#also this piece may look a little flat but you just have to trust me that the version in my head was visually interesting and cool
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Ello again o/. So I eventually experience this… may i req Dazai has feelings for the reader but no intention to confess to her instead teasing/and helping Kunikida having feelings for the reader which ended up with Kunikida actually confessing. What would Dazai react tho–
AAAAAAAAAA this is horrible, caim I'm so sorry if you were put into that position cause that sounds like purgatory.
I'm gonna write from Dazai's POV cause he's a lil stalker who would watch as his heart gets broken and shattered into pieces because of this (I don't hate Dazai IDK why I treat him like this lol?)
Scenario: Dazai teases Kunikida about his feelings, without ever confessing his own before it's too late
(Side note, you used she in your request so I'm using that throughout this, I hope you don't mind !!)
"C'mon Kunikida, you keep saying you have your 'ideal wife' and 'ideal life' all planned out - but you like her, don't you?"
Dazai was smirking, folding one of his documents into a butterfly. His folding was rather sloppy, but it got the shape just right anyway - better than reading the drawl that was written throughout the document. He could just do it later anyway - there was always tomorrow in his mind.
Kunikida took it from his hands, carefully unfolding it. He used his pen and flat desk to carefully take out the creases, line by line.
"Don't put off your work. This needs to be done sooner, rather than later."
"Like how you won't tell Y/n that you like her?"
Kunikida looked up at him from underneath his bangs, glaring at him as hard as could. If looks could kill, Kunikida would have murdered Dazai one thousand times over.
Dazai returned it with a smile, placing his chin over his folding hands. Kunikida looked down, staring intensly at his work. His hands worked as if they were writing the Bible itself, clutching the pen and going over each now non-existent line.
"You like her so much it makes me wanna cry Kuni, it's like watching a little puppy follow its master around."
"Please refrain from referring to me as a dog. Also, she's not my master."
"Oh. I bet you're a bottom. No way you actually would do missionary, trust me I know you're a virgin but take it from an expert-"
Dazai felt the desk shake as Kunikida slammed his hands down on it.
"I do not need your advice! We shouldn't be talking about my crush, we should be doing our jobs."
There was a short pause as Dazai placed his hands over his mouth.
"So you admit you have a crush on her?"
"Dazai-"
"Kunikida."
Dazai was grinning, watching Kunikida's face turn red at his implications. He loved how the blonde couldn't hide his thoughts, especially not from him. It entertained him.
The argument was cut short by a voice.
"Dazai, do you have the paperwork from that last case? The coroner's office wants us to drop it off by today since the case is sensitive."
The two looked up to see you, walking into the office. Your hair was a mess from the humidity of the port, your face flushed from walking up the stairs. Kunikida tried not to stare, since he knew Dazai would make a comment.
"Sorry my sweet Y/n, it seems to have passed my mind. Kunikida did it for me though, maybe you guys can take a walk together and drop it off, hm?"
Kunikida did everything in his power to not tear Dazai limb from limb. Dazai couldn't keep the grin off of his face, watching as Kunikida tried to stay calm fruitlessly.
"That won't be necessary. I don't want to bother her while she's doing her work."
"What? Today is kind of slow. You can take a break, and we can go and drop this off and get a coffee. You need to relax more Kuni, you deserve it."
He blushed as you boldly took his shoulders in your hands, not letting him escape. You were looking down at him, your eyes watching his golden ones with an intensity that made him want to look away and hide.
Dazai found this rather delightful, although a part of it disgusted him. He enjoyed watching Kunikida curl up inside, but he saw the way your fingers curled up underneath his jacket lapels, fingering around the edges.
Your hands should have been on him.
"Yea Kuni, why don't you take one? You barely had a lunch."
"You know my name Dazai."
"But Kuni suits you! I think it's cute."
"See! Y/n agrees with me."
Kunikida held his head in resignation. You smiled, like a cat that caught the canary. Your hands were still on his coat, trying to keep the man close to you.
Dazai smiled back, a rather false grin. He won but he wasn't sure what it really was.
"Let's go. They want it as soon as possible, right?"
Kunikida was quick to pack his things, carefully placing the paperwork together in a folder, all bounded with a large paperclip. You wouldn't even be able to tell that it was once origami due to his careful and dedicated work.
You were quick to follow, waving goodbye to Dazai with a smile splitting your face a part cheek to cheek. There was a feeling that crept into his body as he watched the two of you leave - amusement, fondness, and a little bit of disgust.
Although he found that last bit of emotion, that disgust, was more towards himself than anyone else.
-
"Here Y/n."
"Aren't you supposed to be doing these?"
In Dazai's hand, was a small origami crane. It was near perfect, except for the fact that you can see the creases from the amount of times the paper was crumbled into a ball and folded over.
"Are you really going to reject it? I made it just for you."
"When I'm in the middle of work? Yes Dazai, I will. I don't wanna force poor Atsuhi or Kyouka to pick up our slack."
You went down back to your laptop, your fingertips tapping away at the keys softly. Dazai leaned into your space, his nose breathing in your shampoo.
"Really? It's not too bad, you can handle to slack off a bit Y/n. Cmon, have some fun with me for a bit."
"I'd rather not. I have to finish this anyway, since I dont wanna be late for my date tonight."
Dazai backed away a bit, giving you room to breathe. He blinked, a little in shock.
"You have a date tonight?"
"I said that. Yes."
The brunette shook his head, his fluffy hair shaking around his face. It wasn't real.
"With Kunikida? Seriously?"
"Um...is it that obvious?"
You turned your body to face Dazai, looking dead straight at him. The man was near completely frozen in shock. He didn't want to believe that this happened.
He knew Kunikida liked you, but enough to break his 10 year plan? To break his ideals of a perfect-life and perfect-wife? Would he even sleep with you before marriage?
Was this somehow his fault?
"Don't look so disappointed about it."
You were still staring at Dazai, now with a questioning gaze. He had to keep his face neutral to hide what was brewing underneath, a strange sort of sickness that was crawling underneath his skin.
"No. I'm happy for you two. I hope it works out."
He felt nothing but resentment brewing underneath his skin, especially as he saw you smile at his words. He tried his best to swallow that feeling down.
He liked Kunikida. He liked you.
But right now that disgust was crawling, making him want to vomit out nothing but anger.
HAAAAAAA this is super short and idk I keep writing a very angst and mean dazai, I don't mean too ?????
#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd x y/n#dazai x reader#dazai x you#kunikida x reader#kunikida x you#bsd#the banner is staying yall.
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Hi Beth!!! How do you deal with the pain of someone giving you bad or negative criticism on your work? Sometimes it's hard for me to decipher between good criticisms that are painful to hear vs just bad criticisms of my work. It's something I have a hard time with
the answer, unfortunately, is time.
it may take weeks or months or even years to look back on painful feedback and either go, "yeah i could see where they were coming from, but they didn't have to be an asshole about it," or "oh wow, they were just flat-out wrong."
until then, you have to let yourself feel your feelings, and maybe set the work down, and maybe lose a little faith in it, and try not to internalize the voice of that person. (i have a story about this at the end of the post.)
the trick to not internalizing that critical voice is to assess the level of respect that person has for you and your work. if they respect the work and what they say is hurtful, the feedback is worth considering, even if you end up tossing it out. if they dismiss or invalidate the work, you just have to go, "wow, you're an idiot and an asshole," and move on, hoping that they'll never read your work again. if they don't respect you now, they never will. their disrespect and the misunderstanding that arises from it comes from a place of fear and self-doubt, and no matter how good their work is, they are still a long way behind you in their writing journey. getting better at writing means getting better at reading and vice versa. if they aren't a good reader then they will never meet their potential as a writer.
the lesson i keep coming back to, that i try to encourage writers to remember, that often feedback that is hurtful may be flat-out wrong, but if you're upset by it, if you can't brush it off, that means it poked at something you've not yet seen, something that may have nothing to do with their feedback at all. maybe they tell you there's too much passive voice in your prose, too many "was"s, and that hurts, but what they're really saying--what they maybe can't meaningfully articulate--is that they want more texture, more style. they just see a problem they've been trained to believe is a problem but don't understand why they think it's a problem, and they try to prescribe a solution. it's like going to a doctor when you have the flu and she gives you a box of tissues. like, sure, the tissues will help your stuffy nose, but you need antibiotics.
the solution to getting over the flu is not to repeatedly blow your nose, just as the solution to "too much passive voice" is not making your verbs active. go through and highlight the sentences you personally find weak and play around with them a bit, recast them, not necessarily with active voice in mind but with elevation.
in short, it's not the feedback you should be paying attention to, but your feelings toward it.
this, as usual, got super long, but below the cut i share some stories about receiving feedback and how i felt about it/what i did with it, along with a lot of analogies.
once, i had a professor who was so mean. i mean he ripped my work to shreds. his crit letters were pages long; he often prescribed solutions and he also spoke with brutal honesty. but i loved it. i knew he really believed in me. he spent hours on my pieces, read them multiple times over, and put so much thought and care into his feedback, even if it was sometimes harsh. i personally believe in tactful honesty, but i'm fine with brutal honesty if it comes from a place of real caring.
there was one story i wrote where i completely disagreed with a suggestion he made. i told myself i would toss that comment aside and take the feedback that felt better and more in line with what i wanted the story to be. but i really valued this professor's opinion, and i trusted him, so i copied the story to a new document (to preserve the draft i believed would be better), and implemented his suggestions in the way i would follow a recipe i've never tried before--believing the measurements and times to be correct and following them, even if they don't sound quite right. i'm just trying it out, and i can adjust it next time.
but it was a good recipe, and he was right. implementing his feedback made the story so much better.
there have been times i've received outright cruel feedback from people, straight-up insults, and they've made me laugh because i knew that it came from a place of admiration, in the same way you watch terrible movies because your favorite actor is in them, or get upset with an athlete because they made a mistake that cost your team the game. you're still going to queue up the next terrible movie in the actor's filmography. you're still going to go to the next game. but someone who disrespects your work would join you in the baseball stadium, complaining that it's not hockey.
the first time i ever workshopped something, i took the feedback i received and implemented all of it. i had this underlying assumption that everyone knew more than me about my own work. it destroyed the work in question. i had over-revised it to the point of unreadability. i truly believe it's possible to revise something too much, or revise in the wrong direction, and you don't know what that looks like until you implement bad feedback and suddenly have clarity about the decisions you've made.
when you articulate your creative choices to build polemics against bad feedback, you become more confident in those choices. the truth that no one tells you is that if you're in a group of 10 people and they all give you feedback, probably only 1 person's feedback will be useful to you, 2 if you are very lucky. the opinion of the other 8-9 exist only to make you say, "you're wrong and here's why." this requires no change to the work itself, but it does change your attitude toward it, and next time you encounter a choice that someone questioned or criticized, you'll be able to implement it more intentionally.
there is, of course, a difference between justification and defense. defense comes from that same place of fear and self-doubt i mentioned before. justification comes from a place of understanding and confidence. it may be frustrating to receive feedback that's wrong, but it doesn't usually hurt. you should be able to brush it off with a kind of "you really just didn't read very carefully" or "you just don't get what i'm trying to do, and you didn't take the time to try to understand." this is, at worst, annoying. being misunderstood is a natural side effect of creating something, and over time it gets easier.
but if it hurts, being inquisitive about that pain, seeking out why you're feeling it, will teach you something.
i've got one more story for you.
a few days ago i was working on my Barbie fic, as you do, and i needed the title of a fake novel. i tossed in a title for a novel i never wrote and probably never would. in my memory, i had written the idea down in a notebook in 2018 and thought, "that might make a cool story one day," and never looked at it again.
when i went to look for that idea i'd written, i found i had in fact written it. i had written 35,000 words of it. i started reading it and i couldn't remember it at all. i wondered if someone hacked into my drive. like always when i read my older work, i see my pitfalls more clearly, things i still do to some degree that i still instinctively grab onto in drafting but have gotten better at revising out, or in some cases making it work. and like always, i see merit in the work. i read certain lines and i go, "wow, i wrote that?"
in this case i saw evidence of a dedication to setting and description i no longer have, and remembered why it used to be important to me. i mentioned in a post last month that i had re-read a YA novel, 3 NBs of Julian Drew, that seemed to have defined a big portion of my aesthetic when i was 12. part of that aesthetic is what i now call magical objects: tiny things that hold big meanings that otherwise wouldn't be acknowledged in the narrative. and in the case of this 35k thing i'd been working on, it was about a hoarder with a terminal illness who asks a boy to help her go through her things so her estranged daughter won't have to deal with it when the mother is gone. it's from the perspective of the boy, who has an interesting relationship with material things, because a fire destroyed everything he owned. and the process is hard for both of them.
and i remembered why i stopped writing it: a good friend of mine, one of my trusted early readers, called it boring, with the implication that he found all my work boring over the past two years we'd been reading for each other.
it's one thing to receive bad feedback on a finished piece. it can stand on its own. but this story was still just an infant, and i trusted this friend with it. i trusted him to respect me and encourage me, but it turned out that the entire time, he hadn't thought very highly of my work at all.
i stopped speaking to him, not just for that but for many other reasons as well, and his feedback hurt me so badly that not only did i set this project down, i forced myself to forget it and never again return to the things he found boring about it, the careful attention to detail and the slow-moving plot.
he was right in that it was not yet doing the work i wanted it to do, and in fact at the time i didn't really understand what i was aiming for. i was only compelled by these characters and this story, and tried to follow their lives as closely as i could. i was writing far above my skill level, which feels a bit like using a screwdriver instead of a power drill. you can get the job done, but it'll take a lot longer and a lot more effort, and there are some tasks you can't really do at all.
that was 5 years ago. a couple days ago, i set down the Barbie fic for a minute and started playing with that 35k, knowing what i know now, and with the skill and patience to maybe do something with it that has clearer ambitions it might be capable of reaching. only 2k of it or so is useful; the rest can be thrown out. but that's enough. it's a foundation for a story that i think is worth existing, and which many, many people would find boring. but there will be a few people who see in it the same things i do, and i'm writing for them.
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Ok ok I just got an idea to ask/suggest for a homecoming drabble.. 🤭🤗
Food fight.
May end up and spicy time.. May not... May end up in a group shower time.. Maybe not.. 👀🤷♀️ maybe a punishment for starting for whomever did... 🤷♀️🤭👀
Completely up to you. 💞🤗 completely trust you to do fantasticly breathtaking. 💞🤗😍
HOMECOMING DRABBLE: FOOD THIEF
Hello baby!!!!! So head's up I do have a sort of food fight one done for 30 Pieces of Home, Just a taste. But because I love you, I also wrote a little something something for you below. All credits go to the one and only, deranged smut-master @write-and-buried who helped me brainstorm this.
Homecoming Drabbles | Homecoming Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist
One of Santiago's most annoying quirks in the world, is how he always tries to steal your food.
When you're at a drive thru at McDonalds, and you turn in your seat to ask him what he wants, he'll always just shrug and say he's easy (which ha-- the only thing easy about that man is how easy it is to get his pants off). But by the time you've parked down the street, he'll dig his racoon-like hands into the paperbag and steal all your fries.
When you're at the counter of IHOP, texting him to ask if he wants anything, he'll always say no, and then proceed to steal at least two buttermilk pancakes and all of the syrup.
And being friends for as long as you two have, you can forgive that (most of the times). But there are fucking limits. Like when you've been at work all day dealing with snarky teenagers asking you what the real life application of math is all while you can hear their striped candy color bomb combo on candy crush.
All day, the only thing that managed to get you through the day (and not pull the fire alarm) was to visualize your happy place. You, on your couch, feet up on the coffee table, nursing a homemade sundae of Ben & Jerry's cookie dough with whipped cream and fresh strawberries that Molly had picked from her garden over the weekend-- still waiting for you in the fridge.
So when you come home, and do exactly that, your beautiful, magnificent sundae creation in your embrace as you get settled next to Frankie and put up your feet and turn on Netflix -- only to have Santiago plant his dump truck of a butt next to you on the other side and ask "is it any good?" while looking at your spoon, a dormant cavewoman of a survival instinct sparks with ember in your chest.
"Get your own Santiago."
"I don't want my own, I want yours. It looks tastier."
It takes all of two seconds, before you have the man trying to wrestle the spoon out of your closed fists.
Santiago is stronger than you. Always have been, so you never do know why you manage to hold your own for as long as you do in these ridiculous semi-wrestling matches you two have until he pins your back flat down against the seat of the cushions, your wrists circled in his large hands, as he grins victoriously, eyes sparkling with mischief above you.
Something cool and smooth, slides heavy over your chest, you barely even have a second to hear Frankie's voice, "be careful" as his hand shoots out, and catches the Sundae that's already dripping over you, cold and sticky with frothy cream.
"Fuck, Santiago, you got it all over me".
If it was an accident, Santiago sure doesn't act like it, he cocks his head to the side, observing you, that smile never waning as his eyes roam from your face down to your chest where the ice cream is dripping down the side of your collar down to your breast. And as cold as the ice cream had been just a second ago when it had dripped onto you, with the way that Santiago's eyes are burning onto you, your skin is overheated, prickling with heat.
"Santiago," Frankie grumbles, as he bends over settle the Sundae glass safely on the coffee table, out of the war zone, before he smacks Santiago on the shoulder. Rough enough to get him to sway on top of you. "Get off her, and let her get up," Frankie orders.
Despite the beginnings of a pout, the iron grip on your wrists lets off, and Santiago sits himself upright on the sofa, allowing you to get up as well.
"Baby, you got it all over," Frankie says.
You turn to him, and he's looking at you with something that is not quite the sympathy you were expecting. He looks amused, a playful smile already quirking at the corner of his lips.
"Here let me." His broad thumb wipes across your collarbone, smearing the dripping icecream from the skin.
Frankie's staring at it for a brief second, and it's all it takes. It goes so quick you can't even properly register the change in his facial features. How soft goes hard, warm goes burning, gentle goes primal, before he presses his thumb between his lips and sucks on it.
It leaves you no time at all and you don't get much of a chance to react. He is already lean closer, ducking down to press his plush warm mouth over the swell of your breast and then you feel the swipe of his broad tongue over your skin. Hot and wet, and the sensation makes you whine.
The soft bristle of his scruff, scrapes along your skin, chafes and tickles and fuck, it feels so damn good as he slides his mouth from your breast up to the hollow of your neck that it has you gripping your fingers into his hair as an anchor just in case you fall of the couch.
"Frank, seriously? Why do you get to lick ice-cream off her tits?"
You open your eyes (and god-- when did you close them in the first place) to see Santiago bristling. He's not even bothering to hide the pout.
There's a small part of you, the petty part, that is chanting your favorite hymn of "serves you right". That's what Santiago gets for making a mess of you in the first place. There's another part of you that can't look away from how gorgeous his lips are, red and plump that makes you want to kiss him and bite down on the bottom one until you have him moaning into your mouth.
"I made the mess, it's only fair I get to clean it up," he continues to gripe.
Frankie's mouth stops, letting off with a wet smack of a sound as he leaves one last kiss there before pulling up for air. His hand wraps around the back of Santiago's neck, fingers twisting into the thick black curls at the nape of it, before dragging the man closer. Closing the distance between their lips and licking into Santiago's mouth. And then Santiago is licking the taste of strawberries and cream on your skin from Frankie's mouth.
It's gorgeous, it's sweet, and fuck, it's a fucking beautiful sight. Your stomach is furling with warmth that spreads all the way to your cheeks and ear and you can't quite sit still.
Your eyes pull away from the sight of them towards the Sundae ice-cream, the whipped cream dripping from the crystal glass. You smile, as you lean over, reaching for it, as your other hand unbuttons your blouse.
From the corner of your eyes, Santiago's eyes catches yours, and you see the way his lips curve into an even deeper smile as he continues to kiss Frankie, throwing you a quick wink of approval.
One of your favorite quirks with Santiago is that while he makes messes, he always makes sure to clean up his mess.
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#santiago garcia#santiago garcia x reader#frankie morales#frankie morales x reader#triple frontier#triple frontier fanfic#triple frontier fic#oscar isaac#pedro pascal#homecoming drabbles#cici drabbles#cici writes#💌 asks
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Fictober 2023
Day 20 - Prompt: "What if we're wrong?"
Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3
The fire was dying, and Gale had drawn the short straw that night in being the one to put it out. He fetched the nearby pail of water, then paused as something pale caught his eye. Astarion was still by the fire, working very intently on some manner of embroidery on the back of a shirt.
Gale watched him for a moment, then finally asked, “Something on your mind?”
“No.” Astarion didn’t so much as look up at him, focused instead on his stitching.
Gale shifted, then let out a breath. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the shirt. Astarion finally looked up at him, then gave a little shrug as he handed off the shirt. Gale held it up—there was no embroidery, just an ever-growing spiral of silver thread. Someone was looking for something to keep himself occupied.
Gale didn’t say anything, but the raised brow as he showed Astarion his work so far made the vampire sigh.
“Yes, all right, fine. I’m thinking. I do that sometimes, you know,” he snipped, snatching the shirt back. “I’ll put out the fire. You go to bed.”
“I think we’re past that point now,” Gale said, settling down beside Astarion. “So. What’s on your mind?”
Astarion’s thumb went up to his mouth, blunt front teeth nibbling at the nail there. Oh, dear. This was something nerve-wracking, then.
“It’s…Falerin and Halsin. They’ve gone off to…enjoy the night,” he said quietly. Gale’s eyebrows shot up.
“Do they…are they…surely they wouldn’t go behind your back?”
“No, no. No, Fal was…oddly sweet about the whole thing. Insisted he would decline if I wanted him to, assured it wasn’t anything to do with me. And I didn’t want to deny him some fun after all the shit we’ve been through. And gods know we’ve all seen him actively wipe away his drool whenever Halsin’s frankly obscene biceps are on display.” He let out a breath, shaking his head as his nail returned to his teeth. “So no, it’s not the sex that’s bothering me.”
Gale clasped his hands together. “So what is?”
Astarion was quiet for a very, very long time, gaze far-away. Finally, in a very small voice, he asked “What if we’re…wrong? For each other?”
Gale blinked. One day, he thought to himself, he was going to write a book if he survived this: How To Be A Confidant To Both Halves Of A Couple In The Face Of World-Ending Catastrophe. Well, maybe with a snappier title than that. But he shook his head, coming back to the moment and trying his best to find a good way to answer that.
“Well, I think Falerin adores you,” he finally settled on saying, hands rubbing his knees.
Astarion shook his head. “I know he does. He’s very obvious; I’d love to play poker against him some time because I know I’d bleed him dry…” He squinted at the unintentional pun, then shook his head and sighed, hands going to press against his eyes. “But that’s not the issue. I…Halsin is everything I’m not. He’s…big, he’s warm, he’s good-natured and friendly…he’s nice. And I’m none of those things.”
“Well, no, you’re…” Gale trailed off. Oh, dear. “You’re great conversation.”
Astarion lifted his head to send the wizard a flat look, then sighed as he rested his chin in his hand. “I trust Falerin. I fully believe that it’s just a fling. But…maybe, for once, I shouldn’t be so focused on just getting mine. Call things off and nudge him toward someone…better.”
“I think that’s very selfless. And also completely idiotic.”
Astarion sat up straight, bristling. “Idiotic?” He scoffed; it was a little bit of relief, having the usual Astarion back if just for a moment. “Well, you love him, too, don’t you? Wouldn’t you want him to have a good life once all the rubble clears? They can…go off into the woods and enjoy nature’s gifts and…and he won’t be tied to a liability. Which, even if I do survive this Netherbrain nonsense and I do rip Cazardor to pieces and get my freedom, I will be so long as I’ve got my condition. And that’s not even going into the two centuries of baggage I’m well-aware I have.”
Gale stayed quiet as Astarion railed off, letting him go until he ran out of steam. Once he finished, he looked back to the embers in the fire. “The heart wants what the heart wants,” he finally said. “We don’t choose who we love. And if you can look back on everything we’ve gone through so far, look at all the times Falerin could have called it off but didn’t, and you think you know better than him what he wants, that’s more selfish than keeping him, I’d say.” He looked up. “He’s an adult. He can make his own choices. And—this may be harsh—but I think you of all people should know how…cruel it is to make someone else’s choices for them.”
Astarion stared at Gale for a long moment, red eyes glinting with the dying fire. His face twitched in preparation for an argument, but ultimately he sighed.
“Fine,” he said, giving a huff as he plunked his chin back in his hand. “But I still think it’s a mistake.”
“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Gale said brightly. “You’ve got plenty going for you that Halsin doesn’t. You’re attractive—in a…pointy, mean sort of way. You’re entertaining…also in a pointy, mean sort of way. Your embroidery is beautiful. And, really, I don’t think there’s a single thing Halsin can give Falerin that you ca—”
He was cut off by what was unmistakably the sound of a bear’s roar, off in the wilds nearby. There were no bears this close to Baldur’s Gate. That meant it had to be…
“…well,” Gale finally said after clearing his throat. “Maybe there’s…one thing he can give him that you can’t.” He looked over in alarm as Astarion’s head fell into his hands, accompanied by a long, distraught groan. “Or. Or! I’m sure we can find a…a spell to imitate wild shape for non-druids. We just have to…”
“Gale, shut up,” Astarion snapped, not lifting his head. There was another roar in the distance, and Astarion let out an even more despondent groan. “Oh my gods, I’m in love with a bear-fucker.”
Fictober 2023 Drabble Master Post
#fictober23#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion#gale of waterdeep#Gale Dekarios: Gay Drama Whisperer#He didn't ask for this life#The day he has to actually mediate a fight is the day the orb goes off#He's too old and too tired for this
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Modes of Surface Entertainment
"Perseus, I thought you said these games of yours were stress relieving?"
"They are." he grunted.
Triton raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at his (frankly) vicious finger smashing, "You're exuding the exact opposite of tranquilness."
"Trust me. I am calm, cool, collected, and having so much fun right now." he replied in a borderline unhinged tone, "Very relaxing."
"...Indeed."
Prince Triton had very little to base on whether that statement was true or not, but he was almost certain his brother was trying to convince himself.
He stared at the flat screen tv and tried to make sense of what exactly he was looking at, but try as he may, he couldn't grasp the novelty and settled for leaning on his brother instead.
He positively loathed being on land and made it a point to surface only when deemed absolutely necessary, he would much rather spend his time in their Lord Father's beautiful realm in the oceans, but his demigod brother practically dragged him up here when he was made aware that he, Prince Triton, had never played a video game during the entirety of his immortal existence.
And yes, the game room in Atlantis had plenty of dazzling arcade games to choose from, amongst other choices, but they didn't entice him in any way to play them at all. He could have gone the rest of his said immortal existence rather content having never known about the 'joys' of video games. Thank you very much.
But alas, here he was. Sat in their Father’s newly refurbished cabin and experiencing a mild case of dry eye of all things.
What a nuisance.
Triton summoned water between his fingers and swept them across his eyes, "How can you stand looking at these screens for so long without proper hydration?" He studied his brother closely and noticed something concerning, "Perseus, when was the last time you blinked?" the younger Prince’s expression had assumed a disturbing blank faced, wide-eyed, thousand yard stare.
"I've been working on this level for two and a half hours and I refuse to blink until I beat this one part."
Goodness, what a mess this godling of his was.
He sighed through his nose in resignation and put an arm around his brother's back, smiling fondly, "Your surface habits are very strange, but quite charming."
This amazing art piece was actually finished since Aug 2022 and my DUMBASS forgot to post it 🤡 This was originally going to be a standalone post, but since it took so damn long for me to remember I decided to write up a quick drabble to accompany it.
Permission to post the image was given to me by the incredibly talented artist on Twitter @/Lakes_DownSouth, who is an absolute GODDESS with putting up with my 2am nonsense. Please support her work here
She's also an animator! And well...let's just say I'm more than a little excited about the possibilities!
#percy jackson#percy jackson fanfiction#pjato#pjato/hoo#percy jackson fanart#bonding(continued story)#bonding drabble#triton#this is very late#holy hell
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How I Use TransTape
So as some of you know, I've recently tried three types of tape for binding-- KT tape, off-brand trans tape from Amazon, and name brand TransTape. KT tape was less than ideal, the off-brand tape was better but very similar and not the best, and currently the name brand TransTape is working well. I am not well-experienced at all with this, but I wanted to list some things that have worked for me and things that I wish I had done. Almost all of these, however, are things in the instructions or in online how-tos.
I also want to preface that I have small-to-medium breasts. I would say I am a B or maybe C cup. Your cup size will affect how much tape you use and how it will look for you.
First, I wish I had done a test strip like advised on the sites and boxes. What I mean by this is sticking a small piece to your skin to see how you react to it. I think this would've prepared me for the itchiness.
What helped with keeping the tape on the skin and from pulling off (even a bit with the off-brand tape) was rounding out the 4 edges. You don't have to cut off a lot, just round them out so it sticks to the skin better.
For me, I used about 3 blocks on the tape. The tapes I used had grids on the back of it with a few little lines between bolded lines. I used the bolded lines (and thinner lines if needed) as a guide for how long to cut the tape. This may be different for you.
Going off of that, since my breasts aren't very large, I use about 3 strips of the on-brand tape. I used a lot more for the KT and off-brand tape. However, I also like to flatten my chest a lot, not masculinize it. Your ideal flatness will affect how much tape you use, along with your cup size.
For KT and off-brand tape, you can just carefully pull it off or shower to get the tape off. For the on-brand TransTape, I highly recommend using the oil (or something similar to it) because it hurts so much to pull this tape off your skin.
If you have someone you trust to see you in a vulnerable moment (you know, seeing you possibly struggle with the tape and also without bindage), I recommend having them there with you. My girlfriend helped me a lot, especially when I was melting down at how the process was going. Your person could give you emotional support, push you through the process, or help you/do it for you.
There are more tips you can find online, and there are videos on YouTube that may help you figure out the process. Unfortunately, for larger cup sizes, there are some lacking resources, and also unfortunately, I can not fully help you out there. I can just say, if this is something you want and can get, give it a try and take it slow. It might not work, but it could.
And lastly, remember, your gender is not tied to your presentation. If you don't wanna bind for any reason, you never have to. And if you want to bind, even if you don't have dysphoria about your top, go for it! I full heartedly believe that gender and transness should be about happiness and fulfillment, and it is all very personal.
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The Making of 'No Robots Allowed'
A short visual novel I made, and how I made it.
No Robots Allowed - A Short Game in the Date Time❤️ Universe.
On Sunday, I released a small visual novel called 'No Robots Allowed', a post-apocalyptic comedy with a bit of romance & horror put in.
You’re at the doors of PARADISE…
…but it seems that the security protocol doesn’t trust you.
Can you prove you’re not a robot?
If you haven't played yet, check it out before reading the post!
Play the Game!
The Making of No Robots Allowed
This was for a game jam called "O2A2" (Only One of Any Asset), a minimalist focused jam that challenges developers to make a game with as little as possible:
-Only one character
-Only one background.
-Only one sound effect.
-Only one song.
-Less than a thousand words.
Game Jams are an amazing way to get started on game development, and O2A2 is both a challenge and an opportunity to work within constraints & make something without overexerting yourself with asset creation.
For last year's O2A2, I worked on "Long Time No Life", a romantic / comedy / drama about resurrection and love.
This year for "No Robots Allowed" I wanted to take the opportunity to expand a tiny bit into the universe of Date Time, while still making something unique that can stand on its own.
Design
Do you know I can do more than Pixel Art? It's true!
While the game does take place in the Date Time ❤️ universe, I also wanted to work on something that was very different from the 8-bit look.
I did want to make a more 'realistic' environment for this game, especially since it was going to be the environment the player was going to spend the entire time in. Even with Melissa❤️ & Morris❤️, I had different environments on screen to show variety.
The environment also had to be high detailed so that it wasn't tiresome to look at, and also allowed me the freedom to have the camera pan from one part to another to give a more dynamic feeling to a piece that would be largely static.
The environment is largely a mixture of flat color & texture, with blobs of lighting painted on top.
There were a few times I used photos, for instance, Petya's sides are actually ends of lightbulbs.
Our Robotic Protector
Petya, the security protocol, was originally a large robot with big hulking arms. On the screen, I drew them to have a head and face, similar to the characters of Melissa, Morris & Anna.
However, I made the decision to step back from giving them a 'human face', since technically Petya wasn't a "Date Time" software entity, they're developed for something completely different, and that would not require 'human features'.
I then made the decision to get rid of the 'body' in replacement of them being a hanging monitor.
Story-wise, it was convenient, as the entire theme of the game is about the separation of humans & robots, and having Petya being as visually non-human as possible was a cool way to drive the point home.
(Early version of the 'body-less' Petya concept)
A Mad Dash to the End
For me, development of a story for games is always an evolving element as the game gets closer and closer to finished.
I do always walk into a project with an outline, but things get altered so quickly as I begin drawing out assets and programming the game.
All of my game jam games have had some drastic changes late in their production cycle, and 'No Robots' is no different. A 'finished' version of the script was done Friday night, roughly a little over 24 hours until I was to publish the game.
Even during these late stages, I was still changing things. Adjusting designs of the face, adding / removing things in the story, and experimenting with new visual effects and shaders at my disposal.
I would love to say that I always walk into a game project with a strong and unchangeable plan, but that is just not how I work with games.
So much of my creative process is in the moment, and veering into new avenues that I may not have considered during the sketchbook / concept phases of the game.
Speaking of facial expressions, for instance, Petya's 'face' wasn't finalized until I was nearly done with the script. At the end of Thursday, I drew the first 'pack' of expressions for Petya based on what I 'felt' was most fitting for them.
Obviously, this system just wouldn't work under other team setups. If I was a dedicated artist on a project, and someone ELSE was writing. I definitely would be annoyed if the writer dropped me an insight on how a character would look 48 hours before everything was to be due.
I am a professional artist in another industry, and you never want to be 'that guy'.
Causing psychological damage ON YOURSELF though, is a little bit more acceptable. And... sometimes FUN! :D
Will We See Petya in Date Time?
I'm surprised by all the positive feedback I got for Petya, so I guess at this point I don't have any choice.
Thank you everyone for playing 'No Robots Allowed', more Date Time content is incoming.
Sign up for the newsletter to get these write-ups (AND MORE) earlier!
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There's something about the way you color your art that really intrigues me. It just looks SO good. There's something about the way you shade your drawings that just give me such a carefree feeling, which is something I really strive to feel when drawing something myself. If it's not a bother for you, I'd love to know how you use the colors to make your drawings look so beautiful ( ；∀；)
OMG THANKS and awww I feel so honored to get trusted for an ask like this… 🥹 Since the beginning my main focus on my digital art journey was to be good at coloring, to have vibrant, saturated and recognizable colors. And it makes me very happy to see that, while I still have a very long path, it's giving results that make me feel proud!
But enough with the storytimes! I did a little breakdown + tips on what I do when coloring. I don't follow the exact same steps on every single piece or texture I do it depends on how much time I want to spend on it but I always keep them on mind. Take them as a 'checklist'.
Disclaimer, just in case: I'm not a professional nor an art student. Everything I've learned had been by just observing, videos, inspirations and my own trial and error. This is not a guide on what everyone should do, but just a breakdown on what I do.
When I shade, I think about 6 different colors:
Base color.
The main shadow.
A strong light. Saturaded.
The highlight line. A brighter color than 3.
Ambience light. This color is a reflection of the surroundings.
One color with a different hue than the others surrounding it. May feel out of tune with the others, but I like how it stands out.
Let's take Barbiedede for some examples and observations still feeling proud with how he came out!.
❗ Extras:
It's cool to have a thin line of a different color where the light ends or the shadow starts. Like the yellow ❗️ on Dedede's hands, or the orange ❗ on his beak.
As I mentioned above, ALWAYS change the hue when selecting a new color. This makes it look more dynamic.
Keep in mind different surfaces work different. There's stronger contrasts and highlights on the metal than the fabric.
Avoid grays, I tend to have a hard time shading them. Keep sure every color you use has at least a little of saturation.
Learn how blending modes work and experiment with them! I personally love to give final touches with an overlay layer.
Don't be afraid of breaking rules ❗ or adding even more colors.
Coloring lineart is a great extra support for the lights!
This was for a drawing with a flat and simpler rendering, but I also apply these rules when I go for the softer and more elaborated shading. The only difference is I smooth the colors with a softer brush, and apply way more blending layers.
If you want me to breakdown another piece or ask for other tips feel free to ask! I'm far from being an expert but I'm willing to share what I know.
Alaiganuza is a big inspiration of mine, the colors are simply fantastic and has some guides too.
I also like watching Marco Bucci's videos. He has pretty interesting videos and facts about colors and how the human eye perceives them.
btw I'm sorry for taking a while to answer, I've been a little busy and stressed and wanted to prepare a proper post for this ask.
#dee's asks#again tysm for the ask and your patience! i feel honored#btw anyone is free to add resources or more tips#as i said i'm not an expert and take drawing as a hobbie#but i'm always willing to learn more!
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Hey how are you today. I hope you're well. May I please request a part 3 of kiss from a rose/ rose petals on the floor.
Everlasting Rose
(Part 1 | Part 2)
Pairing: Dh!Master x Reader
Word Count: 2100
Summary: Final part to this series, follows on from previous part
Warnings: none
For: anon
A/N: Sorry this took so long, I got covid 😞. Luckily it’s not too bad, but I’m still a bit out of it. Anyway, I hope you like this! (Also my requests are open again)
You were disoriented when you woke up, your brain desperately trying to piece together the information. Firstly, you knew you weren’t in your room on The Doctor’s TARDIS, nor in your flat. Secondly, you definitely remembered going to an abandoned museum with The Doctor, Graham, Ryan and Yaz. However you were no longer in the museum, and your friends weren’t with you.
Groggily, you pushed yourself up to take in more of your surroundings. You had been sleeping on a plush purple sofa, and someone had placed a matching blanket over your sleeping form. Then as you looked around more, memories started to push themselves to the surface. Memories of the dusty room, a man in the shadows, a mirror.
The Master.
As though he could read your mind, the man himself walked into the room, a tray in his hand with mugs of tea and snacks. He caught your eye, and looked a little startled before schooling himself into a more relaxed posture again. You were still sleepy and trying to piece together everything that had happened in your mind, so you didn’t say anything. The Master placed the tray down on a nearby table and walked over to you, crouching down in front of you once he got to the sofa.
“Did you sleep alright?”
Well, that definitely hadn’t been what you expected him to say. Taken aback you nodded on autopilot.
“Are you hungry? Or thirsty?” Strangely, he seemed to be showing genuine curiosity.
“Uhhh, I’m mostly confused and disoriented.”
The Master chuckled at that, reaching out a hand to cup your face, which you automatically leaned into.
“You’re on my TARDIS. I used a short range teleport to get you out of the museum, and then I took you here. Currently we’re in the Time Vortex.” He supplied helpfully.
“You were- You were who I danced with that night in Italy. The one who gave me the rose.” You didn’t pose this as a question, you already knew the answer.
“I was.”
“Why am I here?”
“That night, I was meant to kill you, but then I saw you standing in that garden and all I wanted to do was hold you. There’s something between us - I know you feel it too. I won’t force you into anything, I just took you here to keep you safe.” His voice was gentle, and he was stroking your face with his thumb.
Surprisingly, you felt safe. Still, there was a logical part of your mind that knew The Master couldn’t be trusted - at least not yet.
Again, you questioned whether The Master could read your mind, “Look, just give me two weeks, if you don’t want to stay after that then I’ll drop you back on Earth.”
Hesitantly, you agreed, hoping you wouldn’t end up regretting it.
——
The past two weeks had gone surprisingly well. The Master had taken you all over the universe, much like The Doctor did, but somehow you had enjoyed the adventures even more. No longer did you have to worry about getting into some sort of trouble if you didn’t want to. It was nice to be able to relax on planets, to properly experience what they had to offer.
Your company was nice too, which had definitely thrown you off at first. However, The Master had proved himself, ensuring you never got harmed and he listened to you more often than not.
One of your favourite adventures had been to Panunerth, a planet that was best described as a winter wonderland. You’d loved it, walking around wrapped up warm, but not warm enough to completely keep the cold out. The Master had lead you on a nature walk, which had gone well for the first part, then you had had the brilliant idea to throw a snowball at him. From there the two of you had a full on snowball fight. By the end of it you were chilled to the bone, so The Master had lead you back on the path towards a local town.
On the way you were shivering, so The Master had pulled you into his side as though it were the most natural thing in the world, and to you it felt as though it was. The town itself was magical, fairy lights and bunting were hung all along the streets, and there was a dusting of snow on every surface. The Master had pulled you into a little picturesque café, and ordered a hot beverage to help you warm up.
By the time you’d gotten back to the TARDIS it was late evening on Panunerth, the sun in its final stages of setting. You stood in the doorway to the TARDIS, simply admiring the view, The Master stood behind you doing the same. You were almost too caught up in your awe to notice the rose that appeared at your side, held out in one of The Master’s hands.
Cautiously, you reached out for the rose as The Master handed it to you. As you inspected the rose, twirling it around slowly in your hands, you couldn’t help but long for the original. The one that had been left behind on The Doctor’s TARDIS.
“What’s wrong, love?” The Master asked as he came to stand next to you, concern in his voice and on his face.
“This is perfect, I just- sorry it’s stupid.” You felt ridiculous, here he was giving you everything you could ask for, and yet you still asked for more?
To your surprise, The Master reached out and gently guided your face to look at his. “It’s not, I want to make this perfect for you, tell me how I can.”
“It’s not that big a deal I just- I miss the rose that you gave me. I kept it in a vase on my room in The Doctor’s TARDIS, I’d look at it every night before I went to sleep and every morning when I woke up. It just meant a lot to me.”
The Master looked at you with a mix of guilt and love, pulling you into his embrace. Neither of you needed to say anything more after that, opting to stay in that moment with each other. Eventually you’d started to shiver again, even with The Master’s arms wrapped around you, and the two of you headed inside.
Something had changed that night, though neither of you dared to admit it aloud. All of your adventures after that had felt that little bit more romantic, and though you could barely believe it you found yourself falling in love with The Master.
——
At the end of the two weeks you barely even hesitated to say yes when he asked if you wanted to stay with him. He’d laughed at you slightly, surprised at how quickly you’d said yes. Then the two of you sat there for a moment before The Master leant in and kissed you. Surprised, you had let out a squeak, though you soon melted into the kiss.
He was softer than you’d imagined, though there was still a roughness in the way he cradled you - as though he was worried you would disappear any moment.
Your relationship had only grown from their, your adventures turning into dates and romantic getaways (though there was still the occasional heist). Everything had been going amazingly, which is why you should have known to keep an eye out for danger.
The Master lead you out of the TARDIS onto a space shuttle somewhere in the far future. He’d landed you on one of the leisure decks, and started to tell you all about the different facilities they offered, though a ‘universally famous’ restaurant sounded the most intriguing. Luckily, The Master had already made a reservation, and the two of you had a lovely time together. You loved his company, loved spending time with him, so much so that you rarely thought about your previous life anymore.
However, this didn’t mean that you had completely forgotten it. After the two of you left the restaurant, you decided to simply go for a walk around the ship, though you stopped short when you spotted a blue box in the distance. It was unmistakably The Doctor’s TARDIS, the one you had travelled in many months ago, and it made you feel a strange mix of hope and dread. The Master had spotted it as well, scanning the area for any sign of your old friends.
“You know, I think I’d prefer an evening in front of the library fireplace.” The Master hummed in agreement and started to lead you back to his TARDIS.
Truthfully, you did miss your friends, but you also knew that you’d prefer to avoid the hurt a reunion would bring. The two of you were walking hand-in-hand, and you couldn’t stop your grip from tightening. Unfortunately, as you rounded the final corner you saw the four of them stood in front of The Master’s TARDIS. However much you wanted to run in the opposite direction, you knew you couldn’t.
When your friends spotted you they hurried over. You hated the way your heart sped up from nerves, though you were comforted by The Master’s thumb rubbing the back of your hand.
“Let her go.” The Doctor demanded as she stood in front of the two of you.
The Master, easily slipping into an his cocky yet sinister act, bowed his head and held up your conjoined hands, giving a dramatic show of letting go. You felt a pang of disappointment, missing his warm touch.
“She’s free to do as she wishes.”
The two of you knew this, and now your friends did as well. For a tense moment, none of you moved or spoke, everyone waiting for someone else to make a move.
The Doctor held out her hand to you, “Come on, let’s get back to the TARDIS.”
You didn’t reach out to take her hand, instead you shook your head and moved towards The Master slightly. You heard one of your friends let out a small gasp.
“Before you start throwing accusations around, I’m not hypnotised. The Master gave me a choice, and I chose to stay with him.” You told them sincerely.
The Doctor’s eyes flickered between the two of you, and you could see her brain ticking away - trying to figure out what exactly was going on.
“Why?” You knew that she must be able to figure it out, she just needed verbal confirmation.
“I love him.” It was so easy to say, purely because of how genuine a statement it was.
You were focused on The Doctor’s reaction, she seemed angry and sad, though mostly it seemed that she was resigned to the fact. You knew that she would have seen this coming, even if she didn’t want it to be true, she’s had time to adjust. On the other hand, Graham, Ryan and Yaz had not.
“How? How can you love the bloke who tried to kill us?” Yaz queried, distressed at your statement.
“Yeah, are you 100% sure he’s not brainwashing or hypnotising you?” Graham backed her up, just as frustrated.
Ryan, meanwhile, seemed to be contemplating the information. He’d always been more insightful than he let on, no doubt a trait he’d picked up from his grandmother.
The Master took your hand again, and you turned to smile at him. “You won’t understand, but that’s okay, I’m happy with him.”
Yaz looked as though she was about to let out another protest, but The Doctor placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Let’s go, fam.”
Neither Ryan nor Yaz looked as though they wanted to follow her, nevertheless as she moved around the you and The Master they followed, walking back to their TARDIS. Graham followed last, turning towards you and offering a small smile.
“See you around.”
You smiled back, not knowing what to say, he seemed to understand you feelings anyway as he gave you a nod before continuing onwards. You stood and watched your friends walk away until they were out of your view, and though you hated to admit it you felt as though a giant weight had been lifted off of your shoulders.
“Back to the TARDIS then?” The Master queried with a soft smile that you couldn’t help but return.
The two of you walked the final few steps, though you paused right outside the door, looking back at the empty hallway one last time.
“By the way, I love you too.” The Master said, causing you to whip your head around to face him.
Grinning like a madman, you snaked your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Despite loosing your friends, you couldn’t have been happier and you knew that you’d made the right choice.
Breaking apart, The Master gazed at you with love, before reaching behind him to open the door to his TARDIS.
“Come on my love, adventures await.”
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Spellbound Serendipity
Incubus! Trafalgar Law x Witch! OC
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Monkey D. Melodia (My OC)
AU: Magic school, Magic world
Rating: M (For some sexual content further down the line, cussing, and mentions of violence)
Summary: Monkey D. Melodia was so excited to finally have her familiar and be initiated into upperclassmen status. That was until a supposed prank went horribly wrong and caused her to be bonded to an Incubus!
Now the witch and Incubus duo must learn how to navigate daily life with this new entanglement.
Master Jinbei may have some insight into Law's past and what sets him apart from others Incubus.
Will the bond between witch and Incubus grow stronger or will these two souls locked together be forced to suffer under mistrust and pain?
Chapter 2: A routine and a secret
"Just so we're clear, I am not sleeping on the floor," Law grumbled, giving a disapproving look at the Full sized bed in the room.
"I'm not sleeping on the floor either," Mel said, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking down at the floor. She hadn't really thought about what would be affected by the now bond she shared with the grumpy Incubus until they had gotten back to her dorm room. "Come to think of it… if you aren't able to go too far from me then how are we gonna take showers?" Mel asked as a blush began to rise on her cheeks. She definitely didn't think about that part until now.
"Looks like you're gonna have to trust me," Law replied, a sly looking grin slowly forming on his lips. He then plopped down next to her on the edge of the bed and looked at her. He reached out with a clawed finger and lifted a piece of hair away from her face.
Melodia shivered a little at the action, she didn't dare spare a glance at him in fear that he was going to hypnotize her or something. She sighed to herself as she knew that at the moment there was no other way around their predicament. "Fine… I guess I can trust you for now, but you do anything perverted then I will spray you with Holy Water," Melodia retorted, her blush getting a bit darker.
"See, that wasn't so hard was it?" Law replied mocking her from earlier and then he let out a soft laugh at her threat. "You do know that Holy Water doesn't work on all demons right? It's fine I wouldn't dream of being perverted with stupid witch like you," He added after a moment earning a glare from the girl beside him.
Melodia rolled her eyes "That's fine, I'll eventually figure out something you're weak to or afraid of, but for now I want to take a shower and get ready for bed. I have another day of classes in the morning," Melodia said and then took a deep breath.
"Would it help if I turn away while you undress?" Law asked with a small groan of disappointment.
"Please…" Melodia answered quietly and then waited for the Incubus to turn his back to her.
"Speaking of trust, how do I know you aren't gonna do something to hurt me when I turn my back to you?" Law asked after a moment of just listening to the sound of Melodia's robes rustling. He squeezed his eyes shut a little tighter as if it would prevent the thoughts he began to form in his mind.
She had a beautiful face, with soft looking chubby cheeks. From the glances he had taken of her rare curves he'd seen under her loose robes, he was already guessing that her body must also be just as beautiful. He then began to wonder what her skin must feel like, was it soft and warm like most humans? What would it look like for her hair to be splayed out under her while she laid flat on the bed at his mercy and…
"Hey emo boy are the lights on upstairs?" Mel's voice broke him out of his thoughts. He clenched his fist, perfect timing too because he knew that if he let his thoughts go another step further then he'd be having to awkwardly explain why his dick was hard.
He took a deep breath and rolled his eyes at the new nickname that she'd thrown at him. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine… let's get this over with already because my body is exhausted," He answered flatly and then he snapped his fingers.
As he snapped his fingers his normal clothes disappeared leaving him in only a towel wrapped around his waist. Melodia blinked for a moment as she was now able to view a gorgeously toned chest littered with tattoos. He even had a perfectly groomed treasure trail!
"Now look who's being perverted," Law teased seeing the mesmerized look on her face. He knew that look. He'd fucked enough ladies and gents to know that it was most definitely attraction.
Melodia blinked and quickly turned away from him, her face flushing a dark shade of pink again. "Shut up emo boy and c'mon" She shot back at him and then she led them to the bathroom.
Taking a shower was definitely an experience. Melodia refused to stand naked in front of Law primarily because of him being an Incubus. The other reason was because she had never been naked in front of a man before. She was still a virgin unlike her older brother Ace and had no idea what to do when it came to sex.
Witch and Incubus took turns in the stand up shower with one of their hands sticking out of the cracked open door. They were in this predicament because an invisible chain was revealed on both their wrists once water touched it. "I really hope we don't have to do this for the rest of eternity," Law mused while he took his unchained arm to scrub his hair.
"I hope not either, but if we do then we'll just have to adjust to the circumstances. Animals adapt to their circumstances to survive," Melodia replied leaning against the outside of the shower door to give him as much movement as possible.
Law poked his head out of the shower door, his shaggy black bangs hanging in his eyes. "That's not all animals do to survive ya know," He whispered in her ear. He then teased her by darting his tongue out to lick her earlobe before he quickly stuck his head back into the shower.
"PERV!" Melodia shrieked, her cheeks now burning because the delicate lick he left to her earlobe gave her a weird tingling sensation. She then yanked on the chain and caused Law to smack into the shower door with a resounding thud.
"OW! Geez I'm sorry," He groaned and glared at the door to the shower. After a moment he felt the chain go a little slack again so he went back to finishing with his shower.
Once they were both finished, Law mumbled something under his breath. A minute later a weird noise rang out along with a weird blue looking light. He then came out of the shower dressed in a pair of yellow and black sleep pants, a heart that matched one on his arm along the leg.
Melodia looked confused and in awe as she continued to stand there wrapped in her towel. "How in hell did you do that?" Melodia asked, earning a chuckle from Law.
"What? You mean to tell me that you're a witch and you don't know how to perform a spell for clothes? Pathetic" Law teased glancing up and down at her towel clad body.
Melodia realized he was checking her out and clenched the towel closer to her body. "I'm still a beginner at magic so no I haven't learned that kind of spell yet. Quit that!" She snaps glaring at him.
"Yeah, yeah, lemme help you with that then" Law answered barking out a laugh and then he took a deep breath. "Room!" He said aloud and suddenly Melodia was surrounded in the blue light she had seen come from the shower. "Shambles" He then said after a long minute of leaving Melodia in anticipation. As the second word left his lips, she looked down to see she was in one of her favorite nightgowns.
Once the blue light was gone she slowly looked up at him. "Uh… thank you…" She mumbled and then she went over to the sink to brush her teeth.
The rest of the night went fairly uneventful bar the small argument the two had about what position would be best for them to sleep in. In the end they found a way to sleep facing away from each other, their wrists attached together laying on top of them. That was how they fell asleep, but definitely wasn't how they woke up.
The next morning…
The sound of the obnoxious and loud Navi alarm clock woke him first, much to the Incubus' dismay. He looked over with tired eyes to see that it was only 6:00 am.
He realized that sometime in the night, Melodia had rolled over and was now laying with her head on his shoulder. The Incubus part of him wanted to take advantage of this situation, but something was stopping him. He glanced down at her sleeping form, she looked so peaceful and it was actually adorable.
His mind then began to wander about what it might be like to wake up like this next to her every morning. He imagined it would be warm and fuzzy like the feeling he had in his stomach at the moment. No! He was an Incubus. He sold his soul years ago, he wasn't allowed to have this peace because he gave it away.
He didn't really regret the reason for why he made the deal, he just regretted making the deal at all. He wished he would have thought more rationally and listened to Cora. Now he was stuck in the tortuous hell that was knowing he didn't deserve to have anything normal or good in his life. Incubi don't have families.
Suddenly he felt her begin to stir awake. He realized his arm was still around her and panicked trying to roll away. This ended with him toppling off the bed and onto the floor.
"W-Whoa! Hey!" Melodia cried hoarsely as she toppled over and landed on top of him on the floor. "What was that for? Have you ever heard of an alarm clock before?" Mel questioned as she groggily tried to get to her bearings.
She blinked a few times as she realized what position they had landed in. Realizing how dirty this seemed, she quickly jumped off of him and clutched her chest.
Law blushed a little as well, but turned his face away so that she couldn't see it. "U-Uh yeah… I haven't," He lied because he was not about to risk her finding out the real reason why he freaked out. "Why does it have to be so damn loud and obnoxious?" He growled pretending to glare up at the clock on her bedside table.
"Because I'm a heavy sleeper and if I don't have it like that then I won't wake up on time," Melodia answered plainly and then she stretched and let out a yawn. She then stood up and dragged the grumpy Incubus into the bathroom to start her morning routine.
Lunch Period
"Alright class, remember to practice your luminous spell as we will be using it for the moon water collection field trip next Friday," Master Jinbei announced as the bell sounded for the lunch period to begin.
He then watched as the students began to file out of his classroom, each one saying their pleasantries. "Oh… Miss Monkey can I see you for just a second" He spoke up as Melodia was getting ready to leave with Law floating over her.
Melodia paused for a moment as she finished packing up her knapsack. "Yes Master, am I in trouble?" She asked nervously. Law also felt a chill of unease run through him for some reason and it caused him to bare his fangs.
Jinbei chuckled softly seeing the Incubus' reaction and waved them both off. "No, no, of course not child. I had heard about what happened yesterday and I wanted to just talk to you for a moment to see how you were," Jinbei reassured her and then he invited her over to his desk so that they could both sit down.
Melodia instantly calmed down and followed her teacher in sitting down by his desk. "Um yes sir, I'm surviving I suppose…I still don't know what really happened. I didn't mean for this to happen though," Melodia said, yanking a little on the invisible chain.
"Hmm I see, well from what I've observed so far about your permanent guest is that he doesn't seem to be like other Incubus. He's a lot tamer than others I've seen," Jinbei replied, looking over Law for a moment. It was like the Fishman was looking for something on Law, what it was, Law didn't know.
"Geez thanks for talking about me like I'm not right here or anything," Law quipped sarcastically and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Hush emo boy," Mel hissed up at him before turning to look back at her teacher. "What do you mean Sir? I thought Incubus were all the same,"
"Not quite. Incubus and Succubus are actually much more complex demonic creatures than the human community gives them credit for," Jinbei explained and then he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a book of demons and demonic entities.
The Fishman then trifled through the pages until he came across the page on Incubi. "See here, there are four main types of Cubi demons. The first are those who are born with the blood of a Cubi in their veins, a lot of times they are hybrid species. The second are humans who made a deal with a chief Cubi out of either stupidity or desperation and was turned into a Cubi-"
"I WASN'T STUPID OR DESPERATE, SHE WAS DYING!" Law snapped angrily, his wings flared up, eyes turned red, and his muscles tensed. His breathing became ragged and he shut his eyes.
Melodia shot a look up at Law and grew concerned. Jinbei must have hit a nerve with him by accident. "Hey…" She said quietly and then she cautiously put her hand on his knee. "Easy now Law… look at me," She spoke calmly, her voice like a balm to his ears.
His body shook a little, but his red eyes finally mustered up the courage to look at her. His breathing was still heavy, his jaw was also clenched. She didn't try to run away though. Her hand felt gentle against his leg, not burning hot like some humans who tried to touch him when his thoughts spiraled.
"I'm sorry, but the curse has progressed too far in your daughter's body. There isn't anything else we can do, but let her be comfortable and content,"
"No! Please Doctor, there has to be something we can do! There must be some spell you haven't tried!"
"There is nothing that we can do that won't cross dark and unholy territory Ms. Trafalgar… I'm sorry"
"Law, take a deep breath for me, can you do that?" Melodia instructed calmly and then she carefully reached out to take his hand in her own. She carefully pulled him downwards so that his face was level with her own. She then took a deep inhale and slowly exhaled. Melodia repeated this process a few times hoping that he would see and follow her lead.
Inhale… 1 2 3… Exhale… 1 2 3…
A few minutes of this and the memories that were circling his brain like vultures began to go away. It almost shocked him when he found himself growing calm again. What the hell? No one had ever been able to do that before, he usually just let the memories torture him into a dreamless sleep.
"That's it, easy does it… are you ok?" Mel asked softly, her eyes filled with concern and kindness. Law nodded slowly as he didn't trust his words at the moment. The kindness in Melodia's eyes scared him a little because he had almost forgotten what it looked like. The last person who he saw that kindness in was his old master Corazon.
Melodia then turned to look back at master Jinbei again with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry sir…" She said bowing in respect and mercy.
Jinbei looked at Law quizzically for a moment and then turned back to look at Melodia. "No need for an apology child, he just confirmed to me that he isn't like many Cubi. I'm going to write down some notes from my book here that might become useful for you and give them to you later so as to not stir up another PTSD attack. You two best be going to lunch period anyways before your twin brother starts looking for you," Jinbei replied calmly.
"Thank you so much Sir, it means a lot that you're giving me so much help with this," Melodia said and then she took a hold of her knapsack. She then grabbed Law's hand to lead him out of the classroom.
"It's no trouble at all, it isn't everyday that this kind of thing happens. You're also one of my best students Melodia and I want to help you through this. We will find out who caused this on you," Jinbei promised and then he went back to his book.
"C'mon emo boy, let's get going to lunch," Melodia said absently earning an eye roll from Law. He pulled his hand from her grasp and began hovering beside her.
"Mention that to no one." Law grunted as they made their way towards the dining hall.
#onepiece#oc#onepieceoc#paranormal#taurus system writings#trafalgar law x oc#trafalgar law#incubus au#witch au#incubus law#fluff#angst#tw ptsd
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I posted 3,614 times in 2022
That's 1,091 more posts than 2021!
181 posts created (5%)
3,433 posts reblogged (95%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@dragongirltongue
@tinfoil-on-the-windows
@emmypupcake
@revolutionarygirlgothra
@tentacleteapot
I tagged 2,835 of my posts in 2022
Only 22% of my posts had no tags
#elden ring - 232 posts
#daphnecore - 215 posts
#tagged for me - 130 posts
#revolutionary girl utena - 115 posts
#video - 67 posts
#i need a fiancée tag - 63 posts
#anthy himemiya - 62 posts
#kamen rider - 60 posts
#kamen rider ex aid - 60 posts
#homestuck - 58 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#and they mask it in fake social awareness by playing up ‘’oh i’m going to get this wrong hahah i’m so sorry’’ instead of just looking it up
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
it’s been said many times before but Ranni is easily the funniest character in Elden Ring, and in my opinion she’s the funniest character FromSoft has ever written
she was so vehemently opposed to being used by the higher powers in the Lands Between that she responded to being picked as a potential new goddess by killing her own body and moving her soul into a doll body with four arms. (said doll body may just happen to look exactly like the person she learned her signature magic from.) she did this by stealing a piece of the physical manifestation of the concept of death, and then had one of her many siblings assassinated with that same piece of the rune of death, and she flat out admits she did all of this to your face if you ask her about it.
she is (apparently) on a first-name basis with your horse, and the only reason she initially introduces herself to you is because she heard your horse has a new master and wants to find out what you’re like. she’ll comment on what a “ruffian” your horse has chosen as a master if you’re rude to her. she uses an alias the first time you meet her, and said alias, Renna, in addition to being the name of her mentor, is literally just her mom’s name with two letters dropped from the end. (it's also just her own name with slightly different spelling and one letter changed.)
her first body used to be really tall, so now she constantly tries to appear taller than the player by sitting on a wall the first time you meet her, and later by sitting on a pile of books, concealed by her robes, on top of an already decently tall chair. conversely, she later abandons her relatively more human-sized doll body to hide out inside a tiny little replica OF her doll body, and when you find her she pretends to be an inanimate object the first few times you talk to her and then she gets pissed at you for figuring out it was really her.
she responds to marriage proposals by saying “okay that’s fair, but you have to become royalty first, I’ll see you when you have that figured out” and then leaves you a free sword because that’s the traditional wedding present the women in her family give their spouses. and then when you’ve beaten the game she DOES in fact take you as a consort, no questions asked. there is absolutely no gender-specific dialogue of any kind at any point when you talk to Ranni, including when you propose to her, and she is the chaotic bi representation I know a lot of my bi friends have been hoping for.
if you try to fight her mother, an optional boss most people will go after during their playthroughs because the benefits are pretty useful, Ranni impersonates her mother by creating an illusion of her at the height of her power, and has her ‘mom’ say she hopes Ranni is able to achieve all her weird goals as her ‘death’ quote if you destroy the illusion… but also if you destroy the illusion she just. leaves. and you reappear in the same room as her mom, who’s seemingly totally forgotten you two ever fought, without any apparent worry you might just try to pick that fight again.
if you ask to work for her while having an ulterior motive (due to already being on a quest that requires you to gain her trust so you can snoop around her castle) she immediately calls you on it but also finds it funny enough to let you work for her anyway. then if you come back to her after she's given you what you want, she continues putting you to work because why not? you came back, after all. she is the best she's such a fundamentally weird person and that makes her feel so effortlessly real, like a friend of a friend you're always hearing crazy stories about. I love Ranni so much.
523 notes - Posted September 17, 2022
#4
| cinematic parallels |
Don't Hug Me I'm Scared episode 5: Transport / Revolutionary Girl Utena episode 25: Their Eternal Apocalypse
566 notes - Posted September 26, 2022
#3
ambiguity be damned, they WILL be giants by the time I'm through with them
776 notes - Posted September 25, 2022
#2
are you familiar with Articuno, the legendary Pokémon that’s a combination Ice-type and Flying-type? well, this is the end of the pointy crest thing at the top of its head.
and that’s just the tip of the ice bird…
4,041 notes - Posted December 3, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
in a doctor's office being shown a chart with different types of man-made horrors on them while the doctor asks whether each of them is beyond or within my comprehension
24,055 notes - Posted August 17, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
#tumblr2022#year in review#my 2022 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review#I made it FIVE DAYS AGO#long post
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peachtober day 3: cloud
#peachtober#peachtober21#artists on tumblr#illustrators on tumblr#drawtober#this is great bc I don’t have to think of captions#guys I just found out venom 2 is out#I’m on tumblr HOW DID I NOT HEAR#im going immediately#also this piece may look a little flat but you just have to trust me that the version in my head was visually interesting and cool#VENOM HYPE
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fuck it. rating the swords in cql by fuckability.
thanks to a certain extra chapter i now cannot watch the untamed without thinking about the logistics of fucking the swords. so im gonna rank em based on overall sexiness of design of course, but more importantly, by practical insertability of the hilt. its 4am.
Lan Wangji's sword (Bichen)
the whore that started this all. good ol bichen. this is the only sword we have canon information on the genuine fuckability of. solid, attractive design, for sure, though personally it's a little blocky and boring for me. the main part of the hilt is well-shaped, with a subtle wavy topography in what looks like quartz or ivory, not bad at all. the sword exudes icy air as well which can certainly be a point for it if you're into that, or a point against if you're not keen on getting frostbite in the worst possible place. but there's one big problem here; the shape at the end of the hilt seems very problematic in terms of insertability, so much so that I wonder if the prop designers knew anything at all about the fate of this particular sword, or if they did, and they deliberately tried to make it as unfuckable as possible to hopefully put that thought out of everyone's minds. but we're all thinking it anyway. 6/10 godspeed wei wuxian.
Wei Wuxian's sword (Suibian)
oh honey, this is a stick. this is a branch. very aptly named "whatever", suibian is overall an "eh" in the looks department. in some shots it looks more shiny and finished, but in others it seriously looks like a piece of wood from the forest floor. it's like the swordsmith heard what wuxian wanted to name it and decided to stop trying. the metal detail lends a little to it, and i do have to admit that the blade itself is a lot sexier than the sheath, there's also something to say about its loyalty in sealing itself for only its master, but in its everyday look, it leaves a lot to be desired. the shape of the hilt is not bad, and it has no obstructions at the end, but i wonder exactly how finished the wood really is.... 3/10 ow ass splinters.
Jiang Cheng's sword (Sandu)
ok now this is a sexy sword. very good overall look. this sword is a hot goth that you spot from across the mall food court that you will never talk to, because you know it is too good for you. sandu has its aesthetic figured out. the deep purple, the quilted pattern, the entwined snakes? hell, sandu is too good for jc himself. the frog at the end may be a slight problem for cowards, but it's nowhere near as bad as bichen, and has the ridges down the hilt to make up for it. 8.5/10 the name is metal as fuck too.
Lan Xichen's sword (Shuoyue)
not terrible in design, though it's honestly just bichen's less hot brother. the bulky dull metal looks somewhat cheap and thin, but i do like the double chains on either side of the sheath. the hilt itself is a more exaggerated texture from bichen, and is that same pretty opaque white, but of course the glaring problem here again is the end. this looks like a nightmare to insert, to at least double the degree that bichen is. this is a plug, but not in the way you want it to be. shuoyue does, however, gain something for being the sword in the most homoerotic and tense scene, jgy's death scene, so that's redeeming, i think. 4.5/10 just fuck bichen instead.
Nie Mingjue's saber (Baxia)
ouch. ow. nothing is more hostile and outright unfuckable than baxia's little head of spikes. sexy design but at what cost. you'll have a better time fucking nmj himself tbh. 0/10 not even a sword.
Jin Zixuan/Jin Ling's sword (Suihua)
sexy in an insufferable rich asshole way. so pretty but so infurioratingly stuck up and arrogant it drives you insane and you can't stop thinking about it. the gold detailing is a little much, but like, in a good way. the blue on the sheath is a perfect touch. hilt is smooth and unproblematic, with the buttons for a little extra something, good shape, if not a little short and underwhelming. suihua overall is not a bad sword to fuck, but you better not fall in love with it. 7/10 is he gay or just european.
Xiao Xingchen's sword (Shuanghua)
if shuoyue is bichen's less hot brother, then shuanghua is bichen's sexy cousin, even down to the frost magic. the design is immediately one of the prettiest right away, with the silver design on the sheath and the pretty clean matte white. the structured hexagonal shape of the hilt is incredibly interesting, and the intricate engraving is a nice touch. the end does have a similar problem to bichen though, but while it is more rounded outwards, it's also not disconnected the way bichen is so it's up to you whether it's better or worse overall. 7/10 everyone's sword crush.
Xue Yang's sword (Jiangzai)
holy shit this is a hot sword. i know i previously haven't been commenting on the blades because they're usually sheathed in the pictures i find, but how can i not acknowledge the aesthetic of this blade. everything about this sword overall is exceptionally beautiful, and just the right amount of evil to suit xy. the hilt is very smooth and a bit tapered in shape, very nice. biggest problems is that it does have a tassle on the hilt, and the very end is a flat piece of metal, which might be sharp and would bring down insertability significantly. but i really can't find it in me to lower the score of this beautiful sword for that. 10/10 but the manhua version is even sexier.
Wen Chao's sword
i literally would not be making this post if not for this nameless beauty right here. this sword, in its bold, yet refined design, is the entire reason i thought to myself, hm, maybe you could fuck more than just bichen? it's honestly such a shame that i can't find a higher quality image of this sword, so you'll just have to trust me on this one. the exaggerated, swirled ridges spiraling down the hilt are... needless to say, very intriguing, and the head of it is not only rounded for ideal insertability, but is such a perfect cap shape too. there is absolutely nothing wrong with this sword, down to the design of the sheath, except for the man that carries it. take it out of his hands and put it somewhere more useful. 100/10 i think im genuinely sexually attracted to swords now.
#mo dao zu shi#mdzs#cql#chen qing ling#the untamed#tagging this with every fandom tag because if i had to write this you have to see it#legit i started this as a joke and now after two and a half hours of writing it i am fully and completely attracted to swords#im gonna sleep now#nsft
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“harry’s stylist, right?” part II
Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump
this gif bc i couldn’t fine the fit i wanted to showcase, but that night him and y/n get closer than they had gotten before :))
and we’re back :) - this is the last part of this i may do some little blurbs and stuff about these two if people want it (maybe) i hope you all enjoy this part, it’s not proofread so sorry about that lol. Feedback and reblogs are so very very appreciated, also feel free to message me about you’re feelings about this
Word Count: just over 10k | Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, implication of smut, i think that’s it
part 1
-
After the call with Jeff, which wasn’t really a conversation at all, moreso a berating from him, she was in the worst mood. She shrugged off the Bode jacket and hung it up in her entryway closet. She wasn’t planning on wearing it ever again. Without the jacket on, her shirt that seemed to be exactly on the nose with it’s “we’re in the shit” graphic was clear and she untucked it from her light mint pants. She was exhausted, both physically and mentally. Instead of picking her phone up again, she decided she could do without communication for a while. Her feet padded to her bedroom, after removing her nikes and socks. In her bedroom she opened up her record player, wanting music, but not wanting to be bothered with her laptop since it had a connection to the internet.
She grabbed her Electric Warrior by T. Rex and slipped out the first record from its sheath. As she set up the music, she couldn’t remember where she’d even gotten the record but for some reason it had called to. She skipped over Mambo Sun, the first track, though, and had it play Cosmic Dancer first. It was calming to her, she swayed a bit to the soothing beat and then climbed into her bed. Staring at the ceiling, she wondered about when her life had gotten so complicated. The rhythm in the music and the exhausting thought material lulled her to sleep as the afternoon sun washed her room a perfect golden from behind her shade.
When she woke up again, it was midnight and she was starving. The record had stopped spinning hours ago, she hadn’t even gotten through side A. It was forgotten as she made her way to her kitchen, groggily.
After settling on cereal and an alcoholic seltzer for dinner, she was really in the mood to treat herself, she made her way back to her living space. On the couch, she tucked her legs beneath herself and spooned the sugary food into her mouth. She had only soy milk in the place because she didn’t like cow’s milk and it didn’t keep when she was gone for extended periods of time. Then as she sipped from the black cherry White Claw, she dug her hand into the cushion next to her. Her hand reemerged with her discarded phone from earlier. She decided it was reasonable to go on it now.
More messages from various people in her life and hundreds of social media notifications. She was going to ignore social media for as long as she possibly could. Four missed calls. 2 voicemails. Styles Harry. Why she kept contacts backwards in her phone was unimportant, it’s just what she did.
She sighed and took a bigger sip of the barely alcoholic drink. Then clicked the voicemail notifications and pressed the first one on speaker as she began to read his texts as well. Then the next voicemail. She checked the time in California, it was still a reasonable part of the day there so instead of texting back she rang him.
“Hello?”
“Har- H. Hi.”
“Y/N! Are you alright?” The concern apparent in his tone. She was taken aback. He hadn’t necessarily sounded angry in his texts or voicemails, but she just assumed he was being courteous since it was a live conversation.
“You’re not mad at me?”
“No! Why would I be?”
“Because I just had my ass handed to me by Jeff earlier.” She slightly mumbled and shrugged, still upset with how she had been spoken to by Jeff.
“Oh gosh, I told him not to be harsh. It’s honestly not a big deal. I thought it was fine, you texted me too!”
“Yeah, well apparently wearing your clothes means we’re dating and that’s not cool in the world’s eyes,” you scoff.
“I know how much you like that coat...I thought you looked great in it, too.” He finishes in a slight whisper, not wanting to be overheard.
“Harry…” you can’t keep the smile off your face. It was a cute compliment even if the situation wasn’t ideal. “Why do your fans have to be so smart and know there’s only two of those coats in the world and I don’t own the other one.”
He laughs, blushing at how you said his name. This time not using his nickname didn’t bother him, it felt even more intimate somehow.
He rubs a hand through his hair, “I know, pesky little devils, gotta love’em, though”
She hums, not sure if she can agree about loving them right now since they’re probably eating her alive all over social media.
“So you’re alright, darling?” He asks again.
“Mhmm,” she pauses at the pet name, it was soothing right now. All she wanted was to curl into his chest, but he was half a world away, quite literally. His words would have to do in his absence. “I’m really glad you’re not mad at me, H. That would’ve made this a hundred times worse.”
He huffs, wishing he could be with her to comfort her. He hated this part of his life. A friend couldn’t borrow a piece of his clothing without everyone assuming that they were seeing each other. It was disgusting and it made him dislike tabloids and social media even more than he already did.
“Trust me. I’d never be mad at you, pet. And I’d definitely never be mad at you for looking good as fuck in my clothes.”
“Shut up!” She squeals, his tone turning from earnest to teasing in one breath. He cackles on the other end of the line because despite her mean words, he could hear the smile on her lips.
“When are you flying back to London?” Her voice grows quiet again after she takes another sip of her drink.
“Thursday,” he almost whispers back, having contained his mirth again.
“We have some work to do on your Graham Norton and Jingle Bell Ball outfits. The listening party ones are all picked up -”
“Y/N,” Harry cuts her off, “It’s late for you, go to bed. Try not to stress out too much, we’ll talk when I’m back about work. For now, take a few days off to not think about my clothes.”
She sighs, “Thanks, H. You’re right. Have a good rest of your day.”
“Goodnight, m’love.”
She ends the phone call and chalks the almost ‘my’ sounding syllable that she heard before love was just her tired mind and Harry’s mumbling voice. It most certainly wasn’t.
-
After a restful few days of doing absolutely nothing, something rare for Y/N, she was extremely well rested. So much so that she was peacefully asleep when Harry let himself into her flat since they had agreed to meet at her place when he got back to London. As much as he wanted her to take time off and not over work herself, his schedule was a busy one and now that he was back, they had work to do.
Inside her flat, he was greeted with silence. He made his way to her bedroom at the back of the flat. He’d been here a handful of times. She always told him she preferred to spread out when she worked and Harry’s was the place for that. The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar and he pushed it open slowly with his ring clad hand. His black nails are freshly painted and shiny, no chips. Still in her bed, Y/N shifted around softly. He smiled to himself, taking in how the room smelled over lavender and how she had pink floral sheets. He walked to the window and raised the shade, hoping to have her wake up without and coaxing from him.
“H,” her voice mumbles into her pillow and he thinks she’s woken up. His face turns to look at her, but her eyes are still closed and she looks completely asleep. He wonders if she’s trying to trick him, but then she mumbles again.
“Mhhh, tha’ tickles,” and she giggles. He kind of grimaces, feeling like he shouldn’t be hearing this. He hadn’t known she spoke in her sleep, it was sweet, but with the context right now, he thought him having this knowledge might not sit well with her.
“Y/N,” he says loudly, before clearing his throat. Her eyes shoot wide and she sits up, dropping the sheet she had been snuggling.
“Harry! Oh my god!”
“Meeting, remember?”
“Oh my god,” she glances around her surroundings, Harry still standing at her window. “What time is it?”
“1 pm. We said 1 right?”
“We did, I just...I don’t know what happened. Sorry, give me a second. I’m out of it.”
When she emerged from her room, dressed and ready for the day, Harry had brewed a pot of coffee with her machine that she really only had for guests.
“Sorry again,” she sits at her countertop, searching for her notebook in her bag.
“No worries,” then he leans across the countertop, “Seemed like you were in the middle of a nice dream.”
His brows are raised as she avoids his gaze. She flushes easily, “I- it was...just one of those usual dreams.”
“You have dreams about me often?”
“I didn’t say that!” Her eyes shoot up to meet his and he grins. He takes a sip of his coffee before speaking again.
“I heard you say ‘H’.”
She rolls her eyes, “That proves nothing.”
They both stare at each other for a minute, not talking or moving. Harry is simply grinning at her as she twitches her hand with her pen in it now. Her eyes are trying to figure out what Harry’s getting at, searching his expression for how he feels about knowing she dreams of him. She certainly wasn’t going to get into it with him, even if he did continue prodding.
“Alright,” she begins when he doesn’t seem to want to press it further. “Oh!” She jumps up, dropping her pen and forgetting about whatever else she was going to say. “Your jacket! And shirt! I cleaned the shirt and the jacket…” She runs out of the room to go to her front closet where she had hung up both the jacket and the shirt.
Returning, she holds them out to Harry and he rounds the countertop to look at them.
“Perfect shape,” he admires the spotless shirt and his beloved jacket. He puts them on the back of the chair that was next to them. “Won’t forget my jacket again.”
She smiles sheepishly, thinking back to Jeff’s conversation with her. Harry notices her change in demeanor and takes one of her hands. Her eyes flash up to his face and her body tenses, he feels it even in her hand.
“Have you gone on any social media since you’ve been home?” His eyes are wide as he runs his thumb over the back of her hand.
She softens slightly, “Oh yeah, after the first day I decided to check. Most were funny and sweet, their nasty comments didn't get to me.”
Her eyes are big on her face and Harry watches as her worries and concerns all wash through the swirling colors in them. He wants to take all of that pain away and just stare into her abyss forever.
“What did Jeff say exactly?” He knows that’s what she’s alluding to. Harry loved his manager, but when he had called him about the jacket incident he had been pretty short with Harry and hadn’t given much information on his chat with Y/N. The way she looked right now bothered him because ultimately Harry was in charge of Y/N in his employment of her and if Jeff had acted like her superior in a way that was harmful he’d be downright upset.
Her eyes grow glassy immediately and Harry’s anger begins to bubble in the pit of his stomach. She tries to blink anything away, but fails.
“I don’t know why I’m crying, it wasn’t terrible. It’s just, all my life, I’ve had to work to be taken seriously because of who I am and I hate when I get talked down to by a man. Especially over a stupid fucking publicity thing for you. Like I’m sorry, but I don’t see you as a public figure where I have to worry about every goddamn thing I do messing up your image.” She pauses, taking a deep breath, realizing she’d gotten really worked up as she spoke. The tears running down her face more in anger than sadness. Harry watches on, letting her work through her thought process. “He was just so mean… for what?” She whispers finally.
“Oh god…darling,” Harry grips her hand more firmly. He wants to take her in his arms, but he’s not sure if that’s what’s best for her right now, so he just keeps holding her hand. She stares up at him, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. Her eyes now tinted a light red.
“I’m sorry he spoke to you in that way. That isn’t his job at all, I’ll definitely talk to him since I didn’t have the full story before. He gets very worried about the media perception thing, especially right now with the album.”
She bites the inside of her cheek, blinking up at Harry. “I know your image is important, too, otherwise why the fuck would I be here? Right? I just don’t think it’s that big of a deal I borrowed the jacket.”
“In a perfect world my image wouldn’t matter at all,” Harry sighed, “Fame is a stupid, fickle thing musicians like me get stuck with.”
“Please, you love the attention,” she teases, poking at his chest. The sweatshirt he wore wrinkling under her touch.
“‘M serious,” he insists, “I’m saying it shouldn’t matter that you borrowed my jacket, but sadly it comes across to the rest of the world like I’m dating you.” He pokes her sternum in return.
“And that would be the end of the world?” she smiles, her tone still teasing, but that worry is back and swimming in her eyes again.
This time, though, Harry must not see it because he laughs and lets go of her hand. “For a lot of people, I think it might be.”
She bites at her lip and tries to contain the laugh that bubbles in her. He was right and as he wandered back into the kitchen for more coffee, she shook her head trying to rid herself of those pesky feelings that had been hoping for a different answer.
-
The next few weeks go off without a hitch. Harry’s outfits look incredible for the listening parties. Then for the Graham Norton Show, the Jingle Bell Ball, and the One Night Only at the Forum. Every single outfit is received with praise and everything seems to be coming up Harry Styles. Y/N has been traveling to most of his appearances, making sure everything is in order before he goes out. She’s always by his side before he walks out into the public eye. Taking his picture and saving it in the lookbook that keeps growing, smoothing over his lapels, either unbuttoning or buttoning a middle button when she thought he had too many or not enough undone for the look. Whatever it was, she was there for him.
Then, after his appearances, they would debrief. Debriefs really were just time that Harry carved out in his schedule to just be alone with Y/N. Sure, they talked about clothes, that’s how they had first connected, but it always turned to other ideas. They’d talk about his songs and she’d ask about the meanings that he wouldn’t share with the rest of the world. He’d happily tell her about it and they enjoyed that time together. There were stolen glances and lingering touches, but at the end of the day they were professionals who were friends. It wasn’t maybe what either of them wanted, but they weren’t unhappy.
Harry just got back from Los Angeles after filming for his Ellen show appearance and he was set to play the Bowery Ballroom tomorrow in London. After this there was going to be a lot of downtime on Harry’s schedule because of the holidays. He had marked out almost a whole month of time off, at least from appearances. They still had to start planning tour outfits and finalize the outfits for the events after the break. Right now, all she was focused on was getting Harry into the beautiful yellow Gucci suit that was a twin of the Watermelon Sugar suit he had worn on Saturday Night Live. Harry said he wanted to check the suit before tomorrow for some reason, so Y/N had made her way over.
She finished buttoning the sleeves of the jacket and stepped back to admire Harry once again. No matter what he wore he always looked marvelous in her eyes. She’d argue anyone could say that about Harry though. He could pull anything off and make it his own with barely any effort.
Today, his hair was disheveled and mused from his plane ride back into London. The flight from California to England was a rough one, even when you traveled in the type of luxury Harry did. Despite his tired body and eyes, the suit looked stunning on him. He wore it without shoes and she giggled when she saw his feet. His feet tattoos never failed to make her laugh and she had no explanation for why.
While Harry looked good in everything, there actually was something a little off with the suit right now. Normally, it hugged him just right to make him look perfectly muscled and defined, but it seemed to be hanging a little looser in some areas.
She tapped a finger to her lip, looking him over, unsure of what was off.
“Did you lose weight, H?”
“Huh?” He looks down at himself and somewhat notices the looser fit, but wasn’t quite sure if he had lost weight. “Don’t think so.”
She hums and steps closer to him, dropping her hands to tug at various parts of the suit, trying to figure out whether she should take anything in or leave it be.
“It’s probably all the travel I’ve been doin’. Can be draining me more than I realize.” He ponders as she continues to work silently over the suit.
Her hands travel beneath the suit and encircle his waist, almost as if she’s hugging him, but not really. His stomach flexes at the contact, her chest pressed softly against his. She grips a bit of the shirt from the back and then unfolds herself from him to look at the mirror. The shirt is now taut against his sternum and pectorals under the coat. She tilts her head, silently asking him his opinion.
“I think it’s fine the way it is, honestly.”
“Okay,” she nods and releases her hold on the shirt, hand slithering out from beneath his coat. He exhales deeply through his nose. “Make sure you eat properly tonight.” She says before beginning to pack up her things, done for the day. Harry begins to undress himself.
She turns back to face him as he hands her the jacket and shirt, her eyes run over the length of his torso, both for the sake of checking on his health and for other purely selfish reasons. All the tattoos still remained where they always were when she saw him like this. It never got old, his beautiful body. He didn’t even need clothes to look good. She blinks back to reality when the fabric comes in contact with her hand.
“Make sure you treat yourself this holiday season, you deserve it, H. And it seems like any weight you ever gain is muscle anyways, so you don’t exactly have to worry around the sweets table.”
Harry laughs heartily as he slips on his long sleeve shirt he was wearing. Then he starts on the pants as she turns away again to hang up the top parts of the suit.
Finally, she adds when he hands her the suit pants, “Just don’t want you overworking yourself, seriously, H.”
He looks at her as he buttons up his baggy blue jeans. The outfit he wore was just the first clean things he had grabbed when he had gotten home. His green eyes turn serious after the mirthfilled last few moments.
He crosses to her side as she puts away the clothes in the garment bag. His hand lands softly on her shoulder and she turns to him at his touch. “I know. You’re so good to me, darling. Always making sure I’m taking care of myself…”
It’s quiet. The soft breeze in the London air outside barely whispers around the house. Harry’s voice was laced with love, even if it wasn’t his intention. His ‘thank you’ was piercing into her heart and his touch wasn’t helping her stay focused. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt Harry take a step closer to her, his head ducking slightly down to her level. Then, right on the edge of her left temple and her hairline, his soft lips pressed against her skin. They brushed against her for just a moment, lingering for the respectful amount of time. But all she wanted was anything but respectful. She wanted his lips pressed against hers, she wanted his hands in her hair, yanking her deeply into him. She wanted to scream when he pulled away, but she didn’t. She smiled warmly up at Harry and her eyelashes fluttered on their own accord like a schoolgirl with a crush.
“Thank you,” he whispers again.
“What would you do without me?” She pushes at him playfully, shaking off her giddiness. Then she turns back to her work, scooping up all the items of hers on the table.
“Probably have to walk around naked, huh?”
“Oh my god!” She laughs and starts for the door, Harry follows behind to walk to her out to her car. “Maybe I should quit! People would love it.” She continues laughing as she hangs the garment in the passenger's seat side.
“No thank you, please,” Harry hurriedly says.
She turns to him as she closes the door and leans against the car. This was their routine right before she left, a final chat against the car before she drove off for the night.
“Tomorrow’s going to be amazing, H. It’s gonna be electric!” She scrunches her nose slightly at the pun about the venue as she smiles up at him.
He sticks his tongue into the side of his cheek, holding back a laugh. His eyes narrow at her, slyly. “Very funny.”
She only winks at him before pushing herself off of her car and walks to the driver’s side of the car.
He waves as she begins to pull out of the driveway and she flashes him a peace sign and a mouthed ‘Bye’ when she turns onto the street.
-
After the Bowery Ballroom show, Y/N barely sees Harry at the after party. She doesn’t worry about it too much. His management was going to have a holiday party next week before the little break began for the team. So, she knew she’d see him before she flew back to see her family for the holidays. She was going home for two weeks and then would be back for New Year’s and then would get back to work after that.
She saw Harry exactly twice after the show. First, she saw Harry right after the show and he was all sweaty and exhilarated. He tackled her in a bear hug with such strength she would have fallen back if he hadn’t been holding her so tightly. When he pulled away, he placed two extremely slobbery kisses on her cheeks and she laughed, tipping her head back in pure bliss. Then he was pulled away by Jeff to change and get ready for the after party.
Jeff had apologized over text about the tone he had taken over the whole jacket thing, but only Harry had told him to. It was fine with Y/N, she told him that too, but she just never felt like being around him for very long if she could help it after that. That’s why she liked that most of her job entailed dealing with Harry directly. If she had to go through Jeff for everything she’d likely pull her hair out. He was still short with her at whole team meetings and not necessarily courteous when they were around each other casually. Like she said, it was fine, she just didn’t make it her business to be around Jeff.
The second time she saw Harry was around half past one am. She was pretty sure it was time for her to uber home and she wanted to say goodbye to Harry. Her well-liquored body stumbled around the big room. Deciding to take shots with the band had gotten her to where she was now and she wasn’t complaining she was happy. She was in a celebratory mood and wanted to see Harry right now. Tell him how much fun she had and how proud she was of him. How much she loved him… Hopefully she kept that part to herself.
“Harry!” She finally exclaims, coming upon a group of people surrounding the star himself. She ignored the rest of the people, likely stars too, but she really couldn’t care less. One of them tried to straighten up as if he was going to block her from Harry, feeling like she maybe wasn’t someone Harry wanted to see since they didn’t know her. No one seemed to ever recognize Y/N as Harry’s stylist when it mattered. Harry waved them off, a little drunk as well, but obviously recognizing Y/N.
“Darling!” He exclaims and raises his arms out to her. She grips onto him quickly and snuggles into him happily. With her still in his arms, he turns them from the prying eyes of the group he had been with.
She raises her head from his warm chest so that her lips are near his ear, “Congratulations, Mr. Styles.”
“Thanks, baby,” he purrs into her ear, his voice coarse and low, carrying over the music. She giggles at the nickname, her entire plan going out the metaphorical window.
Her fingers smooth up over the fabric on his chest, a nice short sleeve silk button down that was tucked into dark high waisted trousers - they’d picked it out last week. One of her fingers begins to trace around his collarbone after she reaches the opening of the shirt. His eyes flutter shut at the contact. They were so needy for each other. Each touch would coarse heat through them every time.
“I’m going…” She says after a moment of silence between them. The party was raging around them, most not paying any mind to the two of them off in their own world.
“Don’t go,” Harry practically begs. A hand flies up to pet over the top of her hair and she smiles even wider.
“It’s late and I’m tired,” she makes a face in response to Harry’s pout, “You have lots of people to entertain, Mr. Styles.” Her teeth capture her bottom lip as she stares at him intently.
He groans and pulls her closer. This time his lips brush right against her ear and she wants to shiver, but he keeps her in place. “If you keep calling me that, you’re gonna drive me insane.”
Her eyes widen but her hazy mind isn’t processing all of what is going on. She barely takes inventory of ‘baby’, for him to say she’s turning him on without actually saying it. Tomorrow Y/N would have to deal with that one.
She pulls back from him, creating space between their chests, but he still holds her waist close to him. She leans up and places a kiss on the corner of his lips. It’s technically supposed to be a kiss on the cheek but if she had moved her lips a millimeter to the right they would have been on Harry’s. This gesture has his grip tightening on her, but she pulls away.
“Goodnight!” She sings as she bounces out of sight, wiggling her fingers in a wave before completely being gone.
Harry sighs and runs a hand over his face, kind of in shock of the last five minutes. He had liked it. He just hadn’t expected it. When he turns his attention back to the group that was behind him, it’s not the same as it was before. Jeff looks at him with narrowed eyes and Harry’s eyes go wide and his grin widens as well.
-
Tonight is the management holiday party for Harry’s team. Y/N and Harry had seen each other two days after the Electric Ballroom to debrief, but mostly to get brunch. They didn’t talk about the little teases they shared at the after party. Both of them just assumed that the other probably didn’t remember and didn’t want to go through the trouble and embarrassment of recounting it. Alcohol has that effect of making you a little bolder than you actually are.
Brunch with Harry solidified Y/N’s thoughts on fame. Celebrity could be so strange, because there was the one day when she got photographed with just Harry’s jacket on and there was speculation of dating, but then she could go out to brunch with him and not be bothered at all. It made absolutely no sense.
Anyway, tonight there were no gifts, but Y/N had gotten Harry something even though he said he never needs anything. She hoped she’d be able to give it to him after they were walking back to their transportation since she wanted it to be a surprise and not have everyone know she gave him a gift. It wasn’t a big deal - or maybe it was - it was just an item she knew Harry had been fawning over. It was so him and she knew he’d probably end up buying it for himself eventually, but it felt nice to be able to give him something for once. Price didn’t matter. Still, she was a little nervous and tucked and re-tucked it several times in the back seat of her car before heading inside.
It was a restaurant his management had rented out for their party. She gave her name and headed inside. The lighting was overly dimmed and it smelled like expensive alcohol and delicious food. It was everything an A-list singer deserved as a celebration. She never could fully grasp that the Harry she had gotten to know as her friend was also the same Harry that the entire world was infatuated with, for good reason. He was charming in the best way, terribly sincere, insanely talented, and all around a good human being. She knew that, it just surprised her that everyone else knew it too. There was just that disconnect for her that she shared him with the rest of the world.
Her high heeled heels brought her to the backroom of the restaurant. They managed to shimmer even in the dim light. She had gone for winter chic with a sequin and mesh white dress, that looked like fresh snow with a cream and blue swirling design on the under layer so that her undergarments weren’t showing through. It was like a modern ice princess look that was finished with her heels that had sparkles on the entire back of them. Her hair was down and her makeup a little more done up than usual. She used a light blue eyeshadow to imitate ice and added some rhinestones on the inner parts of her eyes. She may have watched a Euphoria-inspired makeup look tutorial on youtube and she wasn’t afraid to admit that.
The scene she came upon was what she expected. Lots of men in suits and a good amount of women in power suits too. The people in any interesting clothes were Harry and his band. Some of the business people’s partners were dressed up more but it all wasn’t too exciting. Plus, Harry’s famous friends group hadn’t shown up yet. Y/N hid her disappointment easily, not surprised about the lack of flavor she saw in the style. She just repeated the mantra her mother had always told her: “You can never be overdressed, only underdressed.” It stuck with her always and made her go for those bolder styles when she needed to.
Harry was there, sipping on a glass of water. She figured he might not want to get started on drinking so early in the evening. Tonight didn’t feel like a drinking night for her either. After the last big party, she had woken up with a massive hangover and a few memories that she wished she hadn’t made. She wasn’t planning on repeating that series of events.
As she goes to grab a glass of water on the large table, she gets a tap on her shoulder. She spins.
“Happy Holidays, darling!”
Her eyes widen and her smile immediately grows. Harry grins back at her, his mouth open in the perfect winning smile of his and his eyes twinkling with happiness.
“Happy Holidays to you too, Mr.-” She stops herself, remembering back to the last party, “H.” She finishes firmly after clearing her throat. Harry’s grin turns to a wicked knowing smirk.
“I’m happy you came! I know you’re not super connected to all of the groups here, Harry Lambert is around somewhere though and I know he’s been wanting to talk with you about clothes.”
Harry watches as her eyes shine even brighter when he mentions the other stylist. It was true, Y/N didn’t really mesh with any of the groups that worked around Harry. The stylist kind of stood alone in regards to where she fit into his life, not the business part, not the band part, not the crew, and not the other celebrities. Harry Lambert and other fashion people didn’t always come to these events so it was seldom that Y/N had her own people to talk to. Not that mingling was hard for her, he just knew she didn’t like to do that as much so whenever another stylist or designer was there he always made sure to introduce them - if they weren’t already acquainted.
“That’s amazing! I haven’t seen him in ages… I’ll have to get his opinion on how I’ve been doing.”
Harry licks his lips as he laughs a little at her comment. She looked beautiful tonight and he wanted to tell her.
“Harry. What the hell are you wearing?” Her eyes flash as she takes in his appearance.
He looks down at himself and then back at her confused. They hadn’t picked the outfit out, but he thought it looked nice.
“Obviously not the suit! On your head?”
“Oh. It’s a gift from Mitch and Sarah.” He pauses to reach up to play with the headband sat on top of his curls. “It’s mistletoe and it seems like you’re standing beneath it. You know what that means,” he toys with it as he wiggles his eyebrows.
She scoffs sarcastically, looking to the side for a means of escape, “No way.”
“C’mon! It’s tradition!” He steps forward playfully and she places a hand on his chest.
“You can kiss my cheek.” She says finally and Harry looks at her disapprovingly.
He wags a finger at her with his free hand, “You’re the one under the mistletoe, you have to kiss me.”
“Okay that’s definitely not how this works! Now you don’t get any kiss at all, you cheeky bastard.”
“Fine. But don’t come crying to me when you’re the one with coal in your stocking.”
“Haha.” Her eyes once again roll to the side as she pushes him back and he steps back like she actually had a strong push. Then they both actually laugh and she gives him a quick side hug with a whispered, “there”. Harry smiles down at her, but it falters slightly when she’s already pulling away. He wanted her at his side the entire night, but sadly that wasn’t reality.
She drags him around the restaurant in search of Harry Lambert since the party had started to grow and she needed his height to get her where she wanted to go. Maybe. Or maybe she just liked the way he held her hand to lead her through the crowd that was most definitely not dense enough for her to have to hold on to him to stay with him at all.
She sees more of Harry at this party. They have some good conversations about plans for the holidays and snickering about who was already too drunk even though it wasn’t even midnight. She can’t believe he keeps on the stupid headband all night, giving and receiving various types of kisses from every person he talks to. Some are kisses on the cheek, others are friendly smooches on the mouth. Thankfully all of them are those cute little pecks that friends always tend to share, otherwise Y/N might have had to excuse herself and leave early. Jealous little thing.
As the night dragged on, she began to question herself on that front. Why was she growing jealous when friends would kiss Harry. She could've kissed Harry. She practically did the other week. But now, after refusing him a mistletoe kiss and seeing everyone else do what she didn’t have the courage to do, she felt childish. Well, childish or not, she knew why she couldn’t kiss him. Kissing Harry wouldn’t be just a friend thing for her. It would mean a lot more and if it was just a friend thing for him she wouldn’t be sure if she could handle going on with their working relationship after. Her job was the most important thing in her life. Being a stylist, loving clothes, and working on personal designs for the future was her life. Giving up this prestigious of a job was out of the question. Maybe the idea of being with Harry had crossed her mind, but she didn’t know how it could ever be realistic. If they got together could she keep her job? Would she have to quit? And find a new one? There were too many unknowns for her to ever actually entertain it. That’s why they went to the edge so often, she always would back away and she was sure that if she didn’t, Harry would for her.
He knew her. He knew her passion, he watches it firsthand everyday they work together. Even when they’re not working he can see her mind forming different ideas just based off of the things she sees people wear on the streets. He watches her fingers fiddle over her phone, typing out notes for design ideas and screenshotting inspiration. So every time they went to the edge of changing their relationship, he knew he couldn’t push it because he never wanted to hurt her or her dreams in some way. She was too important to him to simply mess that up. Even if it hurt him.
So when Harry slides in the back of her car that night at 2 am because Y/N says she has something important to show him, he’s fully ready to stop their flirting from going any further. And when she tells him she needs to show him something, she has the most pure intentions when she pulls out the nicely wrapped box, its wrapping paper a swirling lavender pattern that’s really not festive at all, but she prefers it.
He looks between her and the box that she’s now placed in his lap. His green eyes flickering even in the darkness of the car, the city lights illuminating the backseat enough for them.
“You know I don’t need anything…” He fiddles with the skinny mesh ribbon neatly tied around the box.
She makes a little gesture, pushing him to open the present, “I know, but I also know you’ve been wanting this and you deserve it.”
He unwraps the paper to reveal a Gucci box and he rolls his eyes at her, but smiles genuinely as he lifts the top of the box off. It reveals a 1955 Horsebit Shoulder Bag in beautiful shiny black leather. It’s gorgeous.
“I can’t...I don’t know what to say,” Harry’s eyes are huge as his delicate hands ghost over the bag's details. He had been wanting it and he hadn’t gotten the courage to buy it yet. He liked purses, but sometimes he even had his doubts about what he could pull off.
His eyes go back to her and she smiles widely at him, all her teeth on display because she’s just that happy. “This is a really expensive bag, Y/N.”
“If it makes you feel better I can charge it as a wardrobe expense, but then it’s not really a gift from me,” She sighs at his unrelenting gaze.
“Thank you.” He touches at the bag again and then does a dance in his spot. “And don’t worry, I will always remember this as a gift from you. I love it.”
She smiles and leans over the box to look at the bag, admiring the beauty of it as well. “It’s pretty great.”
“Mhmm,” Harry hums and she raises her eyes, seeing his trained on her face. “You’re under the mistletoe again, darling,” he smirks.
Her breath stops once again, how could he do that to her so easily? Their eyes stay locked under the city lights. The fake mistletoe bobs above them still connected to the silly headband. It’s colorful leaves and fun stripes mock her when she flicks her gaze up to it for a moment. Then back to Harry. Harry who’s holding the gift she just gave him. Harry who looks beautiful tonight. Harry who is her favorite person in the world to spend time with.
Now. Now is when she pulls back from the ledge. This is when she takes a step back and stops herself. When Harry laughs it off. When she pushes him away. When they go about the rest of their day like that electricity hadn’t gone up either of their spines.
But that’s not what happens. Instead, she nods in agreement and then crashes her lips against Harry’s. It’s not like those friend kisses that had happened with him all night under that same mistletoe. It’s hard and hot and fast. Her lips are pressed to his for one searing moment and then she’s biting his lip, desperate to taste more of him. She had been longing for this for so long and now that she had it, she couldn’t let it go.
Harry’s hands fly to her cheeks as he pulls her closer, more into his lap. He pushes the box into the front area of the car blindly. The gift was completely forgotten. This was a far more important matter. Her lips were wet and plush and they tasted like the single Manhattan she had halfway through the night and vanilla lip gloss. When she bites his lip, he can’t hold back the moan inside his throat and she presses her tongue into his mouth quickly. He was her oasis and she had been traveling for months. He responds with similar vigor, enjoying the way her body presses to his in the backseat of this little car.
They kiss for as long as they can. Licking, sucking, and biting each other’s lips to taste as much as they can. But it’s just kissing. Neither of them work to travel anywhere else. Their lips are seemingly enough. Each press of their lips communicates what they had been longing for. It’s euphoric.
When the windows start to fog and her eyes open for a random moment, she realizes they need to cool whatever this is.
“H-Harry,” She gulps for a breath of air and she tries to get his attention. “I gotta get home.”
“Come back to my place,” he mumbles into her collarbone, happily licking over his love bite.
She laughs and swallows slowly, “That is definitely out of the question, I have a flight tomorrow.”
He removes his mouth from her and straightens up. His lips are even brighter pink than usual and perfectly puffy. His hair disheveled from her hands. She blushes at the thought.
“Right, forgot about that,” he opens the car door and they both slide out. They stand at her car, just like they usually did outside his house. However this time is quite different from most.
They sigh heavily, in unison. The winter air is cold in London. She shivers slightly and knows she can’t stay in his presence much longer.
“Merry Christmas, H.”
He leans down and places one last sweet kiss to her lips. She wrinkles her nose and smiles unabashedly.
“Merry Christmas, Darling.”
-
Harry and her don’t talk as much while she’s back home for the holidays. There’s no work to be discussed and while they parted on not necessarily bad terms, there was definitely a conversation that needed to be had between the two. Neither seemed to want to have that conversation over the phone, or worse, text. So for the next week and a half, Harry and Y/N exchanged texts of funny memes that reminded them of each other and odd anecdotes from family members that had made them laugh. Nothing really substantial, just small, I was thinking of you messages.
When she walked out of the luggage carousel at London Heathrow Airport, she expected to be getting in the queue for an uber. Instead, before she could cross the street to get to the queue even, a tall man stopped her. A tall, scruffy, extremely buff, extremely handsome, and extremely kissable man. Harry. It would be terribly strange if it was anyone else.
“Excuse me, ma’am, do you need a lift back to your flat?” His dark sunglasses cover his face and a big coat, scarf, and hat make him hardly recognizable. The curls sticking out from beneath the cute knit scarf are thankfully a dead give away for her. As well as his perfect drawling voice.
She shivered in the cold, her matching grey sweatpants and Treat People With Kindness sweatshirt had been warm enough on the flight, but proved inadequate for almost January in London. Yet, Harry’s presence brings a smile to her face.
“It’s good to see you, H.”
He laughs, his cover obviously blown. His arms encircle her body and she instantly melts into his embrace. His large coat easily fell around her and warmed her. His own natural body heat adds to her new found warmth as well.
“You too,” he murmured. His head buries into the crook of her neck, warming her cold skin.
He pulls back after a rather long embrace, realizing they’re still out on the sidewalk. He takes one step back and she visibly deflates at his absence, the cold once again surrounding her.
“Let’s get you home,” he grabs at the handle of her suitcase in one hand and her hand in the other. The warmth returns and she grins, placated by his touch.
“So are you coming to my party tonight?” He inquires once he settles into the driver’s seat after putting her suitcase in the back.
She shifts in her seat, arms wrapped tightly around herself, still cold without any warmth from Harry or the car. “Don’t you suppose there was a reason why I chose to come home today?”
Harry’s ears perk at the use of home, never assuming Y/N viewed London as her home, still it made him smile.
As the car purrs to life, heat immediately seeping out of the seats and vents, Harry’s phone connects as well. NFWMB by Hozier begins to play softly and she glances at Harry again. The song was so sultry and soft, like expensive dark chocolate melting on your tongue. The mood in the car seemed to shift. Their eyes met, Harry’s green ones narrowing at her, trying to decipher the look she was giving to him.
Then he drove off, softly singing along to the words through the sleepy streets. It was surprisingly quiet out for the holidays, people choosing to lay low during the day so they could celebrate the changing of decades in full force tonight.
After the song ends, his eyes travel over to her again and she’s already looking at him. She had missed his face. Sure, he’d sent some silly selfies while she was gone. Mostly on Christmas Eve with his family when he had gotten drunk on mulled wine and eggnog and brandy. Still, in person, he was even more beautiful. The high cheek bones that glistened with a shine most makeup could only hope to produce. Full raspberry lips with stubble growing to frame above and below. The crinkles growing on his forehead and by his eyes that showed him aging with grace. The precious few moles that had gotten lucky enough to live on his face forever. His big green eyes that were consistently bright with interest and intellect, but deep and knowing despite his loving demeanor. She loved those big green eyes, they were just so big and she didn’t understand how no one took the same interest in them as her. All of it, just sitting there beside her. Don’t even get her started on the soul that inhabited the beautiful man beside her. She never would stop spiraling then.
“What?” He asks softly, the sounds of Paul McCartney during some era fading in.
She blinks, hazily in admirance, “Nothing,” she replies.
“What?” He insists, laughing slightly, the lips she loves so much widening in excitement.
“Just missed you.”
Her voice is quiet but strong, serious. A blush creeps up his neck, taking hold of his features.
“Missed you too,” his left hand reaches across the console to take hold of her hand that resided on her thigh. He squeezes her hand softly and they both smile at each other again.
“Don’t worry, I can get my stuff upstairs. I don’t want you being out in the cold any longer than you have to. I’ll see you tonight, H!” She pushes her body across the console and places a kiss on his cheek before jumping out of the car. Harry makes a half smile, knowing he can’t change her mind. He waves to her behind the window as she travels into her building.
“See you.” He says to himself before driving back to his home to finish up preparing for tonight’s festivities. The party was going to be more intimate than the Christmas party at the restaurant. Tonight was just Harry’s family and closest friend - the band, Jeff and his family, Y/N, and a few others.
-
The whole night Harry and Y/N are within a foot of each other, if not on top of each other. He never leaves her side nor does she his. They are tethered to one another. The longest they’re apart is when Harry gets them refills of Champagne and Y/N journeys to the restroom. They laugh and catch up.
As the night goes on, Harry begins to whisper sweet nothings in her ear and she giggles and places her hand on his chest flirtily. Their interaction is a dance, bedroom eyes and low voices, lingering touches and suggestive lip bites.
When the countdown begins to grow closer, everyone refills their drinks and gathers in the center of Harry’s living room. They cheer and countdown to 2020. And of course, Y/N’s by Harry’s side as he begins the count. And when they get to ‘one’ and everyone’s saying “Happy New Year”, Harry and her are sharing a chaste peck to the lips that electrifies everything they had been saying to each other all night. She sighs into his mouth, but pulls away quickly, aware of their surroundings. No one particularly questions the kiss, either not paying attention or caring. Harry beams down at her and they enjoy the rest of the evening.
At around 1 am, the last of the guests stumble out of Harry’s homes and into waiting ubers and safe rides. Y/N lingers back, beginning to clean the discarded glassware and paper plates. Her and Harry are definitely tipsy, but they enjoy the cleaning work, making terrible jokes about New Year’s and commenting on what people wore tonight. When it’s relatively cleaned in the kitchen, Y/N wanders out to the living room and finds Harry reclined back on the couch.
“H,” She sticks out her foot and nudges him with her boot.
“C’mere,” he reaches out his hand to her, his coat discarded, leaving his arms bare with only a white tank top on.
She takes his hand hesitantly and is yanked on top of Harry in an instant. With a loud huff, she settles above him. “That wasn’t nice.”
“Shush,” his pointer finger goes over her lips, her eyes narrow at him, “Can you believe we’re seeing 2020?”
“Oh my god! I hate you!” She rolls her eyes at his pun and shakes herself from his hand around her waist. She stands up to walk away but he easily grasps her wrist and stops her, easily sitting himself up on the couch.
He looks at her and her annoyance, that wasn’t all too strong in the first place, dissipates. She sighs, “I should probably be heading home.”
“You should stay, it’s so late,” his hand rubbing over the skin on her wrist.
She bites her lip, contemplating the offer, he was right. “I’m really tired and we haven’t really talked, H.”
“But we-”
“Not about us. We’ve been skirting around it, flirting with each other all night, but we haven’t talked about what’s going on. I can’t stay if you expect something from me.”
“I don’t expect anything from you, Y/N. That’s not why I want you to say,” Harry says earnestly, realizing quickly what she’s saying. “I’ve never expected anything from you. An offer to stay is just an offer to stay.”
“Okay,” she finally smiles and sits down beside Harry.
“You can sleep in the guest bedroom, too. If that makes you more comfortable?”
“Oh...I don’t know if we have to take it that far. Plus, you’re like a personal heater and I get cold at night.”
Harry perks up, he had been feeling resigned that maybe she wasn't on the same page as him. He wanted to be with her all the time but also didn’t want to put any pressure on her. She just made him so happy.
“Great! Let’s get to bed then.” He pops up from the couch and brings her into his arms, “You know where all my clothes are, so you can just borrow whatever you want, and then I’m sure I have extra toothbrushes…”
She giggles into his side as she watches him ramble animatedly. Sometimes he was oh so bright, so joyful and carefree. A stark contrast from the quiet confidence he often exhibited for the public.
-
She woke up in the warm embrace of Harry. His whole bed smelled like him, vanilla mixed with spices of tobacco and sandalwood. It was delicious and she snuggled in deeper to the soft chest she laid against, breathing in his scent deeply.
They rested there for a long time. Harry makes his awakening known with a lingering kiss to her forehead. They both sigh in contentment, radiant in each other’s arms.
“What’s the plan today?” She ponders as Harry’s fingers trace patterns over her skin. He hums in thought.
“Wanna be with you…”
She laughs and looks up at him, “Me too, but we can’t lay around all day.”
“Well, we could.” Harry insists.
She laughs again and twists in his arms, settling so she’s facing him. She bites her lip as she thinks about something, scanning his face over and over.
“I’m gonna go home and get ready for the day. Let’s just explore the city and do some 2020 shopping. Who knows, maybe fashion’s changed since the last decade,” she grins.
Harry chuckles a little and pets at her hair, “I like the sound of that. And we can talk - about us.”
“Mmhmm.”
He tilts his head forward and meets her lips once again, savoring her taste. Each kiss makes him want more. She was good.
-
Harry lugs in the four heavy shopping bags into her flat, as she carries the single small bag from the chocolatier he had dragged them into. He presses her to the counter when he sets down the bags and begins to kiss her face all over. She giggles and places her hands on his shoulders, giving him a kiss to the lips before pulling away.
They had talked about what they wanted, what they saw in each other and how that fit into their work relationship and the rest of their lives. Harry would have to talk to Jeff, but more so as a by the way this is what I’m doing with my life, not an ask for permission. Y/N would continue as his stylist until the end of the tour cycle, but afterwards she’d go back to freelancing. They wanted to try to date and be as normal as possible. She told him how she didn’t love the fame or the celebrities. Sure she dealt with those things for work, but when they were off duty, she wanted to be regular. She wanted to go out on dates and make dinner on weekend nights. Harry had agreed, he wanted those things too and he understood her wish to keep work and their relationship separate. However, he’d made her concede to allowing kisses during work hours. She had laughed and said it was an easy term to agree to.
It was going to be a good thing. They were both giddy with excitement, the new year, and all the new things they had bought on their relationship high.
“Oh!” She pushed Harry further away from her and hurried into her room. He laughed and looked confusedly after her. “Wait there!” She called. Harry leaned against the back of her upholstered chair.
“Close your eyes!” She says before coming back into the room. Harry’s hands go over his eyes easily as he grins blindly in her direction.
“‘M waiting…”
“Open.”
Harry’s hands slip away and his green eyes blink open. In front of him stands Y/N holding up a hand knit brown sweater vest with horizontal red, cream and blue thin stripes along with the thicker brown stripes. Harry beams, reaching his hands out to take hold of it.
“It was supposed to be a surprise for later, but I found it at this vintage place while I was home and I couldn’t wait any longer to show it to you.”
“Darling, this is gorgeous. I love it! But you shouldn’t have...”
“I thought you could wear it for Lizzo’s concert. I know you said you liked the other sweater vest, but this one is so-”
“You spoil me, seriously.” He cuts her off and laughs before pulling her back into him. Their lips collide in a searing kiss, Harry’s excitement over the new garment making him eager to show her how much he really loved it.
A small sigh escapes her lips as Harry presses into her. His tongue pushing into her mouth in a way that turns the sigh into a moan.
“Let me show you just how much I love it,” He murmurs against her lips, casting the garment onto the back of the chair he had previously been leaning on.
She smiles, eyes fluttering open and meeting his with adoration swelling in their depths. Then she allows him to back their intertwined bodies into her room.
-
Some apartment in New York a few months later:
“I knew it!”
“Huh?” Aidy lifts her head from the skit she was working on to look at her friend and coworker.
“That stylist...for Harry Styles,” Heidi shifts, sitting up and turning her phone to face Aidy, “She was seen out with him, getting lunch in London and then making out on a street corner. I bet they were dating back in November when he was on the show!”
Aidy laughs, thinking back to her conversation with the stylist that night of Harry’s show. The girl had been so in love that night and Harry had been smitten all week, describing her in the best way, praising her every decision, yearning for her even. And now they were actually together...she was happy for them.
“I don’t know about that...but they were head over Gucci heels for each other that’s for sure.”
Heidi and her scroll through the pictures on social media of the singer and his girlfriend.
“They probably are the best dressed couple I have ever seen,” Heidi grumbles.
“Now that is definitely accurate.”
--
taglist: @meredithhuntt @sovereigndeadlyperfect @marauderswhisperer @toribentleyva @girlboss99 @harryssunflxwer @loverofaccents @stephaniemalvie @mk15x @beanholland @stfxlou @loliismutt @pinkisawesome101 @stilljosiegrossie @kikisparadise18 @clementimee
#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles one shot#harry styles oneshot#harrys stylist right?#harry styles x y/n
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LMK fandom: Oh, what do we do about this guy who has nothing but hurt Xiaotian, tried to replace Sun Wukong and his crew, hurt Tripitaka and ordered servants to cannibalize a monkey? Oh I know! We’ll turn him into our little meow meow~ he’s so innocent and Sun Wukong is obviously the villain!
What doesn’t help is this idea is perpetuated by multiple fan fic writers and artists for some reason. Especially some aus they make that turn SWK into a bastard for the sake of the story rather than considering cultural context and thinking they should be respectful.
And almost everyone lets them get away with it just because the art or fanfic is good and they get so popular that no one can point what is actually wrong without feeling like they’re going to get attacked.
I'm starting to feel like my blog is the one anons go to specifically to vent their frustrations about the Six Eared Macaque in his lego monkey show form & the associated fandom lmao. But I guess this makes sense, as I’ve had fun quasi-dragging him before & will in fact use this anon submission as an opportunity to have my own, to put it academically, bitch fest about not just this fandom's favorite protagonist-traumatizing meow meow, but about the way villains are often treated in not just fanon, but increasingly in canon works as well. But same policy as with the last anon; I'll post my opinions below the cut, and as fandoms love to say, don’t like don't read if you don't want to see me dunking on the six eared simian & common fandom tendencies towards villains.
Oh man I would say where would you even begin with this but anon you’ve pretty much started yourself with my main gripe with a lot of ways that the Six-Eared Macaque is portrayed in fandom; there seems to be this unspoken agreement that his acts of violence towards Sun Wukong, Qi Xioatian, and Qi Xioatian’s loved ones are either to be framed as somewhat or totally justified, to be immediately forgiven/excused, or to simply & completely be ignored. Like friends maybe this is just me not seeing the proper posts but while the fandom is inundated with art and fanfics of Macaque as a generally decent individual & a true member of team good guy, I have yet to see one person address the fact that this monkey literally kidnapped & mind-controlled Xiaotian’s best friend and father figures & forced them to brutalize Xiaotian while ol’ Six Ear looked on and laughed (X_X). Like this kind of fandom villain treatment is definitely not something that’s solely at work for Monkie Kid, but it is kind of nutty how fandoms will swing between yelling that people should be allowed to like villains without even mild critique, and then will just flat-out not address the villainous behavior, and will even bend over backwards to frame even characters who committed genocide as just poor innocent widdle victims who need a hug. At its worst, I’ve even seen tons of people in a fandom get really angry at other people who don’t like a villain, and will even start accusing those people of hating real-life mentally disabled or abused individuals all because they don’t like the fandom’s favorite literal war criminal. The Monkie Kid fandom is FAR more chill & better than a lot of other fandoms I’ve come across in that regard, but that is an exceedingly low bar, & the tendency to woobify certain kinds of villains-- as with Macaque and the extreme emphasis on his bad boy/sad boy thing--is very much at work.
I’ve also talked before about a kind of monoculturalization of certain character interpretations and story beats in fandoms, and one of the more popular ones that seems to be applied to Macaque a lot is the “hero actually bad, villain actually good” cliche, as observable from the general fandom assumption that Mr. Six-Ears he wasn’t even slightly lying or remembering things through a rose-tinted or skewed lens when he gave his version of his and Sun Wukong’s past. Like at this point it seems the possibility that people WILL NOT even consider is that Sun Wukong never did & still doesn't care that much about the Six Eared Macaque (in JTTW they weren’t sworn brothers & in Monkie Kid the only thing the monkey king really said to Macaque before attacking him was a pretty contemptuous "Aren't you ever going to get sick of living under my shadow?," & responds to his "beloved friend" getting blown up with "You did good, bud" to Qi Xiaotian, who did the exploding), or that their original fight may in fact have mostly been instigated by Macaque. After all, to repeat what this anon summarized & what I've said before about their original JTTW context (& in an example of the things that do feel like it's often lost in translation) is that the Six Ear Macaque was a villain not just because he beat up the Tang Monk, but because he wanted to take over Sun Wukong's entire life and identity so he could have all that glory, prestige, and power for himself. To quote the macaque himself from the Anthony C. Yu translation, "I struck the T'ang monk and I took the luggage...precisely because I want to go to the West all by myself to ask Buddha for the scriptures. When I deliver them to the Land of the East, it will be my success and no one else's. Those people of the South Jambudvipa Continent will honor me then as their patriarch and my fame will last for all posterity." And in order to do this, the Six Eared Macaque had apparently made Sun Wukong's "little ones," his monkey family, his captives through either trickery or force, and gotten a number of them to take on the appearance of Tang Sanzang and the other pilgrims. It's also made clear that in very direct contrast to Sun Wukong, he doesn't care about these monkeys beyond how they might serve him. In fact, after Sha Wujing kills the monkey posing as him the Six Eared Macaque not only all but immediately replaces him with another, but also "told his little ones to have the dead monkey skinned. Then his meat was taken to be fried and served as food along with coconut and grape wines." So this monkey is not only willing to risk the lives of a lot of other monkeys for his own personal benefit, but is also a literal cannibal. And yes yes, I know a lot of people have argued that Monkie Kid shouldn't be considered a direct sequel to JTTW & that's fair enough (for example, Sun Wukong probably shouldn't be smashing anyone into a meat patty in a children's cartoon lol). And of course, it needs to be noted that there are a buttload of really out there & really cursed pieces of media based on JTTW & that were created in China. Yet the above description is the oft-ignored in the west original facet of the Six Eared Macaque's character. And it is this selfishness, entitlement, and treatment of other individuals as tools for his own self-serving ends that is, from where I’m standing, still very much present in Monkie Kid. Like besides repeatedly going out of his way to physically and psychologically traumatize Xioatian, with the last episode Macaque seemed to be going right back to his manipulative ways. I’ve seen people frame their last conversation as Macaque softening to Xioatian a little bit, but personally that read a lot more like that common tactic among abusers where even after they’ve hurt you they’ll dangle something you want or need over your head (in Macaque’s case, the promise of desperately needed training and information about a serious looming threat), with the implication that you’ll only get it if you do what they want you to, such as, in this case, Xioatian going back to Macaque as his student even after having been so terribly hurt by this monkey, which would give Macaque power over Xiaotian and probably Sun Wukong as a result. And it is this violence and manipulation that it seems the fandom at large has tacitly decided shouldn’t even be addressed, instead leaning more towards a (and this is an exaggeration) “Six-Eared Macaque my poor meow meow Sun Wukong has always been bad & has always been wrong about literally everything” reading.
And while it is the case that I am not Chinese and feel that as such it would be best left to someone who actually comes from that background to provide more context into how common interpretations of the Six Eared Macaque from China may clash really badly with the stuff the western fandom creates, it also must be noted that, as much as we all want to have fun in fandom & in spite of all the out-there versions of JTTW from China, we westerners should recognize that there is a very long and very ugly history of western countries stripping other cultures’ important religious and literary works for parts & mashing them into their own thing while implying or even insisting that what they present provides a true understanding of the original piece. And while I trust most individuals in regards to Monkie Kid are able to step back and think “this is a lego cartoon and not a set guide for how I should understand JTTW” (especially given the insistence that JTTW and Monkie Kid should be considered there own separate works) there does nevertheless seem to be something of a tendency to take the conclusions people come to, for example, about Sun Wukong’s characteristic in his lego form & then assume that’s just reflective to Sun Wukong as a totality. I imagine a good portion of this is due to people not reading JTTW & especially to not having easy access to solid information or answers about JTTW’s many different facets (like geez awhile ago I was trying to get a clear answer on what is considered the most accurate translation of the names of Sun Wukong’s six sworn brothers & got like 5 different responses lmao), but that tendency to take a western fandom interpretation & run with it instead of doing any background research or questioning said interpretation is still very much at play. As such, & as made prominent in the way people have been interpreting the dynamic between Sun Wukong and the Six Eared Macaque in the lego monkey show, tbh it does seem kind of shitty for western creators & audience to sometimes go really out of their way to ignore all of this original cultural & narrative context for the sake of Angst (TM) in Macaque's favor, demonizing Sun Wukong, and shipping the monkey king with his evil twin (X_X).
And speaking of which, even beyond the potential inherent creepiness & revulsion that can be inspired by this specific ship given common interpretations of the og classic's original meaning (again, it's my understanding, given both summaries of translated Chinese academic texts I've been kindly provided with, my own reading of the Anthony C. Yu translation of JTTW, & vents from a number of Chinese people I've seen on this site, that the Six-Eared Macaque is commonly interpreted in China as having originated from Sun Wukong himself as a living embodiment of his worst traits, hence why only Buddha can tell the difference between them & why the monkey king is much more slow to violence after he kills the macaque), I'd argue that in the face of all the uwu poor widdle meow meow portrayals lego show Macaque is, especially if you include JTTW's events, still in the role of “Sun Wukong but worse” as he is very much a violent & selfish creep. Like he was basically running around in JTTW wearing a Sun Wukong fursuit, but there he had the sole reason of wanting to replace Sun Wukong wholesale so he could have all the good things in the monkey king's life without actually having to work as hard for them. But if you combine that with Macaque now claiming that he used to be best friend with Sun Wukong in his pre-journey days (something that's made funny from a JTTW context given that that status actually belongs to the Demon Bull King lol), his original violence has now blown into this centuries long and really unhealthy obsession with the monkey king. Like he's apparently gone from wanting to literally be Sun Wukong to being so obsessed with getting revenge on Sun Wukong that he's got basically nothing else going on in his life. Like he's only appeared in two episodes but...does he have any friends? Any family? A career or even a hobby that DOESN'T center the monkey king? Anything at all outside of his "get revenge on and/or kill Sun Wukong/use his successor as my personal punching bag” thing? Like dude! That is extremely creepy and extremely bad for everyone all around! As I’ve said before, this seeming refusal to see beyond the past or to do something that doesn’t involve Sun Wukong in some capacity is a trait that makes Macaque an interesting and somewhat tragic villain--he even seems to be working as Sun Wukong’s reflection in a mirror darkly, with lego show Sun Wukong pretty clearly not being able to heal from his own past which is hinted to be defined by one loss after another, and with Monkie Kid even kind of having these two characters somewhat follow their JTTW characterizations in that in the latter half of the journey Sun Wukong often gets sad & starts crying in the face of what seems insurmountable odds (& Monkie Kid Sun Wukong does seem to be hiding some serious depression behind a cheerful facade), whereas the Six-Eared Macaque retains a worse version of Sun Wukong’s pre-journey characteristic of getting pissed and lashing out if things don’t go his way--but it’s also what would make any current friendship or romantic relationship between these monkeys horrific. Although to be fair even the fandom seems to recognize this in an unconscious way, in that a lot of the art & fanfic seems to swing erratically between them kissing & screaming at each other in yet another example of bog-standard fandom adulation of romanticized toxic relationships lol.
At the end of the day, of course, this is nothing new. You'll find versions of this dynamic across a ton of fandoms and now even canonical work. And as such, I can only look at this kind of popularized relationship dynamic with a kind of resigned weariness whenever it pops up, & my frustrated question with the popularity of this kind of pairing is the exact same one that I have for a multitude of blatantly toxic villain/hero ships, given common fandom discourse & the tendency to either ignore or justify the villain's actions & demonize the hero: if you're THAT convinced that everything is the hero's fault, if you believe THAT much that the hero is the one in the wrong for the villain's pain and their subsequent actions, then why are you so set on them not only becoming a romantic pair, but framing this get-together as a good thing? Like I know we contain multitudes but that's waaay too many contradictions for me to wrap my head around. And it definitely doesn’t help that one branch of underlying reasoning behind this kind of pairing seems to be the ever-present “you break it, you fix it” mentality, where the assumption is that if you’re in a failing, abusive, and/or generally toxic relationship (platonically or romantically), if you put in enough time and effort & attempts to compromise, you’ll be able to restore/have the relationship you dreamed of, even with someone who hurt you really badly. And this assumption isn’t limited to fandom: I’d even argue that it’s everywhere in the culture, hence why a lot of people feel like they “failed” if they have to get a divorce or make the choice to leave an unhealthy friendship. Personally, I feel like people could really benefit from more stories about how it is not only the case that the people you hurt don’t owe you their forgiveness & you can still become a better and happier person without the one you hurt in your life, & that while it can be really hard it can also be a good thing to leave a relationship, even if it’s one that once meant a lot to you.
But in all honestly, from my own perspective this kind of pairing is starting to read far less like enemies to lovers and far more like a horrible fantasy where you can pull whatever shit you want, even on the people you "love," & never be held accountable for your terrible behavior or even have to consider that maybe you were in the wrong. It's another facet that makes me larf every time I see people insist that fandom is an inherently "transformative" or "progressive" form of storytelling like friends you are literally just taking status quo toxic monogamy & rebranding it as somehow beneficial & romantic (X_X).
But as to anon’s last frustration, it is hard to know what is the appropriate response with this kind of thing...like for my own part I’m keeping my frustrations to my blog & now increasingly to posts that you would have to click on the “read more” button to see what I have to say, but I totally get the hesitation to give even a mild critique to big names in a fandom. Like I've now seen it happen repeatedly where someone who has a big name in a fandom will make something that's kind of shitty for one reason or another, someone will message them with some version of "hey, that's kind of shitty, you shouldn't do that," and the typical response is either to blatantly ignore the issue completely, or more popularly to make a giant crying circus that seems deliberately geared towards stoking emotions on both sides of the, for example, fiction does/doesn't affect reality issue so that something that didn't even have to be that big a deal gets blown out of all proportion, with the big name often framing what often started out as a very mild critique into a long crying jag about how the initial response to their kind of shitty thing was so mean/cruel and they're just a poor innocent & that YOU'RE the true racist/sexist/bigot etc. if you don't agree with their opinion. It must of course be noted that there have also been numerous instances of people taking it too far the other way & sending not just big names but smaller creators literal deaths threats over stuff like innocuous ships which like holy hell bells people that’s a horrible thing to do. But for the big names at least, the end result of all this fighting is usually that once the dust has settled they have more attention/fame/money/power in the fandom than before, and with anyone who might have a problem with their stuff feeling afraid to voice their opinion lest they be swarmed by that person's fans. In that way fandom does often seem to increasingly be geared towards presenting an “official” fandom perspective about various facets of a piece of media instead of allowing for a multitude of interpretations, and with criticism, no matter its shape or form or how genuinely warranted it may be, being hounded out of existence. I feel like a lot of this could be made less bad if there wasn’t this constant assumption & even drive to think that a different interpretation of or criticism of your favorite work of fiction or your fanwork isn’t a direct claim that you are a thoroughly loathsome individual (& maybe also if people cultivated an enjoyment of learning things about important works from a culture outside their own, even if what you learn clashes with your own initial understandings), but I guess we’ll see if that ever happens.
So these are my general thinks about the Six Eared Macaque’s current fandom meow meow status & some of my bigger gripes with fandom tendencies as a whole. I stand by my idea that the most interesting & beneficial route for Macaque moving forward would be a kind of “redemption without forgiveness from the ones you hurt” arc--as I think was done pretty excellently with the character Grace in Infinity Train--and if for no other reason than gosh dern this monkey really needs to cultivate some sort of identity beyond his “Sun Wukong but worse” persona.
#lmk macaque#monkie kid macaque#6 eared macaque#monkie kid#lmk sun wukong#qi xiaotian#lmk monkey king#sun wukong#monkey king#journey to the west#jttw#fandom criticism#lmk
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The Deal Pt 2
Masterlist
Summary: Clark take you to august to finish the deal.
Warnings: Adult Situations +18, Smut, Dub Con, BDSM, Toys
A/N: second part to @wolfieash ask which is here
Taglist: in reblog.
Smut below the cut.
"NO IM NOT GOING ! AND YOU CAN FUCK OFF!" You yelled chasing Clark into the living room arms cross and lips pulled into a snarl.
He rolled his eyes at you, you'd been throwing a fit all day.
"Sweetheart, you made a deal, gave him your word... you cant go back on it" he insisted once more trying to convince you.
"Yes I can it was my word! Not yours, I can do what I want!" You huffed blowing some hair out of your face it was hard trying to be serious when your hair seemed to want to stick in your mouth.
"No poppet I'm not letting you break you word , now get dressed we leave in a hour" he said quickly spinning you around pressing you to the bedroom door.
"Fuck you, I'm not going anywhere!" You grunted pulling away from him.
"Tonight love I promise, now go get ready august is expecting us..." he said grinning almost sweetly at you.
"I don't give a flying fuck! I'm not going" you stomped a foot at him finally making his brow twitch, jaw tightening in irritation.
He stood taller and let his frame seem to devour the space on the hall making you shrink, shivering as you watched your sweet fiancé become a great predator. A loin or bear?
"Sweetheart enough! Now go get dressed...I laid out your outfit" he ground out severely finally having enough. A deal was a deal... and he wanted your ass!
"Out fit? What outfit-OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?" You cried entering your room seeing the shear fabric
"That? Its a little body stocking~" Clark said leaning on the door frame arms crossed wearing a huge grin.
"IM NOT WEARING A FUCKING BODYSTOCKING!"
"Well I would if I were you because if not there will be images of your naked ass being flown about on the front pages tomorrow~" he quipped with a smirk.
"Yo-you wouldn't dare!" You said voice loosing its bite as he stared at you.
"Wouldn't I? I mean come on love anal's on the line~" he teased and moved up behind you and slapped your bottom hard enough to make you yip and jerk away.
"Now hop to it... You've got 50 minuets~" he called over his shoulder as he exited the room.
In the end Clarks threat of having you mooney metropolis was too much of a threat and you'd showered and slipped into the body stocking...
But you didn't shave! If they were gonna push through with your whole sex for silence deal then they would live with the consequences! No bare pussy for either of them!
Fuck'em.... or don't? Which was preferable
It wasn't that you didn't enjoy it, it was that you did... a little more then you should have! It frightened you the way you'd enjoyed being used and fought over.
"Oh come on why the long face angel?" August hummed as he opened the glass doors on his rooftop home, the penthouse was shiny sleek and as dark as the man himself.
"Fuck off august!" you grumbled walking right passed him as soon as Clark put you down
"Oh such a foul mouth! We will have to teach you some manners~" the agent quipped as you entered the bare but masculine space, everything was harsh lines and fucked up art pieces of splotching blocky shades of black, red and deep violet.
"Yes she's very snippy today... has been all week, pouting" Clark huffed shrugging. Taking the offered crystal glass with amber liquid.
"Ah we have a brat on our hands then?" August chuckled and walked through the home quickly snagging one of your elbows and directed you to the playroom, not wasting any time.
"Yeah, she doesn't want me to fuck her ass" Clark summarized with a shrug.
"Aww Why not sweety? You loved me fucking your ass? You cried and withered moaning so beautifully~" august hummed into your ear as he pressed you over the threshold into a large windowless room, strip lighting igniting the room in a light red. The devils den so to speak.
"Sh-shut up you prick" you snarled.
Augusts reply was a tsk and he pressed you over to a padded sawhorse and looked to Clark nodding to the ankle and wrist cuffs.
Clark breezed past him quickly securing you down making you curse him, but by this point it was a formality as you had already soaked yourself through.
"Oh would you look at that? Our little brat is eager~" august said with a chuckle and a warm hand probed you lightly making you jolt and try to squirm away.
"Yes I know, she likes denying herself, its strange she knows we will win but Continues to fight?" He said coming around your side ghosting his fingers over your ribs making you shudder.
"Well lets not waste time shall we? I have a few things out ready but first lets get this fitted shall we?" August said menacingly walking around you brandishing a very large O ring gag.
"After all if she's going to throw a tantrum I don't trust her not to bite" he uttered moving towards you.
"I've never thought of using one of those before... it wont hurt her will it?"
"Only her pride Clark trust me even she needs a... dressing down every once in a while" august reassured him.
Your eyes grew wide as the agent approached with the large gag that looked both threatening and enticing, things had been kinky with august but you hadn't ever gone this far into bdsm before. You were scared and still fighting but not as hard? You were curious and being dominated by them last week had... changed you. It had been thrilling to be so out of control.
"Should we... give her a signal or something? Incase it gets to much?" Clark quizzed, he was still all for it but wanted to be mindful of you. He didn't want to hurt you.
"Trust me she's going to love it, but in the case of something going wrong" august directed his attention to you befo4e continuing.
"There is a small desk bell one the inside of the left leg on the saw horse... if thing get too much hit it three times fast and we will get you down" he said seriously.
You frowned as his gaze bored into you, for a second you believed you saw actual concern in his eyes.
It unsettled you, August couldn't really have any feelings towards you could he? I mean this was blackmail!
You nodded quickly to him letting him know you understood.
Then just like that August was haughty again and quickly fixed the gag in your mouth, setting your teeth in the small grooves that was semi comfortable.
"Shes ready when you are~" the agent hummed and stood back.
Clark darted behind you and helped himself to you and august disappeared from sight.
You moaned into the room as your fiancé roamed your folds as if exploring them for the first time.
He was rougher then usual prodding and impaling you fast and hard before slowing and drawing your own arousal over your presented ass.
You withered as Clark used you body, pressing you higher and higher making you teeter on then edge then back away letting you calm down only to work you up again.
"I thought we could... try something... a little bonus for all of us tonight~" you heard august but couldn't see him.
"I'm listening" Clark said as he plunged his fingers back into you harder throwing off your concentration making you cry out.
"I have this" you tried seeing what August had but was too preoccupied with the maddening strokes of clark's fingers as he pounded away at your g-spot forcing you to try and rock on him chasing a high he had already cruely denied you twice.
"What even is that thing?" Cark said not paying attention to you as your body twisted and pulled trying to cum like a desperate whore.
"Here ill show you~" august said and Clarks fingers disappeared from you making you cry out and moan, your pussy tried holding him but it was to drenched to actually grip him.
Then something was pressed into you, large wide and very short.
"Oh-oh fuck?!AH!" You yelped awkwardly around the gag as the toy settled, curved forward and down pressing on your gspot without being held. There was a large flat expanse resting outside of you to, the toy curved in a large C shape.
"Does that go up her?"
"No no, we just pop her little clit in here~ and press the button!" You jerked as august moved you, thick fingers prodding your clit and sat the engorged nub into a small round dip and pressed a button.
You squealed tensing all at once as you felt a suction on your clit and roared.
"Holy shit?" Clark said in awe watching as you keened and tried throwing you weight around on the toy that was held in place by your muscles clenching to it so tightly... It was bittersweet in a way, your own body holding the sweet torturous device on your clit.
"And it gets better, press that one" you hear a small click and arched moaning out as the egg like shape inside of you came to life vibrating against your insides.
Clark watched entranced as you withered this is what he'd been missing out on? Fuck!
August darted around you and strokes you hair watching as Clark stripped behind you unable to wait any longer as you thrashed about trying to rock into the toy.
"Shh shh thats a girl, now deep breath your wonderboy may be a little too enthusiastic if your doing all that squirming~"
You froze feeling Clark poise himself at your well lubed ass then grunted as he thrust forward splitting you open.
Clark hissed and moaned loudly as the vibrating egg not only made you quiver and tense around him already threatening to flood the place but it also rubbed his cock as he rutted you.
"Oh fuck- thats amazing! I cant- I shit babe!?" Clark didn't wait he immediately began pounding in to the tight quivering body before him.
August chuckled once more before releasing his own belt buckle. Not wanting to let your wails and monas go to waste.
They would work wonders on his cock, offering the sweetest of releases as you screamed onto his cock as he lodged it into your throat.
August was never into men, but he could develop a thing for corrupting this huge perfect man.
For now August would let you and Clark think you were in control of the deal. Let this one final night play out.
But the seed was sewn and before long he knew Superman would return wanting to explore more and more of this little sex dungeon. And then he will strike another deal.
Because August wasn't opposed to making a little compromise to get decent pussy. If he had to share with Supes so be it, it looked like he could teach the kid a thing or two and he would gladly, because he had many more toys to tease you both with~
If things went to plan he'd have not one but two desperate little subs. And he couldn't wait!
#henry cavill#clark kent imagine#august walker x reader#clark kent smut#august walker smut#superman smut#superman imagine
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