#I hate slogans so bad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hqkalon · 7 months

Text

♱ 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ♱

welcome to the experiments of sex terror where each character x reader takes place within a different kink. if your able to handle the horror of sex mania then you can proceed... may all the kinky whores enjoy kinktober 23’ !

this will be my first kinktober, so remember to have patience as I am learning to navigate throughout this upcoming month xx. all writings will have content warnings, so i'd recommend you to read the warnings as well as the guidelines to what i write!!

all fics will be displayed at the top, while drabbles/headcanons will be at the bottom. (scroll down)

— from one kinky whore to another <3

main masterlist - taglist ( +18 )

- OCT. 07 - “Stakes won’t hurt me darling.”

KINK : PARAPHILIA — vampire!gojo x hunter!reader

october 31st a blood-thirsty vampire appeared within the shadows of the london, preying on innocent civilians. it was your job as a vampire hunter to execute this fiend, but how would that be knowing you were the missing puzzle to his piece.

- OCT. 14 - “A game of Fox and the Little Mouse.”

KINK : CORRUPTION — stalker!toji x reader

letters from an unknown sender, suddenly start appearing at your doorstep every night with a questionable slogan- the Hunter and it's Prey. who could this sender be? and why did the victim have to be you?

- OCT. 21 - “How about a different kind of studying?”

KINK : DUMBIFICATION — tutor!atsumu x reader

it's the night of Halloween and you're stuck getting tutored by one of your fellow classmates. he's everything a girl could dream of, but why did you have to land on bad luck while all your friends got to party, or so you thought.

- OCT. 28 - “Smile for the camera as I slaughter your cunt.”

KINK : VOYEURISM — ghost face!suna x reader

you were now the new helpeless victim in his sequel. stumbling upon the infamous ghost face- inviting you into his film, recording live. starring @/ghostface and his new helpeless victim.

- OCT. 31 - “Am I too much for you dear?”

KINK : DEGRADATION — assassin!getou x reader

a quiet town rose with suspicion as the sudden news of a murder lurking within the shadows- though stumbling upon his shadows leads you into a vacant mansion. what will you do when faced with this cold-blooded killer.

- OCT. 01 -

KINK : BONDAGE — könig x reader

- OCT. 08 -

KINK : SPANKING — nanami x reader

- OCT. 15 -

KINK : FACE-SITTING — incubus!bokuto x reader

- OCT. 22 -

KINK : THIGH-RIDING — mean dom!getou x reader

- OCT. 29 -

KINK : HATE-FUCKING — simon ghost x reader

1K notes · View notes

pettytiredandjewish · 2 months

Text

Ya know what…

I’m so tired of this crap. I’m tired of being scared and having nightmares. I’m tired of seeing people that I thought were friends post/share antisemitic shit/ propaganda and misinformation that hamas created. I hate having to be cautious about people and their intentions. I don’t like having to make a mental list of people that would help me if something happens- I don’t want to drag them into this shit show…

I hate that most of y’all are just sharing/posting misinformation/propaganda about this war. Y’all stop fucking getting your information from social media/and Hamas run “news sites”. Fun fact Hamas is in control of Gaza and certain news media’s. They can tell the world that Israel is doing so and so and y’all would fucking eat it up (and y’all do that). And don’t get me started on the fucking trauma porn- y’all are so obsessed with seeing those photos and pictures, and here’s the thing- no one knows if they are real/“posed”/ai generated and same with the “stories”… heck y’all even twist up the stories just to make Israel the only bad guy in this war…

Most of y’all don’t even care about Palestine. If y’all did why are you not condemning Hamas and their government? Y’all claim you want this to stop- Israel has offered multiple ceasefire deals but Hamas turns them down because they don’t fucking care. They don’t care that civilians are getting k*lled. Hamas end goal is to exterminate Israelis and Jews. They even admitted it but y’all were just turned a blind eye. Hamas is taking control of the narrative of this war and y’all are fucking falling for it…

I don’t trust anyone who uses Zionist/zionism as a slur, wishes death against Israel and their citizens, calls the IDF the IOF, those who turns a blind eye to the antisemitic shit that y’all are causing/or joining in on, chatting genocidal slogans, the list goes on and on….

You claim that y’all don’t blame Jews- just those “Zionist”. I don’t know how to say it but the majority of Jews are Zionist and a lot of us don’t want this war. (Also most of y’all don’t know what Zionism is and are spreading false information about it). Also stop calling Israelis terrorist. They are not- I’ve said this multiple times, citizens are not their government…

Blaming Jews for this war does make you antisemitic. Harassing Jews/attacking Jews/wishing death upon Jews/ cheering and supporting terrorist organizations that want Jews dead/ all of this plus more doesn’t help Palestine. But it does make you a raging antisemitic asshat. This is why we Jews are fucking scared and terrified. History is starting to repeat itself and y’all are contributing to it. Y’all wanna know why Jews are wanting to leave their home countries- because we don’t feel safe because of this shit that is happening…

I could keep going but I’ll stop. This is just me venting out my frustrations. I’m so frustrated that y’all are doing this. I’m tired and scared. If y’all don’t like this- I don’t give a damn. I said what i said. Just know that if y’all start spitting out antisemitic shit on this post- I will call you out and block you…

Am yisrael chai ✡️

And to those who lost people in this war and to those who were killed just because they were Jewish- May your memory be a blessing.

#jumblr #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #fuck antisemitism #am yisrael chai #fuck hamas #hamas is isis #i/p conflict #i’m so tired of this shit #y’all need to wake up #and stop blaming jews for shit that’s not our fault

318 notes · View notes

kosher-martian · 4 months

Text

I'm making this post with full recognition that it might result in a bunch of hateful comments or asks, but I think it has to be said.

This morning I saw two completely unrelated posts (one on reddit and one on tumblr) that referred to Jews as "Jews of Conscience / Jewish People of Conscience" so as to draw contrast between the Jews being discussed and other Jews, based solely on their beliefs and attitudes concerning the Israel-Hamas War.

We really are just doing the whole "one of the good ones" schtick aren't we?

Why do we have to make these performative declarations of our beliefs to remain in the good graces of the self-appointed "good people"? What does that say about the "good people" and their "good politics"? And what does it say about us if we seek their approval?

This is the inevitable outcome of both purity politics and hyper-regimented discourse, which themselves are the consequence of deriving the entirety of one's political litmus test from maximalist sloganeering echo chambers.

This method of forming "good politics" reduces the complexity of the human experience into a simple "us vs them" dynamic, where the dividing line between the two is whether you upvoted or downvoted a screenshot of a pithy tweet.

It frames the world as one with "good people" and "bad people", where those on the side of "good" are scene as virtuous and well-intentioned whereas those on the side of "bad" are at best misinformed and at worst malevolent, sinful monsters. As someone whose virtue has not yet been determined, one who has not declared their affiliation is to be distrusted until they either:

Profess the beliefs of the "good people" without exemption, adopting them whole cloth and never questioning by whom those beliefs were made or whom those beliefs serve.

"Out" yourself as a "bad person".

I want to specifically call attention to that second option. It is always framed as a revelation. Not a sudden change of heart. Not a slow alienation. Not changing material conditions that alter the way someone perceives the world. All "good people" are actually "bad people" (except you, the only true "good person") and it's only a matter of time until someone "reveals who they really are". Everyone is lying about what they actually believe. It's a low-trust environment where every alliance (social, political, etc.) is one of convenience, to be continued until your ally inevitably betrays you for the other side.

To me, the only thing being revealed is the intellectual dishonesty of it all. It's no wonder that you suspect everyone else of lying, because it's exactly what you do. If the only reason you believe something is for the treats and status that believing it gains you, you don't actually believe it. The thing you actually believe is saying whatever is necessary for the treat dispensing machine to dispense your treats.

And so we circle back to the phrase "Jews of Conscience" and what that really means: It means (for the Nth time in Jewish History) Jews are not to be trusted until we "prove" our allegiance to the "good side" or "reveal" our allegiance the "bad side".

#judaism #jumblr #antisemitism

373 notes · View notes

gabrielsbubblegumbitch · 3 months

Note

I’m sorry but can you write more stuff about Vox being a gaslighter? I’m actually obsessed with your analysis

Thaaanks I'm obsessed about them too~ 🩵❤️

So, Vox is like the ultimate gaslighter. Manipulation and brainwashing? That's his whole freaking business plan. I mean, come on, the Voxtek slogan is "Trust Us," and somehow, people actually do.

Oh, let's talk about Voxtek - he's the worst, most manipulative boss ever. He's always pulling stuff like withholding essential information for a task someone's supposed to do, then publicly blaming them for screwing up. And he's sneaky about it too, acting all concerned and disappointed instead of just yelling. It makes people feel useless and insecure, so they bust their butts trying to please him and win back their colleagues' respect, never daring to stand up for themselves. Plus, he's a pro at keeping relationships between higher-up managers tense and distrustful by spreading rumors and creating a competitive vibe. And don't get me started on how he's a total hypocrite - Voxtek, like every other company, preaches its values and missions to create this fake sense of safety and purpose, but then he goes and acts against them or lets someone else do so. It leaves people feeling confused and helpless because they can't play the game when the rules keep changing. Let me tell you, Satan might work hard, but Voxtek's HR department works even harder.

And manipulating people on a personal level? Way too easy for him. People who don't know him well enough think he's some kind of genius (bless their hearts), so they give him way too much credibility. It's crucial for him to be seen as competent because that's how he stays in control. That's why he loves to question the competence of his business partners (Not to be that guy, but those numbers don't look great. Are you sure you can handle this? I don't want to waste my money.) or Valentino (Babe, I've got this. We both know you're not great with financial planning.). Thought hardly ever works on Velvette because she's got zero bullshit tolerance.

Now, when it comes to Valentino, Vox has zero remorse about gaslighting him. To him, gaslighting isn't even violence; it's just a way of handling things, all neat and effective. Why bother yelling and arguing when he can just manipulate Val into agreeing with him? It's like what we saw in episode 2. And even when Val has every right to be angry because Vox acted like a jerk, Vox tends to devaluate his emotions (I don't have time to deal with another temper tantrum, Val; You're always so pissy, why can't you just chill?) or tries to make him doubt his own reality (Maybe you'd remember it better if you weren't high all the time.). He hates arguing with Val, but also is unable to admit that he's wrong, so in his mind, undermining Val's ability to call him out on his bad behavior is a way of keeping their relationship healthy. But it's risky because sometimes Val sees through his manipulations, especially when they're about his feelings, and then things get even messier.

I like to think they trust each other when it comes to serious stuff, like protecting each other from outside dangers, but at the same time, it's like Mr. Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss is married to Mr. Manipulate Mansplain Manwhore - you never know if he's being genuinely nice or if he's trying to get you to do something.

#hazbin hotel #vox #voxval #valentino #hazbin vox #valentino hazbin hotel #staticmoth #headcanon #ask #you know i actually work in HR and sometimes i actively think about voxtek as an organization which is weird

329 notes · View notes

odinsblog · 10 months

Text

One About The Atmosphere: Want to change minds? Stop trying. Change the atmosphere instead.

Donald Trump in 2016 greets a screaming horde of ecstatic white christian nationalists

Minivan was a nice enough guy. He was easygoing; a happy guy with a frequently deployed smile. I don’t recall much anger from him, nor many strongly held opinions. I wouldn’t call him a philosophical type. No deep late night talks with Stove Minivan is my recollection.

This is the sort of dude I’d hang out with at a party, if there were a party we were both at, but not one with whom I’d maintain a relationship if we both graduated and then moved to different places—which I know for a fact, because that’s what happened. We drifted.

So then what happened is twelve years or so later I got on The Facebook, and Stove Minivan was there, too, and before long, we were friends again, he and I, and so were me and my other college friends, and them with him, and … look, you know the drill. It was The Facebook.

Minivan was no longer a pre-med student at a small northern liberal arts college. He was a doctor—a general care practitioner, if memory serves—in a smallish plains state town, very much like many other towns in the great plains or elsewhere in the country, I imagine.

Anyway, before long I noticed something about Minivan. Even though his feed was full of pictures of him and his lovely family, and he was smiling in them just the same as he always had in college, he was angry.

He was *enraged*

What was he angry about? The Demonrats.

Minivan was absolutely enraged about everything the Demonrats did. He also was out of his mind angry about Killary, and Obummer, the leaders of the Demonrats—or at least they were the front for the real leader of the Demonrats, who even back then I believe was George Soros.

What did the Demonrats do? Oh my heck, what *didn’t* they do? Mostly they hated America and American security and American economic strength, it seems. They engaged in corruption and bowed to foreign powers a lot. They shredded the dignity of the presidency, that’s for sure.

Minivan’s worldview wasn’t particularly coherent, if you want to know the truth.

I couldn’t help to notice that the Demonrats weren’t actually doing many of the things that Minivan thought they were doing.

And I noticed other things.

For example, I couldn’t help but notice that a lot of the policies Minivan supported were directly *causing* the sorts problems that made Minivan so angry.

And I couldn’t help but notice that well-sourced information enraged him more than pretty much anything else.

There was a lot of linking to sites I’d never heard of, like Breitbart and Newsmax, and of course plenty of Fox News. There were a lot of memes. There were a lot of conspiracy theories (a big birther, was Minivan).

Some of his posts contained subtle bigotry. Most of the rest contained not-subtle bigotry. Several of them contained slogans and statements that were, very simply, neo Nazi and white supremacist memes and shibboleths.

There was a lot of commentary accompanying these posts from Minivan, who was saying shocking stuff for a small-town family doctor … the sorts of things that it seemed to me would make people not want to use this person as a doctor, or or sit next to that person on a bus.

I hadn’t heard of Alex Jones, yet, but Minivan sounded a lot like Alex Jones, word for word and beat for beat. He’d even start his posts like a right-wing radio host: Sorry folks, but you can’t even make stuff like this up—ironically, accompanying things that had been made up.

This was all pretty distressing to those of us who had known Minivan back in the day, before he had become so obsessed with Demonrats.

So, a lot of us, myself included, did exactly what The Facebook wants.

We engaged with him.

At the time my belief was, you defeated bad ideas with better ideas, by confronting the bad ideas directly with the better ideas. Debate was for changing minds. You presented your ideas, they presented theirs, you countered, they countered, eventually everybody saw the truth.

But the intention was that I’d change his mind, with facts presented logically, delivered calmly and patiently.

This was my belief.

What happened confounded me, but perhaps you can predict it.

Minivan escalated any correction, however calmly stated or bloodlessly presented, into scorched earth territory. He rejected all proofs by rejecting the source outright as irrevocably tainted by bias, or he’d spiral into non sequitur, spamming our feeds with more misinformation.

He would claim he never said things he had just said, even though the statements were still there for anybody to read, one comment earlier in the thread.

He’d claim that I said things I'd never said, as anyone foolish enough to read through our conversations could discover.

He demonstrated a complete dedication to his ignorance and anger, and a total disinterest in anything like observable truth that contradicted his grievance.

It was confounding and unfamiliar behavior to me, at the time.

At the time.

All of it was larded with grievance, a sense that people like him had never wronged anybody, and everybody else had done nothing but wrong people like him.

The bigotry and authoritarianism grew.

And all the time, on Facebook, he and his family kept smiling their perfect smiles.

I’ll admit that over time my interactions stopped being polite and bloodless, and I’m not particularly sorry for it. I told him some things about himself he seemed not to know, but which I thought really ought to be said.

I have a bit of a penchant for sarcasm, which you may have noticed.

I employed this skill, and you can feel how you want to about sarcasm, but I think it helped convey the correct posture to take toward someone who says the sorts of things Minivan was saying.

The correct posture being "you have proved yourself to be a person who should not be taken seriously, and your positions do not deserve even a modicum of respect."

I found this a more healthy message to convey about Minivan to anybody watching, and I still do.

Eventually he blocked me, and he was out of my life forever. It was the right choice, and I'm very glad he did that.

I’ve pondered the incident since, as it’s become more and more relevant to “the way things are.”

A few things had become clear over time.

Minivan was not somebody whose intentions could be trusted. He was not operating in good faith, and I believe he well knew it, because many of his favorite sources of information have written instruction books on how to engage with people in bad faith.

Minivan was not debating; he was using debate to inject his counterfactual beliefs into the discourse, which were designed to further marginalize already marginalized people while simultaneously cloaking himself in self-exonerating grievance.

More, he was exerting an active effort to not know things that could be easily known, and to demand to be convinced out of deliberate ignorance, not because he was interested in having his ideas challenged, but because he demanded a world in which he got to decide what was real.

Further still: Minivan *learned* from me. The effect of telling him he was using one or another logical fallacy was not to sharpen his reasoning, but to teach him about the existence of logical fallacies, which let him (incorrectly) accuse others of those same logical fallacies.

So Minivan was deploying the language of logic, in ways that betrayed a total lack of understanding about what those fallacies were, granted, but in ways that likely made him seem more knowledgeable and reasonable to a casual or sympathetic observer.

He learned to ape our phrases and arguments, in much the way he’d learned to ape the style of Alex Jones and all the various Breitbart and Newsmax contributors he used to inform himself.

And these days it occurs to me: I hear a lot about "groomers."

We were not changing him by engaging with him thoughtfully.

We certainly weren’t changing him by engaging with him in kind.

Rather: we were making him better at what he was doing, and we were validating his world view—to himself and others—as one that merited engagement.

And week after week on Facebook, Minivan kept smiling and smiling and getting angrier and angrier, at us and Obummer and all the other Demonrats and liberals and every member of every minority group who dared to fail to ceaselessly assure him that he was right about everything.

I don’t miss Minivan's black-hole-sun smile. I think of it as my first hint of MAGA: politically overrepresented, socially coddled people, often living outwardly happy privileged lives, while seething inwardly that other people might be getting anything, anything at all.

Indeed, soon enough, another figure would come on the scene, whose behavior matched that of Minivan almost exactly, a perfect avatar for this spirit of aggrieved bigotry and supremacy that seemed to be moving through my former friend.

And sure enough, as I saw, there were millions and millions of smiling seething people who loved him.

And that guy became president.

Nobody believed he would. And then he did.

Because Stove Minivan, it turns out, wasn’t some weird outlier.

He was part of a growing new normal, a group of people who had been offered a chance to immigrate from observable reality and enter a dark world of constant hostility, misinformation, and self-loving grievance.

It's an invitation they leapt at, to which they cling even now.

It's a constituency immune to proof, angered by equality, cheered by cruelty, who blame others for the foulness of the shallow puddle of reasoning within which they have demand to be seated, even though we can all see them fouling it themselves, every day.

And afterward, a huge number of those shocked by this development decided the proper reaction was to accommodate it, in the name of unity—a belief, it seems, grounded in the idea that what you choose to get along with isn’t as important as getting along no matter what.

I’ll finish with the question that all of Minivan’s former friends would eventually ask, whenever they gathered together long enough for the subject to arise.

"What the hell happened to Minivan?"

Here’s the answer, I think: nothing.

Nothing happened to Minivan. Nothing at all.

He was always that guy, and he always thought the things he thought.

What changed was that he was given a lot of language with which to express those ideas, and access to enough other people who thought that way too, that it created a critical mass of permission.

The permission allowed him to change his attitudes and actions, and created a lot of other people willing to accommodate and normalize his antisocial anti-reality behavior, rather than reject it out of hand.

In college you could be pretty conservative, honestly. It was a pretty conservative place. But you couldn't behave like Minivan later would.

You’d be understood to be a far-right extremist, and people would then treat you like a far-right extremist.

Which is what you'd be.

I think it just wasn't possible for Minivan to be what he later became, because the atmosphere wasn't conducive to the possibility.

But then the atmosphere changed.

If we want to change it back, it's worth thinking about how atmospheres change.

(source)

#politics #republicans #donald trump #overton window #stove minivan #authoritarianism #deplorables #trumpublicans #maga

418 notes · View notes

matan4il · 4 months

Text

To the lovely American Nonnie, who told me that all antisemitism is bad, but leftist antisemitism is the worst because "they are being protected and celebrated. By media, pop culture, and academia. With no middle ground," I agree. The anti-Israel type of antisemitism is, without a doubt, the most socially accepted kind. It's the only kind that someone can spew, and get publicly applauded. The only kind where someone can celebrate the massacre of Jews, and either there are no consequences to that, or there finally are, and then that person and their supporters can pretend they're a martyr, being "persecuted" for being "critical of Israel," when in reality legit criticism of Israel is a very different thing to bias against the only Jewish state, and that person is just another Jew hater.

But I don't think it's just that.

I think it's also the fact that most antisemites are at least honest about hating Jews. The anti-Israel type of antisemitism tries to pretend it's not Jew hatred. So you'll get the hypocrisy of wishing Jews a Happy Hanukkah, a Zionist holiday, while attacking Zionism, and claiming it's incompatible with Judaism. Or you'll have people telling you how important it is to them to combat antisemitism, then they'll turn around and spit out leftist antisemitic conspiracy theories, that instead of saying Jews use the blood of non-Jewish kids to bake matzos, claim the Jewish state only sent a field hospital to Haiti after the earthquake, to harvest human organs. Or they'll proudly announce they're not antisemitic, and to "prove" it, they'll tokenize Jews, which is an antisemitic act in itself. And the worst is when they won't even listen to Jews who tell them that they're being antisemitic, or worse, they'll claim Zionism is antisemitic, which would make 90% of Jews, as well as the Bible itself, antisemitic. It's gaslighting Jews and non-Jews on what is Judaism and what is antisemitic. Other types of antisemites don't do that.

I also think this kind of antisemitism is particularly infuriating, because of the deep discrepancy between the values the left is supposed to stand for, and how they abandon those values when it comes to Jews. "Believe all women!" suddenly isn't applied when Israeli Jewish women are mass raped. "Violence is never the answer! Taking a human life is always wrong!" Then suddenly when Israeli Jews are massacred, and we get explanations on why violence is legit if people are occupied, even when it's translated into mass murder.

And lastly, there's the discrimination, because the left would never treat any other marginalized group the way it does Jews. "Don't speak over a minority group! Listen to their lived experiences!" Then a Jew tries to explain why anti-Zionism is antisemitic, and suddenly all the non-Jew leftists are bigger experts than us on Jewish history and and hatred of Jews, and we're not listened to when we talk about our persecution in the Middle East pre-modern Zionism (meaning the persecution and repeated massacres of Jews in the Middle East is being denied, in a way no one on the left would dare deny, for example, that the transatlantic slave trade happened), or how much anti-Zionism threatens non-Israeli Jews. "Educate yourself" is a common call, but no one feels the need to properly educate themselves on Jewish history, identity and native rights, or worse, they read propaganda from anti-Israel sources only, and think that's the same as educating themselves, as if when they're about to write about any other marginalized group, they would only take in the "education" of those that the group says hate it. "Ethnic cleansing is the worst!" the left says, while chanting slogans that, at the very least, call for the ethnic cleansing of Jews from the Jewish ancestral homeland, and no one gives a damn about us when we point this out. "None of us is free until all of us are free!" goes the intersectionalist call of the left, but Jews are excluded from that. No one cares about modern Zionism being our liberation movement, and we are sometimes physically removed from spaces that are supposed to be dedicated to marginalized groups, as was done to my friend at the Chicago Dyke March, when she wanted to hold a Jewish pride flag, under the claim that the Jewish pride flag makes Palestinians at the march feel unsafe... How safe did queer Jews feel in that moment, or when learning about that incident? But no one cares.

Sending lots of hugs from Jerusalem to you, in the US! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

148 notes · View notes

dsudis · 11 months

Text

A Worthy Gift

Another Dreamling @domaystic story! Today's prompt was "Handmade Gift."

Especially since naming him a friend and accepting his invitation to visit more often, Dream was careful not to intrude upon Hob's dreams, including his daydreams. Still, it was impossible not to know when he personally was dreamed or daydreamed about--a rare occurrence, for few dreamers knew him so well, and none but Hob Gadling took such an interest in him.

Hob had been daydreaming about him particularly intensely for the last several days, and while Dream did not let himself be aware of the content of those daydreams, he recognized the pattern. This was the anxious circling and re-circling of some sort of intense dilemma.

Dream... could imagine what the dilemma might be, but it was altogether too likely that he was projecting his own wishes onto Hob. Probably it was something else altogether, something Dream had never thought of. Humans in general and Hob Gadling in particular had an infinite capacity to surprise, and Dream told himself again and again not to try to guess.

Still, when Hob descended into a very intense bout of this circling, repetitive daydreaming at a time when Dream could tell he was at home alone in his flat, Dream decided to put them both out of their misery. He stepped out of the Dreaming and into Hob's flat, just inside the front door.

It was morning, and there was no immediate sign of Hob.

Dream took another step inside and realized the shower was running.

He ought to have known; showers had become their own field of concentrated daydreaming during his absence from the Dreaming. He had had to create a whole brigade of dreams and nightmares to guide such activities more fruitfully than they were prone to be when dreamers were left to their own devices.

Dream took another step inside. He had to exert a particular effort not to sense the content of Hob's frantically spinning daydreams at such close range when they were so loud.

It was, he thought, not the shape of a sexual fantasy; it didn't have that rhythm.

It was something much more... material. Dream glanced around and realized that the threads of the daydreams of the last several day were echoing in the space around a particular object, one almost hidden from him by that intense daydream energy.

Dream walked over to it, irresistibly curious to know what item could have been inspiring such a flurry of daydreams from Hob, and discovered...

A black bag, with tufts of black tissue paper rising from it.

A gift.

There was no special occasion in the offing; they had never exchanged gifts before. Hob was punctilious in offering food and drink every time Dream called upon him now, and Dream generally accepted them in accordance with the ancient customs of hospitality. He almost never actually ate or drank what he was given beyond a token nibble or sip.

He had never thought of Hob wanting to offer him something beyond the customary. If he did...

There were simply too many possibilities to guess at, and Dream stood there, absorbed in his own daydreams, until he heard Hob say, "Oh, bugger."

Dream looked up to see Hob dressed only in boxer shorts, his hair still sleekly wet, looking rueful but not unhappy.

"Have I come at a bad time?" Dream asked.

Hob heaved a sigh and came toward him. "No, now's as good a time as any, and I suppose the 'pretend I never had this idea' option is off the table now."

"I am... quite intrigued," Dream admitted, looking toward the little black bag again.

"It was just... a thought I had. I was a bit drunk and... well, you'll see. If you hate it you can just bin it and we can pretend I never--"

Hob's nervous flow of words cut off as Dream tugged the tissue paper out of the bag and reached inside to draw out...

A mug.

It was a very pretty mug, as mugs went, glazed in a deep glittering black.

Dream turned the mug to see if there was some witty slogan on the other side--World's Okayest Friend, perhaps, to match the mug he had seen Hob use emblazoned with World's Okayest Professor--and instead nearly dropped the mug at the sight of his ruby, deep liquid-shining red and swimming with dreams.

He blinked a few times and realized that it was, of course, not his ruby at all, but a representation of it composed of layers of beautifully translucent red glaze. The dreams he could feel in it were Hob's.

Hob had painted this mug, while thinking of him. Wishing to give him a gift that would represent something important, something so powerful within him that it could not help being captured by this mere physical object.

Dream dragged his gaze from the mug to Hob, who had wrapped his arms around his middle and was biting his lip in obvious anxiety. "I... I was out with some friends at this ceramic-painting thing, and I wanted you to have a mug for when I make you tea. Not that I've found any you'll actually drink, but I... I want you to know that you belong here, that the tea's not just politeness. I just... want to give you something, and I was thinking of you and how to represent you and I know you don't even have that ruby anymore, but--"

There were limits even to Dream's powers, and he could not keep himself from knowing, while he held the mug in his hands, while Hob was right there radiating fantasies and fears, what dreams had been poured into this object.

Dream set it down with all the care it deserved, and took the two steps required to be face-to-face with Hob, who had to look up at him a bit at close range. He was barefoot, of course, and Dream had his boots on, his coat, a number of layers that felt absurd in this moment.

Hob looked up at him, saying nothing at all, his lips parted, hope just beginning to dawn in his eyes before Dream closed the last of the distance and kissed him.

Hob yielded sweetly to the kiss, his hands coming up to rest on Dream's arms, and when Dream pulled back Hob just looked up at him, as bright and beaming as the first night they'd met, but better. Hob knew who he was looking at now, and still he had that expression of wondering joy.

"Anything will taste sweet to me," Dream said, "when served in a vessel suffused with such dreams of love. And I am partial to white teas, so long as they are not scalded in the steeping."

"Right," Hob said. "Time to buy a fancy kettle right after I--" Hob pushed up onto his tiptoes to kiss Dream again, and neither of them said another word about tea for some time after that.

[This fic is also on Ao3!]

#fic #dreamling #the sandman #domaystic2023 #fluff

507 notes · View notes

smhalltheurlsaretaken · 2 months

Text

if you're wondering why I kind of abandoned this blog, there's several reasons (fandom just doesn't feel fun anymore, I'm trying to cut back on screen time, I've been feeling like my faith is in contradiction to what I see/read/interact with on here is for years and years now) but the final straw has been what I see on my dash every day about Israel/Palestine.

I keep seeing people I used to interact with and used to like now peddling conspiracy theories, debunked claims, inflammatory headlines, and even bloodthirsty rhetoric with tens of thousands of notes (when corrections of those posts get ~500 notes at best), and reacting to nuanced conversations like they're calls for hatred, all while turning a blind eye to the very literal vicious hatred or sheer ignorance in many of those big posts. The level of black-and-white thinking is so strong that we are wayyyy past 'us-vs-them,' we're in the kind of discourse where even 'know thy enemy' (being interested in understanding the opposing arguments even just so you can dismantle them) is considered hatred - people can't be bothered to know what they're arguing for or against, nothing short of plugging your ears and screaming for the death of the Bad People is enough. This is a wave of just about the most hypocritical, callous and uninformed 'activism' this website has ever been guilty of and it's too much. I'm done with this.

And yes, this is about antisemitism. You can all shout 'not antisemitic, just anti-zionist' all day long but you have done jack shit to prove you don't hate Jews beside chanting 'punch a nazi' in the same breath you use KKK slurs and cheer for groups that have 'curse the Jews' in their slogan. I trust none of you anymore.

#israel palestine conflict #israel hamas war #antisemitism #I should have taken a stand from the beginning and I was afraid to. makes me a pretty shitty ally I guess #I also didn't want to talk about current events on a fandom blog bc who am I to give my two cents?#and how can I justify having an opinion unless I back it up with constantly up to date and rigorously examined info #and how can I stop talking about current events once i've started? making my fandom blog no longer about fandom #I still don't know what the right thing to do is #I still don't think it's my place to speak out on much of what's going on in I/P because of how hard it is to be accurate and objective #but if I'm on any 'side' it's certainly not the side of the western 'activists'#i'm on the 'side' of the innocent people suffering in both countries and on the side of the jewish people you've made feel afraid #i'm on the side of life #you GLORIFIED TERRORISM AND SUICIDE

190 notes · View notes

freedomfireflies · 1 year

Text

iFall For Harry

Part Two to this request!

Summary: Turns out, the stranger in your phone is kind of funny...

...and kind of sexy, too.

Oh, my god.

Harry, did you hear the news?

It takes exactly three and a half minutes for those familiar little bubbles to pop up.

Well hello to you, too.

No, what happened?

You struggle to contain a rather giddy grin as you begin to type, A cheese factory exploded in France!

Wait, really? Shit, what happened?

I don’t know. But all that was left was…de brie.

Exactly sixty seconds pass before he begins to type.

Fuck.

I think I just snorted.

That was…goddammit that was good.

You don’t even know what he looks like, but you chuckle at the idea of him laughing so hard he can’t help but snort.

Thank you, thank you.

Took me two weeks to come up with that.

I’m impressed.

Little offended, too.

Oh? Your heart sinks.

Yeah.

Kept me on the edge of my seat for two fucking weeks wondering if I’d hear from you again.

Shit.

You smirk to yourself as you flop down onto your sofa and think through a response.

Hey, it takes two to tango, pal. You could have texted me, too.

The bubbles make your heart pound.

Alright, that’s fair.

In my defense, I didn’t have any more cheese puns.

Oh, is that all this is, then?

You just use me for dad jokes?

Psh, nooooooo…

Then, another text.

Although, the jokes do make my days…cheddar.

You laugh a little louder, suddenly very aware of the flush in your face over some stranger in your phone.

No, wait. How do I erase a text?

I hated that.

Seriously, how do I make it go away?

My failure is staring me in the face, and I hate it.

You giggle under your breath.

Easy, Grandpa.

Relax, just press down until the options pop up.

The conversation goes quiet for a brief moment before you watch his previous text vanish from the screen with a dramatic, poof!

Then, he begins typing again.

Hold on…

Did you just call me Grandpa?

…psh, noooooooo

Oh, so that’s how it is?

That’s how it is.

Wow, and we had such a nice thing going, too.

To be fair, you never told me your age, and you don’t even know how to delete a text.

What am I supposed to think?

First of all: rude.

Respect your elders.

Second of all: this deleting shit is NEW, okay, and I just updated my phone, like…a week ago, so I never learned.

Uh-huh.

No, yeah, whatever you say, Grandps.

He responds with the emoji that’s rolling its eyes.

You smirk.

For your information, I’m 29.

Okay, which is a cool, hip, fun, and very fresh age.

Yes, I believe that’s the slogan for the retirement home, too.

“We’re cool, we’re slick, and we might break a hip.”

There’s a longer pause between your text and his response. You hope it’s because he’s laughing. It’s not your best work, but you think it’s funny.

And then, you get the notification.

Dammit, that place sounds so much cooler than the retirement home I’m in now.

Send me the address? I’ll wheel myself over.

You got it, Old Man. Will you need any help crossing the street?

How thoughtful of you. Yeah, that’d be great, and then you can finally earn your Girl Scout badge.

Oh, my God. How did you know it was the last one I needed?

Cause I’m old. And therefore wise.

Oh, right, right. No, that checks out.

Yeah.

You lean back, forcing your eyes away from your phone to finally get a moment of reprieve from the excessive smiling. Why is this so fun?

I guess 29 isn’t so bad. Just…three years older than me.

Ah, another piece to the Cheese Girl puzzle.

You’re 26.

Indeed.

26 was fun.

I liked 26.

Yeah, it’s not too bad so far.

Just wait until your bones start to creak whenever you get out of bed.

I’ll keep a can of oil on my nightstand.

You grimace to yourself. Your worst joke to date, and you just hope you haven’t blown it.

Probably smart.

My preferred method is lube, but…

Whatever works.

Your eyes widen.

Oh?

Yeah.

My bones might creak but at least I can still fuck.

Well…shit.

You readjust your position on the sofa, desperately working to find a cool and relaxed and equally mysterious reply.

…so, no pressure.

Just be careful with all that lube.

Wouldn’t want you to slip and fall.

Hope you’ve got Life Alert on speed dial.

Oh, I absolutely do. They love me over there.

You smirk to yourself, fighting yet another laugh.

Yeah? Thank God.

Boy, I bet you’re a real stud with the ladies, huh?

Damn fucking right.

This grandpa has moves.

I bet. Yeah, women love a man that squeaks when he thrusts.

They do, actually. I happen to squeak quite sensually.

Is that right?

It is.

Damn.

Might need to hear that for myself someday.

It was bold. Perhaps a little daring, and you don’t give yourself a chance to overthink it before turning your phone off and tossing it onto the other side of the sofa.

You give it five minutes before checking to see if he’s replied.

Thankfully, you have two notifications, delivered 3 minutes ago.

Yeah?

So what’s stopping you?

What is stopping you?

Probably a number of things, but instead of pointing out that he’s a complete stranger and could very well be a catfish (or even worse…that he might not even find you attractive) you decide to go with another joke.

All these Girl Scout cookies I gotta sell :/

Shit.

Yeah.

What if I bought a hundred boxes?

Then you’d have to hand deliver them to my door, right?

Your eyes roll playfully as you sigh.

That IS the Girl Scout policy, yes.

We pride ourselves on good service.

Fantastic, then I’ll take 100 boxes in the flavor of you.

Your lashes flutter as you reread the text, over, and over, and over. But before you can spiral…he’s sending another.

…shit, that was meant to be smooth.

Get it, cause…like, you know, get a taste of YOU. Like…if you were a cookie.

Cause…I wanna taste you…

Explaining it makes it worse, doesn’t it?

It should make it worse, but for some reason…he’s funny? And charming? And making your thighs squeeze together—

I think that can be arranged, yeah.

I’ll package them up nice and pretty, just for you.

Equally as cheesy, but apparently…cheese is where you both shine.

You hope he’s at least somewhat amused, and when he finally responds, your stomach flips.

This conversation is bad for my health.

Yeah?

Why’s that?

Because I’m in a meeting and I’m about to have a heart attack.

…why are you about to have a heart attack?

Oh, right. I forgot that happens at your old age.

Ha.

Funny.

Good thing you have Life Alert on speed dial.

Yeah, I don’t think Life Alert is gonna be able to help.

No? Why not?

Cause only one thing can save me now.

Cookies.

Your cookies.

To be exact.

See? Cheesy.

Wow, I was almost turned on and then…

Nope, there it goes.

Oh, is that what we’re doing? We’re trying to turn each other on?

Well, why didn’t you SAY so?

Hold on, I’ve got a few good ones.

Oh god.

Alright, here we go.

So…

What are you wearing?

…really? That’s all you’ve got?

Work with me please.

My gosh.

Clothes.

I have clothes on.

Yeah?

That’s a shame.

Two minutes go by without him adding anything else, and you can’t help but laugh when you realize that’s all he’s got.

Wowwwwww…

No, that was so good. I’m…holy shit, you just took my breath away. I’m so turned on right now.

I mean, my panties just FLEW across the room!

You’re THAT good!

Okay, very funny.

I wasn’t done.

No, really. You gotta warn a girl before you just completely rock her world like that.

Honestly, I feel a little faint.

Where did you learn such a masterful technique? Really, you should teach a class on sexting, cause that was just…phew.

Listen, I was just trying to take it easy on you.

You know, ease you into my seduction before I gave it to you good and hard.

The last bit of his sentence has you stumbling over a gasp, but you simply clear your throat and work to find a response.

You have two options:

Either you tease him a bit more…

…or you ramp up the tension.

Well, by all means, Harry…

Give it to me good.

And hard.

He doesn’t respond for quite some time to this. And while you’d like to tell yourself that it’s because he’s just so turned on by your response…

…it’s more likely that you definitely fucked up and he wants nothing more to do with you.

But then…your phone dings.

Is that what you want then, hm?

Want it rough?

Shit, shit, shit.

Yeah.

If you think you can keep up.

Trust me, sweetheart, that won’t be a problem.

If you want it rough, I’m more than happy to oblige.

Is that why you texted me today?

Needed my help?

Truth be told, you don’t know why you texted him today, but you certainly aren’t upset with how things are going.

Me? Needing YOUR help?

Cute, but I think my fingers and I can manage just fine.

His response comes so fast, your head spins:

…fuck.

You smile.

Shit, okay now this conversation is REALLY bad for my health.

I might keel over right here in this meeting.

My death is on your hands, Cheese Girl.

Worth it.

You watch the bubbles float onto your screen for a good thirty seconds before they disappear.

Then, they appear again…just to dissipate before you can get your hopes up.

Finally—finally…a text.

Okay, listen, you don’t know me.

And I don’t know you.

I get that.

I’m a stranger, you’re a stranger.

But…

And hear me out…

What would you say to a phone call?

Your pulse stutters as you stare at his proposition, but he’s already sending his next text before you can decide if you’re really that stupid or not.

I know that’s asking a lot, but…

If you promise that you aren’t a 90-year-old man, and I promise I’m not some kid playing video games in his mom’s basement…

We could at least…have a real conversation.

And make sure that we really are who we say we are, you know?

And I could be assured that I didn’t just get a fucking boner in the middle of a busy boardroom cause of some perverted, internet creep that makes cheese jokes.

You hesitate.

Despite yourself, you are intrigued by the idea.

Worst-case scenario if he is some loser…you can just hang up and block his number.

And if he’s not…and he’s half as hot as you’re starting to hope he is…

You swallow.

Thickly.

I am not some perverted, internet creep that makes cheese jokes.

I’m just a regular creep that makes cheese jokes.

Promise.

And…yeah.

I would be okay with a phone call.

As long as you do in fact promise I won’t regret it and that it won’t result in nightmares that haunt me for the rest of my life.

Ah, well…

Can’t say much for the regret…

But I do promise that I will try very hard not to give you nightmares.

God, are you really doing this?

Are you really doing this?

Alright, then…

Oh, so you’re doing it. You’re really that dumb. You really just let a complete stranger convince you to call him, even though he could be a serial killer, or a psycho, or—

Your phone rings.

You see his name pop up in large print as the cellphone just about flies out of your hand.

Scrambling to keep it steady, you lurch forward and collect a deep breath.

You can do this.

You’ll give him thirty seconds. And if he seems creepy…you’ll hang up, and you’ll move on.

And you’ll never get random boys in bars numbers again.

You press your thumb into the button on your screen and slide it to the right.

Here goes nothing.

“…hello?”

~ iFall for Harry pt. 3 (the third part to this!)

~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ More Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tag List:

@tinyhrry @supersanelyromantic @lomlhstyles

#harry #harry edward styles #harry styles #harry styles fan #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles request #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles text #ifall for harry #harry and cheese girl

945 notes · View notes

girlactionfigure · 3 months

Text

Im so sick of it

I'm sick of the duplicity of the world. Of the lies. Of the hate for our people.

I'm sick of the fact that people can make up any lie they want-- and it will be believed, as long as it's against Israel.

I'm sick of the vilification of our people.

I'm sick of not being able to be human. Everyone else is allowed to be human. But not us. Our humanity only exists when we are dead and stay dead, when we accept death like good Jews. We can only be human when we are a young girl with a diary - killed before she grows up to be a Jewish woman. She is pure and good. And dead. *She* is allowed to be human.

I'm sick of the veneration of Palestinians as angels. As holy martyrs like Jesus who die for humanity's sins. Who are the stick with which the Jews are beaten and the collective guilt forged around our necks

I'm sick of the vapid, mindless, privileged fcks who call for our extinction without repercussions. Who win virtue points with pithy slogans that are euphemisms for genocide.

I'm sick of the spineless, "as a Jews" who go along with them, bending over with a "thank you sir may I have another" claiming the moral high ground as they tread on our people

I'm sick of the idiot soldiers who act like buffoons or racists and upload their idiocy to the internet making the majority - the good upstanding people of the IDF look bad.

I'm sick of having to beg to be heard, for our pain to count, for the world to understand that they are playing into Iran's hands in every step of this masterplan to destroy the West and the Jews

I'm sick of balancing love of my people with hatred of this government, walking that thin thin line that barely holds me up. Not asking the questions of HOW DID THIS HAPPEN and WHERE WERE YOU because this unity we've found is the glory of Israel

I'm sick of not being unable to say BRING THEM HOME at any cost because there are some costs too hard to bear if we are going to prevent this from happening again.

I'm sick of waking up on repeat just to realize this isn't a nightmare.

Shoshanna Keats Jaskoll

@skjask

#Israel #October 7 #Hamas Massacre #HamasislSIS #BringThemHomeNow #BringThemAllHomeNow #HamasKidnappers

144 notes · View notes

ghcstao3 · 9 months

Note

I loved your post about SoapGhost's summer coping mechanisms, bc it's ridiculously hot everywhere (& they're incredibly cute AF). but the post did mention 1 thing: Ghost having shorts for the occasion.

now I'm imagining Soap's reaction, the 1st time Ghost comes out wearing nothing but some black booty shorts with skeleton hands clutching his buttcheeks--

or even better: the peak 80s outfit, complete with an ashen grey crop top with some sarcastic phrase on it + the black skelly hand butt shorts + black Converse 👌🏽

(i made the reveal pre-relationship because it just hits better i think)

The first time Ghost wears The Outfit, Soap is sure his brain just about melts out of his ears.

In a good way, of course. A so-good-it’s-almost-bad way. Because not once did Soap ever stop to think of the possibility of Ghost owning clothes like that.

That being the worst (best) short-shorts he’s ever seen, the outdated ironic-slogan crop top, and the honest-to-God Converse Soap would have thought Ghost to sneer at if ever presented with such a footwear option.

But no. Not on this too-hot summer day, when Ghost is showing nearly as much skin as he might in his birthday suit.

Soap thinks he might explode.

There’s just something so cruel about the way Ghost’s muscles flex whenever he moves, the way his pale skin flushes pink so easily in the heat, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat.

Unfair, is what it is, that Ghost just has his arms and stomach and legs out in the open like that and Soap can’t just sink his teeth in. What he wouldn’t do for even the slightest chance to taste the salt off of—

“—geant? Johnny?”

Soap blinks. Ghost looks at him expectedly through those blond lashes of his, face hidden by a balaclava he still insists on wearing in spite of the weather. God, Soap hates him. He wants to kiss every inch of his bare skin.

“What?” Soap replies dumbly. In all honesty, he hadn’t been paying attention for a very long time.

Ghost just scoffs. He doesn’t bother repeating whatever it was he just said, instead choosing to hit Soap with a raised eyebrow and an almost too casual, “Like something you see?”

I’m not sure where to start, Soap thinks. His thighs? Biceps? Hands, waist, calves? His list might take him all day to rattle off.

So he condenses it into a simple, weak, “Aye, sir.”

Ghost considers him a moment. His eyes flicker over Soap’s own covered body, lips surely twisting into some sort of unreadable expression beneath the mask.

But Soap wouldn’t know. He’s too busy drinking in the sight of everything he may never get the chance to see again.

Ghost hums. It’s possible he says something else, but Soap would be screwed if someone asked him to repeat it—because as Ghost turns to leave, Soap is too busy gawking at the pair of skeleton hands hugging Ghost’s ass to function to any acceptable degree.

Soap thinks distantly, watching the lieutenant walk away, that if Ghost ever wore The Outfit again, it would never, ever be too soon.

#ask #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soapghost #ghostsoap #writing #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #ghost x soap #ghoap

192 notes · View notes

pleasingforharry · 2 years

Text

Wired Autocomplete Interview

actress!yn

Y/N L/N and Harry Styles Answer the Web’s Most Searched Questions | Wired

“Okay, take six,” You laughed as you imitated a clap board. You looked over at your boyfriend who had his lips rolled inwards to hide his giggles. “This is taking forever because of you, mister.” With one hand, you held his cheeks, your thumb on one side and the other fingers on the other.

“No, I promise I got this,” He grabbed your wrist and shook your arm.

“Hello, ‘m Harry—wait,” He shook his head at his lack of remembering his line.

You threw your head back and groaned, “Oh my god, H. Come on.” You both laughed, along with the crew behind the camera, knowing how the other introductions got cut. “It’s week three of interviews, give him a minute.”

“Hi, ‘m Y/N L/N,” Harry introduced himself and finished with a sweet smile, before looking at you.

“And I’m Harry Styles,” You exclaimed with your best impression of his British voice. “And we are here to do the—” you dragged out, waiting for him to finish the rest.

Harry squinted his eyes, before dropping his head in defeat. Everyone’s groans were heard, as well as a slap of a hand to someone’s forehead.

You turned in your chair to completely face your boyfriend and rested your hand on the nape of his neck, playing with loose curls.

“Are you ever going to let us get to the interview part?” You giggled, leaning close enough to lay an innocent kiss on his cheek before humming for an answer.

“I don’t even know at this point,” He sighed.

“And this is the Wired Autocomplete interview,” you both finished in sync, before high-fiving one another.

Harry raised a thumbs up at the camera but looked at his girlfriend. “Let’s do this, baby,” He whispered, not caring if the microphone picked it up.

[Autocomplete suggests the most common searches on the internet]

"I feel like someone is going to ask about my obsession with Dr. Pepper,” You smirked at Harry as you waited for your boards to be handed to you. Harry nodded, and shrugged one of his shoulders.

“I’d like the know the answer to that too.”

You tilted you head at him. “I told you not to question it, Harold. He’s the sweet one,” You imitated the high pitched slogan of Dr. Pepper.

[So WIRED asked Y/N L/N and Harry Styles some of the internet’s burning questions]

You were handed Harry’s question board first and adjusted so it could be seen by the camera and also the both of you.

“Is Harry Styles? Good question,” Harry joked, looking at the camera. “No, he isn’t, is the simple answer.” You chuckled before beginning to peel the first strip of paper.

“Is Harry Styles... British?” Both you and Harry widened your eyes at each other, before furrowing your brows. “Is there something you want to tell me, H?”

He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Honestly, I thought I was hiding it very well, but yes, I am,” Harry answered to the camera with a sigh.

The next question was revealed. “Is Harry Styles... dating? You single bastards,” You joked, pointing at the camera.

Harry smirked at you, before answering. “Yes, I am. To whom? This dashing woman right here with me.” His arm slithered around your shoulder and leaned you closer to him as you crumbled up the piece of paper in your hand. “Two years, right?” He spoke against your ear, causing you to internally shiver. You nodded and smiled shyly.

“Not tired of me yet?” You asked. He used his free hand to scratch the back of his neck as he glanced away. You used the board to hit his chest. “God, I hate this man.”

“Two years strong.”

Next question: “Is Harry Styles... in a new movie?”

“Yes, I am. 'The Good and Bad Days’ coming out very very soon. And I’m in it with my beautiful costar here, Y/N L/N,” Harry explained, setting his hand on your arm that sat on your chair’s armrest and rubbing it sweetly. The board covered the interaction as you both stared at each other lovingly. You knew your fans were going to go crazy over the simplest things you do with Harry.

You striped another piece to reveal, “Is Harry Styles...in Stranger Things?” You both read out loud in confusing tones. You glanced at Harry, who only shrugged.

“I don’t think so?” Harry looked at the camera then back at you. “Love?”

“I remember seeing something about you looking like Jonathan, but I don’t see it,” You held his chin to move his head in different directions. Harry hummed at the feeling of your touch, even if it was barely there. “But no, he wasn’t.”

You looked back at the board and peeled off the last question. “And last but not least, Is Harry Styles... a singer?” You had to use the board to cover your burst of laughter. Harry stared at the camera with a blank expression before shaking his head.

“You really think I can sing? I leave that talent to the professionals. The ones who have a new album ‘Fine Line’ coming out this December thirteenth,” He grew a smile as he somehow slipped in a self promotion. You were actually impressed with how he did that so smoothly.

“I liked that one, babe,” You gave him a high-five, which he took gracefully.

Harry received your board of questions and quickly cleared his throat before starting to peel them away.

“First question up is, How...to be Y/N L/N?”

You gasped, “Is that really the top searched question of mine? Guys,” You awed at the camera, “I love you all, but don’t be me, I have a crooked big toe.”

“They want to be as beautiful as you, love,” Harry added. You were about to awe again, but then it suddenly hit you. He noticed your expression turning bored. “What happened?”

“You f[bleep]ers,” You cursed before laughing, “You want to know how to be Harry’s girlfriend. I caught you guys red handed.” Harry furrowed his brows, confused on why your mind went to that.

He reached his free hand behind you to rub your back. “Are you sure they meant that?”

You smirked at the camera, “I’ll make a YouTube video, babes.”

Next is, “How... old is Y/N L/N?” Harry read. “Forty seven,” He answered for you, nonchalantly, before moving onto the next question. You rolled your eyes, before cupping her hands around your lips and mouthed ‘twenty four’.

“You’re an [bleep], baby,” You snorted and pinched his thigh. He didn’t flinch at the gesture but actually bit his lip. His reaction to that only had your fans that were watching gasping in their hands.

“How... tall is Y/N L/N?” the next question read. Harry looked at you to allow the answer to fall in your hands. You tilted your head in thought, before getting an idea.

You grabbed the board from your boyfriend and jumped out of your chair. “Hop down, handsome,” You directed him, and he followed suit. The camera had to zoom out to keep both of your bodies in frame. You set the board on the floor and stood close in front of your boyfriend. Your chests touched and your chin rested right between his collarbones as you looked up at him.

He tilted his chin down to look at you and smiled at your closeness. Even with the knowledge that he was on camera, sharing what he considered an intimate moment with his girlfriend, Harry still leaned down to plant a quick kiss on your lips.

You were very taken back by it, but didn’t want to make it obvious. Your eyes widened, but you quickly squinted them as you spoke. “Thank you, and I think this helps decipher my height because I have no idea. You guys out there definitely know his height somehow, though.”

Harry nodded, knowing that was very true.

You both were back in your chairs, answering more individual questions back and forth. But the very last board was about your new movie you guys were promoting.

Harry held the board and peeled off the paper that time.

“Okay last first question, “What is... ‘The Good and Bad Days’ about?” Harry read before motioning to you. “You give good summaries, darling.”

“Oh, okay, well quick explanation without any juicy spoilers, the movie is about this couple, Leah and Matthew, being newly wed and experiencing the truth about the beginning good and bad days of marriage. They love, they fight, they makeup, and do it all over again. Really intense movie because a lot of people can relate, which I hope you’re all getting through it day by day,” You said, giving a heart at the camera. Harry nodded in agreement and also praised your great explanation.

He turned his attention back to the board. “Does ‘The Good and Bad Days’... have a happy ending?” You and Harry glanced at each other and exchanged multiple expressions.

You decided to answer again. “All marriages are different, as well as their endings. It’s either ‘Happily Ever After’ or divorce or something else. So, our movie tries to display the multiple outcomes of new marriages. The ‘happy ending’ is what you think is a happy ending is to a new marriage,” you break down, trying to avoid actually giving away the obvious answer. Harry smiled at you, clear heart eyes forming.

You and Harry answered the rest of the board and when you finished, he threw the board at the camera. Luckily it was light so the wind flew it right over before it hit the lens.

Harry waved and said, “Thank you for having us, Wired. We had a blast realizing that the internet doesn’t care one bit about Y/N’s Dr. Pepper obsession.”

“Thanks, Internet,” You blew a kiss at the camera. “Don’t forget to check out ‘The Good and Bad Days’ when it releases in theaters two weeks from today.” Harry dramatically cheered, causing you to flinch and widen your eyes at him.

“Y/N is great in it, so don’t miss out,” Harry added, pointing at the camera. You awed and reached your arms out to wrap him in a hug and kissed his cheek.

“Alright, we’ll be making out in his dressing room, see ya!”

#harry styles #harrystyles #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #actress!yn #harry styles imagine #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles social media #harry styles blurb #boyfriend!harry #Harry styles one shot #harry styles fan fic

3K notes · View notes