#why can't people just enjoy themselves without constant complaining

[mattdevil]

Yk what its actually so tiring to see people insisting jayvik is cannon when they were not written like that.

It's also wrong to call Christian Linke homophobic just because he didn't make a pair gay. I saw the same thing being said about Stan Lee just because he said Peter Parker wasn't gay. Could he actually be homophobic? Yeah but people can't base it on this single thing, especially only because they're upset their ship isn't cannon.

Are the memes good? Yeah. Are people allowed to ship and enjoy the dynamic? Of course. But don't insist its actually real or something. Those characters are essentially not real. A lot of people are making this an a lot bigger deal than it is and raging over nothing.

The same goes for homophobes saying jayvik's relationship is just brotherly.

[that-lazy-snail]

Being a fan of Avatar (the movie with blue people) is literally the most exhausting fan experience I've ever had, and I'm a female Star Wars fan, who's favorite Star Wars movie is The Last Jedi.

I'm by no means claiming that the movie is flawless or even "great" but it is by scifi blockbuster standards pretty good. It's no more or less racist than the Star Wars prequels and the writing isn't any worse than the scriptwriting in the Star Wars prequels either, yet it's treated with such disdain among people on the internet that I can't even talk about it without receiving random hateful comments.

I cosplay from the movie, more specifically the new movie and an OC that I designed in 2018. I love the movie, especially the visual elements and the design of the Na'vi and their culture, I think it's a fascinating metaphor for our treatment of indigenous peoples and our planet, I love the themes the film presents. But I'm also aware that it's harmful to indigenous people as well because it promotes a white savior narrative, that it's harmful to disabled people by promoting the narrative that they can't live full lives unless they're normative. I don't deny those problems with the movie, and I have plenty of criticisms of the new film as well. Particularly the use of locks on Jake and Spider, and I saw a video on tiktok complaining about that and I left a comment saying that I really wish they hadn't done that and I thought it was a really poor styling choice since up until that point none of the Na'vi we'd seen have locks so it doesn't logically make sense to give them that hair style. I got quite a bit of response to that comment, some people agreeing with me but largely people were saying, "why do you cosplay it then?" "why do you support it then?" like is it not okay to like things and also have criticism for them? I'm allowed to like things about it and also not like things about it.

I also keep seeing videos saying that Avatar has no cultural impact, that it doesn't have a long lasting fan base despite having lore comparable to Lord of the Rings. Here's the thing with that, it totally does have lore comparable to Lord of the Rings but the fan base can't thrive like LOTR fans or even Star Trek could partially because the internet wasn't a space in the same way then as it was when Avatar came out and the other fact is the sheer amount of shaming and harassment that Avatar fans get. I've seen people leave the fandom because of the hate they received on the internet. They quite literally get bullied out of their enjoyment of the movie. People say that Avatar has no fans, but it's fans are chronically silent and reclusive in our liking of the film for fear of getting harassed. I am part of Facebook groups of that have thousands of members and a very active discord. Avatar fans exist, they just keep low and quiet so as to protect themselves. I know people who speak Na'vi in the same way people speak elvish or klingon, it's just not something we advertise because every time we try to share our enjoyment of the movie we get mean comments or mocking stitches/remixes of our videos, pictures, etc. It's not fun to be a public Avatar fan, it's scary and exhausting.

I love Avatar, Neytiri was one of the first truly strong and inspirational female characters I connected with as a child (I was 9 when the movie came out) and I was fascinated and enthralled with the world of Pandora, as were so many movie goers. I'm so tired of getting railed on for enjoying this movie, or even just the constant ridicule that comes through my feed about it. What happened to the golden rule of if you don't have anything nice to say (or on this case even anything that provides new/valuable commentary/criticism) don't say anything at all?

I'm so sick of hearing the same arguments I've heard a million times about why it's a retread plot of Pocahontas/Dances With Wolves/Ferngully, I've heard it all before, I've seen those movies before and their plots are in myths and any number of other stories, that's not why I love the movie. No amount of people saying that to me will change what I do like about the Avatar. I don't watch Avatar for the plot, I watch it for Pandora, and for the visual spectacle and the world building.

I'm sick of the argument that Avatar's treatment of indigenous voices is somehow worse than any other piece of media written by and for white communities, it's not. Even Avatar the Last Airbender (which is my favorite TV show of all time and is often acclaimed as a great example of native representation) also falls failure to the same mistake of casting white actors in POC roles and changing the narratives of natives to be more easily accepted and understood by white audiences. This is not to say that ATLA doesn't handle its message better than Avatar, but it's important to be aware of the ways in which all media has flaws, even the things we think are less problematic and it's important to acknowledge them and not tear the media down for it, but use it as means to make new media better. Cameron did improve with the Way of Water, he frequently consulted with the Maori tribes he was pulling inspiration from, there's literally articles written by Maori tribe members on it but it is still a white people movie, written by white people for white people so do with that what you will. But don't claim star wars is any better, the prequels were outrageously racist, and they still maintain majority white casts.

The new Avatar movie (the way of water) is not perfect, there are quite a few things I found to be poor choices in regards to cultural sensitivity (aka locks, and casting Kate Winslet as Ronal instead of a Polynesian actress) but it's still better than it's predecessor, and unlike so many people on the internet say, it is not "a bunch of white people playing poc" since neither Zoe Saldana, nor Trinity Jo-Li Bliss, or any of the Metkayina children or Cliff Curtis are white. In fact, Cliff Curtis is Maori, the culture that inspired the Metkayina and many of the extras who play background Na'vi in the films are POC, because in spite of James Cameron's failings, he did want the Na'vi to be played by people of color. Very very few of the Na'vi in the original movie are played by white people, only a few extras with less than 1 minute of screen time and no lines. All the major Na'vi roles were played by people of black and indigenous color. Eytukan was played by a Cherokee native, Mo'at (these people are the two clan leaders) is played by a indigenous woman from Africa and is very black. Zoe Saldana's parents are Dominican and Puerto Rican for god's sake! She is not white. This argument that he casts white people in POC roles is untrue. The Avatars are white cause they're meant to represent the invadors, wolf in sheep's clothing if you will. The Na'vi are bipoc, and they're played by bipoc.

After Avatar, James went to Brazil and became and activist for native communities. He went worked with Brazilian natives fighting the building of a dam over their local river, a dam with would power a major city in Brazil, but destroy the indigenous peoples access to water. He went to their community, and asked them what he could do to help. He donated money, protested, ran conferences and tried to disrupt the building of the dam using his influence, but it failed, and he had to watch the suffering of this indigenous tribe that he'd grown very close to in their time working together to prevent the dam. He's not Anti-indigenous as people love to claim, he's clumsy and arrogant (like all cis white men) but what he does is an attempt to elevate native voices not smother them even if he doesn't necessarily succeed.

The movie isn't the menace to society people portray it as, nor is it as boring or uncompelling as people claim. But I still can't go online to enjoy it because no matter what I say, I like it too much for "a bad movie" or I'm "too supportive of something harmful" although I still see people buying Harry Potter merchandise in the Barnes and Noble and I'd argue JK Rowling is an actively bigoted individual who's words and paychecks actively harm marginalized communities, unlike Cameron who despite his bumbling is trying his best and actually learning and doing better with the new content he puts out.

People also say things like, "You only like it cause you're white, no POC people like Avatar." which is blatantly untrue, I've seen native people who like it, black people who like it, I have black friends who like it, I know a black cosplayer who cosplays from it. In fact, I know more poc who cosplay from it than white people. Everyone is entitled to their opinion of the film, and should be allowed to interact with it without getting harassed. It's just exhausting to like it, so people don't say they do.

I'm tired of even the things that should be praised about the new film being used as a way to tear it down. Cameron said in an interview that he "likes Captain Marvel and Wonder Woman as characters but they're not mom's" when asked why he chose to make Neytiri a mother. Neytiri's motherhood doesn't detract from her warrior-ness, she's still a badass bitch and I think that's the point that this person on tiktok clearly missed. He wasn't saying you need women to be moms to be heros, but how many warrior women who are also mothers can you think of off the top of your head? I can't think of any. The choice to make Neytiri a badass mom wasn't to detract from single or childless female characters but to provide even more diversity in the kinds of strong female characters out there. I loved that 1/2 the cast of that movie was women, just as I loved Neytiri in the first film.

In conclusion, can we please stop making Avatar fans lives hell on the internet. I do my own research about how it is and isn't problematic and make my own decisions, I don't need strangers to yell at me. I just want to enjoy my silly ecoscifi movie about blue aliens. I'm aware of its issues and I do my best to raise awareness of the issues facing real natives, to engage with real native stories and voices and support their protests, legal persuits, tribal sovereignty, land back etc, and be the best ally I can be, but I'm not going to boycot this movie because it does some problematic stuff, or because it has an unoriginal plot, if I did that I could never watch another marvel movie again (and yes they're just as bad if you dig, look at the early ones especially) I'm so sick of the insane amount of factually unsupported hate this movie gets and of having to deal with it. I'm tired, I just want to enjoy my movie which is no worse than any other white backed and driven Hollywood blockbuster.

[baileys-3]

CHAPTER 24 NOW ONLINE on AO3

Sneak Peak:

"So, do I have to worry about you? Since we're sitting here on the beach? Well, not that I'm complaining. But why the sudden change of heart?"

As her head leans against Tim's shoulder, she can feel him exhale slowly. Because she can feel his breath on her forehead.

"Can't you just enjoy it? Without having to psychoanalyze me?"

She lifts her head and looks him in the eye. "Oh, I'm enjoying it very much."

Her gaze is fixed on the sea. Even though only the moonlight provides brightness, the waves that regularly wash up on the beach are clearly recognizable. The light of the moon is reflected on them and creates all kinds of different shades of color. A multitude of stars twinkle above them. The night is cloudless. The sounds of the waves can be heard. A fire burns in the distance, with people sitting around it whose voices can be heard as a faint background noise. Occasionally you see a couple or a jogger or other beachgoer walking or running along the water. But otherwise, it's quiet. Kojo is lying next to them on the blanket and has simply fallen asleep. Apparently, he has exhausted himself a little too much playing and romping by the water and now needs a rest.

That's one part she enjoys.

The other has less to do with the surroundings and more to do with closeness. With closeness to Tim. She is sitting on a blanket that’s laying in the sand. But it's not actually her who is sitting on the blanket, it's Tim. She, instead, is sitting on Tim's lap. Or in other words across his lap. Her head is leaning against his shoulder, and she has placed one hand on his chest. To be more precise, she has slipped her hand under his Henley after she undone the three buttons at the top of his neckline. Now her hand is on his chest, under his shirt with fingers running in constant, irregular circles over his skin.

His hand is resting on her back under her top drawing small circles there. Her other hand is intertwined with his in her lap, their fingers playing with each other. A blanket draped over their shoulders, which they have pulled almost completely over to cover themselves, turning the public beach into a kind of private space, so no one who passes them can see what is happening under the blanket.

She takes a moment to gather her thoughts before she speaks again - "But that doesn't mean I'm not curious."

"Obviously." She knows that tone. It's the one that means he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. It's the one that never let her bother before.

"So?"

Now he rolls his eyes.

"No, you don't have anything to worry about."

"What?"

"You asked me if there is anything to worry about. The answer is no."

Oh right. That was her initial question. Which she has forgotten.

"Okay."

[pom0dorini]

people in this fandom need to learn the difference between fiction and reality.

lately a big amount of people have gotten into hetalia, and while that's always great, i can't help but notice that most of them are very young teens on tiktok. mind you there's nothing wrong with that, but the fandom has been getting more and more sanitized over the years. it's insane how many people have started complaining about ships that have been a thing since the very start just because everything must be seen as "problematic".

have we watched/read the same anime/manga? i know that with world stars (especially the recent chapters) hetalia has become a lot more tame than it used to be, but you can't just ignore everything that came before that. there's so much stuff that those people would deem absolutely sinful and problematic, so my question is: why are you in the hetalia fandom? seriously, hetalia has always been involved with discourse and most people are extremely critical of it, it's really not content i could ever see puritans being interested in without them having constant heart attacks.

to everyone that complains about the "gross and icky" content: block the tags! block people! stay in circles of people that share your same opinions! i promise no one is forcing you to look at it. fandoms are a creative place, people are gonna have different opinions/views/ships from yours and that's ok. there is no reason to shame others for what they enjoy in fiction because, IT'S FICTION. we're talking about fake personifications of countries, lines on a screen, DRAWINGS. they're not real beings and they're 100% not affected by people on the internet shipping them with other characters. your personal tastes don't give you the right to harass and judge people because they enjoy "problematic" content. that's such a childish way of thinking, just mind your own business instead of whining on tumblr about evil gross ships of fictional characters. your opinions aren't objectively correct just because they're yours (shocking i know), you can think and say what you want but that's not gonna stop people from enjoying themselves.

fandom spaces are so much more enjoyable once you learn to avoid the content you dislike, tumblr has a filtering and blocking system (admittedly not the best, but you can still avoid stuff) so use it! learn how to curate your online experience!

this rant was just to say that i'm so tired of people in the hetalia fandom spewing this puritanical bs and being sour over things that have existed since hetalia started. just shut up and leave others be for the love of god.

[haloguyfttp]

This is a rant about Genshin. Half of it is the community's (to me) bizarre blind hatred of Paimon, who I actually like. The other half was me letting out some gripes with the main story since I was already rambling anyway. I'm putting it under the Read More thing so you don't have to see it if you don't want to.

So I recently got back into Genshin Impact for... reasons.... and as usual I decided to go looking for some vids.

Inevitably this lead me to good old playthroughs and... goddamn I forgot how awful the Paimon hate was and apparently still is. Like 3 years later and I literally can't watch a single video without someone going "OMG I hate Paimon!" or "God Paimon shut up!"

Like it drives me insane because I swear it genuinely feels like no one likes Paimon, which is weird to me because I do like Paimon! One of the only things I miss about Genshin while playing HSR is having Paimon! People constantly call March "The better Paimon" and it's infuriating because like... that's not how this fucking works! They're 2 different characters goddammit that's like me saying "Oh yeah Samurai Remnant Saber is the better Artoria" like the only thing in common is they have the same position in the story!

God it's just hard to enjoy a game and its community's content when every fucking video is constant bitching.

On a vaguely related note since I'm already whining, no one seems to ever complain about the story even though that's what I have way more issue with. I mean look at this fucking pacing, we're 3 years in to this game and I still have no idea what the Abyss is, what the Abyss Order's actual goal is, what the Tsaritza's objective is, what is Khaenriah or why should I care, hell how about the whole journey's objective being the Traveler's Sibling, yet I have 0 reason to care because we know nothing about them nor the Traveler themselves. At this point "Finding my sister/brother" is basically just the generic plot point akin to "Find the One Piece" and "Defeat the Demon King", some random goal that's gonna take way too damn long to actually achieve with no real motivating force beyond "Well we need something to get the MC moving".

Anyways finally got that out of my system. If you read the whole thing, I am sorry. I will shut up and go back to my den of misery now, bye bye~

[waterforlorn]

day twelve. october 18th.

yesterday we mostly drove again. there's so much nature out here i never quite realized, but then again .. camp has nature, too, so it's not like i only know the city. i don't. it's just .. it hits different when you drive FOR DAYS and all you see is open land on either side. it's fucking fascinating. part of me wonders why people all squeeze up together in the big cities when there is so much open space for everybody .. everywhere. but then again, i can't really judge, can i? i lived and worked in the big city myself.

being private security was good. i … enjoyed it. i mean it wasn't like an actual GREAT job, but it paid well and they practically begged for me and showered me in extras. army men, best security in the country. clearly. i was good at my job. i mean, nobody died or got hurt - don't know how many can say that much for themselves. i got my ass handed to me a few times, ended up sporting bruises or cuts. i got shot a few times, but nothing too bad, really. i'd take getting shot over the constant worry of mines and ambushes any day.

and the best? the bouncer nights. being broad helped me a lot with that. put me in front of a club door and people are gonna think twice about causing trouble. not the most exciting work hours, for sure, but … well, those also came with perks. drunk men are so simple. the amount of times i got hit on could wrap a warm blanket around earth, really. but they never do it on the way in, nah. worked fine for me. i never had a lack of suitors. i guess i didn't in camp either. i just … never really found myself drawn to the scrawny youngsters. sure, i wasn't picky before, but it felt different in camp. they're damn kids. being the oldest of the bunch surely put a damper on me. at first.

can't really complain anymore now. nico's … yeah. he's good. i'm good. no complaints. sure i get annoyed when he puts his damn smithing before me when i need him, but like.. i admit that's … part of what i like about him. he has that sense of duty that's more common in older people like us. sure, sometimes i want him to drop everything when i tell him to, but if he didn't put up a fight … it wouldn't be half as good to watch him do it. to know i can MAKE him. powerful is an understatement. i mean okay yeah, it also makes me feel all warm and fuzzy (like an idiot) when he drops shit for me. can't deny it. won't. emotions and stuff, yeah.

so.. apparently neither of us ever have been to mount rushmore. i guess it's more my age but i never really got around to it. i mean, i didn't really care either. fuckin' presidents never did anything for me, did they? fuck them. but still, we drove past south dakota anyway, so might as well. it was.. impressive, i won't lie. huge ass faces in a rock wall? yeah. i'll have to try using my powers to attempt something similar one day. might be fun. can't imagine humans having done that though, not without help i guess. i dunno. it's just fucking huge.

so uh, i think we're like halfway across the country now? it's crazy to think you could drive from east to west in a few days. such a huge-ass country and yet. i mean, we're taking a lotta detours so we're taking longer. i'm in no rush i think, but still curious.

as for emotions and thoughts. uh, well, had a bit of both up top. emotions are fine. i'm like.. really good. no bad thoughts this time. the drive's been quite pleasant and the motel we slept in had a pretty comfy bed. no complaints.

nico's got something planned again, he let something slip at mount rushmore that had me think hard and thoroughly. it's sus. i'm curious, but i won't tell him. i'll wait for him to spill or show me. i might be gone for a few days again, but surprisingly enough i don't really… feel bad. i mean, sure i feel a little anxious when i skip days, but once i took a moment to remind myself it's OK… it is.

yeah, it's OK.

[snugglyporos]

// depression rant below

// probably bad that I told my therapist 'you know it's probably not worth being alive, because it's all downhill from here'

because I figure that at 32, the next 30 are going to be markedly worse than the first 30, given how many family members are going to die and how many medical issues I'll have, not to mention how many more bills I'll have to pay

and their response was 'and what do you want me to say to that'

and I'm like 'nothing really' because it's just a fact of living that everything gets worse as you get older

and that I am rather bad at being a functional human being

granted, I'm not really suicidal, since dead people can't enjoy good things either.

but looking forward I'm just like 'I have peaked, and I am not going to amount to anything more, and to exist further is an exercise is deciding how much I want to suffer'

which is pretty depressing

but really, with how hard it is to do anything with the autism

I can tell you that if tomorrow they came out with a cure for it, but it would cost me fingers, I would be asking you 'okay, which ones' because I could probably negotiate up to three

I am very aware that were I living a thousand years ago, or two hundred, I would not have survived childhood.

And honestly, I'm not sure I deserve anything given how much other people are suffering right this moment.

like this is why I'm not a therapist, because were I sitting across from me, I'd be like 'yeah you should probably just die, shit isn't going to get better from you if you can't motivate yourself to feed yourself on a regular basis'

I just wish I wasn't so shit at doing basic stuff. that I could hold my interest in anything and not simply lose all interest in things for long periods.

like I envy speedrunners who can play one game for thousands of hours without getting bored, and people who can edit videos without hating themselves

and I think the problem is that I don't hate myself enough anymore

when I was younger I could force myself to do things because I was in a constant state of gun to my head hating myself, where I had to do things or I would die

and I no longer feel that

Just really empty. and no longer willing to go there.

idk. nothing is good, made worse by the fact that I know I have nothing to be complaining about.

[mid-weast]

Will you keep it down? | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You and Jungkook attend the same university and have been neighbors for 3 months now. It drives you crazy that he plays loud music at 2AM, and it drives him crazy that you barely acknowledge his presence.

Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader; Black!Reader

Words: 2.6K

Genre: enemies to lovers, student!jungkook, student!reader, fluff, mention of smut, angst? (in the form of bickering back and forth).

Authors note: Hi hi! This is the first fic I’ve ever written so if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also it is unedited so if there's grammar / spelling mistakes I'm sorry again! Also this is catered toward the reader being Black but I hope it can be enjoyed by everyone. Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated ok love u bye!

“Y/N? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??!? Open this door RIGHT NOW!”

Even though you were studying in your room, his knocks were so loud you nearly jumped out of your skin. You had expected a reaction, but not a full-on explosion.

You and Jungkook have been apartment neighbors for about three months now, and a constant problem is that he blares his music hella loud late at night. Of course he’s a music major so he listens to music a lot, but at this point you don’t care. It doesn’t even seem like he’s working on composition homework anyway, just being an asshole with no regard for his neighbors peace. Now don’t get yourself wrong, you're not just some uptight bitch who complains about everything. Well, you do have several pet peeves but over the years of going to school in Korea you’ve picked and chosen your battles very wisely. In most cases you let things slide. You wouldn’t care at all about someone playing the music loudly, but it is 2 AM, and while you’re up studying you know a lot of your other neighbors are trying to sleep.

You tiptoe toward your front door and twist the knob slowly. You only open the door wide enough to be able to see his face. It’s not that you’re scared that you’re in danger or anything, and you rarely back down from people giving you a hard time. But you were tired, wearing a big ass t- shirt and short shorts (your regular sleep attire), and it was late at night. So if anything was going to pop off you felt pretty vulnerable. Even though you’re the same age, he towers over you and you find his size kinda intimidating.

As usual, you have to crane your neck to see his face, and your view of him is limited by the narrowness in which

you opened the door.

“Can I help you, lil boy?”

From what you can see of him, right away you can tell that he is pissed. Dawning his usual attire of a black sweatshirt with the hood up, black sweats, and stomp a hoe boots, he stood extremely close to your apartment door with his arms crossed. His usually wide, puppy dog eyes are now pressed in narrow slits. His normally pouty lips are formed in a hard line, and his jaw is so clenched you could carve an ice sculpture with his jawline.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You called the cops on me? Are you INSANE???" Jungkook shouts.

Obviously he's mad, and despite the amount of times you've gone back and forth he's never raised your voice at you. The old you would have screamed back at him, but over time you've tried to respond to anger with calmness. Also, you were a little scared because this mf is kind of big.

"I already told you if you keep blaring your music at 2AM, I was going to do something about it!" You respond in a hushed whisper, slightly concerned that your elderly neighbors will be even more disturbed by the noise. "I've told you this a million times, and you barely do anything about it. If anything, it's gotten worse like you're doing it on purpose. People are trying to sleep and I'm trying to study, why is this so hard for you to understand?"

He sucks his teeth. "You're such a little snitch. And I've already told YOU that YOU can't tell me what to do."

"I know I can't...but they can," you nod toward the exit, referring to the police officers that most likely just left out that way with a tiny smirk growing on your face.

If it was possible, he clenched his jaw even harder and you think that he's going to pop a blood vessel. He pushes his way into your apartment, which sends you stumbling back and you grab the door handle to regain your balance. This causes you to close the door shut.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're-"

He steps right up to you and leans down into your face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, seriously??? Why are you such an annoying little brat? Just because you're a nerd with no friends who gets no play doesn't mean you can take your bitterness out on me.”

You have to laugh in his face at this point because hello??? First of all, who is he talking to? Second of all, you have told him a BUNCH of times to turn his music down late at night. You didn't think that was too much to ask. As far as you were concerned, being aware of your noise level when you live in an apartment is the universal bare minimum for being a human being.

"ME? Who do you think YOU are? Actually let me tell you. You're an entitled little rich boy who thinks he runs the world. I don't give a fuck about how popular you are on campus, how many people fall at your feet to be around you, and how many hoes you have, you cant talk to ME like that. And how are you going to try and tell me about myself when it's too much of a task for you to be a decent neighbor? I've never done anything to blatantly bother you, so why can you just.." You started to panic because usually when you raise your voice out of anger, your voice cracks and tears threaten to pool out of your eyes, but you tried to get a grip and not back down..."why can you just be nice to me so we can live in peace? Is that too hard for you???"

He looked kind of taken aback by your question. Being nice to you? It never crossed his mind. Also, you kind of had a point. When the semester started and you both moved in on the same day, you would shoot him a small, friendly smile in passing but you never seemed interested in getting to know him. He always wondered why that was. It's not that he had a problem talking with girls, since all he had to do was breathe and girls would come flocking around him, but you would flat out ignore him. Even at all the major parties at the beginning of the year and on Thursday nights when students take over the clubs in the city, you'd barely even acknowledge him. He KNEW that you had seen him too, since you would make eye contact, but you acted like he was just another guy at the club.

And he'd be lying if he said you weren't fine. You had thick thighs, a beautiful face, nice curves, and always wore outfits that hugged you in the right places. He always wondered what it would feel like to wrap his arms around your body and press it against his own. He would constantly sneak peaks of you throughout the night at the club, but something stirred in him when he saw that you were chatting up other guys. Was he...jealous? Jealous that you were so eager to pay attention to these dudes who, in his opinion, were decent looking but they were nowhere near his level, and you never even gave him a second thought? One night he even saw you leaving with a man he knew through mutual friends, and he had to physically stop himself from breaking the glass he was holding, because that guy, while objectively handsome, was nothing compared to him. Jungkook wasn't blatantly cocky, but he let his talent, charm, and looks speak for themselves. He was THEE Jeon Jungkook, and nothing ever really bothered him....except you.

Was he....interested in you? Nah, that can't be it. You were some random chick who happened to be his neighbor, who also is one of the only girls he's met that doesn't give two fucks about even having small talk with him, and that infuriated him for some reason. So the first time you came knocking on his door in an adorable pink satin pajama set with a matching bonnet complaining about his loud music, he knew the game he had to play.

He's still standing over you, centimeters away from you face, but you notice that his eyes soften a little and so does his jaw. He unclenches the fists he was holding crossed against his chest

You continue, “I don't care what you do, and I'm DEFINITELY trying to run your messy ass life. Believe me," you scoff, "you don't have enough money to pay me to do that. But when your dickhole behavior fucks with MY life is when it's a problem. And it's BEEN a problem."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, little girl, maybe I should call you little mouse now, since now I know that you'll go squeaking to the cops now, don't fuck with me or my music again.”

Without moving your head you look him up and down with a confused expression. "Am I supposed to be scared of you? No seriously, you look like you cry during Disney movies while wearing footie pajamas, and now here you are throwing a fit because I forced you to stop bothering the entire wing with your music?"

Girl...what are you saying??? This man just barged into YOUR place, is in your face, and is strong enough to pick you up and throw you, and you’re insulting him? But you figured if he's going to be rude, you'll throw it right back because you're tired of his bullshit.

Whatever softness he was feeling for a fleeting moment immediately left, and annoyance once again washed over. He straightens up a bit and puts on that annoying confident smirk he wears when he thinks he's won arguments between you two.

"You should be nicer to me, all it will take is for me to tweet one thing about you, and you'll be the most hated person on campus."

At this point, any suspicions that you had about him annoying you on purpose were confirmed. You've concluded that this mf is a bully and you, small and shy but not one to take mess, will put him in his place to-motherfucking-night.

You take a step toward him, now crossing your arms tightly against your chest, but he doesn't even move a hair backwards.

"Clearly you need a rude awakening so here it is. I don't know what type of people you've dealt with all your life, always saying yes to you, letting you boss them around and taking whatever bullshit you dish out, but let me tell you I am not the one. Never have been and never will be. Unlike the other fools around here who cream their pants at the mention of your name, I don't care about who you are. You'll respect ME and MY peace as long as we're neighbors, you get me?"

Now y/n, you have never so boldly stood up to someone, where did that come from, babes? You've tried to not let this entitled little boy get to you this whole time, but with him standing in front of you in the middle of your apartment with that extremely annoying, yet handsome, smirk on his face, and after all the crap he's said tonight, he had you all the way fucked up.

After you said that, he just laughed and looked away. Now you’re standing there fuming and confused...was there a joke you missed? You were being dead serious!

"Something funny?" you ask, narrowing your eyes.

"Nothing, just thinking about how I want to face fuck that annoying little mouth of yours so you finally shut up.”

Your jaw almost dropped to the floor. You've never had a guy say something so blatantly rude and vulgar literally inches away from your face. But again, you weren't going to back down.

"Oh really?" Scoffing and tilting your head to the side a bit while narrowing your eyes even more, "I'd very much like to do the same. Maybe then you'll learn your place."

"Oh please, princess, you probably blanch when someone around you even mentions the word sex." He chuckles and leans down close toward your face again and cocks his head to the side, scrunching his nose and in a pouty voice said, "you're fooling no one, but keep trying, maybe you'll get there.”

You're even more annoyed than you were before, if that was even possible. But if he wanted to play this game, you might as well go there with him. It's true, you were a bit more prudent than more, but it pissed you off that he could tell. Regardless, you do know some things to say that could have him leaving with his tail between his legs.

You pouted your lips and in a babying tone said, “Aww sweetheart you have no idea. You think you're big and bad but like I said, you probably cry watching Disney movies. The same way you'd be crying, begging me to let you cum down my throat as I mercilessly toy with your cock for hours.”

Now it's his turn to go pale. Y/n, his stuck up neighbor who has barely even spared him five seconds of her time just threatened to edge him into submission? He has to pinch himself because he must be dreaming....

“Well I-“

“But I don't even think we’d make it that far, hun” you continue, “because in order to humble your egotistical, disrespectful ass, I'm gonna have to ride your face until you suffocate. And when the paramedics come and I have to explain how you died, I won't even hesitate to tell them that you were a punk ass loser who LITERALLY drowned in my pussy!”

You don’t know who this person speaking is, but it is not you. All of the pent up hostility you’ve held towards him just flooded out of you and you couldn’t stop the words from coming out. To be honest you shocked yourself, but you still stood there with your arms crossed and your face unfaltering, just waiting for him to say something smart back.

He stared at you silently, eyes wider than you’ve seen before and his mouth hung slightly open. He wasn’t expecting you to respond with so much fire, but now he wouldn’t be able to sleep until the image you painted came true. His brain said fuck it, and his lips crashed down onto yours. The kiss is sloppy but passionate, and you swore you heard him quietly whimper.

When he feels you starting to kiss back, he smirks into the kiss. Your lips are moving against each other in tandem, and all thoughts about how much you despise the prick fades away. As you uncrossed your arms and placed them on his chest, you could feel his heart beating wildly. Was he as nervous as you were this whole time? You wonder. You knew he was a player, so he was experienced. But the thought that you made him nervous gave you a tiny confidence boost. His hands slowly slide up the sides of your body to sneak behind your back, to pull you further into his chest. As much as your brain was telling you to resist him and push him away, you couldn't help but fall victim to how soft his lips felt against yours. Suddenly you feel airborne as he swiftly reaches down behind your thighs and picks you up. You instinctively gasp but he doesn’t miss a beat, simply biting your lower lip and locking your lips together again.

“Maybe we should test that scenario of yours, and if it comes true, that wouldn’t be the worst way for me to go” he says, doing that annoying but soul-crushingly handsome smirk he likes to wear as he carries you off to your bedroom.

[levisassismysexuality]

I'm so sorry to hear about your Twitter account, no one should have to deal with that mess when you weren't doing anything to harm anyone. People should be allowed to enjoy creating art of whatever they want, as long as it doesn't harm anyone.

Antis have no right to declare what's acceptable or not, especially over fictional characters. It pisses me off when they group up and attack people online over something they personally don't like. And like you said, most of them are nothing but children who obviously can't comprehend that fictional characters have nothing to do with real life and our personal views.

At this point, these Antis are no better than what they say we are. Why can't they just fucking grow up and ignore what they don't like, rather than looking out for it? That's something I've never understood about them. Any normal person would just avoid looking at something they don't like. It's not that difficult to just politely scroll past whatever ship it might be.

But either way, I hope this doesn't deter you from making what you love, because, for the record, I adore your artwork. Just wanted to send some love and let you know that the community are with you 💕🫂

Thank you for reaching out 💞

I completely agree with you. We should be allowed to express our love for our favourite things and create freely without the constant abuse from antis. Especially since we’re doing no to harm actual living breathing people.

These children are actually purposely putting themselves in front of adult content although they have been given warnings and then complain about it. They seek out ships they dislike and then target us with abuse although they are the ones going out of their way to find it.

At this point their audacity to feel justified in bullying is a huge problem and I am sickened by it.

Thank you so so much, I needed to hear that at this time ❤️ I miss my online moots dearly and not being able to share in their online shenanigans as of now is killing me. However I promise you I am not deterred. If the antis thought this would stop me from doing what I love then they are sadly mistaken. I will continue to make and post art and join in any Ereri related topic I can because I have not been a shipper for 6 years for some kids to get rid of me that easily.

Thank you again for this message it’s nice to hear that there are people who care 💞

[artburogallery]

Woman's bag as an art object. History of ARTBURO.

Woman's bag as an art object. History of ARTBURO.

“Beauty without originality not pleasing to the eye.”

Christian Dior

In Paris, in a Lebanese restaurant, I watched a scene. An Arab family, a man and three women, booked a table near us. The man was wearing a tradition business suit, and the ladies strolled behind him in a conventional Arab garment, hiding everything but their eyes. A run of the mill story for Paris and I had already looked away, however then an awesome thing occured - all three as if on command, hung a similar Hermes Birkin on the backs of their seats.

I instantly recollected an episode from the film "The Devil Wears Prada"- a scene when one of the characters wonders why ladies have such a large number of bags. One of the women expresses her opinion as follows: "Fashion is not about utility. An accessory is merely a piece of iconography used to express individual identity".

Were those bags a form of symbolism which is fundamental for self-articulation of personality? Certainly. Given the traditions in the east, sometimes for women, this is the only opportunity for self-expression. Be that as it may, there is a snag. Everything these bags tell me portrays just the accessory, yet not their owner.

For those who are not in the know, like me back in that time, the iconic Hermes crocodile leather bag is a total investment. After several years in the production queue, the customer picks up the bag from the store, which is already higher than the original price, since this is an absolutely exclusive item on the market. Yes, you heard right this bag is an exclusive investment.

And afterwards I take a gander at the women in similar dark dresses, all wearing same Сartier adornments on their hands and my creative mind does not leave me in rest. I urgently need to find out about them... Yes, luxury items have this feature. They are rich in history, authentic, unique, yet they are objects of art that are independent from their proprietors.

But fashion, in particular accessories, is constant communication, a fashion statement, and a method of self-expression. Having paid a fabulous sum for a coveted accessory that just shouts about its status, the owner cannot express a single thought about her as a person. Everything has been thought out and said for her.

A women's bag is a reflection of a woman, her occupation, interests and lifestyle. We are not talking about her bag as an object of practicality - otherwise we would all carry around backpacks and bales.

Once Jane Birkin complained to the chairman of the board of the Hermes House about the lack of choices for a convenient bag, for her trouble this historical accessory was named after herself. The Birkin model depicts the character, femininity and audacity of the actress herself. Can you feel it? In fact, everyone buying this model associates themselves with her. But no more.

When I was first informed that someone had personalized their Birkin bag, I was skeptical. Well, I thought really to purchase a costly item and use it like that, some kind of fad.

I did not understand that for someone this bag is not the only one in the collection. The “save money on that precise thing” metamorphosis has been passed, and the person simply enjoys the opportunity to something absolutely exclusive. By the way, the first person who personalized Birkin was Jane Birkin!

To sort out the issue thoroughly, I decided to talk with Alisa Kovtunova, the creative director and author of the idea of ARTBURO.

And everything began with an idea. However, it isn't generally there from the earliest starting point: "The most fascinating works are obtained when the client and I find the exact story that ought to be reflected in the illustration. Something personal, peculiar to a customer ", says Alisa. As Christian Dior stated, “Beauty without originality not pleasing to the eye”. This is the originality that ARTBURO achieves in each work.

Only original bags are taken into the procedure, the authenticity of products is constantly checked and work with them in a precise way. At first, each bag is reestablished, at that point, the artist begins to work with it as indicated by the chosen concept. All paints used in execution are made in Italy specifically for ARTBURO. This ensures a perfect outcome: the image will resemble a subsequent skin, and there will be no issues with it. Also, this is significant, as unscrupulous rivals use cheap paint, which is washed off and fades at the first signs of rain or humidity, and the drawing does not lay as it should.

Such cheap work is always obvious and simple to distinguish from high quality merchandise.

After completing the illustration, Alisa by and by checks all the works of artists, if necessary, sends them for amendment and brings them to flawlessness. Then the bag is sent to the owner. ARTBURO provides a personal courier service. And the bag is delivered personally into the hands of its holder.

ARTBURO has been operating for five years. Have there been displeased customers over the years? Not a single one. And how many were satisfied? Can't be counted. It is even more challenging to calculate in which countries orders were made. The boom of such services is in China, however the quality leaves a lot to be desired. Numerous purchases from the Middle East, Europe and the United States. Of course, our “it-girls” did not sidestep this opportunity either, so Nadezhda Obolentseva, Stella Aminova, Anastasia and Tatiana Fuks, singer Kristina Orbakaite, Tatiana Kovylina, Irina Shayk, Angelika Ivanc, Alena Soboleva and Eva Samieva were noticed with the bags of ARTBURO. There are works in the portfolio (even bigger samples) – that paint the inside of a car, yacht and even an airplane.

To show uniqueness, the owner's handwriting is inscribed on the bag. Earlier, such works were done for their astonishment and shock value, now most customers make orders for their own selfish and hedonistic reasons. It's great when a customer has self-irony and a sense of humor. Such people are filled with life energy, and this is reflected in their completed work - it will invigorate them and others.

With such an inspirational idea, the production of handbags began in ARTBURO. In 2014, the Wintour bag was released, these women’s bag was modelled after the drawings of Leonardo da Vinci. It combines the great inventor’s legacy, modernity and character of the woman in whose honor it was named. Anna Wintour is the permanent editor of American Vogue, a legendary figure in the fashion world, and one of the most influential. Reflecting such a character and personality strength is quite tricky, but ARTBURO did it. The result of the work was an exquisite handbag, which is made exclusively on the client's request in classic black, white and red. The texture of the skin is picked by the client. The most intriguing point of interest is the handle, which is turned and covered with metal color at the request of the customer.

In general, personalization now is one of the freshest trends in fashion. With the development of globalization and mass production, people lose their individuality and style. And now even the price of goods is now not always a guarantee of uniqueness. Therefore, well-known brands, including Louis Vuitton, Dior, Hermes, often collaborate with renowned specialists who reinterpret classical forms in a modern way by personalizing them.

Now envision that you have the chance to turn into an artist yourself and create your own history – that is transform into that one in a million. A similar item, for instance, a bag of Hermes, Chanel, Dior will never exist again, it will only belong to you. You are only constrained by your imagination.

This is the answer to the question of how not to get lost in the world of indistinguishable trends, even the most expensive or exclusive ones. The question is how to find yourself and express your vision and how to become an artist and creator of something absolutely amazing and unique. Without a doubt, in each of us, there is that small inventive outbreak from which we draw a mind-blowing vitality to create something big and grand.

[itspenisparker]

something extra smutty with Haz, like they used to date in high school but they broke up when he started travelling with Tom and he never got over her and she's now successful and living in LA and they run into each other at a party and she's dressed soooo hot and Haz just can't stop staring and they go back to his hotel room

PURE AND UTTER HARRISONxFEMALEREADER SMUT BELOW

You pushed up your sunglasses, taking the offered coffee cup with a tight smile, “thanks.” Your life was hectic, always had been, even when you were in high school. You like it that way, constantly bouncing from one thing to the next, keeping your mind busy. It made life more interesting, rather than living a normal routine. The white-picket-fence life just wasn’t for you. Instead, you liked meeting new people, and in fact, you had a party to attend this evening.

The beat was loud, people were grinding, the alcohol was free. This was a good party. You don’t know who the host was, you can’t even remember who invited you, but you were glad that you attended. The location was near the top of the fancy af list also. Top three floors of a building, with amazing views all around. The posters and cards around the place suggest that this is a press launch of some form, but you couldn’t really be bothered to know what of. You remember, faintly, your first press party, and how excited you had been. Overly excited. Now, you were a pro here, having a fair collection under your belt. You were used to rubbing elbows with up and coming stars, having casual conversations about your favourite sports teams with well-known directors and of the constant flashing of cameras which came with these events.

 That’s why, when you saw Tom Holland from across the room, it didn’t strike you as strange. He was an old school friend, someone who managed to get a good name for themselves. He posed for photos, took the drinks and looked like he was enjoying himself. What shocked you though, was when his best friend, his right-hand man, his brother from another mother, came into your sights. You stopped still at the familiar face, memories from years ago flashing through your mind. You two had a good relationship, were happy with each other and were going strong. That was until the argument. You can’t remember what it was about, it was that small, but the argument was rough. It was a messy split, one with many tears. It was at the wrong time also, just before you ended school. You two went your separate ways, you coming over to America and getting a name for yourself, Harrison staying back home. But, now, here he was, very far away from his home.

 You turned and started making your way through the crowd. You weren’t going to apologise to him, he was in the wrong. You could remember that. He was the one who ended it, instead of talking about it like the adults you thought you were. No, he ripped your heart out, threw it on the ground and stomped all over it.

 “Hey! Wait!” You heard him calling after you, somehow still able to pick up his voice over the heavy music and the loud conversations, yet you decided to ignore him. How did you know he was calling after you? It could be anyone else here! It wasn’t like it was a small party-

 “Stop!” You felt a hand on your elbow, felt the sparks going crazy at the contact as Harrison tugged you back around, “just stop!”

 You sighed, turning to look at him, “what are you doing here?” You couldn't help the punch behind your voice, couldn’t help the glare you sent him, or that tugged away at his hand. He stayed on, his body language the complete opposite of yours. His eyes were full of sorrow, his face downcast and showing his apologies without him saying another word. You hated the way your heart still panged for him.

 “Please, can we talk?” He begged, voice dripping with sadness, “please.”

 Rolling your eyes, you turned and walked off, and like a shadow, Harrison followed after you. You made your way around the place, stopping to have brief conversations with people you somewhat know. Harrison stayed behind you, shifting from one foot to the other. You took your time, collected yourself, before walking down a small corridor. Testing one of the doors, you found it unlocked and dark, and when you switched on the light, you saw it was a bedroom. You groaned internally. Great.

 “What?” You asked simply, turning to Harrison. He leant against the draws, head hanging down. You tapped your heel, the high-pitched clack of it echoing around the room. You could still hear the bass from the songs, but could no longer hear the words of the songs.

 “Sorry,” Harrison said, raising his head to look at you. For a moment, you two just stared at each other until you replayed what he said half a dozen times in your head. Had he really said that?

 “What the fuck? ‘Sorry’? Is that it?” You could feel your voice rising, could feel your blood starting to boil, the rage you had pushed down for years bursting out. “After, what, 4 years? You come here and say ‘sorry’?”

 “No! Fuck, let me finish!” Harrison raised his voice, jabbing a finger at you, “let me fucking talk, and then after, you can tear the shit into me!”

 You heaved out a laugh, mocking him, “this should be fun!” You sat down on the edge of the bed, levelling Harrison with a glare that could kill.

 Harrison ran a frustrated hand over his face as he groaned, pushing back his head before he begins. “I didn’t what I said, alright?” You opened your mouth to complain back, call out his bullshit, but he raised a finger, begging you not to, “just listen, please.” You closed your mouth into a tight line before sitting back. “I heard some shit going around, some horrible stuff,” he sighed, rubbing his jaw, “things I knew weren’t real but so many people were talking about it that it had to be. I listened, I know I was stupid, but I did. It went on for months, and I defended you at the start, told everyone that they were wrong. But then people carried on, and shit, it all sounded so real,” Harrison chewed on his lip, crossing his arms over his chest. “It was constant, and even outside of school. I know I should’ve told you, shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, but god dammit I was young!” He shouted the end section, anger directed towards himself, tears in his eyes, “please, just… just know I’m older know. I know what I said was wrong, how I handled it was horrible. Forgive me?”

 You felt your emotions battling. One-half of you was so angry with him. How dare he come here, after all these years, and say he was sorry? He was making excuses, didn’t want to seem like the bad guy. But your other half, the stronger half, knew he was telling the truth. Even after all these years, you knew Harrison, your Haz, was being genuine. “Look,” you mumbled, fiddling with your hands, “I can’t just say you're forgiven and were all good again. You don’t deserve that,” Harrison nodded, looking sullen, “but god dammit Harrison,” you clenched your hands, “you broke me. Do you know that? You broke me because you were my everything, my world, my soulmate. Harrison, hearing you say all of this it’s… it’s like being punched again, because, for god’s sake, I still love you,” you exclaimed, looking away. It was true, you still love him. After all these years, pushing down your true feelings, you still loved him. After meaningless fleeting flings, countless one night stands, horrible first dates repeated over and over again, you were sitting here, in front of the man you were still hopelessly in love.

 A gentle hand cradled your chin, a hesitant thumb running over your cheek. Turning to look, you saw Harrison, kneeling in front of you. His eyes were overwhelmed with tears, refusing to fall yet saying all his emotions. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. Your hands came up to cradle his face, “so much,” he continued, nuzzling your hand.

 You couldn’t take it anymore, and with a small pull, Harrison met your lips with his own. The kiss was hungry, teeth clashing and desperate breaths. You pulled Harrison’s hair, deepening the kiss and Harrison let out a low groan. Shaking hands came to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, the two of you breathing heavy when you break apart. You pulled at Harrisons, and he quickly pulled it off, throwing it to the side.

 “You look so amazing,” Harrison pants against your neck, nifty hands undoing your tight jeans, “I couldn’t help myself,” he kissed up to nibble on your jaw, shifting away to pull down the jeans. You lifted your hips, shuffling to help him get them down further. You kicked off your heels as Harrison gave a final tug, and you were sitting there in your underwear. He groaned, looking you over. His hand came up to trace the tattoo over your ribs and a growl rumbled again, his eyes darkening. “Can’t wait to memorise every inch of your body,” his voice low, Harrison's over hand came around to unclasp your bra, which also ended up on the floor. He leant forward, kissing up from your navel to between your breasts before pulling back to pull at your panties. He lifted your legs over his shoulders, “I love you,” he said again, giving you a quick smile before kissing up your thighs.

 Your back arched, your hand coming to grip in his hair. You fell back onto the hotel bed, moaning his name as he licked and kissed. He ran his hands over your stomach to grip onto your waist. He held you close as he continued to eat you out. Reluctantly, you tugged at his hair, pulling him away from you. You didn’t want him to stop, you loved it what he could do with his tongue, but this wasn’t what you wanted right now. Instead, when he came away from you, you sat up and swung your legs down from his shoulders as you surged forward to kiss him senseless. It was weird, tasting yourself on him, but it made you feel powerful also.

 You growled, pushing him back until he was lying on the floor. You came down to straddle him, running your hands down over his body as you smirked down at him. “These,” you commanded, tugging at the belt loops of his jeans, “off, now.” You couldn’t help but wink when you saw him shiver at the authority in your voice. “And those,” you pinged the waistband of his boxers, both of you giggling.

 Now, both completely naked, you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. You re-explored his body, ran your fingers over the small bump and scars, his imperfections that you adored, his little quirks. He was the same, showering you with compliments between moans and kisses. You continued for a couple of minutes until neither of you could hold back any longer.

 “Condom,” he groaned, “front pocket.” You nodded, crawling off him to where you had thrown the jeans. Sure enough, you dug around and found one. Coming back over, you opened the packet, slowly rolling it over his cock. He moaned loudly, bucking up at the first touch to his leaking erection. You pumped a few times, smirking at his expression. Mouth hanging open, eyes screwed tight. He hadn’t changed at all. You straddled again, but before you could go any further, Harrison grabbed your hips. “The floor?” He asked with a quirked eyebrow.

 “We never did anything normally,” you smirked, leaning down to kiss him. Slowly, you guided Harrison's cock inside, both of you panting against each other lips. You sunk down lower until finally, he bottomed out. You both stilled for a moment, before you shifted your hips, feeling him inside you. He groaned, one hand pushing your hair back behind your ear.

 “So beautiful,” he whispered, moving up to kiss you again, “stunning, but please move,” he whined, nipping your bottom lip. You laughed, kissing him harder as you lifted yourself up and back down, slowly at first, but building up speed. You mumbled praises and compliments against his lips, moaning as he started to thrust up, meeting you halfway.

 You did this for gods knows how long, taking a leisurely pace, but soon enough, you grew impatient. Sitting up straight, you placed steady hands on Harrison's chest, lifting yourself quicker and harder. Your vocabulary became nothing more than “yes” and “more”, and soon enough, they changed into moans.

 “Fuck,” Harrison drawled out, eyes tightly closed as his back arched, “close,” he panted. You nodded, hand coming down your body to touch your clit. Harrisons thrusts became more erratic, and after a few final thrusts, he stilled, his face a silent gasp. You picked up the pace, riding Harrison quickly as you felt your own orgasm. You screamed as you came, Harrison holding you up as you twisted your hips in pleasure.

You pulled yourself off, coming to lie next to Harrison. He grabbed your hands, kissing each knuckle. Once he did that, he rolled onto his side, kissing you lazily. “I love you,” he whispers, pushing your hair away from your face.

“I love you too,” you smiled, kissing him again, “but I think we better get going, before the owner of this room comes back,” you laughed, Harrison agreeing.