixed feelings about a very beautiful man.
You audibly sigh out. Eating the final bite of your admittedly delicious croissant and picking up your phone.
You type out a message, sending it before you can even think it.
I’m in a cafe right now without you and you’ve honestly ruined them for me. I miss you and your free cups of tea.
Without me? Rude.
You laugh at his quip, watching as the little bubble pops back up indicating he’s typing.
I’m out right now, but if you’re not busy later we can do something? Go out or I can come over to yours.
You pluck mindlessly at your bottom lip with your teeth, how could you say no to that?
You stress over it either way.
well, you’re very welcome to come over to my hotel room. we can order room service if you want?
To this he texts back an agreement, seemingly keen. And you realise immediately you have to tidy your room before he comes over.
You swing him the location of where you’re staying, including your room and floor number.
Thank you love, ill be there in like 3 hours say? If that works for you.
At that, you stand, because who are you if not over-prepared. And it was time to go make sure your room didn’t like a war had been waged in it when he came over for the first time.
Cant be having a bad impression, you figured.
———
You did in fact rush back to your hotel complex. Not even stopping a crepe stall you passed by, which had to be a first for you. You clean the place until it appears well-kept at the least.
And once you’re finished, you easily fall back into overthinking the whole thing. So excited, yet getting those anxious jitters like a caffeine addict 12 hours no coffee.
Which is why you decide to busy yourself with an afternoon shower. And at the time you’d still had over an hour to go.
You take of course longer than you intended, and shortly after you come out there’s a knock at your door, easily making you jump as you tug a shirt over your head. Regretting the last minute decision for a shower since now you have wet hair and probably look like a right mess.
But it’s not like you can leave him out there while you go blow dry your hair, so you rush over to the door, and tug it open.
His brows shoot up, and a smile slowly blooms on his face as he takes in your appearance.
Your hair is still near dripping, and you stand in bike shorts and a loose tshirt. The most casual he’s ever seen you. Which he loved the look on you more than he admits to himself.
“Hi darling,” he smirks, a warm feeling settling over him as he keeps his eyes on you.
“Hey, Harry.” You stand for a few moments longer, finally shuflling out of his way to let him through the door. He is adorning a white shirt and has the cutest little bandana around his neck.
“I’m sorry,” You laugh, gesturing him inside, “I was drastically overestimating how long it would take me to shower… hence why im in this state.”
He pulls a hand from behind his back, a cup being presented to you.
“Don’t be silly, y’not in a state at all.”
“You’re joking—“ You gently take the cup from his ringed hands, “Harry!”
“M’sorry, m’sorry. I saw a coffee van on the way and I couldn’t help myself.”
“Did you get one for you?”
“No, but I did have a little sip of yours.” He confesses with a quiet laugh. But he quickly busies himself with your room, padding around and peeking out the balcony window.
You take a sip, watching him examine your space. Grateful you cleaned it.
He asks you a few questions about random things in your room, and you settle yourself on the foot of your bed, cross-legged.
You didn’t really think about the lack of seating in your one man room. But this hardly bothers Harry, since he’s scoped up the room service menu from wherever he found it, and sat next to you.
“Alright… what d’we have.” He talks to himself, opening up the menu and scanning over the foods.
You discuss the options, settling on a pizza and pasta to share, because, well, you’re in Italy.
The night progresses easily as time always seems to do when you’re together, and you fake fight over the best kind of pasta sauce. But he lets you have to last slice of pizza so peace is made shortly after.
“Should we order a wine or something? T’wash the pasta down.” He suggests as the sun begins setting.
“Why not, I won’t say no to some wine.”
That gets ordered to your door, and you go from the foot of the bed to lazing at the head of it. Sipping on wine and recounting old stories, or discussing stupid topics.
“Do you think the chicken or the egg came first?” You swirl your glass around, eyes shifting to look at his side profile as he gazes at your roof.
His cute nose outlined by the warm light off the lamp, which you flicked on in the corner after it got dark.
He bursts out into a laugh, “what kind of question is that?”
“I feel like it indicates the sort of person someone is.” You shrug, smiling.
“What like it gives you an intel on my personality?”
“Something like that.” You nod, “and decides if we have to stop being friends, if you answer the wrong one.”
He grins, “Well, maybe tell me which one to pick so we don’t have to do that.”
“Awh, so you don’t want to stop being friends?” You coo, still staring at him, watching as his eyes flick from the roof over to you.
“Of course not, who else am I meant to go on cafe dates with.” He laughs.
You’re both teetering on the edge of being tipsy, and it’s evident in the way you’re both talking to one another. Borderline flirting, probably a more fitting way to describe it.
“True, because I’d be very hard to replace.” You snort with sarcasm, taking the another sip of wine.
“You would be! I love our little dates.” He smiles, the second time he’s dropped the word date in the last minute.
You’ve scooted closer to one another somehow. Shoulder to shoulder as you steal glances of his beautiful face. Maybe this was subconscious, or on purpose. But you’re drawn to him like a magnet.
“So do I…” You flush.
“I’m a little tipsy.” You clarify, breaking the searing eye contact and looking at the near-empty glass in your hand. A fourth refill would easily tip you over the edge.
He lets out a quiet laugh, “Wine gone to y’head too?”
“Mhm, and I have a track record of poor decision making when I have too much of it.” You recall the plenty of times you did the stupidest shit just because you were wine drunk. Hoping that does not happen tonight.
“Might have to see it one day.”
“One day…” you agree, but you realise that you’re not really in Italy for much longer. You have about a week and a half left now.
“I… Harry,” you turn your body to face him, and he sits up a little, noticing the almost serious tone to your voice.
“I’m leaving soon.” You blurt it out, because it’s the only topic of conversation you’ve both been steering clear of. The thing neither of you want to address because eventually this won’t be easy to do. Who knows how many miles could get out between you.
And it almost hurts you to admit yourself because… where exactly does that leave you both?
Does your contact end when you leave Italy? Do you become people who occasionally text on a bi-monthly basis?
He draws a breath, “So am I.”
You let out your own tortured sigh, turning to pop your glass on the beside table and then lean your head onto his shoulder.
Your heart jumps at the contact, and somewhere in your brain, sober Y/N lets out a gasp, because she would never have the balls to do that.
So the wine maybe was a great idea…?
He wraps an arm around your back, “I go back to London after this.”
“Second week of August as well?” You pray it’s not earlier than the start of the month, since tomorrow is literally the 1st.
“Yea, the 13th.” He nods and it’s the only tiny shred of relief you’re getting from all this. That there’s still time left.
“I fly out on the 12th.” You say quietly.
But there’s a small silence that consumes you both for the first time since you met. Because you’re kind of exasperated for options right now. What do you say to someone who is going to inevitably slip from your grip.
You shake your head at nothing in particular, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, since words really weren’t going to cut it.
Somewhere in his muddled brain he notes this is the second time you’ve ever initiated a hug. And he leans into it, the arm he had around your back tugging you infinitely closer.
Your cheek is pressed to his neck, and you swear you feel his lips ghosting over the top of your head.
Slowly, you pull back. And he watches you with sharp green eyes. You hold that gaze, until he’s the one that breaks it. Stifling a groan with his hand, covering his face.
You look at him quizzically.
“I like this more than I probably should.” He gestures now between the two of you.
You chuckle, a tiny flutter in your stomach announcing it’s presence.
“So we’re making the most of the time left in Italy, then?” You put forward, ready to nearly wipe your schedule clean for the man.
Which, who could blame you?
“What are y’doing tomorrow?”
“Nothing, if you’re the one asking.” You laugh, and he smiles wide at your comment.
“Oh, is that so darling?”
You roll your eyes in attempt to be convincing, “of course, you always buy me tea so…”
“Well, that decides we’re going to another cafe I suppose.” His hand reaches for his phone strewn on the quilt somewhere, pulling up google maps to find some nearby cafes.
You perch your head back onto his shoulder to watch him scroll through the options. He stumbles on a beautiful looking one, less than a 10 minute walk away. He looks to see if you approve.
He peers down to where you rest on his frame, smiling unwillingly at the sight of you. Your own eyes trailing up to meet his.
And he swears they linger on his lips. Just for a fraction of a second.
“Mh, what d’ya think.” He gets out, voice suddenly several octaves lower. Almost gravelly.
You almost audibly gulp at the sound of him. Hyperaware of his existence right now, you could nearly zone out thinking about the strength of his arm muscle that’s right now pressed against you.
“Yea… yea that looks amazing. And tomorrow, what time?” Your hands fiddle with themselves in your lap.
“How about 1, since you’re probably gonna wanna sleep in a bit.” He suggests, free hand pushing his curls from his eyes.
The way he knows you’re probably going to want to sleep in. God.
“I’m down.” (Bad)
A smile erupts over your face, and you almost forget that the clock is still ticking. That you only have so long left here.
Which ‘almost forgetting’ isn’t enough to stifle the urge to use it as some kind of yolo shit. Because that is unbelievably strong. Like why not just invite him to stay the night?
Maybe another glass of wine and you can gaslight yourself into cuddling him and just falling asleep. He wouldnt leave unless he had to, so it’s an almost flawless plan.
———
The plan infact, was flawless.
To say the least, he slept at yours. In your bed.
I mean you don’t really remember it, since you talked into the early hours of the morning and drank some more alcohol to really top it all off.
You woke up under the covers, still clutching onto Harrys side.
He was already awake, scrolling on his phone, seemingly unbothered by the fact your head had taken residency on his chest.
You take the initiative to glance at the time in the upper-right corner of his phone, a little shocked when it reads 11:47am.
You do groan at the morning light streaming in the windows immediately after seeing the time though.
“G’morning. D’ya have a headache?” He asks with what you can only assume is the end of his morning voice. Which although just a taste, is enough to send you spiralling.
It’s also around now you realise he’s stripped down into boxers— still clad in his white shirt. What the fuck!
You struggle to form a coherent response.
“Morning. A little.” Your voice comes out as a hum.
Somehow, considering you’re cuddling him right now and you literally just slept in the same bed all night, both of you outwardly are quite relaxed about it.
Nothing is awkward. It feels lovely.
“I want a croissant so bad.” You huff, sitting up, stomach growling like as if you hadn’t eaten in a whole 24 hours.
“So, you’re the kind of person that’s hungry immediately after they wake up?” He laughs, hand coming to push the locks of your bed hair out of your face.
Outside of the sheer domesticity of that (which makes you literally have heart palpitations), your hair is a proper train wreck.
The humidity in Italy has made it horrific.
“I guess I am right now?” You reply to his previous ask, combing your fingers through the locks.
“Jesus Christ.” You curse at its uncooperativeness.
“Y’know that episode of friends where Monica complains about how the humidity fucks her hair, she was so right.”
“I love friends.” He immediately gasps, nearly jolting upright in excitement.
You laugh at his enthusiastic reaction, noting that you have to somehow find time over the next week to watch an episode or two with him.
“And if it’s any consolation, I think your hair looks great.”
“Yea well, it’s not like you’d really be able to relate to the frizzy hair. Since yours look so perfect all the time.” You joke.
This evokes a genuine flush on his face, “Alright, Y/N, calm it down.”
He’s laughing but you swear he actually looks a little flustered. Without the wine as a confidence booster, he seemed like suddenly he didn’t know how to take a compliment.
Unbelievable to you since he probably gets that many a day from strangers on the street.
“I, am going to get up and get ready then, so we can go out and eat.” You state, excited to be seemingly spending the majority of the day with him.
He holds back the urge to beg you to stay in bed with him, and says something nonchalant as if he doesn’t mind you getting up. But when you pad off to the bathroom he stares at your now empty space. And immediately shivers at the lack of your body warmth, despite the already warm humid weather.
After a few trips in and out of the bathroom you come out looking beautiful. And he has to get himself up and ready to go in attempt to not overthink it.
You craved his closeness the whole time it took you to prepare for the day. Every few minutes you’d get this almost overpowering urge to just go out there and throw yourself back into his arms.
It’s borderline pathetic. But now you’ve had him in your bed, his strong arms coddled around you, it’s very hard to not to be just that. His physical presence is perfect and comforting. You’re attached to that as much as any other aspect of him.
He puts on his pants, which were folded neatly on his own bedside table, plucking out the car keys in his pocket, “Im gonna nick down to my rental car, because I have an extra button up in there, so I’ll wear that out.”
He comes back and changes into said white button up, stripping his worn shirt off and leaving it somewhere.
Just like that, you’re ready to go, and you both decide to walk the short way there. It was too nice a morning to not.
The whole walk you’re chatting away as usual. But it’s paired with this newfound physical aspect. The way you so obviously want to be close it hurts.
Yet somehow you both act like it’s nothing. That the brushes of hands and shoulder as you’re in step beside each other is a simple coincidence.
And that when you get breakfast, the two croissants and shared cookie is just a friendly thing. In your head you’re even playing off the touching all throughout breakfast.
Which sounds dirty— but just the little conversational touches. Like a hand reaching out to touch a forearm in laughter, acting as if it adds something important to the moment being shared.
Or that somehow when you leave the cafe, with two takeaway cups of tea, the hands that end up interlinked softly between the two of you is just…
Well… who even knows anymore?
Because you’re walking through italy beside Harry— who is talking about his favourite kind of playground equipment, regardless of if he’s a near thirty year old man— all while holding your hand.
And to take a moment, because it’s important, his hands are everything they’re talked up to be. Littered with chunky rings and calloused fingertips from the years of guitar playing. Yet contrasted by his soft palms, which cups yours with this delicateness it almost brings a tear to your eye.
You also pray that your own hand isn’t sweating profusely in his grasp, because you wouldn’t put a clammy hand past yourself. The already humid weather paired with your anxiety surrounding this whole situation is quite literally the match made in hell.
Nothing about this can be passed off as casual to your brain anymore. You’re literally about to implode.
But you strive to hide it. So you solider on.
“I’m a seesaw girl okay. Hear me out—“
“No, I can totally see that!” He interjects, and you chuckle at his quick agreement to your statement.
“Right? They are so much fun. And even though I nearly took a tooth out playing on one when I was 7, I can still recognise they are superior.”
To that he laughs and bumps his shoulder into yours, “I mean I love that. I’m probably a swing person, I feel like no matter the age I will always be down for it.”
You can agree that a swing is a solid second favourite for you. And as you talk about that point with him, you don’t realise you’ve walked the whole ‘scenic’ route back to your hotel until you turn the corner and the entrance is around the corner ahead. And the way you went usually takes an extra 20 minutes.
It went so fast.
“Are you gonna head off or… come back up with me?” You ask gingerly, the hand not interlaced with his fiddling with the fabric of your clothing.
“Not sick of m’yet?”
“Never…” You shake your head, smiling as he gleams at your answer.
“M’flattered. The feelings mutual love,” he chuckles, “However I do have to go remind my family I’m alive. But it’ll only take about a day until they’re pleased for me to ditch them.”
Gently runs his thumb over your knuckles, whether it be subconsciously or not, “So tomorrow night ill come back over to yours for dinner if you y’want?”
You smile, a little sappy over the way he’s working a plan out like you’re both teenagers, “Yea, thats perfect, and we can try something else off the menu.”
“Maybe, if you want,” he begins carefully, “after that you can come over to where we’re staying. Meet my mum and sister. They’ll love you.”
Now you’re nearly bursting at the seems, “Oh, I would love that, H!”
“Okay, it’s a plan then.” He agrees, pulling his keys from his pocket.
You bid your farewells for the night, unlinking hands and being left with a tingling sensation in it, one that you wonder if he’s also getting.
You go to your hotel room and feel full with joy.
He is all too sweet for this world. And you’re a little obsessed.
———
Although Italy being in Italy feels like being in a bubble, and like you’re so far away from the real world, it is unfortunately a purely mental one.
And there’s one thing about a headspace like that, and it’s just how quickly it can be popped.
At midnight that night a notification pops up on your phone, one that when you open, you have to physically put your phone down.
harryflorals:
what do i even caption this post because is that who i think it is or am i officially delusional? “HARRY WITH A FAN FROM THE LAST SHOW, HOLDING HANDS IN ITALY!” correct me if I’m wrong YALL idek anymore.
And this time, there’s no grain saving your ass. Because this was taken on what, quality wise, looks like a digital camera.
Which has made it so painstakingly obvious that it’s you. And you don’t even remember it being taken?
It was when you were walking back from the cafe, holding hands probably talking about fucking seesaws.
And everyone has caught on fast, because in the comments it’s an all out frenzy.
So, cats officially out of the bag.
———
y’all can expect a part four considering i lowkey left this on a cliffhanger 😝 so its on its way my loves
update: next part, PART 4!
taglist:
@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18
+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love
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