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terrorbitch · 5 months ago

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i've added a family and i wanna see who i wanna keep on writing, so like this for a starter from someone in the galloway family. under the cut i'll list a little more information.

harrison "harry" galloway. 50-55. heterosexual. skeet ulrich. harry is a real 'rags to riches' kind of guy. he was getting into trouble with the law as a kid, so when he was a teen his aunt (who was his guardian) made him join the local theatre because they had no boys. it was a fluke, but one of the biggest directors in hollywood picked him up and ever since then he was hollywood's golden boy. in a PR relationship, meeting the love of his life on set of the biggest movies of the century. eventually, they both cheated on their partners and quickly (and unexpectedly) got pregnant with their twin boys. however, harry is always looking for ways to recreate his youth. unfortunately, he can't say no to his pretty little costars when they bat their eyelashes and invite him over for a drink after the wrap party. he's an amazing man, some would say, being the face of a lot of charities. but he's not a great husband and an even worse father.

misty galloway. 50-55. bisexual. madchen amick. being an actress was in her blood. her mother and father were also a hollywood couple, her father being the head of the biggest production studio and her mother being his starlet. with a massive age gap between the two, misty barely knew her father. she just knew he was a cruel man, and her mother put up with it. gave up her dreams, but instilled an incredible work ethic for misty. in return, she was a child actress turned teen it girl. she was known for being sexually liberated but when she met harry, that all changed. having her twin boys changed her. she was devoted to being a good mother, advocating for every single thing she could. she saw her husband straying, so she desperately tried to keep him by having two daughters. nowadays, she keeps her head up and ignores the rumors, for her children. she is strong willed, and speaks up against things that could get her blacklisted. but she doesn't care, because she is more passionate about keeping a world safe for her children and potential grandchildren, than staying in hollywood's good graces.

rexford "rex" galloway. 27-30. bisexual. josh o'connor. though all of the galloway kids love their mother, rex and his mum have a closer relationship. he was always passionate about acting, but he had hesitated because she tried to keep him out of the scene. despite the boys being in a few of their father's movies, only rex had gotten bit by the acting bug. unfortunately for him, he took after his father having a wandering eye. he had always been connected to famous socialites, but still had himself focused on doing films that really inspired him. he only takes on indie projects that have meaning, but he's his mum's go-to for anything press related. he will often be seen fighting with his father, and many times tmz has covered their 'tumultuous' relationship. he's quick to anger, though normally reserved, and often seeking intellectual connections.

oswald "ozzie" galloway. 27-30. bisexual. callum turner. he never really cared about the whole 'hollywood' of it all, but stuck around because he cared for his little sisters. ozzie never needed to get a job, he knew he was set, but he did take a particular interest in video games. ozzie constantly avoids conflicts, unless it's involving his younger sisters. your typical eboy/gamer bf, fluffy hair, tall and lanky. he'll secretly post thirst traps on twitter and tiktok, casually mentioning that he also likes to read books (acota and the likes) and has a pretty intense following on twitch. he doesn't get involved with his family affairs, often falling for the wrong girls and trying to hide away from his fame despite having a complete online persona. he's the sweet one of the family, always trying to work things out between the six of them.

sawyer galloway. 22-24. bisexual. bailee madison. the bubbliest galloway in the world. a total daddy's girl, though he always seems to disappoint her. a child star despite her mother begging her father not to let her get into it, and now is starring in every teen movie netflix will put out. constantly battling with insecurity, secretly hating herself and everything she does. will often let boys walk all over her, afraid to come to terms with her attraction to women despite her sister and her mother being open about it. she will cry at the drop of a hat, but also has been referred to as a 'real life rapunzel' which she strives to be each and every day. more talented than what she's given, but too afraid to dip her toes into anything more serious for fear of rejection and critique.

vaughn galloway. 21-23. lesbian. sophie thatcher. the black sheep of the family, though she does often respect what her mom is trying to do it never feels like enough. passionate about activism, vaughn moved out as soon as she could, going to school and not entirely sure as to what she wanted to major in. she's insecure about the fact that she's a 'nepo baby' and so she'll likely hide away at different functions so no one notices her. she loves her brother but she still constantly feels like she doesn't belong, or that she doesn't deserve what she has. has been very open about being a lesbian since she was 12, and though many people questioned it her mother did not and supported her through it. can be found at lowkey music festivals, or just doing part time work in a small town where no one would notice her.

#indie rp #indie smut rp #indie bi rp #indie lesbian rp #!!!! i am very passionate abt this family #so pls even if we have stuff feel free to like it!!#i'll focus a lot of my time today on establishing them and see who sticks

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minerwarfare-suzuya · 1 year ago

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Aftermath

Miles Ownership timeline drama

Public Announcement

So, apparently Mobox87 has blocked me (not surprising or upsetting. Not like I'm going to have an outburst like I did in 2016) and messaged Kevonica about my post on Miles due to how she's brought up in it. I just want to clarify that she wouldn't have been brought up at all if she didn't put Miles on a pedestal for any issues that he causes with artists or with Mobox87 fans. So, yeah not my fault you get dragged into drama because Miles has to bring you into the argument for his defense.

But-

I will just say that I won't do another rant post on Mobox since I don't want to thrive on that to where she's becoming more uncomfortable being online than she already is. I don't support her IRL stalker and online stalker madbox91 harassment nor do I wish her to harm herself like she did before over Zombify's Twitter thread and feel that she needs to be taken off the internet by deleting her accounts all over social media.

I've come to a point where I don't care if Mobox87 apologizes because her and I will never be on good terms which the same could be said to her ex-friends that were once close to her. Plus, her apologies won't ever go into details on what she's done wrong since they always go on to say "I've done some bad things" (like what did you do?) or victimize herself saying "I was a manipulable person" (that neglects the fact that you made bad decisions on your own sense of mind not by others requests or demands). Either way, it's whatever at this point. I don't need 21 apologies for her to say publicly or privately to everyone.

Honestly, what goes on with Mobox87's art is whatever at this point. As long as she keeps explicit content on a second account that isn't advertised on her main then that's fine. Some may disagree but that's a post I'll talk about soon since I do want some understanding on what can work with mature story tellng.

So, Mobox this won't be the last you'll hear from me. Not until I make one last post on giving a sneak peek of my script segment "Understanding" which will later follow up with a Maverick video posted here. For now, do whatever you want Mobox. Anything and everything said about you has been done.

In other words, I'll leave you alone for now since I do want you to succeed expectations to prove that you have changed as a person online.

Anyways!

Miles responded to my timeline post, specifically part 6 of my post cause I showed how he wanted to be in a committed relationship with a minor that was 16 who barely becoming 17.

Apparently he's been calling out Kevonica, Cagney and I out. Kev has been getting labeled as homophobic, racists and a pedophile with no evidence provided against her.

Most of the stuff said on his new account is just propaganda to make him look like he's the victim in the situation I called him out in. It's quite honestly no surprise he'd stoop so low as to label us as something we're not with out any evidence.

So just know that Miles is saying shit out of his ass.

One example being that he posted on his Instagram account "human_anthony_dust" and reposted on his new Tumblr account, calling me out as a pedo still and lying about how I "claimed false age" to his OC that he bought from Mobox87.

Which again he never announced the age of the OC publicly. Even then you can age up characters in drawings but I didn't since the OC is 30 years old or in his 30s. He's complaining over nothing.

Vinsnake is literally William Afton created as a fantasy character for Faces of Nothing. William Afton is a character in his 30s in which Mobox87 herself made Vinsnake around that exact age as it was originally attended.

Again, Miles never made the character 16 years old until he bitched about my drawing in response for harassing Yuriviq on DeviantArt.

Ironic though-

You made a character 16 years old last minute while you were trying to get with someone who you said was a 16 year old.

Even more ironic, that most of the OCs you kept the longest were kid OCs from Mobox87 while the adult OCs you owned were sold off first.

Doesn't really help your case after admitting you wanted to be with someone under 18.

Oh but wait-

I suppose you did take Kev's own words into consideration.

But that contradicts your deleted post before publicly sharing that "Important info".

You're obviously lying to protect your image and make Kev look guilty for showing me her conversation with you so I can look like I'm the dumb one jumping to conclusions.

The last response from Miles was this. Still being misleading and excusing his own actions

The following list says.

• Kevonica, Cagney and I look down at people for simple human mistakes.

Ah yes because saying I like a 16 year old barely becoming 17 while still under 18 when you're 21 surely is a "simple" human mistake.

Heck maybe the harassment all over Amino without remorse was a "simple" human mistake.

Surely, that IP ban you did to someone over a drawing of your paid OC was a "simple" human mistake.

• Lie about others and only care what they think is the correct answer.

Miles, that is you as a person. You fit that description cause you are a liar and only care what you think.

• Sick of our mental abuse, harassment and cuber bullying

Mental abuse? Where is the evidence on that of us ever doing that? Harassment and Cyber bullying is what you do since you fucken spam our DMs at 7 in the morning to talk out of your ass!

• Time to take a real adult step

You're a literal man. Whose a cry baby and the epitome of a bitch online over your petty nonsense. Like get that in your head. I'm not the one with entitlement over stupid reasons and lack of common sense.

Anyways, I'm just going to end it here because this asshole begged for a response after I went silent. So, here it is because you practically asked for it. This was your moment.

#human anthony dust #kawaii jeffery kun #minerwarfaresuzuya #mod cagney #kevonica

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y0d00p · 6 months ago

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not sad just rambling personal thoughts

I've followed basically the same under < 30 people here for the past like 10 years. I only follow people I believe I might cultivate at least an acquaintanceship with. I stopped caring about following artists just for their art with a detachment from them as a person like 15 years ago. if I follow you I consider you at least a good acquaintance or neighbour if not an actual friend if you're comfortable with it. the sole exceptions to this are the authors of the whole 2 webcomics I follow and straycatj

I can't even stand to follow more gimmick/aesthetic blogs. screenshotsofdespair, color-palettes, and one or two nonspecific cat blogs are the only ones that have stuck around all this time. like I've tried following new ones over the years and always eventually just get annoyed by the new unfamiliar posts on my dash lmao

I'm more lenient with this on twitter for whatever reason (following a whopping 58 accounts, which is barely too much sometimes), and extremely lenient with this on my nsfw twitter because most of my friends don't have such accounts or don't use them much or don't post the kind of niche content I want

so anyway following hundreds or even, god forbid, a thousand or more blogs sounds miserable to me. I want to be able to see everything everyone posted, every day! because I like their art and I like them as people and even though I'm quiet and don't interact much I care about them and their lives and like to see how they're doing and what they're into and what they're making and where their heads are at when they make stuff and such yknow

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limerental · 1 year ago

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ficletvember 2023 - day 30

gascon/meve/reynard thronebreaker office au

After months of failed efforts to matchmake his boss and her secretary, Gascon resorts to mistletoe at the company Yuletide party.

Part 1 here

Gascon was nearing his wit's end.

Over the course of the past months, he had tried every trick he could think of to coax his stubborn and oblivious colleagues into recognizing their mutual attraction.

To no avail.

Granted, most of his tricks came from cheesy romcoms and his own meager, largely online dating experience, but it shouldn't have been so hard to convince two middle-aged workaholics that they were made for each other.

Though his range was fairly niche, limited to obscure forums and hobbies most ordinary people would be ashamed to admit to in public, some would call Gascon an influencer.

If he could influence a few thousand people on Twitter into buying boring company merch featuring his fursona, surely he could convince his boss and her secretary to lock lips.

He didn't know how much more of this he could stand.

There were lingering glances as their fingers brushed when Reynard brought Meve her morning espresso and then similar, charged looks when Meve brought him mugs of chamomile in the evenings, her silent plea that he leave the office at a reasonable time for once and rest.

There were fond smiles from a distance, vanished the moment the other turned their way. There were little moments that verged nearly into flirtation, the inevitable sort of endless banter that happened between two people who truly liked one another, but those moments were inevitably interrupted by some workplace drama or another.

Meve pretended to care about Reynard's spreadsheet formulas. Reynard tripped over himself when asked to check Meve's emails for typos. Neither of them seemed to notice how often they finished each other's sentences.

It should have been fairly straight forward to give them both a nudge in the right direction, but alas. They were rigidly professional and bound by polite office decorum, wholly ignorant of their clear mutual interest.

The upcoming company Yuletide party, Gascon decided, would be his best shot to finally shove them out of the office and together. In previous years, the party had apparently been a dull midday luncheon, which just wouldn't do.

It had taken several days of consistent pleading, culminating in a gif-heavy PowerPoint presentation, to convince Meve to authorize Gascon to throw a festive company bash the likes of which Rivia-Lyria Inc. had never seen before. Or really wanted.

His plan was simple. Good food. Alcohol. Questionable music. A casual environment away from the expectations of the office. And then, mistletoe. Bam. Kissing. Immediate eloping. Profit.

On the evening of the party, Meve appeared like a vision in the festively-decorated banquet hall Gascon had rented. She wore a gold dress that shimmered in the light and draped off her bare shoulders, and it struck him then. How beautiful and out of reach she was.

He watched Reynard's lovestruck gaze follow her across the room and thought, I understand exactly what you feel.

Worse still, Reynard looked devastatingly handsome in a sharp tuxedo. His nervous half-smile when he noticed Gascon watching him was disarming in its awkward charm.

Ah. Of course.

In his months of unsuccessfyl match-making, Gascon had somehow managed to blunder into falling for them both.

Uncomfortable personal revelations be damned, the show had to go on.

But his attempts to lure them beneath any number of strategically placed sprigs of mistletoe went thoroughly ignored. The couple had eyes only for each other, locked in deep conversation, and could not be distracted into the convenient means of moving things along to smooching that Gascon had provided for them.

Defeated, he moped in a hidden corner along the outskirts of the gathering, nursing a mug of spiked eggnog and posting depressing all caps song lyrics on his personal Twitter

He was interrupted in his attempts to miserably wile away the remaining hours of the party by someone clearing their throat.

It was Meve, smiling, and Reynard on his other side. She gestured above his head.

Knickers leaned through the garland-draped banister of the balcony above him, wagging his tail with his usual expression of mischievous glee. From his collar hung a sprig of faux greenery rather than his usual oversized dog tag.

The brush of lips against his cheek was soft and unexpected. He must have been making quite the dumbfounded expression in response, because Meve laughed, bright and gorgeous, and even the seemingly humourless Reynard snorted.

His perplexed spluttering was interrupted when Meve leaned to kiss Reynard thoroughly on the mouth with a familiarity that could only come with excessive practice.

Gascon had never claimed to be the most detail-oriented man. Well, maybe he had in multiple bullet points on his resume. But who's counting?

After a lengthy conversations about assumptions, open communication, and Gascon's poor taste in romcoms, the trio proceeded to christen every silly bit of greenery hung about the place.

And then some.

#my fic #ficletvember #this is silly and self indulgent!!!#teehee this is the last one!#thronebreaker

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bambiscottagecare · 4 months ago

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I went out with some old coworkers today. I feel like without the emotion this could have been one hell of a kink post but it’s hard for me to want to spin this that way, so I’m posting here instead.

I found out that the person who was essentially my workplace bully (as cringe as that sounds) is in the middle of an active investigation because the district manager wants her fired. Multiple people have quit, including some new hires, several of the shift leads have either threatened to or have transferred, and apparently my name has floated around a bit. The DM actually wants to talk to me specifically but technically can’t because I don’t work there. I’ll gladly meet her at Applebee’s and spill over a shark bowl or some Sangria though. It feels really validating, though depressing. Not that it matters in the end because she’s still working there and my indeed inbox has cobwebs.

I would love to tell her about how she treated me like dog shit. About how she constantly made me feel worthless, and (sorry but I’m gonna use the word outside of kinkplay) retarded. Everything Idid felt wrong, and no matter what it was it never felt like I was good enough. I’d love to talk about how she always put me in lose-lose scenarios to prove a point, or how I’d have to give myself long pep talks before leaving. Or how I started smoking again after getting hired, because being stoned and bed rotting was what helped me unwind and relax. And despite posting about being a dumb bimbo I never wore makeup to work because I physically did not have it in me to put on a face for people that didn’t like me, and I sure as hell didn’t want to cry off my face that I worked so hard on. I actually barely even wear makeup anymore. I’m gonna lose platinum at Ulta and I’ve already lost rouge at Sephora. Kinda ironic considering part of the kink is makeup and being hyper feminine, huh? Speaking of…

When I come on here and talk about wanting to be degraded and called slurs and stuff that’s obviously in the context of kink. I sign up for it, quite literally. I consent to DM’s and mean reblogs. And if I’m not consenting, I’m not on tumblr because I’m not in that headspace. And if you’ve managed to cross a line even with that consent, I’ll just block you.

But…I haven’t had that problem. Truth is masochistic misogyny doms, in my experience, have been wonderful. They check in on you. Even if they’re not domming you and are just randos that come across your content. I KNOW that it’s not always that way. We all have horror stories it seems like. I just haven’t. I can tell you all about people like my former boss who come off as sweet and caring just to be the worst person ever, but in the 30 years that I’ve been alive and the 12ish where I’ve been either in this space or adjacent, I can count on one hand the bad experiences I’ve had with a self proclaimed Superior Male.

And I’d rather have the guy posting about how we’re (women) are all useless retards and not worth the shit in their toilet in my DM’s and in my life than the guy with the aesthetic Twitter account who always retweets anti-bullying psas anywhere near me.

Uh, thanks for coming to my ted talk ig, all four of you that follow this blog.

#op

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charcubed · 1 year ago

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Hey! Yeah, I'm happy to clarify myself. Thanks for not jumping down my throat.

This reply (though public) was in response to someone who I know has followed me on here + on twitter for quite a long time, so I was sort of "cutting to the quick" as it were and knowing I was working with her having some sort of context lol. But this is the open internet, obviously, so it's definitely not on you to know the full POV of who I am and other things I've said about this topic previously.

Firstly: my sexuality has layers, but one of those layers is that I'm ace too. Sex-repulsed ace, actually! Don't fuck, never intend to fuck, have never seen myself fully represented in media, etc. etc. So everything you've mentioned regarding the ace experience are things I also live.

And I'm also not a kid either! I'm nearly 30. When I said "the ace mostly-children of the fandom," the "mostly-children" part wasn't saying all the ace people are kids. It was saying that the people who make logic leaps and act like what I said above (who also happen to be ace) are, in my experience, mostly the kids of stan twitter.

As for the rest of it:

I'm gonna link you to this other post of mine where I talked about exactly what you're mentioning/asking here. It was/is a direct response to people saying they "hope Aziraphale and Crowley don't have sex," even (in some cases, which seems to apply to you too) despite seeing the subtext pointing towards it.

That post covers most of what you asked/mentioned! I'm gonna do us both the courtesy of trying not to repeat it lmao. But I'll elaborate on this sentence of yours a bit too as an add-on:

"However, I'm an ace who enjoys other earthly pleasures... without enjoying sex... so I'm honestly not sure what the issue is, or how it's homophobic."

The thing is that – saying this in the least patronizing way possible, but I gotta state this in order to deconstruct this – the rules of stories are not the rules of real life. By that I mean... Yes, ace people like you and I can and do enjoy other earthly pleasures and not enjoy sex! Totally, yeah. But that is a level of nuance this story is (thus far) purposefully not engaging with, and is in fact antithetical to what it has now laid down (post-season 2) about these characters and their behaviors.

The omission of them enjoying or openly seeking after sex so far is not an indication that they can't or don't crave it with each other. (Like a viral post recently said on this site, "sometimes a story is about the gay sex that's not being had" lmao.) And, sorry for the repetition here, but by many people's admission there is evidence that the story does have some indication of subtext about that craving and desire for sex – partially because it is a story, and stories (unlike real lives) work within the construct of themes.

In Good Omens, pleasure – and the denial of it but desire to engage in all forms of it – is a huge theme in the narrative. It's an unavoidably queer theme that connects to the (religious-coded) trauma the characters are living/experiencing, the way their relationship is deliberately deeply illicit and hidden, the blatant imagery of Muriel being dressed as a cop and looking for evidence of that illicit relationship which is very connected to historical connotations of cops enforcing laws against queer people / gay sex... and more.

We know that they do both want and enjoy earthly pleasures – music, clothing, culture, food. Once Aziraphale gets one taste, he ravenously yearns for more. In Crowley's case, he also sometimes starves himself of things because he's afraid to admit how deeply and desperately he wants (i.e. watching Aziraphale eat while barely eating himself).

They are both so very Different from all the other characters (and are constantly under threat of being punished for it, especially if they engage in anything too Visually Different) because they are "of the world." They are enamored with all of the experiences and pleasures of humanity, and they rebel despite the dangers that presents because it's part of who they are. As part of that, they Crave, while fighting with the shame and fear of knowing they're strictly not allowed to Have.

Considering the breadth and depth of these themes, and the fact that those themes are explicitly queer, at this point that craving for pleasure cannot and should not be divorced from all forms of pleasure. Queer sex included. Because they're characters, not real people, so it's not a leap to see the subtext (with the ox scene only being a part of it) in the story overall, and then to look at how Aziraphale just got a first taste of Crowley. We can follow that thought to its future natural conclusion – and want to see the story follow that natural conclusion on our screens as well for necessary thematic consistency.

[Side note: As you said, ace people can and do have sex. I do think one can argue now and in the future that these characters are ace spec, if someone wants to! But I am also not naive to the fact that when people say they want "ace rep," they often mean visible ace rep, aka not seeing characters have sex. Because if characters fuck and don't have a conversation where they sit down and establish that they, y'know, don't experience sexual attraction but have sex with each other because they're demi or because it feels good or whatever (which is not gonna happen in Good Omens!)... then the majority of the population is not gonna watch it and see them as ace. And at the end of the day, plenty of ace people looking for "visible" rep would be angry about that, I'm sure. And that's the issue at hand. It is what it is.]

Thank you for being like one of the TWO people I've seen who agree with me on Neil's whole Thing right now, on Twitter they are really gunning for the "a+c having sex would be acephobic" position and it's making me so tired

"a+c having sex would be acephobic"

I'm going to commit murder <3

Sorry that's not helpful but this actively introduces so much inarticulate frustration and near-rage in me that I don't even know how to begin to unpack how stupid and often lowkey homophobic that is lmao. And I know I don't really need to (in terms of replying to you because you get it)

feels like this though

Neil Gaiman, being pedantic and somewhat insane for kicks: Of course that kiss wasn't sexual. (Crowley was not asking to fuck Aziraphale in that scene. The kiss was about something else entirely in their moment of fraught miscommunication.)

The ace mostly-children of the fandom: Omg soooo true Mr. Gaiman 💕💕💕 a kiss doesn't have to be sexual! They're ace! Aziraphale and Crowley don't want to fuck because they're ETHEREAL BEINGS who crave other earthly pleasures but NOT SEX, why would they want sex, that would be silly! Thank you for my beautiful ace rep 😍 Anyone trying to erase this is acephobic and I hope they NEVER fuck!

Me: Every single one of you, Mr. Gaiman included, is making me grow grey hairs and I feel like I'm actively in the twilight zone right now

#good omens #IN THE WEEDS TODAY FOLKS.#I will not be Discourse Posting any more today because it's now 4:30pm <3 perhaps I am now the true chronically online one? who is to say #char writes things #also earlier I wrote about how I think neil is fucking around and finding out with the ace community in an unwise manner #but this post is already long enough so I don't need to touch on that or link to it lmaaooo

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pradagymbag · 10 months ago

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Examining my media usage over a 24 hour period

iPhones do not control you <3

Over the weekend I took some extra time to monitor my media usage. This includes all screens watched, not just my iPhone. Lately I’ve been really trying to cut back on how much I use my phone. The mental drainage that follows a TikTok rabbit hole has finally caught up to me. We have an on again off again relationship, meaning I delete the app every few days only to end up downloading it again. Each time I relapse I binge even harder, making up for lost time, but that’s all part of recovery. That being said, this research was conducted over a 24 hour period where the TikTok app was not downloaded on my phone. Every hour or so, depending on the activity I was doing, I logged what form of media I was using and for how long. The following is a detailed description of a usual Sunday in my life, focusing on the media I consumed that is inherently rotting my brain.

I start my day of screen consumption in bed, 9am and I’m already in the trenches of twitter. Catching up on extremely relevant pop culture news and accidentally watching an extremely graphic video of active war crimes. After that light reading I dig through my rolodex of podcasts and find one that suits my vibe for the day. It’s important I highlight this now because you will notice as this day unfolds, I am almost always listening to podcasts. I think it’s because any waking moment I have alone with myself I run the risk of hearing my own thoughts, so the podcasts really help drown that out.

It’s around 9:30 by now so I hop in the shower, get ready for my day, and head out the door, all with a podcast still playing. I had to run a quick errand so I drove to the bank and blared some tunes in the car on the way there and back. Upon arriving home I start a load of laundry, during the process a podcast is playing. Then I mosey back up three flights of stairs to my apartment and make breakfast, listening to a podcast as I cook. Around 11:30 I head downstairs to my neighbor/bestie Annie’s house. For a moment we sit in the living room and talk some shit (media detox if you will) about the occurrences from the night before (nothing harmful relax everyone does it). We exhaust ourselves speaking about nonsense and decide we should listen to some music. I’ve been teaching Annie how to DJ for her birthday party coming up, so we spend the next 45 minutes mixing songs that definitely don’t belong together. By now it’s noon, and we have places to be.

The place in question being Costco. This was my media defying activity for the day. Though I did aux in the car, I barely checked my phone for the hours between noon and 3pm. If you have the ability to use your phone in an environment as over stimulating as costco on a Sunday I don’t know if I should fear or applaud you.

When we got back home it was around 3 in the afternoon. I used my phone to venmo request my roommates because I spent $40 on toilet paper and paper towels. Then I headed back downstairs and Annie and I continued mixing music until about 4:30. Around that time we had some friends show up at the house so we got some socializing in before watching a movie. Once that was over I went for my nightly walk (around 7pm) where I did not engage with any sort of media whatsoever. I find it really soothing to have moments like this each day that are dedicated to getting outside and feeling like a real person. It was around 8 o’clock when I got home and had dinner. I picked up a burrito on my walk and watched TV while I ate. My roommates and I then proceeded to binge watch Broad City until around 10pm.

After starting to doze off on the couch downstairs, I decided it’s time to wrap up my day. I resume my podcast and go down to the basement to check my laundry. 13 hours and still not all dry! God, I love my landlord. I pay $1.50 in coins to run the dryer for the 4th time that day, and head upstairs accepting my fate. I take another shower and do my nighttime routine while listening to a podcast. Now it’s time for my favorite part of the day. I get to lay in bed nice and clean and doom scroll on my phone until I fall asleep! I do a dance checking every single app over and over in a loop like a cyborg. Once I feel myself unable to keep up, I set my alarms, resume my podcast one last time, and fall asleep. Today my screen time was a whopping 4 hours and 27 minutes, just on my phone. If I was being more accurate though I would tack on an extra 2.5 hours to include time spent on the computer, watching TV, and listening to music/podcasts.

Overall this experience was really insightful and helped me gauge just how addicted I really am to my phone and other forms of media. The biggest take away here is that I really benefit from not having access to tiktok, and that I can’t be alone with my own thoughts! Hope you enjoyed consuming this piece of media about my personal media consumption habits! How much screen time did you put in reading this?

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olderthannetfic · 2 years ago

Note

I think the Ana Mardoll thing on Twitter was a good example of how a lot of the most influential anti types are older and should know better and are doing it for clout and to create a younger following. Person with a long-standing Internet reputation for suggesting bad stuff in books “does harm” and harassing authors for not being progressive enough turning out to work for Lockheed Martin is hilarious on its own (and I hope gets people to think about who these kinds of stances really “help”) but I also thought it was notable that he regularly begged for money from a following that was largely young and not particularly financially secure trans people by pretending to be poor when he wasn’t, and that his whole internet persona seemed to be about trying to fool people into thinking he was younger than he was — had an avatar that was supposed to resemble himself that looked like fanart of a K-pop boy when Mardoll is a white 40-something and also consistently referred to himself as a “trans boy” rather than trans man. A lot of grown adult anti behavior seems to be this “how do you do fellow kids” sort of manipulative behavior toward younger people who don’t know better when really they just want to be a cult leader and have identified a vulnerable audience. And also I think AM was pretending to be younger so that his ideas didn’t have full scrutiny

Yup.

I admit, when I heard that name again, I went "Oh, that person's still around?" and then "LOL, Shakesville". Even though the self-involved middle class person thinking they're disadvantaged wasn't Mardoll in that case, it's not an association he'd want to raise in the minds of his suckers audience.

I think quite a few people like Mardoll genuinely think they have it bad though. It's not a lie. I saw these people all the time when I worked in Finance, and they litter the tech industry in California. By most people's standards, they have a lot going for them, but they're surrounded by the ultra-rich and ultra-successful. Maybe Mommy and Daddy had remunerative careers too. So when a given person's talents are more suited to writing or art or when they just don't take off like some of their peers, they feel like the saddest cinderella sleeping in the ashes. They've got the massive entitlement of their community but not its success. They also see the bare minimum of a decent life as home ownership of a nice, freestanding house with a yard and the ability to take international vacations.

I don't think they can even really grasp just how little some of their donors have or how out of reach those middle class dreams are for them.

God, the “how do you do fellow kids” part is so embarrassing to witness. I don't give a fuck if people like things that are theoretically "too young" for them. Kids' books. Idols. Who cares?

But this isn't that: it's the fear of irrelevance by age 30 or 40. It's being bitter that you weren't cool/successful/whatever the first time around and feeling entitled to a do-over. And not the "hey, I found myself at 40" version where someone acknowledges their past or tries to dismantle all the silly nonsense around aging. No, they want to go back to being inherently more relevant and cool by virtue of being A Youth.

Like I've said before, this is what I always picture:

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or-is-ittt · 3 years ago

Text

Be Here

You and Harry rarely ever fought but when you did it was never pretty. Your fights were never meaningless and never about cheating rumors or anything like that. No. They were normally about one of you neglecting the other or about the chores that either of you failed to complete.

Harry had promised you a night out tonight to make up for being in the studio so much lately. “It’ll be a great night babe. Just the two of us.” He had told you the day before.

However it seemed as though his plans had changed because you’d been waiting for him to come home for the past 2 hours and pictures of him entering a bar with the band were filling your twitter feed. After the first 30 minutes of waiting for him, you began to grow impatient and angrier every second you saw the door not swinging open.

Your reservation was at 8:30, and it was 11 now. Fuming you decided to go and change out of your light pink flowy dress you had bought the day before just for your first date with Harry after almost a month. You knew that dating The Harry Styles would mean giving up lots of nights out and time spent together, but lately it seemed as though he didn’t even acknowledge that he was in a relationship at all. Every time you had presented him with the idea of spending time together weather it was at home or in public he would shoot you down with a “I have an important meeting with Jeff.” Or “ I have a super mandatory recording session today and I can’t miss it.”

After changing you decided that you were done waiting up for him so you got ready for bed and took your pillow to the guest room. You knew that you couldn’t stand to be sleeping with him that night. You absolutely hated fighting and confrontation so you decided that you wouldn’t be the one to start any of that. So you would give him the silent treatment. ———————————————————————————

Harry knew he had fucked up big time when he came home fully drunk and with you and your pillow gone from your guys room. He knew that he had a date with you but they had gotten done in the studio an hour early and the band had wanted to go for a couple of drinks. He was a little hesitant but he figured he would just leave early and would just have like 2 drinks. However the 2 turned into 4 and then into 6 and by then he’d lost track of time completely and the cherry on top was that his phone died so he didn’t even get your calls or texts.

He knew you were going to be angry the next day since this was the 3rd time he’d done that to you that month so he decided that he would get up earlier than you and try to make it up to you. You normally never got up before 9 on the weekends, so when you’re in the kitchen at 8 already eating your own breakfast, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

Carefully walking over to you, he pulls you into him and gives you a light kiss on your temple. “Mornin’ love” he says, voice barley over a whisper.

You pull away from him, grab your dishes to put in the sink and walk up the stairs, practically not even acknowledging his existence. He knew he deserved this but he just wanted to fix it so he follows you and gently pulls your wrist before you can get on the first step.

“M’sorry love, I completely lost track of time and my phone died, ” he says but you refuse to look him in the eye because you know you’ll start crying. “Please love just look at me, Jeff and the band wanted to go fo’ drinks and I just thought I would go for a bit. I know it sounds awful but I’m sorry and it won’t happen again.” He speaks his voice trembling a little.

You wished that sometimes he would just say no, you’ve never understood why it was so hard for him to just stand his ground. You were tired from barely getting enough sleep last night and weren’t ready to talk to him yet. You knew it probably wasn’t the best thing to do but you just couldn’t handle him right now so you pull your wrist away from his hand and continue walking to the guest bedroom.

Right when you close the door you’re crying your eyes out because it all just got to much. You want to believe him when he says it wouldn’t happen again but it’s hard to when he’s always forgetting or busy. Soft sobs fill the room and you begin to doubt your relationship with him. It wasn’t that you didn’t love him because you did, with every breath you took and with all of your heart, but it’s hard to be in a relationship with someone who’s not as present as the other. You knew you’d signed up for this but maybe you couldn’t handle it. Maybe you just needed to take a break from him for a little bit, just to collect your thoughts and how you feel about your relationship. Maybe Harry just needs to get some of his priorities straight. And weren’t being mean or inconsiderate but you knew that Harry loved what he did and you never wanted to get in the way of that so you knew that a break from each other would be a good thing. You sat like that for an hour just thinking about all of it.

A soft knock was heard and you knew it was Harry trying to talk to you. You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever so you got up and opened the door slowly like a scared child who knew they were going to get in trouble. (I know bad analogy but bare with me here) He looked as if he had been crying too and you knew he was sorry and after thinking everything through you knew what you were going to say.

“Love… I-I’m so s-sorry.” He spoke through sobs that completely shattered your heart. “P-please don’t leave m-me, I know I fucked up but j-just let me make it up to y-you. Please.” He fell to his knees and shook violently with sobs.

Now you were crying too. “Baby g-get up please” you spoke, voice barely coming through from all the crying you’d been doing as well. You feel to the ground as well where he was still crying and put or arms around him hugging him tightly while trying to calm yourself and him. You both stayed like that for a while just embracing each other not wanting to move or talk about everything that had been happening. The both of you got up and walked hand in hand to the small seating area you had in the room.

Neither of you wanted to start the conversation but you knew someone had to so you decided that it’d be you.

“Why Harry?” You said your voice cracking a bit. “If you knew we had a date why did you say yes to going to the bar? A-am I not of enough importance to you to get you to say no?” You spoke

He looked at you through sad tear eyes and shocked his head. “You are love… i just… i wasn’t thinking and I’m sorry.”

“You know what Harry, that’s a shit excuse. I can’t and I won’t always be here waiting up on you to come home because ‘you weren’t thinking’ ” You say holding up air quotations with your fingers.

“I didn’t think I’d forget. I was only trying to have like 2 drinks and then they all started doing shots and I had said no but they wouldn’t stop asking, but I didn’t mean to I swear darling.” He cries. “P-please just give me one more chance love. I’ll be better I swear. I’ll come home early from the studio more often, whatever you want me to do I’ll do it love. Just please don’t leave.” He says

You don’t want to leave him either so you decide to give him this one chance. “I’m not going to leave you H. But you have to promise me something.” You say

“Whatever it is love I’ll do it, just say the words.” He speaks hope evident in his voice.

“Just…just be here.” You say a soft smile creeping up on face when you realize that you are both going to be alright. You know that this will take a while to heal but your willing to make it work with him.

He gently cups your cheeks and pulls you in for a soft kiss. You pull back and smile. “We’ll be alright yea?” He says. “We’ll be alright” you beam at him.

A/n alright so my longest writing ever! Please like and reblog!!!! Also please be niceee but still leave me your honest opinion.

#harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff

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eleanorfenyxwrites · 2 years ago

Text

The Sculptor

Chapter 10 - The Gift of Fire

[Final main chapter! I'll post the epilogue shortly and then this fic is done ♥ And please don't forget to check out @ceru-draws!! This fic wouldn't exist without their incredible piece The Sculptor (but Wangxian), and I seriously can't recommend their art enough, go give them some love! Follow them here, or on Twitter, or on Instagram, whatever you prefer, but just do it!]

[Masterpost] [AO3]

-/-

“How was the party?” Lan Wangji asks Wen Qing when she arrives home on Saturday afternoon, and he can tell the moment she walks through the door that something’s up. He looks beyond her shoulder to spot Luo Qingyang following her in, and he relaxes. He likes Luo Qingyang, truly and genuinely, and though he’s not typically fond of unexpected visitors, how could he be upset to see her? “Mianmian,” he greets, more warmly than he would greet anyone else who isn’t his wife or Wei Wuxian.

“Hi Wangji,” she says with a sweet smile up at him. “I hope you don’t mind-”

“You know you’re always welcome in our house, don’t ever apologize,” Wen Qing reminds her before Lan Wangji can say precisely the same. “We have news for you,” she then says to him, and he can’t help but blink at the barely-restrained aggression in her tone.

He reaches out to take the shopping bag from Luo Qingyang’s arms with an inquisitive noise in the back of his throat. The pair of them follow him into the kitchen, and when he sets the bag down with a rustle of paper and a glance back at them he catches them in the middle of communicating something between them with nothing more than sharp glances in his direction and thinned lips.

“What happened?” he asks with no small amount of alarm - considering the panic he’d felt over the party in the first place, he’s not inclined to think that any news they might have to give him together the day after will be anything good.

“Wei Wuxian is definitely gay.” Wen Qing says it like ripping off a bandaid, sharp and quick, and Lan Wangji so thoroughly appreciates his wife and her no-nonsense attitude in that moment that he can hardly breathe. “Mianmian’s Family - they’re the painters he shares Yiling Collective with, the theater director at the performing arts center in town, and Wei Wuxian.”

“He was there?” Lan Wangji asks when he feels like he can breathe again. He’s not sure what he would have done if he’d gone to the party with them and seen Wei Wuxian sitting there, surrounded by part of their little underground community in such a way that there could be absolutely no doubt as to his place in it, but it likely wouldn’t have been very dignified.

“No,” Luo Qingyang says apologetically and Lan Wangji exhales carefully. “But Uncle Xingchen had to run out to the studio for something and he said A-Ying was still in his side of the studio moping around. Uncle invited him to come but he said he didn’t want to show up at the party all sad and accidentally spoil our coming out. He started telling us about the piece he saw on the workbench, and when he described it to us Qing-jie knew for sure that my ‘cousin’ he kept mentioning was your Wei Wuxian. I didn’t even realize you were down there working with him until last night!”

Lan Wangji stares into the space between their shoulders and just..tries to think.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes come to mind first, laughing and intense in equal measure, heavy whenever they rest on him for any reason. His hands, never straying but…lingering, on the rare occasions Wei Wuxian finds a reason to touch him. His blushes, his praises, the way each image he’s made of Lan Wangji yet has been done with so much delicate care that it makes him want to blush just to think of them.

He’d mentioned the end of their allotted time together twice within roughly 30 seconds of each other yesterday, and the reminder had settled uncomfortably under Lan Wangji’s ribs and stayed there, sharp as a razor whenever he breathes even today. Had it made Wei Wuxian just as upset? He’d seemed alright when Lan Wangji had left, but if Xiao Xingchen, who must know him well, had seen him just hours later and reported him back as ‘moping’ then what could have happened in the interim except Wei Wuxian thinking about their parting conversation?

“A-Zhan?” Wen Qing prompts quietly, and Lan Wangji forces himself to take a deep breath in. Hold it. Exhale slowly. “I want you to pursue this,” she tells him when he looks at her, her face as serious as it ever gets. “I want you to be happy. We can stay married, we can adopt A-Yuan, we can do everything we promised. And you can keep Wei Wuxian.”

“He’s single,” Luo Qingyang adds before Lan Wangji can attempt to get his feet back under him and he narrows his eyes at her - they’ve clearly coordinated this attack, but Luo Qingyang just smiles at him, falsely guileless. “And he told Huaisang forever ago that he was going to quit going down to the Corner Bar because hookups just aren’t what he wants anymore, he’s looking for more but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to find it.”

Lan Wangji wants to give him so much more that his knees nearly buckle under the weight of it, though of course only he knows just how close he is to losing his iron-clad control.

“Go sit down,” Wen Qing orders. “That’s a lot of information for 2pm on a Saturday, just go think about it, alright? We’re going to make Mianmian’s cookies to take across to Margaret, we’ll set some aside for you.”

Lan Wangji frowns a little at that, startled out of his spiraling thoughts by the utterly uncharacteristic decision from Wen Qing to not only bake cookies for someone, but specifically for a woman she claims to barely tolerate. As far as distractions go, it’s surprisingly effective. It’s Luo Qingyang who clears that up for him too, still smiling sweetly.

“I think Peggy’s one of us,” she says with a wink. “I’ve seen her snooping around the outside of the Corner Bar one too many times for her to have been ‘just a little lost’, I want her to know we’re here for her if she needs people to talk to.”

“Right,” Lan Wangji manages, and the only thing that keeps him from mumbling it is all his uncle’s comportment lessons as a boy. “That is…good. Mn.” He drifts out of the kitchen in a daze to return to his spot on the couch, mind churning uncomfortably through so much new information that he was in no way prepared for. He can hear Wen Qing and Luo Qingyang chatting quietly in the kitchen as they bake, occasionally breaking into laughter, and it soothes him to hear his best friend and her partner free to be themselves. Happy.

This is what he’d promised her. He’d sworn to her that they’d keep each other safe, that she could be herself with him and he would be there for her. Encourage her. He’s only realizing now that he’d never truly anticipated she would need to uphold her promises to do the same for him. He’d been so certain that he would spend his life entirely celibate, too afraid of being hurt, being in danger, to ever pursue a partner for himself. He had accepted that. But now, with the possibility of not having to accept it in front of him, it feels like his entire world has been flipped upside down. It’s terrifying. It’s uncomfortable.

But he knows Wei Wuxian. He trusts him. He, if he’s being honest with himself, loves him already. Desperately, in his own quiet, hidden ways. If pursuing that love means he has to feel like he’s falling up into space then he hopes he never finds his footing again.

“What are you going to do?” Wen Qing asks him quietly on Monday morning when he comes downstairs for breakfast, dressed for the day as usual in one of his most comfortable suits. “Will you tell him?”

“I do not know,” he answers honestly. He’s had a day and a half to think about it, and though he knows he wants Wei Wuxian, wants whatever the man will give him, he has utterly no idea how to go about actually getting it. Wen Qing had come to him on her own to ask him to start ‘dating’, and had proposed their marriage to him as well in her usual no-nonsense way. He has never once, in his entire life, practiced going after the things he wants like this, and certainly never with so much at stake.

Wen Qing, mercifully, leaves him to his thoughts without sharing any of her opinions on the matter (though he’s sure she has plenty). She sends him off at the door at the usual time with a reassuring squeeze to his hand and he appreciates it, the quiet reminder that no matter what happens he still has her. They’d promised - support and companionship. Security. He can be safe with her, even if everything else falls apart.

When he arrives at the studio it’s to find Wei Wuxian only just arriving to unlock the door, his shoulders a little slumped and his hair tied up sloppily in a red ribbon, much brighter than the faded maroon of his shirt. Lan Wangji thinks of Luo Qingyang saying that he’d been ‘moping’ on Friday night, and he wonders with a pang if that’s still the case.

“Wei Ying,” he greets, and the man turns to look at him over his shoulder, already grinning at the sight of him.

“Lan Zhan! Right on time as always. Sorry I’m not already set up, I slept in this morning.”

“No need, Wei Ying deserves to rest.”

Wei Wuxian just chuckles at that and steps into the studio. The first thing Lan Wangji notices when he steps inside is that the place absolutely reeks of cigarette smoke, and he glances automatically at the ubiquitous little cardboard box that had taken up residence in Wei Wuxian’s pockets a few weeks ago. He hasn’t actually seen him smoking, but now he supposes that’s just because Wei Wuxian does it on his own rather than because he doesn’t actually do it at all.

“Ah…I’ll just. Open the windows,” Wei Wuxian says sheepishly with a little wrinkle of his nose that’s unfairly adorable.

“Mn.”

Lan Wangji shuts the door behind them and begins undressing. After having done it so many times he barely hesitates at all, even when it comes to removing his trousers which is still such a new development. His hands are shaking today like they haven’t since those first few days of undressing here, but he knows that at least this morning it has very little to do with baring himself for Wei Wuxian’s gaze - which, now that he can be honest with himself about his feelings, had thrilled him just as much as it had terrified him when Wei Wuxian mentioned it during that very first meeting.

“So - before you get comfortable on the sofa for the day,” Wei Wuxian starts with a smirk to invite him to join in the joke that is ‘comfortable’, as his pose is far from it, “I want to let you know that since I’ll be moving onto the final piece now I need to take some um..measurements. Well a lot of them, actually. To build to scale.”

It hardly takes any consideration at all for Lan Wangji to see the logic of that and he nods easily, unsure why Wei Wuxian is blushing about it.

It takes roughly two minutes more for Lan Wangji to understand the reason for that too.

He’s been measured for suits his entire life, stood on many a tailor’s podium with his feet spread shoulder-width apart and grit his teeth until the process was over. He has never once had a handsome man’s hands on his bare skin, measuring every conceivable part of his body. It’s a very different experience, and one he has no interest in ending any time soon.

Wei Wuxian’s clever, lovely fingers skim across shoulders, ribs, down his arms, circle around his wrists…his neck. He finds a robin’s egg blue silk ribbon somewhere in all his many scraps of fabric and uses it to tie Lan Wangji’s hair up for him when it proves to be too inconvenient to ask him to hold it up out of the way in a loose bun on top of his head, and somehow the gentle hold of it at the back of his head, the bottom two thirds of his hair still hanging loose to drape over his shoulders, leaves him feeling more exposed than if it were all still gathered neatly out of the way.

He stands still in the middle of Wei Wuxian’s studio, in front of a mirror he’s never seen before but that Wei Wuxian seems to be using to help with the measuring process, and he settles into the low-simmering arousal of being naked for Wei Wuxian as the man, fully dressed, circles him slowly. Touches him, polite and businesslike but reverent in the same way he’s been every single time he’s ever touched him. Lan Wangji glances down on instinct when Wei Wuxian stops in front of him to measure the breadth of his chest from shoulder to shoulder and his next inhale catches when he sees Wei Wuxian’s sturdy leather boots so close to his own bare feet, a large fold in the stiffened skirt of his apron a hairsbreadth from brushing against his thigh.

Wei Wuxian has forgone his usual clay-stained overalls for the day, dressed instead in worn trousers and a sinfully soft short-sleeved button up, sleeves cuffed over the strong curves of his biceps, all of it haphazardly protected by a softened denim apron that does actually brush Lan Wangji’s skin in the next moment when Wei Wuxian steps just a centimeter too close. Lan Wangji’s hands are practically aching with the desire to push it all off him and strip him down as well, even as he thrills at the power dynamic of being so vulnerable in front of Wei Wuxian, still completely put-together and in control of Lan Wangji’s every movement.

Wen Qing’s question pings helpfully in the front of his mind again when he looks up from the narrow space between them to meet Wei Wuxian’s wide, dark eyes.

What are you going to do?

Wei Wuxian’s fingers twitch on his chest and he swallows once before he leans back to scribble messily in his notebook balanced on the edge of his workbench, the furniture shoved aside for the moment to accommodate the mirror and give them room for Wei Wuxian to circle around him easily. They continue on in silence like that - nothing but their breathing, the occasional creak of leather or the wooden floor, and the slither of the tape measure through Wei Wuxian’s fingers to break it - for almost half an hour before Wei Wuxian finally takes a step back and studies him, color high in his cheeks.

“I have a few more to do,” he says, which Lan Wangji had expected considering he hasn’t even done his legs. He nods and follows easily when Wei Wuxian sits down on his stool sandwiched carefully between the mirror and the overladen table that Lan Wangji has spent hours looking at over Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. He’s meant many times to ask him about the family of statues on the top of it and is tempted to ask now, but whatever’s happening between them right now is..fragile in a way he can’t explain, but that he knows he doesn’t want to break. He stands silently beside the mirror as Wei Wuxian leans over - stretching out the lean line of his body for Lan Wangji to savor - to drop his tape measure on the workbench and swap it out for a pair of wooden calipers. Lan Wangji can’t resist raising an eyebrow when Wei Wuxian clears his throat and gestures vaguely at his hips.

Not that he needs permission, Lan Wangji would give Wei Wuxian anything, but he nods anyway and offers the man his usual quiet but firm, “Mn.” The familiar gesture makes Wei Wuxian smile up at him and Lan Wangji slides his hand up the side of the mirror to curl his fingers over the corner of the sturdy wooden frame - he’s afraid his knees will give out from under him if he doesn’t.

Wei Wuxian’s hands are visibly trembling as he adjusts the calipers a few times anxiously without bringing them anywhere near Lan Wangji’s cock (which is not nearly as soft as would be appropriate in a professional setting, though it’s thankfully not hard either) - and then he suddenly reaches into his pocket to draw out a brand new pack of cigarettes to pull one out and pop it between his lips.

What are you going to do?

Lan Wangji reaches out before he can think twice about it to take the lighter from Wei Wuxian’s shaking hands. As Wei Wuxian looks up at him, startled, he maintains steady eye-contact as he flicks the lid back on its hinge.

Spins the wheel under the side of his thumb with a metallic ring.

There’s a nearly inaudible whoosh as the flame catches, hot and bright in his hand, and then Lan Wangji holds it out at hip height, mere inches from his own pelvis.

If Wei Wuxian wants a light, he’ll have to lean in close to get it.

They spend an endless moment blinking at each other, and Lan Wangji thinks in that moment that an understanding of the sort they’ve been dancing around for two months, since the moment they met, finally passes between them. Wei Wuxian lounges sideways slowly, ankles crossed next to Lan Wangji’s bare feet, elbow resting on the back support of his stool. His calipers dangle carelessly from his relaxed hand as he raises the other hand to hold his cigarette steady between his index and middle fingers as he leans in, in, in - and holds the tip of it to the flame cupped in Lan Wangji’s fingers.

Lan Wangji tucks one ankle carefully in front of the other and settles in with a relieved little sigh, the weight of years lifted from his shoulders in the moment between Wei Wuxian lighting his cigarette and flickering his heated gaze up to meet his, eyes glinting with the warmth of the flame.

Lan Wangji flips the lid of the lighter over to snuff out the fire with another metallic little click, fingers clutching tight around the cool metal of it nestled in his palm. Wei Wuxian breathes deeply, takes the cigarette from his lips, and turns his head to the side to exhale again.

“Lan Zhan-” he chokes, his gaze fixed on the bare expanse of wall beside them. “I can’t-”

“My wife is a lesbian,” Lan Wangji blurts, panic moving him to speak bluntly. Heated glances and mutual understanding, one queer man to another, are all well and good, but he also knows that Wei Wuxian is a good man, a righteous man - he won’t step anywhere close to what he sees as an unforgivable breach of trust, but Lan Wangji can’t lose him. Not now, not ever. He can force himself to speak clearly for the sake of something so vital. Wei Wuxian will keep him safe. “She had her coming out just recently. Friday evening.”

Wei Wuxian looks up at him again sharply, eyes wide with quick understanding.

“Mianmian?”

“Wen Qing’s girlfriend of three months, as of this week.”

Wei Wuxian exhales shakily and takes another fortifying drag off his cigarette - and the moment he does he seems to remember just how it was lit, and by whom, and his cheeks flush the deepest red Lan Wangji has seen on him yet.

“And you, Lan Zhan?”

“Pleased that my wife has found a lover to make her happy. And…” Lan Wangji swallows down years of shame, embarrassment, longing for something he’d never hoped to have in order to add, “I believe it is time I allowed myself to find my own.”

Wei Wuxian stares up at him for a breathless eternity, and then in quick succession he tosses his cigarette down to the floor to grind the lit end between his boot and the wood, jerks to his feet, and then his hands are on Lan Wangji again, firmer than before and without the excuse of the tape measure to mask his intention. Lan Wangji releases the mirror and the lighter clatters to the floor beside their feet in favor of having his hands free to reach towards the other man, to cup Wei Wuxian’s jaw, both hands curled tightly against that beloved face so he can pull him in and kiss him with barely-controlled hunger. There isn’t an ounce of hesitation left in either of them as their mouths meet, parted and perfect.

Lan Wangji may take a long time to make up his mind, but when it’s made he does nothing by halves; now that he knows what it feels like to have Wei Wuxian melted against his chest, lips soft and open in eager permission for Lan Wangji’s clumsy, amateur kisses, he knows he can never live happily without it again.

#the untamed fanfic #wangxian #mianqing #Wen Qing/Luo Qingyang #Lan Wangji #Wei Wuxian #Wen Qing #Luo Qingyang #artwork embedded with Ceru's permission #I have some slightly meta thoughts about this chapter and wangxian's dynamic here that I can post separately if y'all want #it's a little too much for the tags #Oh also the little aside about the neighbor Margaret - lots of sapphic women throughout history were married to men #who were none the wiser about their wives' desires #either out of safety or internalized heteronormativity or whatever #the reasons are as numerous as there are people who chose to do that #but gay spaces - in particular sapphic spaces - were frequented by many closeted women who were currently or had previously been married #to a man #I didn't want to get through this fic without giving a nod to these women who are so so so important to lesbian/bisexual history

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actualbird · 3 years ago

Note

may i raise: artem mr 99% win rate senior attorney at 28 or whatever wing, driven to full blown laughter in the nxx headquarters. the reason: some dumb joke luke says that just so happens to cater to artem's Oddly Specific Sense of Humor

I LOVE THIS ASK SO MUCH BECAUSE I LOVE HUMOR. and humor theory, humor studies, linguistics of humor, senses of humor, just, oh man, you hit something here, anon. im kind of sorry for what this answer is going to be because i have thoughts and by god am i going to tell you all of them

i like to think a weird little thing happens, among the NXX Investigation Team: marius wants to know what exactly can make the other members of the team lose their fucking marbles.

mc was his first target and she was very easy to crack. she likes videos of animals doing cute yet silly things and was brought to wheezing laughter at a video of a golden retriever valiantly trying so hard to catch food in his mouth but missing every single time. with further prodding, marius also finds out shes into memes and jokes from medias shes familiar with.

vyn was next and he took a bit of thinking, from marius. marius needed to get vyn right on the first try because he's sure that if he fails once, vyn will give him THE most smarmy unimpressed expression ever and marius will have to be physically held back from punching him in the face. so he thinks about vyn's personality and background, thinks about maybe psychology jokes, but then marius comes to a conclusion that he believes enough to hazard a try. one day, when he and vyn are waiting in the nxx meeting room, marius sends him a tweet. with bated breath, he watches vyn notice it, open it, and then emit just the softest little "hehehe"

which, from vyn, is honestly as boisterous as his laughter is ever going to get.

the cause of the laughter? that video of a dude being pushed from a platform into the dark abyss, his scream echoing, from the Perfectly Cut Screams twitter.

because vyn is like, insane.

marius decides to leave artem for last (because duhhh marius has barely seen artem smile, is he even capable of laughter?? artem is going to be marius' Boss Level, he goes last) so next on the laugh train is luke.

but luke has figured out that marius is on a mission and luke, an arrogant shithead in his own way, refuses to let marius break him.

marius wants to STRANGLE LUKE. marius has sent him memes of olde, memes of new, comedy sketches, tiktok compilations, vine compilations, and luke does not laugh. marius is damn sure he would have, at some of those things, but luke is Refusing To Laugh and marius is so close to challenging him to like, a duel (shut up, he doesnt know okay, hes frustrated and he doesnt know how to express that like a normal person, get off his back) or something.

marius gets so desperate that he even resorts to what he thinks is the most groan-worthy form of humor: puns

very specific puns, because today marius is testing his theory that maybe luke's nerditude will betray him. puns about engineering and natural science, theyre all TERRIBLE but marius continues because he WILL WIN, GODDAMNIT and

theyre outside of the courthouse, waiting for mc to finish up (she just had a trial and she was awesome, as per usual, queen shit) so marius, vyn, luke, and artem are idling outside, and while waiting. marius is telling puns to luke. aggressively.

"you can give up, you know," luke smiles sweetly. "no shame in that."

"fuck you, next pun," marius scowls. "a raven has 17 primary wing feathers. these feathers are called pinions. and the crow only has 16 of those feathers. so the difference between a crow and a raven is..." marius winces. "...only a matter of a pinion."

"okay," luke says, and marius wants to punch him sooooo baaaad. "not only does that pun suck but it's also just. objectively wrong. both crows and ravens only have 10 primaries---"

"shut the hell up, birdbrain."

"---among those 10 primaries there a few that are longer and more distinct than the others, kind of looking like fingers, so to speak. crows have 5 evident finger feathers---"

"oh my god"

"---wheareas ravens only have 4. so i guess with some editing, the joke could still work. a more sound version though would be to compare crows and song sparrows, which do have the correct difference in primaries and---"

marius is about to flick luke in the forehead, but hes stopped by the strangest sound.

the sound of somebody having an asthma attack but like, through a kazoo or something.

marius, luke, and vyn turn to where artem is and he is, inexplicably, losing his shit. he continues to lose his shit actually for like 30 whole more seconds before he calms down enough to look up at everybody who is in turn looking at him like he's grown a second head.

"what?" artem says, puzzled.

"why the fuck were you laughing?" marius asks.

"because it was...funny," artem says as if this is obvious when it is NOT and then everybody in that moment realizes

that what makes artem laugh seems to be the act of over explaining jokes itself.

(and before anybody sends a follow up ask, marius' favorite joke is bofa.

artem scrunches his eyebrows. "what is bofa?"

marius grins, absolutely fucking DELIGHTED.)

#tears of themis #marius von hagen #artem wing #luke pearce #vyn richter #hc

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writingsfromhome · 3 years ago

Text

Crystal Clear

A/N: Here’s some fluff, friends to lovers I’ve had going on while I work on something bigger :))

----------------------------------------

“Y/N,” a strange man calls my name. I look him up and down but I don’t think I know him.

“Who’s asking?”

“Y/N, it’s me? Harry.”

“Oh,” I laugh and greet him how I would have if I’d recognized him under all those layers, in a great big hug. “Your disguise is brilliant!”

“It’s not a disguise,” he says into his coat. “It’s bloody cold here.”

“Coldest day so far,” I accept the hot chocolate from the vendor and ask him for another, Harry could use one, poor thing. His plans this week were changed last minute, and since he was in New York City where his best childhood friend lived, he decided to actually hang out with me. Ever since he got famous, it was hard to catch time with him.

“Did the cold freeze all the English out of you? You’re not even wearing mittens,” Harry accepts his own cup from the vendor.

“I’m got them in my pocket,” I point to the bulge on the side of my coat as we step aside and make our way deeper into the winter festival that was at Bryant Park. “Don’t insult me, I can still make a better cup of tea than you ever could.”

“There she is,” I hear the smile in Harry’s voice more than I see it. It truly was ridiculous--not only was he wearing the thickest parka I’d ever seen, he also had on a beanie and a scarf, as well as knit gloves that held tightly to his hot chocolate.

“I’m always here, you’re just too busy to see me.”

“Not this again,” he groans. I was always giving him grief every time he touched down to NYC but didn’t pop by for a visit. I knew he had a hectic schedule, and even though I wasn’t that bothered I still liked to tease him.

“It’s true, you come to the city so often but I see you once a year. And maybe again when I’m in London if I get lucky.”

“I’m busy Y/N, I talk to you all the time!”

“I know,” I elbow him. “I just like to rile you up.”

“Well now that you’ve got that out of your system,” he tugs my hat over my eyes. “Where are we going next?”

I push it back up, “I thought we could just wander the shops, then get on the skating rink if you’re not frozen to death.”

“Alright I’ve got to pick some gifts up anyway let’s see what’s here.”

We make a good team as we visit stands selling ornaments and kitschy decor, handmade gifts, and hot cider. We sift through exactly what we might want, or what the other’s looking for. And with the light dusting of snow coming down, and the bright lights strung around the Park, it was like walking in a Christmas movie.

“Look at this,” I point ahead. We’d nearly visited all the stands and holiday shops but a festive psychic advertises their services in a small glass booth. “Should we?”

“It’s a waste of money,” Harry scoffs. “She’s just going to read your body language.”

“She might be the real deal-”

“You can’t be serious-”

“C’mon!” I tug his gloves hand and it takes a few but he stumbles towards me. It’s slightly warmer inside and I notice the space heater running in the corner. “At least it’s warm” I whisper to Harry.

“You really want to do this?” He asks one last time.

“It’s just $10-”

“$20 for the two,” the woman almost shifts out of the wall and I hide my jump with a laugh. There’s a curtain behind her, I realize, she must have stepped out.

“It’s just me,” I clarify.

She eyes Harry and Harry eyes her back. “You look familiar.”

“Just have that face,” he shrugs, burrowing into his scarf. “I’m just here to watch.”

She stares at him a moment longer before settling at the small table. I flash Harry a smile before sitting down myself, setting my bags onto the floor.

“Palm reading, cards, what will it be dear?” The psychic asks. I remember the sign out front said cards would be more than having my palm read so I opt for the cheaper option.

“Hm,” she says thoughtfully as she traces the lines on my palm. I wriggle my eyebrows at Harry and he rolls his eyes, but he stays watching her like a hawk. It was cute how overprotective he got sometimes. The psychic glances up to catch him watching her, she then glances at me and tilts her head.

“I see longevity, in life and love, a few bumps but you’re a strong persistent woman.”

Harry grumbles behind me and I resist the urge to say something to him.

“I see success after hard, hard work. But a big success that will change the course of your career.”

“Wow, how soon?” I ask.

“Mmm, after a big milestone. Turning 30?” she continues to examine my hand. “I see a second life later in life, with kids...just one no maybe two children.”

“How about her love life?” Harry asks. “Her last love s’not too nice.”

“Seriously Harry?” I turn to glare this time. He’s grinning with flushed cheeks, knowing it was a sore spot he liked to say i told you so to. It was true, he had told me so about my 3 year relationship but I’d ignored him.

“Your love life,’ the woman speaks up. “Shows me two great loves. One cuts short, the other is as long as your life line.”

“Ooh,” I lean in, interested. “I think I know about the one that was cut short. Tell me about the second!”

“This second...” she traces my palm and I feel a tingle. “This second love is very close, a bit rocky but it will last.”

“A bit rocky?”

“Hm,” she chews her bottom lip. “Time, distance...it will make it rocky. But it lasts.”

“So how close is close?” I ask eagerly.

“Close,” she says with a smile that tells me I wasn’t getting anything else out of her.

“That’s a bit vague isn’t it?” Harry pipes up from the back.

“The future isn’t always crystal clear,” she says without looking up at him.

“Lay off,” I scold him.

“It’s okay, I get nonbelievers all the time.” She laughs. “That will be $10 dear.” When I hand her the bill she stops me as she takes it. “A little free advice?”

“Sure.” I pick up the bags I placed on the floor earlier.

"Don’t be so focused on the life you want that you don’t see the life you have around you.”

“I’ve actually told her that before,” Harry decides we want more of his unsolicited opinions. “Maybe there is something true to all of this.”

“Thanks,” I pocket her words for later. Harry was right, he’d said something along those lines to me before, especially when it came to giving up control and going with the flow on trips and events with him. I always declined his offers, we lived a modest life growing up and accepting these gifts from him always felt so excessive. I wanted to make my own way in the world, but Harry always had something to say. “And sorry for his attitude, he’s not always this rude.”

“Yeah,” Harry shifts forward. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m a lot nicer usually.”

“I know,” she smiles.

“She’s psychic,” I remind him.

“I’m also online,” she laughs. “Can I get a picture?”

Harry eyes me, before going in for a selfie with her. I know he usually didn’t mind getting asked in smaller settings but he’d admitted it was something he was still getting used to. It had been a couple years since he became so famous, in such a short amount of time I went from being able to go down to a local pub with my best friend to schedules and security details and a whole other list of complications. Sometimes I hated it, mostly I was happy for him.

“Another day, another fan.” I tell Harry after we walk away from the psychic and he flips me off. “Should we get something to eat and get out of the cold?”

“God yes,” Harry shivers. “Can we just go to yours?”

“Let’s go,” I loop my arm through Harry’s.

Harry wants instant warmth so he hails a cab and we pick up takeout once we reach my neighbourhood. Harry had been here a few times, my roommate had gotten used to the fact that I was best friends with him, and sometimes he preferred to stay here when he wanted to be anonymous. Paparazzi sometimes crowded outside his hotel when word leaked he was there.

We eat ourselves into a food coma and Harry decides to stay the night, not wanting to face the cold again. Since our living room couch sprained his neck the only time he’d slept there, he usually crashed in my bed. His head barely hits the pillow before he’s snoring, I guess the jet lag finally caught up.

***

I jerk out of sleep, a crashing noise followed by swearing catches my attention.

“I think your roommate dropped something,” I hear from beside me. I turn my face to get a facefull of Harry’s thigh tattoos.

“Y’think?” I croak and shift backwards to see his face. He’s sitting up in bed and scrolling through his phone.

“Guess which psychic is officially internet-famous?” Harry asks dryly.

“Hm?” I’m still calming my heart from waking up so suddenly so it takes a moment to register Harry’s words. “What?”

He shoves his phone in my face, the selfie he took with the psychic yesterday is posted on social media with over half a million likes. He swipes away and a lot of his tag is filled with news outlets and fan accounts spamming the picture. He pulls it back to read a heading: “Harry Styles visits Psychic for ideas on his next album. There’s also Harry Styles rumored to be connected to the Occult...I don’t know what that means. Psychic tells all on Harry Styles reading.”

“How did that picture circulate?” I rub my eyes and sit up beside him. “And where is all of this coming from?”

“She has a Twitter, and she posted the picture.” He shows me, it’s there with the caption A handsome face showed up to my booth at the Bryant Park Market tonight. Get your future told, 5pm to 9pm 7 days a week.

I can’t help but laugh, she was a business woman and she really took the opportunity to sell her service.

“It’s not funny Y/N,” Harry looks furious so I cover my mouth and squint at his screen as he scrolls. A ton of people are responding asking about his future or what he came there for. Amongst them, she responds to only one person: His love life was involved.

My jaw drops, “That’s such a lie! She read me my love life, and life lines!”

“I told you she was a fraud,” Harry jerks the phone back to him.

“She lied for sales, but doesn’t mean she didn’t tell the truth yesterday.”

“If she lied about this she lied about it all and you wasted $10. She only talked about your love life, not mine...”

I remember her words, my second love was very close...could she have meant...

I glance at Harry and he seemed to have followed the same train of thought because we lock eyes, his probably just as wide as mine.

“D’you think?” he says just as I say “Was she...?”

We immediately burst out laughing as the tension comes to a head and bubbles over in a safe trickle.

“Is that what she was trying to say?” I say when I’ve finally caught my breath, my stomach hurt from laughing this hard.

“I guess when she said close she meant close,” Harry’s flat on his back from laughing. “Quite literal.”

“And you were calling her out on being so vague.”

“I’ve got to give it to her,” he shuts his phone off and throws it onto the covers between us, releasing the annoyance. “She’s a good businesswoman.”

“I was thinking the same thing but I thought you might kill me if I said that,” I admit.

We lay on the rumpled covers in silence, I think about everything else she said. The potential of it all is tarnished by the idea of Harry being my second love, for life. It was so ridiculous, unless by love she meant the way I love him now. As my best friend. Our lives were so different, there was no way it could ever work. Not to mention...he was my best friend since forever.

“Have you ever thought about it?” Harry asks out of the blue.

“Thought about what?” I prop myself on my elbow.

“Us, like...the way she predicted?”

“Together together?” I can’t help but laugh. “No never, you’re my best friend!” I recognize the flash of hurt so I backtrack a little. “No offense Harry, I love you but could you imagine?”

“I have,” he says it so quietly as I lay back down. “What?” I ask. He shrugs, “I’m surprised you haven’t. We’ve been friends since...we were 7. You’re saying you never thought about it?”

“No,” I shake my head. “Actually I haven’t. When...what did you think about?”

“I dunno,” he fiddles with his rings. “Like for school dances, when I didn’t have a date I thought about asking you as more than a friend...thought about where that could lead. Or every time you had your heart broke. I wanted to take the pain away and just show you what you deserved.”

“Harry I...” it was sweet, what he was saying. But he never gave a single clue about it the entire time we grew up. He was always chasing girls who looked nothing like me, so I always thought that’s what his type was. Never did I think about anything more with him.

“Not-not recently though,” he forces a laugh. “Just when we were kids.”

“That’s sweet Harry. I had no idea.”

He shrugs, and sits up.

“No seriously I...that’s so sweet. But just so you know, you have shown me what a good man can be. Just by being the best friend ever.”

“Aw,” he swipes my cheek as he gets up. “That’s cute. I don’t know if I’ve done such a good job when you’ve only dated knobs.”

I could recognize his defense mechanism--turning it into a big joke. But he leaves the room before I can call him out and I’m left sitting in the mess of what he’d just told me. It’s not that it was awkward or a bad thing, but suddenly it felt tense and the tension triggered an anxious feeling in my chest.

I decide to get out of my room and find my roommate cleaning up the remains of her broken mug. I offer to clean the spill as she dresses to go out for her run. Helping her distracts me, and when I hear Harry leave the bathroom I lock myself in, and try some breathing exercises to clear the anxiety creeping up. When I realize I was trying to avoid Harry, I scold myself. This was ridiculous and funny! Harry wanted to ask me out when we were kids, it was cute, and that was it. The psychic was a fake anyway, nothing she said meant anything.

I head back to my room where Harry’s made the bed. I change into trousers and my favourite fisherman sweater, and find him having coffee at our small kitchen table with his phone on speaker as he talks to someone. His legs barely fit underneath, so they’re sprawled to the side. He’s still shirtless, and my attention snags on his torso.

I shake myself out of my thoughts as I bump into the kitchen island, and glance up to see that although he was talking to the person on the phone, his eyes had been on me...while my eyes were on his abs. Oh god, I cringe. I try to act casual, mouthing if he wanted breakfast but he shakes his head and points to the call he’s having.

I make myself a toast and try to ignore what just happened but it only adds to the tension from this morning. When he gets off his call he brings his cup up to the sink.

“I think I need another cup.”

“Be my guest,” I move aside. “You sure you don’t want breakfast?”

“Are you going to feed me avocado flax seed quinoa toast?” he teases.

“There’s no quinoa.” I correct, crossing my arms. “But...yes.”

“I’ll take this banana,” he holds the lone banana on the counter. “I’ve got to be in East Harlem by noon, that’s what the call was about.”

“Aw,” I hated saying goodbye. “Are you busy the rest of your stay?”

“I can make it back here,” he says.

“Do whatever you need to do,” I say. “I’m used to being discarded after you hang out with me in the city.”

“I don’t do that!” he reaches behind me to slot his cup in and set the machine to grind his beans. I can smell my shampoo on him, he must’ve showered. “If you want me back, you can just say that.”

The morning sunlight streaming through the kitchen window leaves no room for shadows; the shift in the mood is clear as the daylight streaming in. Or maybe I was reading too much into his words.

“I always want you back,” I look up to his height now that he’s standing so close, and the kitchen tightens further.

We’re stuck in a tableau; with my back against the fridge looking up at him as he gazes down with a curious expression. My mind grows blank the longer I stare. No one says a word, the sound of beans grinding the only noise in the kitchen.

My best friend in the whole world looks torn standing in front of me like this, and as my senses slowly rush back I realize that even if my expression doesn’t show it...I was torn. Because out of nowhere, all I can think about are all the questions I ever shoved away in the dark: what would it feel like if I kissed him right now? And what would have happened to us if he had asked me out to our school dance? Would we still be best friends? Would we have cut each other out? How many universes were we still good together like this? How many universes were we good together as more than this?

An urge to touch his face, make sure this was real, takes over me. But as soon as my fingers brush his cheek he snaps out of his trance and stumbles back like I’d burned him.

He forces a laugh. “I really do need that coffee.”

“Right,” I turn to the machine to put the grinds into their slot but I yank too hard and the freshly ground coffee flies out towards me. “Shit!”

“What happ-” Harry takes one look at what’s happened and turns away, his shoulders shaking.

“I can see you right in front of me laughing!” I shout. “Help me!”

“It’s all over you Y/N,” he turns around, tears in his eyes. “Give me this, I’ll put it far away from you.” He takes the remaining grinds and sets it down. I brush away what’s closest to my eyes so I can see and try to shake it off my sweater but they stick to the fibers of the knit.

“Great,” I grumble. “This is dry clean only.”

“It’s in your hair,” he runs his fingers through the strands that hang over my shoulder. I shake my head to dislodge the grinds; his fingers brush my neck away and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Uhm, that should be most of it.”

“It’s not out of this sweater,” I pout. “Screw dry clean, why did I think I could buy dry cleaning clothes?”

“I can drop it off on the way out today?” he offers.

“That means you’re coming back to drop it off to me?!” I ask hopefully.

His expression softens, “Y/N I’m coming back to your flat. I promise.”

“He promises!” I shout. Even though things were a bit awkward this morning, I got to spend more time with my hard-to-catch best friend and for that I was over the moon.

“We could also try to vacuum the sweater?” Harry suggests.

“So you don’t have to come back with dry clean?” I tease. “I’m not letting you get out of your promise, let me give it to you before you change your mind.” I tug my top off and ball it up, shoving it in his hands. It falls to the floor when he doesn’t hold it.

“Hello?” I look up and he’s a deer in the headlights. “Harry...”

“I can’t do this right now,” he takes a step back. I get the sweater from the ground and hold it out to him again.

“Do you want to wipe the kitchen floor with the sweater too? Take it!” I sigh. “Harry are you really acting so chaste about seeing a girl in her bra?”

“It’s-” he decides to stop mid-word. “You’re not just any girl Y/N, I’ve already made it clear.”

Now it’s my turn to stare--he hadn’t made it clear. “You said you only felt something when you were younger...”

“And you believed me?”

I realize I didn’t, but I wanted to believe him so I hadn’t questioned it. “Well it’s not the first time you’ve seen me in a bra. Can you take the damn sweater?”

“Yeah I can I’m just...” he seems to calm down a bit, enough to step towards me and take it. “I didn’t have to face this conflicted feeling in me if I didn’t see you often. I can just be the best friend. But now, with the whole psychic thing and you in--like this in your kitchen and I--I’m remembering how much I just want to...”

“Kiss me,” I say.

“Yeah...” he looks away.

“No, I’m telling you to kiss me.” I clarify. His expression would’ve made me laugh if my heart wasn’t beating so fast. I couldn’t believe I was being this impulsive.

“Really? You’re not just saying that cuz of this morning?”

“Fine,” I step out of his reach and cross my arms to hide my shaking hands. “If you don’t want to kiss me-”

He pulls me back too quickly and I bump into his chest. “I never said that.” He says in a tone I’d never heard from him before, it’s serious and sexy and it sends tingles through my body. I press myself up against him and he finally, finally, kisses me. Every bit of tension and anxiety the day had built up releases in the single moment his lips cover mine.

How had I waited this long?

The kiss is gentle, delicate like he’s still not entirely sure I want the same thing he does. I show him I do by using my tongue to open his mouth slowly and the hesitation disappears immediately. We’re a fighter jet taking off from there; I don’t know where I end and where he begins as he walks me to the kitchen island and lifts me onto it, our limbs tangling together, His hands roam down the side of my body, but he stays in the safe zones until I unclasp my bra.

“Oh hell no,” my roommate’s voice interrupts us from behind. I hold my bra close and turn. She stands at the entryway, shaking her head. “Not here. Not on our kitchen island. You two have a room literally 10 feet away...”

“Oops,” I say quietly which seems to set Harry off. My roommate is still shaking her head but I see the smile on her face. I’d caught her hooking up on multiple occasions so it wasn’t anything new. But I didn’t do this often. I jump down, apologizing to her. “Harry’s going to clean the coffee off the floor...I-I’ll find a shirt.”

“Mhm,” she closes her bedroom door and I look over at Harry who’s crouching on the floor in tears.

“This is all your fault!” I whisper but he tugs me down to where he is and holds my face as he kisses me.

“I know you two aren’t behind the island,” my roommate’s voice comes out again. I stay there as her footsteps move to the bathroom and the door closes behind her.

“I hate you,” I skirt out of his reach, and rush to my room yelling another sorry as I head back and find a top. Harry appears in my room as I put it on.

“I guess that was a good time for her to walk in on before it got too far?” he still has a stupid grin on his face.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” my cheeks were burning and even more so that Harry was elated.

“I’ve actually got to head out now.”

I pout but he kisses my pout instead. He promises he’ll be back in the evening and I let him go with one more kiss, my mind catching up with everything that just happened.

Oh my god.

***

It’s nearly 8 by the time I’m done running all my errands--taking holidays off for work was usually a good decision for me. I had a big family and picking up all the holiday bits before I flew back home was always a big job. I take an Uber home, I couldn’t handle a 40 minutes trip back home carrying everything home on the subway.

I call out to my roommate when I get in but she doesn’t respond. I check her door and it’s open and dark, the bathroom is also empty. She must have evening plans.

I open my door to a surprise. Harry is sprawled on my bed. He jerks awake when I settle my bags down.

“Y/N?” he squints as I turn the light on.

“How did you get in here?” I shrug my coat off.

“Y’roommate let me in before she left,” he rubs his eyes. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep...I had a whole thing planned.”

I’d gone over the whole morning during my errands, surprised and excited and nervous about this new step for us. But I continued to think about what the psychic said, our love lines extended alongside my life line. Even though there wasn’t much comfort or trust in a psychic who used a photo opp as a marketing opp, what she said had come true. And I put my faith in that, calming my nerves about this new step potentially ruining our friendship forever.

“Was that okay?” Harry sits up. “She didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Oh no that’s fine,” I unwrap my scarf and stand at the foot of my bed. “I really wasn’t sure if you were coming back.”

“Of course I would,” he reaches for my hand. “I wouldn’t leave you after this morning, I’m not that flighty.”

“Well we never really got to talk about it,” I say as I sit down. I’d texted him during the day but it never showed he read it, I wasn’t sure how to read into that; finding him passed out on my room meant he was probably on the go all day.

“Are you okay with this?” he says with such concern, I nearly tear up. This was making me way too emotional.

“I am,” I smile at my best friend in the whole world. “I just don’t want to go too fast.”

“We won’t,” he promises as he holds his arms out. I lean in towards his solid chest and he wraps his arms around me. I feel his breath on my cheek, then his lips in my hair. “I’m yours for eternity Y/N, we can take it as slow or fast as you want.”

It was a good thing to say, and I believe him entirely.

We eventually untangle ourselves to get food in us, and even though things are different, they’re also not. We still pick out the same parts of our food to give the other person, we still talk the same shit and laugh at the same jokes. But his hands grasps mine and his thumb brushes over my knuckles absentmindedly. His eyes stay steady on me as I talk like I’m someone new he’s exploring. We kiss after dinner, but we also load the dishwasher and laugh about the one time I’d managed to burn soup from a can. Eventually we end in my bedroom, where we lay together, our conversation growing quieter by the minute, the space between us growing smaller.

And even though we’d slept like this a hundred times before, it’s different now. I can feel it in every atom of my being, I was his and he was mine. And I don’t know how long it’s been like this for it to feel so easy, but accepting it was a no brainer, like accepting the sky was blue or the sun was hot. I remember the advice the psychic gave, I was following it: living the life I had around me even though it wasn’t the life I thought I would have.

There were a million things Harry and I had to figure out to make this work--I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. But I did know that it was right, it was true, and it was going to be forever.

The future may not be crystal clear, but my future with this man was.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #fic #writingsfromhome #friends to lovers #standalone #holiday fic #ignore any grammar or errors pls ty

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zainclaw · 4 years ago

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Hello. I am a new symbrock shipper and i really appreciate your posts of the excerpts from the comics. But i was wondering which part of the comic people said the writer (the cates one) erased some kind of part about the eddie & venom? It gets me curious somehow and was wondering if you knew about this.

...I’ve actually been expecting someone to ask me about this, sooner or later. Kinda been dreading it, tbh XD But here goes.

(This is quite a long and serious answer, and I totally get if not everyone wanna read this, but as more and more people are becoming interested in the Venom comics, I do think this is an important thing to address.)

This is also a conversation about fandom.

*deep breath*

First of all. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and just like some people might be upset with the writers of a tv-show when things take a turn they don't agree with, some people are upset with the changes Donny Cates did when he took over the Venom comics after Mike Costa. Yes.

But here’s the thing:

The Venom comics have had many writers (and artists) over the years. I mean, jesus christ, the Venom symbiote’s very first appearance was back in 1988. That’s over 30 fucking years ago, people. At this point, I don’t think it’s realistic to expect the feel of the story to be the same under every single writer that comes on. I just don’t.

In 1996 Len Kaminski gave us Eddie and his symbiote holding hands and giving each other chocolate gifts with love hearts and the line “it’s not human, but it’s given me things no girlfriend ever could” in The Hunger. Then, 20 years later, in 2017-2018, we had Mike Costa give us Eddie calling the symbiote ‘my love’ and ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ and refer to their partnership as a relationship and finally made them have a baby together in First Host.

(I strongly recommend using my masterlist of comics excerpts as a timeline here to understand what the hell I’m talking about.)

Sure, Cates hasn’t had Eddie calling the symbiote ‘my love’ or ‘darling’ since he took over. I guess you could say he “removed” that. Do I miss that part? Yeah. Of course. But as far as I know, no one had Eddie and the symbiote hold hands again in the 20 years following The Hunger, either. Different writers have told different stories, chose to focus on different things.

Cates chose to go down a very angsty route. To, for example, bring back the topic of the Venom symbiote having a past with Flash Thompson, of sometimes wanting to be with him more than Eddie, and feeling torn about who to choose, and Eddie’s pain and jealousy over that. This is something Mike Costa barely touched on during his run. Costa wanted domestic bliss, so that’s what he did. But that doesn’t remove past canon. Not for him, or anyone else.

I’ve said this before - have basically warned people who’ve come to me saying they wanna start reading the comics because of my excerpts - but the comics are fucking angsty. There’s a reason I’ve made a point of posting Symbrock highlights from the comics, rather than just say “read the comics, they’re just never-ending domestic Symbrock bliss” because they’re not.

Eddie Brock is not a happy man, and his relationship with the Venom symbiote has been obsessive, possessive and unhealthy at times. They have grown a lot and come a long way over the years, but this has always been a part of their canon. Eddie’s fear of being alone, of being the symbiote’s second choice.

This side of them is part of why I, personally, find their relationship so intriguing. How they can’t stay away from each other, even though they're both so flawed and not always good “people”, and don’t really know how to keep their relationship healthy.

And I think Cates must have felt the same way, because he’s chose to dive into Eddie as his own person. He’s made Eddie face his demons, his past, deal with his fear of being alone and do a lot of growing in ways I haven’t seen him do in any previous comics. He wanted to tell the story of Eddie Brock, to perhaps let him become a better person than he was, in order to make the relationship between him and the Venom symbiote better. And in my personal opinion, he’s doing a great job of that.

I’m very much against the “fandom hive mind” thing, and the thought of new people entering the Venom/Symbrock fandom and simply adopting the “we hate Donny Cates, he ruined the comics” mentality because they see so many other shippers feel that way, is so upsetting to me. I don’t like how entitled fans can become at times.

(I don’t know how many people who still follow me from my Teen Wolf days, but, damn, I’m embarrassed about a lot of stuff that went down between that fandom and the show runners/actors. It was a silly teenage show on MTV, and yet so many adults (myself included) thought they should have a say in where the story went, and not. It took me a long time to realize that, but there it is.)

Donny Cates did NOT deserve the hate he got from so many Symbrock shippers back in 2018. He’s NOT unfaithful to the story of Venom as a whole, and has NOT ignored previous canon. He openly spoke to and supported the Symbrock shippers on Twitter, before they tore him to pieces for not being Mike Costa. For, in their opinion, completely ignoring the loving nature of their relationship.

But like?

Cates is the one who gave us the Venom symbiote’s first “I love you, Eddie”. Cates is the one who gave us Eddie getting phantom limb syndrome from being apart from the symbiote. Cates is the only one, in my opinion, who’s given us SO many beautifully heartbreaking inner dialogues from Eddie like that about love and loss and longing, all referring to the Venom symbiote. Cates is the one who gave us the exchange “You found me” / “Always” that I’m still crying about.

My point being: I don’t think it’s fair at all to say that Cates has ignored the intimate relationship between Eddie and the symbiote. Because he hasn’t.

And it wouldn’t surprise me if, one day, when the Venom comics get a writer who actually doesn’t treat Eddie and the symbiote like romantic partners, people will look back on previous runs and say “wow I miss what Cates did.”

But,

I’m not here to convince anyone that Cates’ run is better than, or even as good as, Costa’s. I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to love every Venom comic that’s come out in the past 30 years written by several different writers. That’s unrealistic. You’re allowed to have a favorite Venom writer. You’re allowed to think that where Mike Costa’s comics ended, Eddie and the Venom symbiote’s story ended, for you. You’re also allowed to, like me, enjoy the angsty and slow burn story currently being told by Donny Cates.

You don’t have to hate Cates just because you’re a Symbrock shipper.

That’s all I wanted to say, more or less.

#symbrock #venom #idk how to tag #mike costa #donny cates #venom comics #venom comic #eddie brock

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 4 years ago

Text

The Immaturity of Thomas Astruc Masterpost

General Information

An Introduction…

What else has Thomas Astruc done?

What not to do when interacting with Astruc online (AKA, NO DEATH THREATS)

How did I get into Miraculous Ladybug?

My thoughts on the Season 5 Bible leak

Analysis of Astruc’s Online Behavior

#1: Chloe’s “Damnation Arc” That Was Totally Planned From the Start

#2: “Kung Food isn’t racist at all, why would you think that?”

#3: “I’ve done more for the entire comic book industry than anyone in 30 years!”

#4: There’s totally character development, you guys! You just don’t see it!

#5: The One With Astruc’s Self-Insert

#6: “How can you think a character named Ghetto Blaster could possibly be racist?”

#7: “Stop being mean to me on Twitter! I’ve never been mean to any of you!”

#8: “You want Adrien to get more focus? You sexist pig!”

#9: “Ladybug can’t be akumatized because I said so!”

#10: Felix, Part 1: Introduction

#10: Felix, Part Two: The Episode Itself

#11: “The New York special was supposed to be confusing! There wasn’t any cheating involved!”

#12: “Alya isn’t a bad friend! Is Krillin a bad friend for losing a fight to Majin Buu?”

#13: Return of the “Toxic” Chloe Fans

#14: “We’re introducing a new villain to the show! Wait, you think it’s anything other than a new form for Hawkmoth? You’re overthinking things, dude!”

#15: “The Simpsons doesn’t have a consistent timeline, so why should Miraculous Ladybug?”

#16: “I never insult people back! That’s it, you’re getting blocked!” (500 Follower Special)

#17: LGBT Representation in Miraculous Ladybug (Certain facts are wrong/inaccurate, so read at your own risk)

#18: “Adrien isn’t a boring character because he’s perfect! Why do you think people love Superman so much?”

#19: “Fan theories are ridiculous! Why can’t you understand how a Sentimonster works? The show isn’t that complicated!”

#20: “’Simpleman’ is the most meta episode of the entire show, and you’re just like a stupid old man if you don’t get it!”

#21: The Rising Sun Flag Controversy

#22: “Constructive Criticism Doesn’t Actually Exist! Only People Who Know a Lot About Animation Can Criticize My Show!”

#23: “The Miraculous Ladybug Movie May Give You What You Want, but My Show Gives You What You Actually Need! You Don’t Work in Television, so You Wouldn’t Understand.”

Other Stuff Astruc Has Said Online

The Time He Said His Team Had Better Character Designers Than Pixar

The Time He Criticized Wonder Woman 1984 for Things That Can Easily Be Applied to Miraculous Ladybug

The Time He Said He Based Marinette’s Parents off Himself and One of His Former Girlfriends

The Time He Acted Like His Show Was Morally Complex While Condemning One of His Characters As Pure Evil

The Time He Compared an “Antagonist” to Donald Trump (Yes, Seriously)

The Time He Blatantly Admitted Every Episode Has To Have Marinette Make a Mistake and Not Any of the Other Characters

The Time He Claimed Fans Were in Denial for Not Viewing One of His Characters the Exact Same Way He Viewed Her

The Time He Insulted Fans for Not Caring About One of His Characters Even Though He Barely Gave Her Any Focus or Development

The Time He Implied His Self-Insert in One Episode Was a Way To Make Fun of Himself and Not an Attempt To Get More Sympathy From Viewers Outside of the Show

The Time He Dismissed Fanfiction As “Not Real Writing”

The Time He Hinted a Character Was on the Autism Spectrum Without Actually Saying Who It Was or Even Bothering To Do an Episode About It

The Time He Heavily Implied the Character He Has an Irrational Hatred for Is a Complete Idiot Just to Give Her Another Bad Character Trait

The Time He Said Having an Obsessive Crush on Someone Counts as a Personality Trait

The Time He Compared Fans of One of His Characters To Abuse Apologists (OBVIOUS TRIGGER WARNING FOR DISCUSSIONS OF ABUSE HERE)

The Time He Yelled at People Online for Three Straight Days Because They Liked One of His Characters That He Hated

The Time He Dismissed the Dynamic of Opposites Attracting As Toxic Without Realizing That’s Literally What the Appeal of the Main Couple in His Show Is

The Time He Continued To Yell at People for Liking One of His Characters He Doesn’t Like While Implying She Isn’t the Victim of a Troubled Childhood and Should Be Treated as Evil Incarnate

The Time He Cited the Works of a French Psychologist To Explain Why a Character Is So Evil While Saying It Doesn’t Apply to Her Sister

The Time He Said He Wasn’t Racist Because Some of the Main Heroes in His Show Were People of Color

The Time He Said One Character’s Less Than Noble Actions Could Be Excused Because It Was His Superhero Alter Ego Doing It While Saying That Logic Didn’t Excuse What the Main Villain Does

The Time He Blamed a Character for Causing the Apocalyse Just for Giving Someone a Hat

The Time He Said That His Show Always Has To Revolve Around Romance

The Time He Blamed Two Characters of Color Having Whiter Skin in Their Hero Forms on an Animation Error

The Time He Acted as an Expert on the Climate Change Debate

The Time He Called Fans “Toxic” for Misinterpreting One of His Tweets About a Character While Clarifying It Wasn’t What They Thought It Was (Trigger Warning for Discussions of Incest)

The Time He Shot Down a Fanfic Writer’s Idea To Give a Character a Different Miraculous Because of “Symbolism”

The Time He Said the Main Villain Can’t Try Any of His Plans Again Because They All Failed Once (Ignoring Someone in the Show Was Akumatized 72 Times)

The Time He Claimed Every Akuma Victim Isn’t Brainwashed

The Time He Blamed Adrien for Being Uncomfortable When His Girlfriend Was Violating His Personal Space

The Time He Downplayed Marinette’s Obsession With Adrien

The Time He Ignored How Overpowered He Made a Single Miraculous

The Time He Claimed His Show Was More Popular Than Pokemon

IOTA Reviews (In Chronological Order)

Season 4

#1: Truth

#2: Lies

#3: Gang of Secrets

#4: Mr. Pigeon 72

#5: Psycomedian

#6: Furious Fu

#7: Sole Crusher

#8: Queen Banana

#9: Gabriel Agreste

#10: Mega Leech

#11: Guiltrip

#12: Crocoduel

#13: Optigami

#14: Sentibubbler

#15: Glaciator 2

#16: Hack-San

#17: Rocketear

#18: Wishmaker

#19: Simpleman

#20: Qilin

#21: Dearest Family

#22: Ephemeral

#23: Kuro Neko

#24: Penalteam

#25: Risk

#26: Strikeback

Miraculous Ladybug Season 4 – An Overview

Every Episode of Miraculous Ladybug Season 4 Ranked

Season 5

#1: Evolution

#2: Multiplication

#3: Destruction

#4: Jubilation

#5: Illusion

#6: Determination

#7: Passion

#8: Reunion

#9: Elation

#10/#11: Transmission and Deflagration (The Kwamis’ Choice)

#12: Perfection

#13: Migration

#14: Derision

#15: Intuition

#16: Protection

#17: Adoration

#18: Emotion

#19: Pretension

#20/#21: Revelation and Confrontation

#22/#23: Collusion and Revolution

#24: Representation

#25/#26: Conformation and Re-Creation (The Final Day)

#27: Action

Miraculous Ladybug Season 5 – An Overview

Every Episode of Miraculous Ladybug Season 5 Ranked Part 1/Part 2

Character Analyses

Master Fu: Master of Failure (200 Follower Special)

Lila Rossi: I’d Say She’s a Good Villain, but Then I’d Be Lying (300 Follower Special)

Gabriel Agreste: Interesting Villain, Horrible Character (400 Follower Special)

Other Miraculous-Related Musings

(Accidental 150 Follower Special) IOTA’s Top 10 Worst Episodes of Miraculous Ladybug (Part 1)

(Accidental 150 Follower Special) IOTA’s Top 10 Worst Episodes of Miraculous Ladybug (Part 2)

(Accidental 150 Follower Special) IOTA’s Top 10 Best (and By That, I Mean Personal Favorite) Episodes of Miraculous Ladybug

IOTA Reviews: Miraculous World: New York - United HeroeZ

What exactly makes “Chameleon” such a controversial episode in the fandom?

The Love Square - How Did It Lose Support In the Fandom? (Late 1000 Follower Special)

The Temp Heroes - Why They’re Not Exactly the Justice League (Late 1500 Follower Special)

IOTA Reviews: Miraculous World: Shanghai - The Legend of Lady Dragon (Late 2000 Follower Special)

Hope Morphin Q&A

#immaturity of thomas astruc #thomas astruc #thomas astruc salt #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt

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autumnsart22 · 4 years ago

Text

Suna x reader: Final part (smut)

Here’s the final part to my Suna series! I wasn’t satisfied with my fluff version of the ending (which you can read here if you’re interested) so I decided to write a more smutty version.

Warning: degradation, angry sex, light choking, mostly just a lot of degrading lol

I genuinely think this is the hottest fanart I’ve ever seen of him I can barely look at it without ✨butterflies✨.

Art creds go to @minghuaa_art on twitter!

Despite Kita seeing you that day in the car, Suna still asked to keep whatever was between you a secret. That was fine with you--you didn’t particularly want a boyfriend, especially with the second semester of college work picking up. You still got to see him pretty often, hooking up in his car or your dorm at least three nights a week or more. Never the frat house; apparently his roommates were annoying.

It was nice. Easy. Far easier than you ever expected friends with benefits to be. And beyond the sex, you loved talking to Suna; laying together on your tiny bed, legs tangled, while he explained the new music he was listening to, or walking together to the cafeteria as he made you laugh so hard that water came out of your nose.

The good parts were enough to overlook the bad parts. At first.

Suna was an abnormally horrific texter, barely ever responding within the day, if at all. If you ever wanted to get in contact with him, you’d have to call directly. And honestly even then he didn’t have the best track record.

What was more frustrating was that it was always on his time. He would text you asking to hang out that night, and you would say yes, and then he wouldn’t respond until the following afternoon with some vague excuse about being busy. The first few times it happened, you got so mad that you didn’t respond to his calls, until he showed up at your dorm with panda express and forced you to watch Tokyo Ghoul with him.

He had apologized...but it didn’t stop happening. It made you feel like you were some sort of side whore, who he called when he was bored and had nothing better to do. Like you were second best to everything else he had going on in his life.

You had promised yourself from the beginning that you wouldn’t allow yourself to get close enough to get hurt, but it was hard. You really, really liked him.

You liked the way he would stare at you while you talked, actually listening and curious as to what you had to say. You liked the way he hugged you after a few days of not seeing each other, burying his face in your hair like he couldn’t get close enough to you. You liked the way he laughed, both the usual, quiet chuckles and the rare snorting wheezes. You liked the way his mouth looked when he smoked, the way he moaned your name when he came, the way he could make you laugh at anything at any time.

You didn’t want to get the “I told you so” talk from Kiyoko, so you avoided the topic all together: with her, and yourself.

After one month of hanging out with Suna, you were planning on meeting up and going to see a movie. Both of you were more homebodies, preferring to stay in rather than party, but you had decided that you wanted to try and expand your horizons once again. The movies seemed like a happy compromise.

The film was something Suna had been talking about for a while, an action thriller that honestly looked like shit but got good audience reviews because of all the flashy fight scenes. He had been so excited when it came out that you hadn’t been able to say no to going, especially not after he pried you with food.

He was coming to get you at 6 pm, and your last class ended at 3pm, which gave you plenty of time to get ready. You stared at the face of your teacher on the screen within your zoom class, zoning out as he explained the flood system around the school. You glanced over as your phone buzzed, a message from Suna popping up on the screen.

Suna

Wha u doying rit now?

You

What?

Suna

Sorr little drynk

You

You’re drunk?

Suna

im at psrty

You

Are we still seeing a movie tonight?

There was no response, and you felt your stomach drop. You didn’t even notice as your teacher ended class and logged you off the meeting. Suna was at a party at 3 in the afternoon, drunk, and didn’t seem to remember you had plans. You swallowed, shoving your phone aside as you ground your teeth. Why was he so frustrating?

You stood up, angry at yourself for caring, furious at Suna for making you feel this way, for being such a piece of shit. You knew what party he was probably at--Kiyoko had said she was going at some point--and suddenly you were moving before you could think about it.

You dressed nice, but casual enough that it wasn’t out of place at a frat party. Sexy enough to make him want you though, of course.

You didn’t give yourself time for nerves as you strode from your dorm and headed in the direction of the frat house, following a steady stream of people already going in that direction. You knew it was Friday, but how the fuck were so many people already getting ready to party when it was literally 3:30????

It wasn’t overly crowded in the house when you entered, but enough where it was confusing as you wandered through the crowd. You snatched two drinks from the counter, downing them as fast as possible as you searched for Suna in the crowd. You’d need to be at least tipsy before having this confrontation.

You found him in the living room, sprawled out on the couch next to who you recognized to be Akaashi, Kuroo, Kita, and Iwaizumi--all who you knew through Kiyoko. There were a few others you didn’t know, and they were all clearly drunk out of their minds.

As you entered the room, Suna met your eyes for a brief moment, but then they moved on without a reaction. He didn’t care at all that you had come to find him, or that he had never responded to your text.

The drink in your hand trembled, and you walked out of the room without looking back.

Instead of talking to Suna, you decided to get wasted. An hour after first coming to the party, you were deep in a game of beer pong and you had a pleasant warmth in your gut, the world a little hazy. You felt braver, more angry, and suddenly all you wanted to do was track down that yellow eyed idiot and slap him.

“Where’s Suna?” You slurred, turning to look at your partner at beer pong. You knew him vaguely as one of the frat boys, Suna’s friend Atsumu.

Atsumu grinned, raising his eyebrows as he stared down at you. “Suna? Why?”

You weren’t drunk enough to tell him of your “friendship” with Suna, so you just shrugged.

“He’s over there,” Atsumu pointed towards the kitchen, and you felt all the blood drain from your face as you followed his gaze. Sitting in a chair, his back to you, was Suna...and on his lap was a beautiful blonde girl with her hands in his hair as she kissed him fiercely.

You must have made some sort of sound, because Atsuma looked back at you. “You good?”

You forced yourself to nod. “I’m...going to go get some fresh air.”��

“I’ll come,” he said, and you decided not to argue.

Seeing Suna had sobered you up considerably, but your emotions were still a complete mess. All you could feel was a deep, unending hurt.

As you headed down the hall, Atsumu grabbed your wrist and spun you around to face him. “So...you and Suna huh?” He said, a strange smile on his face.

“What are you--?”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to keep it a secret.” He took a step towards you, and you raised your eyebrows.

“We aren’t together.”

“Really? Then you wouldn’t mind,” He gently took your chin, lifting your face. “If I did this?”

“I--”

“What the fuck.”

All the breath wooshed out of you at the familiar voice, which was now laced with anger. Suna stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets as he watched you and Atsumu. He was smiling, but it was icy with rage and...jealousy?

“Suna,” Atsumu grinned, releasing your face but not stepping back. “What do you want?”

Suna jerked his chin in your direction. “How about you get away from her, and then we’ll talk?”

“Dude,” Atsumu rolled his eyes. “She just told me she was single. I don’t get what the problem is.”

Suna’s face tightened. “If you don’t get the fuck out of here in the next three seconds, I swear I will break your--”

“Chill, ok!” Atsumu stepped back from you, given you a frustrated look before heading away down the hall.

When he was out of sight, Suna’s head slowly turned to face you, his eyes dark. “Single?” His voice was a low snarl.

You swallowed, feeling your anger return full force. How dare he. “Yes!” You snapped, “Since you clearly don’t view this as any sort of relationship.”

“What are you talking about?”

“So you can go off kissing other girls, but I can’t flirt with Atsumu?”

“Looked like a bit more than flirting,” he said, teeth bared, before the other part of what you said caught up to him. “And how drunk are you? I wasn’t kissing shit!”

“Are you seriously lying to my face right now? I saw you!”

“I didn’t kiss anyone! Do you really think that little of me?”

You clenched your fists. “Atsumu said--”

Suna was in your face in a second, towering over you as he backed you against the wall. “What did he say?” He growled.

You clenched your jaw, glaring at him in silence.

Suna gave a dark chuckle. “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?”

You barely had time to react before he gripped your chin, kissing you roughly and shoving his tongue in your mouth. You moaned, and the sound snapped whatever restraints Suna had. His hands ran down the back of your thighs, lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you through the nearest door into a random bedroom. He kissed down your neck as he kicked the door shut, and you gasped as he tossed you on the bed.

Your eyes slid down his chest and across his toned stomach as he pulled his shirt over his head, completely at a loss for what to do. You could feel the heat pulsing between your legs, making your heart race and your body tremble. But this was wrong. Right?

You didn’t have anymore time to think about it as Suna gripped your ankles, dragging you to the end of the bed.

“Why do you still have clothes on?” He snarled, yanking your leggings off and leaving them in a tangled mess on the floor. His eyes darkened as they swept over the pair of lacy underwear you had worn, sliding towards your center where you kept your thighs clenched tightly together.

He didn’t say a word as he forced your legs apart, dropping to his knees at the end of the bed, yanking down your underwear, and positioning one of your legs over his shoulder. You shuddered as his hot breath caressed you, and he ran lazy circles along the inside of your thighs with his long fingers.

“Fuck…” He murmured under his breath before looking up at you. “Do you want me to--”

“Stop teasing me Suna,” you groaned, shifting your hips, and he laughed darkly.

“Fine.”

You practically screamed at the first sweep of his tongue, managing to turn your face into a pillow to muffle your noises as he worked around your clit and used his fingers in your core. You bucked your hips up into his face, and his laughter vibrating through your body almost had you coming within the first minute.

You let out a low cry of protest as he pulled away, raising his head to glare at you. His mouth was covered in your juices, his hair rumpled and eyes glassy. He leaned over you, yanking away the pillow you had been using to cover your mouth and throwing it across the room.

“What are you--”

“I want to hear you begging for it,” he snapped, and you managed to roll your eyes before he shoved his fingers back into you.

“You’re so--ah!” You shuddered.

Over the course of a month of fucking each other, Suna had figured out exactly how to make you fall apart under his tongue and fingers, so it didn’t take long for him to work you into an early climax. Your legs shook, and you let out a series of moans as you came all over his mouth.

He got to his feet after making sure he had licked you completely clean, gazing down at you with possessive smugness.

“Why do you look so fucked out already? We’ve barely gotten started.”

You didn’t even argue as you got onto your knees on the bed, hands sliding into his hair as you kissed him angrily, unsaid words erupting. He allowed you to shove him onto the bed, and you focused on unzipping his pants and throwing them aside, ditching your shirt and bra along with it. His boxers went next, and then you had his dick in your hands, stroking it while Suna groaned.

“Here,” he panted, tossing you a condom, and you slid it over his cock just like he taught you. You positioned yourself over him, impatient, your knees on either side of his hips as you thrust yourself down on him in one go. You both moaned at the feeling of finally having him inside you.

“F-fuck,” you gasped, slowly rolling your hips as you rested your hands lightly on Suna’s chest. You went slow, taking the time to feel how deep he reached inside you, the movement on your clit enough to send tingles up the rest of your body.

Suna watched you ride him lazily, his yellow eyes half closed as he took in the way your naked body shifted to move on top of him.

“Ha, you’re doing so good...god--you’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned, and you glared down at him.

“You make me so...mad…” You managed between pants of pleasure, and Suna raised his eyebrows.

“You can still talk? I guess I’m not doing enough…”

Before you could protest, he flipped you over so that you were lying on your back with him hovering over you, his dark hair falling around his face as he gripped your throat lightly.

“You’re such a little cumslut aren’t you?” He murmured in your ear, and you arched slightly. “Don’t you ever try and fuck someone else again, got it? You’re only allowed to come around my cock.”

You moaned in agreement, and Suna rolled you over onto your stomach, dragging your hips up so your ass was high in the air. He gave you no warning as he thrust back in, practically fucking you into the mattress.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he used his fingers to reach around and rub your clit, his other hand running along your breast. You could barely think through the pleasure, and the only coherent word you were managing to say was his name.

Suna leaned over you, yanking your head back to murmur in your ear. “You’re mine, got it?” His words were rough, and you clenched hard around his cock. You could feel your second orgasm approaching, and he could tell too by the way you shuddered around him. He paused in his motion, and you wiggled your hips in protest, trying to get him going again.

“Why’d you stop?” You snapped, glancing over your shoulder when he didn’t continue.

Suna grinned. “Beg for it, bitch.”

He moved slightly, letting you feel the friction, and you gasped in anger and pleasure. This bastard wanted to tease you, make you submit to him…

Despite knowing this, you broke almost immediately. “Please, Suna, please please, I need you so bad--”

Immediately, he picked up his pace once again, adding more pressure to your clit, and you jerked. “That’s a good girl.”

“Ah, ah, Suna, fuck, I love-- you, ahhh…” You cried, feeling moisture spill down your thighs as your stomach erupted for the second time that night.

For a moment he stilled, and you bit your lip in tired confusion. Did he want you to beg again? You weren’t sure you had another round in you.

You looked over to see him with a shocked expression on his face, but it quickly melted into smugness again once he caught you staring at him. “Of course you love me while I’m fucking you like this,” he growled finally. “It’s because you’re such a slut for it, right?”

Your mouth dropped open, but you didn’t have time to say anything as he started moving once again, making you yelp at the overstimulation. Had you said you loved him? Out loud? Oh my god…

“Have I fucked you stupid already?” he purred in your ear, pulling out of your dripping cunt before slamming back in and picking up his pace. You moaned loudly, thrusting your hips back to meet his as all thoughts flew from your head.

“S-Suna I--” You could barely speak, it felt so good, despite the fact that you had already come. Twice.

He began to pant in your ear, groaning as his grip on your hips tightened.“F-fuck--” He grunted, arms sliding around your waist as he jerked and came.

You both collapsed on the bed, sweaty and exhausted, and Suna easily pulled the condom from his dick before tying it and tossing it in the trash. After a long moment, you rolled to your feet to padded over to where your clothes lay--until you realized that your leggings had a massive rip in them.

“Suna!” You cried, holding up the fabric. He raised his eyebrows, and had the decency to at least look vaguely guilty.

“Sorry.”

“What do I wear?!”

“Here.” He threw the shirt he had been wearing earlier at you, and you gave him a glare.

He had already wiped himself down with the tissues on the counter, and had pulled on his sweatpants once again, leaving him shirtless. His eyes swept lazily down your still naked body, his tongue coming out to wet his lips, and you crossed your arms in annoyance.

“Suna,” You snapped, but finally pulled his shirt over your head, not seeing another option. “I’m going to go get cleaned up,” you said, before heading out the door without waiting for a response.

The bathroom was thankfully right down the hall, and thankfully empty. You didn’t feel very guilty about fucking Suna when you should have been communicating in a healthy way, but you definitely still felt mad.

After you had wiped all the fluids from your inner thighs and core, you headed back to the room to grab the rest of your stuff.

You found Suna on his phone lying on the bed, but he looked up as you came in.

“Where are you going?” He said as you gathered your stuff, and you huffed.

“Back to my dorm.”

“Wait,” he lunged out of the bed and grabbed your arm. “Don’t go.”

“Now you want to spend time with me?”

“Just...stay. Please.”

You swallowed, taking a deep breath. “Fine.”

His expression relaxed into a happy smile, and he dragged you onto the bed with him before flicking out the lights. You weren’t sure what time it was exactly, but you were sure it was far past two in the morning. Your eyelids drooped as Suna wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

You were right on the edge of sleep when he murmured, “Did you mean it?”

Immediately you were awake; you knew exactly what he meant. “U-um--” You hadn’t worked out any of the problems between you two, and you were sure he didn’t feel the same way. How were you supposed to admit to loving him like this?

“It’s fine,” he finally muttered. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”

You swallowed. “Yes. I did mean it.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but you felt Suna tense around you.

“Really?”

You closed your eyes, forcing yourself to say it. “Yes... I love you.”

You felt his sigh against your air, ticking the little hair on the back of your neck. His hand slid across your stomach while the other gently began to stroke your hair, and the movement had you relaxing despite the tears that had built up at his lack of response.

You closed your eyes and set it aside; you would deal with it tomorrow. Now, it was time for sleep.

“I love you too.” You heard, so soft that it was almost just a breath of air.

It was probably just a dream.

#suna #suna x reader #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintarō #haikyuu suna #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyu x reader #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic #smut

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