#so i’m like genuinely happy for everyone there even if i’m not a fan myself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

poisonf0rest · 19 days

Text

Kiss Shot

love and deepspace: zayne x fem!reader

tags: smut, light bondage, teasing, semi-public sex, praise kink, pwp, dom!zayne, sir kink, pool & billiards, oh he has pretty hands, exclusive tutorial card

word count: 8.2K

synopsis: Zayne has curated a perfectly polished reputation. He’s a renowned surgeon, the youngest of his graduating class, has a plethora of research papers in his name, and is well-liked and respected amongst his peers. And he would throw it all away to have you like this again, whining and desperate as he fucks you over a billiard table. It’s not fair, really, how easily you manage to get Zayne riled up. Especially when you call him sir.

original ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55931518

Your negroni is fifty percent water by now.

The flock of past classmates, professors, and adorning fans has been relentless, swarming the bar where you and Zayne currently sit— or perhaps more accurately, swarming where the distinguished Dr. Zayne sits.

You sigh under your breath, fussing with the cocktail dress slit against your thigh before taking another sip of your drink, the melted ice dulling the burn of the gin. It has only been an hour since you arrived, and yet you can already feel your social battery reach its limits, tired of going through the same motions for every other person who bothers to acknowledge your presence: a smile, what’s your name, are you a surgeon as well, what’s your connection to Zayne, no we’re not together.

It’s not that you haven’t met fascinating individuals— your first round of drinks was shared with two sisters, old classmates of Zayne’s who were now Linkon’s top OB/GYN doctors and genuinely the sweetest women you’ve talked to today.

But everyone has limits. And with the relentless swarm sucking up to Zayne, it hardly gives you a moment of peace, let alone an opportunity to talk with your date for the evening.

Thinking about the stipulations of your relationship and what this night even means for the two of you sends your mind reeling further, and you finish the rest of your negroni in a shot, wincing.

As if sensing your frustration, the doctor in question looks up from his conversation with a classmate. Zayne gives a knowing, apologetic smile before returning to his conversation, the gesture leaving you with a fluttering in your chest.

Calling the bartender over, you place another drink on the tab before tuning in to the conversation next to you as you hear the echo of laughter.

“No, no, I’ve been lucky enough to have seen it myself!” An older man laughs again, his drink nearly sloshing over the rim as he smacks Zayne’s shoulder. You snort at the way he stiffens. “Our Dr. Zayne isn’t just a professional at work, you should see him play billiards. Let me tell you, he’s amazing at both the operating table and the pool table”

A deep sigh. “You drank too much…”

“Nonsense!” The man pats Zayne again before recounting a story from their residency days to the crowd of onlookers.

You yourself are rather engrossed too, more than happy to learn more about your elusive doctor, especially these hidden talents he seems set on keeping from you. Zayne, on the other hand, is far from impressed. Brows furrowed, he turns from where he sits against the bar counter to scan your face.

Leaning in closer, you inhale sharply at the feel of his cool breath against your ear. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

His thoughtfulness would be sweet if it weren’t for the way Zayne had whispered it, lips brushing against your sensitive skin as you shudder at the slow, deep cadence of his voice.

Noticing your hesitation, Zayne’s hand comes up to rest on your knee, thumb slipping under your dress’ slit. He cocks his head, waiting for your response, drawing soothing circles against your bare skin, which is having quite the opposite effect.

Panicking, you shake your head. “I’m alright. Plus, I’d feel bad stealing you away from all your adoring fans so soon, Dr. Zayne.”

He scoffs under his breath, but you see the slight curl in the corner of his lips. Still, he has yet to let go of your thigh, and you decide to shift closer, turning in your seat so your knees brush against Zayne’s, his hand involuntarily sliding higher.

His fingers are calloused and worn, a testament to his many years spent in the medical field, and his grip is firm against your thigh. It feels familiar, and the memories of his hands on you in many different places sends heat rushing to your cheeks.

The thought doesn't seem to have left his mind either, judging by the way his eyes dart down to your parted lips.

Clearing his throat, Zayne looks away. He is about to say something when you decide to interrupt instead.

“Besides,” you hum, taking a sip of wine. “If the rumors are to be believed, then I’m missing quite a show. Is our Dr. Zayne really that skilled at pool?”

“Ah.” Zayne retracts his hand, clearing his throat as he straightens up in his seat. ”You’re trying to gang up on me.”

You know him well enough to recognize the hint of embarrassment in the way he avoids your gaze. But before you can tease him further, another cheery voice interrupts.

“We meet again, sir!” A young man practically bounces over to the bar, caught between a bow and a handshake as he stumbles into both, flashing a gummy smile at Zayne.

You raise a brow at his overwhelming enthusiasm, glancing at Zayne as you watch recognition flash across his face.

“Good evening. It’s Steven, yes? You don’t need to address me as “sir”.” Zayne nearly grimaces as he says the word, and you take a sip from your drink to hide your growing smile.

“Yes! I’m honored you remembered.” Steven nods vigorously. “But anything less would be inappropriate. After all, you taught me so much with your hands-on instruction, I owe my knowledge and successful residency so far to you, sir.”

Still, Zayne shuts him down. “I was only doing what I should have done. Any credit beyond that is your own.”

It’s almost like he’s allergic to praise.

“Humble and smart,” Steven laughs, winking all-too-obviously at you. “Regardless, I just wanted to thank you for everything formally, sir. You two have a wonderful rest of your night!”

“Yes.” Zayne frowns, leaning ever so slightly closer to you. ”To you as well.”

Quickly feigning ignorance, you pretend to be absorbed in the powerpoint some professor is giving on the opposite side of the venue, immediately lost in a diagram of a heart valve. You’re about to take another sip of your drink when something pinches your ear. Yelping at the sting, you jump in your seat, whirling around to face the culprit.

Zayne scoffs. “I could see you eavesdropping a mile away. Did you find anything interesting?”

“Oh, aside from learning that you are extremely humble, smart, handsome, and rather adept at hands-on instruction, nothing much,” you lean against the counter, blinking up at Zayne through your lashes as you sing the last word, “Sir.”

You watch his jaw clench, a rigid movement that makes your heart skip. Zayne laughs, a harsh, sharp sound. He shakes his head before his hand grips your jaw, tugging you gently but firmly towards him. His eyes narrow, and your heart stutters.

“Clever girl. What is it you want this time?”

This time. As if Zayne could refuse you anything, as if the mere sight of you isn't enough to make him go mad.

But you're not the only one who knows how to play. And he rather likes watching just how far you’ll go.

Smiling innocently, you rest a hand on Zayne’s shoulder. The warmth of his skin seeps through the silky material of his suit. You can't help but slide your hand further up, tracing the curve of his neck with your thumb. “Well…” You lick your lips, tasting the waxy remnants of your lipstick as you fight to keep your voice even under Zayne’s piercing gaze. ”You never did any hands-on training with me, and everyone says what an honor it’s been to be taught by you, sir. I wonder what I’ll have to do to experience it finally.”

Zayne sighs, and for a moment, he appears disappointed.

“It seems like you truly want to learn about surgeries.” A scoff, and Zayne’s face seems to fall back to its stoic facade. But he pulls you closer, tilting your head so his lips graze your earlobe once more. “Who knew my little hunter was so skilled at acting?”

You gasp, placing a hand on your chest in faux surprise. “What accusations, doctor. Besides, I was thinking about something with a… less steep learning curve.”

Zayne hums thoughtfully, thumb venturing from your jaw as it brushes across your lips. Once. Twice. Three times before he stands up, hand finally dropping from your face as he grabs your wrist instead.

“Then allow me to take our first lesson elsewhere.”

You don’t offer any sort of resistance as Zayne leads you through the crowd, opting to let go of your wrist and guide you away from prying eyes, hand instead lingering against the small of your back as he walks beside you. He opens the door for you, directing the two of you down one of the main venue halls, echoes of conversation muffled by the soft ding of an elevator. Zayne flashes his medical ID before clicking the top floor, the sensor buzzing green as it carries you up with the smooth flow of elevator jazz.

Zayne’s hand has yet to leave your waist. His thumb goes back to tracing soft circles against the divots in your back as though from habit, nearly touching bare skin due to the sweeping backless design of your dress. You fight the urge to lean further into him, already fidgeting in your heels at the thought of his touch, slow and careful and calculated, elsewhere.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the chime of the elevator.

Oh, god, snap out of it. You rush out of the elevator, hoping Zayne didn’t notice the furious heat you can feel rising from your cheeks to the tips of your ears.

Smoothing some loose hair back behind your ear, you close your eyes and focus on taking deep breaths, as if it’ll push all these obscene scenarios of Zayne’s large, perfect hands doing unspeakable things out of your mind.

It works for a moment, expelling all these potential scenarios and instead reminding you of every time Zayne has taken action. Memories of him after hours at the clinic, during movie nights when neither of you paid attention to the TV, and even the drive here where he decided to—

“Does the sight of a billiard table scare you that much?”

The heat from earlier is back in full force. Your eyes snap open, and you are greeted with Zayne’s signature eyebrow raise, feigning concern despite his amused smile that only grows more prominent when he notices the flush creeping across your skin.

“Hardly.” You force a smile, turning your head as you refuse to let him gloat. “I’m just so ecstatic that I’ll finally receive hands-on training from the Dr. Zayne.”

A low hum, “Yes, at least until you feel well enough to go back and socialize.”

He says this, yet you know Zayne is just as happy as you are to finally escape from the crowds below.

“Well,” you purr, “take care of me until then, sir.”

You giggle as he frowns at the title, waltzing past him to a corner pool table in the billiard hall. The floor is dedicated to different tabletop games, all lined up against numerous floor-to-ceiling windows aglow with a gorgeous view of Linkon City. The city lights bleed in since the entire room was rather dim, no doubt an artistic choice, adorned sensually with faux candlelight chandeliers and the low timber of jazz.

“Have you played before?”

“Once or twice– some call me a natural genius.” You brush imaginary hair from your shoulders as Zayne scoffs before handing you a cue stick. Lacing his hand into your own, you pull the stick and thus him closer. “Why? Are you going to be strict with me, sir?”

Seeing through your jab, Zayne responds without hesitation. “Strict teachers make outstanding students. Let’s start.”

You pout, about to walk to the other side of the pool table to observe his shot, when Zayne’s arm laces around your waist, holding you against him for a second longer.

“And no more distractions.”

Not trusting your voice, you nod, watching as he bends to aim the cue, muscles beneath his sleeves flexing with each calculated movement. You hear the sound of a cue stick colliding with its target, but your attention is too focused on his fingers to process any of the actual movements.

Another sharp click breaks the silence. You watch as the cue ball collides with a red striped one, sending the former skittering off the sides while the other sinks into the pocket with a dull thud.

“You’re unfairly good at this.”

Zayne raises a brow, “Maybe it’s because a surgeon requires steady hands.”

And the moment you glance down, any chance of salvation is lost.

You’re not a fool. You’ve noticed Zayne’s hands before, on more occasions than you’d care to admit. But it’s as he says and more.

Lining up for another shot, you watch him stretch forward, forearms exposed from his deliciously rolled-up sleeves and discarded blazer, your eyes tracing every prominent vein down to his hands, spread wide against the table, tense as the stick rests against his pointer finger and thumb. Even in the dim lighting you can see pale silver scars littering his forearms, and you swear you’ve never seen something so beautiful, like traces of frost against marble.

Again, it shouldn’t be a surprise that a surgeon must take good care of their hands, but it’s nearly unfair how gorgeous Zayne’s are. Not only that, but you remember how comforting his hands feel against your own, how they caressed your thigh earlier tonight, and just how attentive and precise they can be.

“You’re not focusing on my lesson.”

Shit.

With a single strike, Zayne tries to sink another ball, but the angle is just off, and the striped ball hits the corner of the pocket, ricocheting against the wood with a dull thud.

Zayne leans against the pool table, cue stick resting against his shoulder.

"Your turn."

Copying Zayne’s movements as best you can, you clumsily position your cue stick between your knuckles, aiming for what seemed to be a fairly easy shot. Only for the ball to ricochet far left as the white ball knocks into it. Even your cue stick wobbles after, as if shaking in laughter at your poor shot.

Frowning, you look up to see Zayne’s disapproving gaze locked onto the pool table.

“Is there not an easier way to do this? One more suitable for beginners?”

“There is.” Zayne leans in, his expression betraying nothing. “First, try adjusting your posture. You’ll see better results.”

Another sigh, and you halfheartedly drape yourself over the table again. “Like this? I’m not sure I fully understand, I think I need your help identifying my weak spots via more hands-on learning, sir.”

“Allow me to guide you, then.”

For a moment you think you’ll have to bait Zayne more, yet before you can figure out how to push the stubborn doctor any further, you feel the weight of his hands, heavy against your shoulder and hip.

Zayne shifts forward, and you can feel the fabric of his suit vest graze the bare skin of your back, his hands unnaturally cool against the dips in your waist as he nudges your back into an arch. You comply, Zayne’s body nearly folding atop yours as his chest brushes your back.

He takes the cue stick from your hand.

“You’re too tense,” Zayne pats your back two times. Your waist immediately bends, and you hear him laugh under his breath. “And now you’re too relaxed.”

With his hands still pressed against your waist, Zayne repositions himself and thus you as well, and you can feel the chill of each exhale against the crook of your neck.

He guides your aim, lining it up to the cue ball. The tip brushes ever so gently against the felt surface as it pushes, slowly and deliberately, practicing the gentle back-and-forth motion as you struggle to keep pace.

“Drop your left arm. Allow it to bend naturally.” He taps your elbow and waist. “Your head, dominant arm, and the cue stick should all form a straight line.”

You begin to shuffle according to Zayne’s instructions, hinging your hips backward before you realize what a wonderfully compromising position he’s placed you in. As discreetly as possible, you allow your right leg to step backward, movement forcing you further against Zayne as you press the curve of your ass into his hips. Immediately, you’re rewarded with a sharp inhale next to your ear.

But instead of pulling away or reprimanding you Zayne merely continues with the lesson, almost frustratingly unaffected if it wasn’t for the fact that you could feel his reaction grow between your thighs.

Still, he is nothing if not a professional as he whispers against your jaw, "Behave.”

"I am," you reply, and one of Zayne’s hands comes up to guide your cue stick. “...It just hurts a little.”

You don’t have to see his face to know that Zayne is giving you a smug smile.

“That means it’s correct.”

You take a deep breath. You practice the same back-and-forth motions, thrusting the stick forward on the third, watching as your cue stick strikes the white ball, sending a solid orange one rolling.

Another click and a thud, and you successfully land a pocket.

Just when you feel like you’re finally getting the hang of it, you make the fatal mistake of looking down to where Zayne's fingers guide yours against the cue stick, and your brain turns to scramble once more. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a soft, fleeting sensation.

And you miss.

Zayne is quiet for a long moment, tilting his head, letting the warmth of his cheek press against your neck. “Snap out of it. Are you even paying attention?”

Bastard. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Of course,” you retort, skin feeling uncomfortably hot even when Zayne finally steps back from you, your body searing the memory of his touch into every nerve. “I’ll score the next one myself.”

He hums and cocks an eyebrow as if telling you to go on, prove him wrong.

“Remember, move the cue stick to gauge the shot two or three times, then stop at the position closest to the ball.”

You do, gauging the weight of the cue stick, bending down over the table so your chest nearly brushes with the felt, narrowing in on the solid green ball.

“Stop and pull back the cue stick in three, two, one.”

On Zayne’s command, you strike, a satisfying click followed by the thump of the ball falling into the corner pocket. You scored. All on your own.

“It went in!” You jolt up, spinning as you laugh.

“So it did. Seems like your pool skills are less about precision and more… passion.” Zayne’s lips twitch into a smile, and you’re not foolish enough to ignore his double meaning. “Granted, you might need a little more than passion to come back and win this round.”

You scoff, attempting to change the subject without drawing attention to how red your face has gotten. “Well then, perhaps if you’re not too committed to this doctor thing there’s still a chance for you in the professional billiard space.”

“No, thank you. Now, think you can make another shot by yourself?”

“Wait a moment. When a student does well, shouldn’t they get a reward?”

“Very well,” Zayne relents, tone even despite the searing gaze he practically strips down your body. “What do you want?”

“There are a few balls blocking my next shot. Help me?”

A beat, and he blinks at you incredulously. “That is all?”

“What’s wrong, Dr. Zayne? Scared that if you give me too much help, I’ll steal this victory from you?”

“Provocation doesn’t work on me.”

“Then come here.”

God, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to how pliant he is for you, obeying your command without so much as a moment of hesitation. His larger frame now towers above you, close enough that you have to crane your neck to maintain eye contact. And you can’t help but tease him a bit more. It’s not your fault his obedience gives you a rush.

“Closer,” you whisper, teasing your fingers against his vest buttons. “Or else I can’t reach it.”

Still, Zayne complies. Although this time his brows furrow, shuffling closer so his knee slips between yours and your chest presses against his. “What exactly are you…”

You yank his tie, pushing him down atop the felt tabletop before he can finish his sentence.

There’s a dull thud, Zayne’s vest ruffled as you pin him to the table. He still looks frustratingly composed, not a hair out of place, but you feel his chest rise and fall uncharacteristically fast under your palm.

Smiling in victory, your other hand brings up your cue stick, making a show of tapping it on his broad shoulders. “Ah, look, the ball is so far away. I think I’ll need a cue rest.”

“Using cue rests would be overkill,” Zayne retorts, propping himself onto his elbows as you pout. You’ve been teasing him all night; surely just one more push, and he’ll finally give in?

Before he can escape from your hold, you lift the cue stick off his shoulder, letting the tip slip under his tie. Zayne watches with a tight frown as you tug his tie loose. “And this is inappropriate.”

“But are you not enjoying it too?” Your leg slides out from the slit in your dress, allowing you to straddle Zayne’s thigh as your arms cage him further against the pool table. “Sir?”

His brows furrow, almost surprised at your brazenness before he looks down with a huff, and you see the smirk he’s fighting to keep at bay. “I shouldn’t have taught you so much.”

Getting revenge for before, it’s your turn to grip his jaw, brushing kisses against his beautifully hooked nose and down his jaw, leaving smears of cherry red in your wake as you purposefully neglect his waiting lips. “What can I say? I have a very attentive teacher.”

Zayne is about to say something sarcastic back, no doubt, so you roll your hips forward, cutting off his words as you’re rewarded with a groan instead. The angle allows you to grind atop the rough seams in his trousers, nearly catching against his zipper and the heavy bulge you can already feel straining underneath.

His hand shoots out, gripping your thigh as you gasp. There’s a warning look in his eyes, but he makes no move to stop you.

Encouraged, you repeat the motion, rocking forward against him as you give an exaggerated moan. Zayne quickly cuts it off with his other hand, thumb pressing against your bottom lip as he muffles your noises. You open your lips further, allowing the digit to slide against your lipstick and push against your tongue.

Zayne tsks, shaking his head.

You gently nip at his finger before beginning to suck the offending digit, flicking your tongue against the rough pad of his thumb. You watch his eyes narrow, the grip on your waist tightening. Zayne is holding himself back. Again.

You release his thumb with a pop. "Don't worry, sir, no one will hear." As if to prove your point, you stop grinding, instead bringing your hand up to cup at the bulge straining against his pants. “Besides, you’re too pretty like this. I'm the only one who gets to hear all the sounds you make.”

You smile so sweetly despite the way you torture him with every rough drag of your palm against his clothed cock. But it’s only when your smile breaks into something more genuine that Zayne feels himself flush, gazing up at you adoringly before he tries to play it off with a chuckle and a pinch at your hips.

"The things you say..." His expression changes to something unreadable, stone-cold and conflicted. The chances of losing you again are greater than he once thought. He doesn't deserve this, and he doesn't deserve you. Zayne is reminded of that every time he dares get too close.

But he can't help it. He’d eternally become a fool, a martyr, just for you.

Zayne’s jaw clenches, and a stuttered moan slips through his teeth as your hand squeezes his clothed cock. "Do you think I'm that weak to flattery?"

"No. I just think you deserve it sometimes." You smirk. "Plus, I'm not flattering you, I'm complimenting."

"And what's the difference?"

"The intent," you whisper, grinding your hips forward again.

This time, you catch him by surprise, and Zayne moans, the sound low and rough and so fucking addicting. Zayne grunts, head tilting back as he shuts his eyes, lips parting ever so slightly as more soft sighs and moans slip out, spurring you on.

You lean in, breath warm against his ear as you whisper, "What's wrong, sir? I thought you had a lesson to teach me."

Zayne’s grip tightens, and he yanks you down so your palms skid across the smooth felt of the pool table you’ve pinned him against, pulling your hips flush against his as his palm cups your ass.

“If you actually want to learn, there's another way I can teach you…” Zayne leans up on his forearms until his lips brush with yours, and right as his eyes begin to flutter closed, you shove him backward. Denying his kiss. Again.

“Sir, this seems to be highly unprofessional.”

And Zayne finally snaps.

“First you use your teacher as a cue rest, then you try to talk about professionalism?” He lets out a curt laugh, and you can practically feel his patience wearing thin. It’s terrifying, and your stomach flutters in anticipation.

“ Unprofessional ,” he spits, and your thighs clench at the growl undercutting his words. “Unprofessional, like that time you were screaming my name in the back of my car while we were still at the hospital parking lot? Or unprofessional, like that time you interrupted me during work hours, begging me to eat your cunt out in my office? Or perhaps it’s like when you decided to turn this lesson into an opportunity to tease me since you’re clearly so desperate?”

You can practically feel yourself drip at Zayne’s blunt words, each one harsh and true— your relationship with him had passed morally ethical the moment you pulled him in to kiss you instead of pushing him away months ago.

Using this moment of weakness, Zayne lifts you up, flipping the two of you around so you’re the one pinned against the pool table as he reaches for his abandoned cue stick. And he finally- finally - claims your lips with his.

Zayne always kisses like he operates, slow and methodical, as if he could spend hours learning every inch of your body, and it never fails to leave you breathless. But today, the urgency in the way he licks into your mouth is palpable, and it has you whining and clutching his suit, legs wrapping around his waist as you try to bring him closer, the oak rim of the table forcing your back into a deeper arch as you whine.

A firm hand against your hip stops your movement, pinning you down. You feel so small, caged in between his much longer legs, his superior height much too obvious. The difference in size is almost laughable as he bends down to lick deeper into your mouth. You gasp against Zayne’s lips as his other hand slides to the back of your neck, thumb rubbing circles against the column of your throat and your fluttering heartbeat underneath.

You whimper into his mouth, futilely attempting to push him away even though your hips grind insistently against his thigh. “Zayne,” his name tapers off into a moan as he kisses you again, addicted. “We can’t–” another kiss. “Anyone could walk in.” Another.

When he does give you space to breathe, a thin string of saliva connects his bottom lip to yours. He pants heavily, lips shaded a hue of cherry red from your lipstick and teeth as the corner of his mouth tugs into a frown. “Hm, I suppose that’s true. But that didn’t stop you before, did it? So I see no reason why it should stop me now.”

And you realize your fate has long since been sealed.

Zayne returns to peppering your neck with kisses, teeth nipping the soft skin at your collarbone, and you yelp as he leaves a particularly harsh bite. Your hands come up to fist into his hair, and Zayne groans against your chest.

"Do not think I have forgotten our lesson," He whispers.

"Who, me?" You bat your eyelashes. "I would never. Sir."

His gaze darkens. "Then watch closely, I’m only doing this once.”

Leaning over you, Zayne positions the cue stick against your shoulder, not unlike you did to him before. But unlike you, he forces your hips up against his thigh, watching your eyes roll back from the delicious friction of his expensive trousers. “There are two striped balls left. As punishment for your attitude during my lesson, I want you to come on my thigh before I pocket both of them.”

Dumbstruck, you can only stare up at him, stammering at his demand as you feel your pussy flutter. “I- I don’t think…”

Zayne scoffs, silencing you by roughly thumbing at your lips again. “Don’t act so shocked. You’ve been humping me like a desperate brat all evening, so go on and come like one. Come for me.”

His words are demeaning, each one cold and seemingly emotionless as he stares down at you. But you can see the truth in his eyes as he watches your every reaction, their gentle green filled with an adoration so tender it terrifies you. You feel the truth in his touch, only moving with your consent, already having memorized your body to learn the way you tick and acting upon your every whim, only pushing you just as far as you wish to be.

Zayne has never told you he loves you, but he has shown you that he does in a thousand countless ways.

And he’ll prove it to you in a thousand more.

”Unless, you want more punishment?” Zayne twists his head towards you with his next statement, and he feels the way it makes you flinch— it makes him throb at the same time. You shake your head.

You can barely form sentences when he’s deliberately tensing the muscles in his thigh, each movement in time with every needy twitch of your hips like it’s a means to emphasize his point.

“Use. Your. Words.”

“No.”

His grip tightens, fingers tensing against your neck, and you stammer back out the correction. “No, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Your heart flutters at the praise, a quiet whimper escaping you as you buck against him. Your lips are pouty from being bitten between your teeth, and you still hear muffled sobs and moans slip past your lips as you begin chasing the friction against his thigh, the upward angle punishing your clit.

Despite how much Zayne likes to front that he’s in complete control, something tells you he’s having a harder time holding back than he’ll ever admit. You think maybe the bulge in his slacks and his low moans against your ear is proof enough of that.

Zayne’s not sure which is more distracting, the sight of your pretty pussy grinding against him, only just covered by the thin silk of your dress, or the sounds falling from your mouth. The room is filled with the wet sounds of your cunt, your whimpers, and Zayne's own groans.

Pressing his forehead against yours, Zayne leans in for another kiss, the tips of your noses barely touching. But the proximity makes you slow, and he clicks his tongue, reaching above you to line up his cue stick for the next shot. But he pauses, instead fully tugging off the tie you had loosed.

"Since you were so insistent on taking my tie off earlier, here. Keep it for me." Zayne grabs both your wrists with one hand, looping his tie tightly against your skin, skillfully making a knot without ever releasing your wrists.

“Maybe this will help you behave properly,” Zayne whispers, voice low as he mouths your pulse point, a fresh surge of arousal rushing to your core as you feel his length pressing further into you.

With a broken whimper, you hook an ankle around Zayne’s back as you begin to grind harder against his thigh, moaning at the new angle. It hardly compared to the feeling of his fingers or cock fucking into you, but you barely cared, arousal and lust spurred on by Zayne’s voice.

You soon fall into a rhythm, painfully slow, the mere friction sending jolts of heat through you until you’re certain Zayne’s trousers must be stained. You nearly beg for something to hold onto, hands writhing helplessly against his tie as your sobs are muffled into your red-bitten lips.

But just as soon as the pleasure builds, you feel it plateau, hips beginning to stutter as the dull friction becomes too little, the coiling heat inside you desperate to be properly filled up by something, anything.

Zayne, on the other hand, is faring no better.

He’s thoroughly distracted with the pretty little thing desperately fucking herself against his thigh, caging you down to the table as his hands clench against the cue stick, nearly enough to make it snap.

You continue to push yourself in desperation to fulfill Zayne’s order for you to come, his continuous praises mingling with the lewd squelch of your cunt, and your eyes roll back with a cry. Zayne’s voice is intoxicating, his steady tone rough with lust sending tremors down your spine, infecting you like an aphrodisiac. You were building further and further, mounting pressure in your core dizzying, desperation for release seeping through you, mind lust-drunk as you willed yourself to fall off the peak.

But the familiar sound of the billiard balls clicks somewhere above you, followed by two distinct thuds.

A hum, and Zayne pries himself away as you whine at the loss, cold air rushing in.

You failed.

“How disappointing.” Zayne scolds as if he wasn’t the one who nearly came from your grinding instead. ”But you know what happens to students who fail to follow clear instructions, don’t you?”

Standing back, Zayne discards the cue stick entirely as one hand readjusts his trousers, and you whimper at the sight of him cupping his bulge, stroking and coaxing it against his thigh just so he can stand straight.

“Turn around and lift your dress.”

You obey, propping yourself up on shaking arms before you flip around so the rough edge of the billiard table now presses against your stomach, the felt hot beneath your bound wrists.

Zayne hums in approval, almost apathetically observing the way you squirm before he nods at you to continue. Lowering your eyes from his, you allow your leg to slip out from the slit in your dress, spreading your legs back and to the side as the silk falls off the curve of your ass, Zayne’s piercing gaze following every movement.

“Didn’t think a game of pool would turn you on this much,” he muses, leaning against the rim of the table as he crosses his arms.

Unable to meet his stare any longer, your head falls between your still tied-up hands, every inch of your body burning in shame and lust as Zayne continues to wordlessly observe you. You swear you’ll burn up with the way he fucks you with his eyes.

Still, Zayne doesn’t move.

You nearly scream against the table, eyes scrunched as you snap. “Fuck! Zayne, I swear to god, if you don’t finally fuck me I’ll do it myself or find someone else who will.”

The words barely leave your mouth when a hand fists into your hair, pulling you backward until you arch back, and you gasp, mouth falling open at the sensation. Zayne's breath is cold against the shell of your ear, the growl undercutting his words sending tremors down your spine.

"Needy little brat," his fingers curl into your hair, pulling until your jaw goes slack. Zayne's other hand finds its way back to your underwear, the material so damp that it almost feels sticky beneath his touch, and you moan at the sensation, unable to formulate a retort as your eyes flutter closed. “I think you’re forgetting this is meant to be your punishment.”

He snaps the band of your panties, and you choke, knees wobbling.

"Remember to count, or we start over.”

Placing the flat of his palm in the space between your shoulder blades, Zayne pushes you down against the billiard table, the side of your face pressed against the felt.

You hear the sharp crack of his hand meeting your ass before you feel it, the burn returning with a vengeance as you scream into the table. The sting of his palm leaves a searing heat across the curve of your ass, and you bite down on the tie binding your hands to muffle the cries that escape you.

Then you remember his order, lips quivering as you say, "One."

Another smack. This time harder. The strike is so precise it nearly sends you toppling over, the sting and ache following pushing you further against the wood. You let out a sob, eyes beginning to water as you clench around nothing, the throbbing of your cunt only worsened by Zayne's firm grip on the base of your neck.

"Two."

The third strike comes down even harder than the last, the resounding echo of his slap followed by a strangled scream from you, the heat and pain making your knees give out, forcing you to rest fully atop the pool table. “Three.”

You feel tears running down your face, undoubtedly ruining your makeup. But before you can process the fourth smack, you feel the familiar sting against your ass and the paradoxically gentle rub of Zayne's hand against the aching spot, soothing the pain as you count.

"F-Four." You shutter as you feel sheer cold bloom against your skin, his Evol numbing your ass as you whimper from the pleasure-pain.

Zayne’s thumb dips past the seam of your panties, gathering the slick that has been dripping out of you for the entire night. You feel the heat of his stare on you and the weight of his hand heavy on the small of your back, his other hand still gripping your neck with his thumb tracing soft circles against your pulse.

"So wet. Is this what you were hoping for, hm? Testing me until I finally snapped and ruined you?”

You don't dare look him in the eye. "Please, sir. I can't—"

"Can't what? Take anymore? Can't take any more punishment like the disobedient brat you are?" Zayne's voice is low, and you shiver at his words, unable to respond as the tears continue to flow, the mixture of pain and arousal leaving your vision blurred and cloudy. He spanks you again, this time hard enough to leave a mark, and you keen, legs spreading even wider in desperation.

"I can't— ah shit — please. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sir, please, just fuck me already.” you plead, voice trembling as you beg, desperate to be filled by anything other than the emptiness.

“Language.” Zayne reprimands, and the sting of his strike follows shortly after. “And you forgot to count.”

“Five! It’s f-five.” Your knees buckle with a sob, and Zayne has to hold your waist so you don't slide onto the floor, his touch paradoxically gentle compared to everything else he’s done.

“Shh, you’re far too noisy. It’s almost as though you want someone walking in to find us like this.”

Your dress is only noticeably bunched up from the back and Zayne is still fully clothed. Anyone walking by the billiard hall would just see a couple talking by the tables, but if they were to enter the room it would hardly take a brain surgeon to figure out what was happening. The realization has your walls clench around nothing.

Zayne hoists your wrists up, forcing you into a deeper arch before untying your restraints. You then watch him fist the purple silk into a ball before pushing it into your mouth, gagging you with it. “Don’t worry, this will help.”

It doesn't.

You moan against his tie, saliva pooling against the silky fabric as Zayne pushes the soaked garment deeper into your throat, his chest pressed against your bare back. You look up at him through watery eyes, sniffling, the tingling sensation of being punished in such a way overwhelming you completely. Zayne uses this opportunity to soothe you like he always does— never failing to find the perfect balance between rough and gentle.

"It's alright, I know, my little darling can’t make up her mind. I’ll help you, I’ll show you what you want." Zayne soothes, stroking your cheek with his thumb, his gaze gentle despite his steady and strict voice. Then, he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he whispers, “If anything hurts or becomes too much, tap the table twice."

You wouldn’t dare, not after finally getting what you wanted.

Zayne slips his hands under the backs of your thighs, easily lifting your weight against his chest as you whimper, the toes of your heels just barely grazing the tiled floor. The position is beyond embarrassing, ass up, face down, completely exposed and at his mercy.

He withdraws one hand, and you cry out, a garbled mess of pleas. The absence of his touch is torturous, the throbbing of your pussy and the soreness of your ass a painful reminder of the punishment you received.

The tent in his pants was tantalizingly obvious, even more pronounced once he pushed his pants down, taking out his length. He spits on his fingers, the slick sounds of him stroking himself making you whine in anticipation. It was oozing with precum, head red and flushed as he jerks himself off with sharp movements between your thighs. You grind your hips back, trying to tempt him, but all Zayne does is coo at your pitiful attempts.

"Look at you, so desperate. All that childish stubbornness just because you want my cock." He lines himself up, the head of his cock catching against your entrance as you shiver. The stretch burns, and you groan, eyes screwing shut at the feeling. "My beautiful, filthy girl."

Zayne whispers, curling an arm between your sweat-slickened bodies. You think he means to finally alleviate the needy throbbing against your clit, but instead his hand presses firmly against your lower stomach as he continues to fuck into you, torturously slow, allowing the blunt head of his cock to bully its way deeper and deeper still.

The sensation is overwhelming, the stretch of Zayne's cock combined with the sting of his earlier punishment leaves you a mess, fluttering around him as he finally bottoms out.

He lets out a long moan, a low rumble that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. You're so full, the head of his cock pressing insistently against the bundle of nerves inside you.

Some distant part of you is mortified of every lewd squelch and moan that echos over the jazz in the public hall, but feeling Zayne gently cup your ass while the other brutally pins you down, hearing him come apart against the back of your neck, knowing that your stoic lover was pushed to such extremes has you keening.

You want to feel every inch of him, so you clench down, and Zayne bites the back of your neck in retaliation, his hips stuttering.

"You’re perfect." Zayne praises, and his breathless voice sends shivers down your spine. "So good for me, taking me so well."

Zayne finally starts moving, letting the tip of his cock pull back until the head catches on the rim of your cunt, trying desperately to keep him inside, until he thrusts back into you in a single harsh motion, watching you fall apart just as he knew you would.

Your scream muffles into the gag, and Zayne reaches down to push the tie deeper into your mouth, the knot catching on the back of your tongue as he sets a steady pace.

The hand against your lower stomach shifts, still pressing hard enough so Zayne can feel his cock throb through you, and yet now positioned perfectly to thumb against your clit too. He needs to make you come, to feel it around him.

Zayne knows your body better than his own, knows exactly what angle he needs to hit, knows exactly where to touch to send your hips jerking back, and knows exactly where to tease to have you clenching down and sobbing into his tie.

It doesn't take long until you're coming, his fingers circling the bundle of nerves until you're screaming, thighs shaking, and he has to hold them open as you fall apart around him, cunt gushing as you squirt over his suit and trousers.

Your orgasm has your walls fluttering, clenching around his cock as it nearly begs for him to be buried deeper inside, and Zayne grunts, a broken moan ripped from his throat as his grip on your thigh tightens.

The pace of his thrusts grows sloppier, and you can tell he's close, the wet squelch of his cock inside your cunt driving you mad as his rhythm becomes inconsistent. You can feel his breath fan against your neck, labored and shaky, with the way he chases his high.

Your cunt aches with how full you feel, overstimulated and sensitive, but you push your hips back anyway, meeting Zayne halfway as you both chase the release that's been building up all night.

With one final thrust, Zayne finally comes inside you, a choked gasp followed by a low moan as his hips stutter, almost fucking his cum back into you as a sloppy mixture of your release drip down his cock and your thighs.

Your eyes roll back into your skull, and your second orgasm takes you by surprise, your body convulsing at the overstimulation and the warm soothing sensation of being filled to the brim.

"Fuck." Zayne whispers, his hands holding your hips as his thumbs trace circles against the dimples at the small of your back. The chill and comfort of his hands is almost enough to distract you from the ache, and you groan, legs finally giving out beneath you as you fall forward onto the pool table, the hard surface unforgiving as the wood rubs against your bruised knees.

Ever so gently, Zayne removes his tie from your mouth, turning you around so you’re pressed tight against his chest, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. You can feel his rapid heartbeat and the way his hands tremble, and you smile, the familiar tenderness of his touch calming the both of you.

He slowly runs a hand down the curve of your back and you hum against the top of his head, your own hand coming up to gently stroke his hair. “I think I love you, Zayne.”

He doesn’t say a word, instead, you feel his other arm wrap around your waist, tucking you further into his embrace.

The two of you remain like this, tangled in each other until your breathing finally evens out and the fever that inflected you begins to cool. When Zayne finally speaks, his voice is muffled against your skin, and you shiver at the mere brush of his lips. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“Hmm, not any more than I’d want to be.”

You mean it as a joke, but Zayne immediately stiffens in your hold, pulling back just enough to inspect your neck, then your wrists and hips as he kisses each bruise and remaining mark with hushed apologies.

"Did you mean it?"

You look down at him, his brows furrowed as you thumb at the stubborn crease that appears between them. You’re not sure why, but something in the way he stares up at you, waiting, longing, makes tears prick in the back of your eyes.

"Zayne," your voice is gentle, and you cup his cheek. "I do. I love you."

The tension in his jaw melts, his expression softening into something unnameable. His hand comes up to cup yours, scarred thumb tracing circles against your palm. " Say it again."

"I love you," you repeat, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. "I love you. I love you."

"Again."

"I love you, Zayne–"

The last syllable of his name is cut off by his lips against yours, and you smile into the kiss, pulling him up until his forehead finally rests on your again.

"As do I," Zayne whispers, voice thick, and the sincerity in his eyes threatens to make you cry.

And you believe him.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfiction #love and deepspace x reader #lnd zayne #lads zayne #zayne x you #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #lnds smut #l&ds smut #love and deepspace smut #lads x reader #love and deepspace zayne #fuck he has nice hands man

1K notes · View notes

absolutebl · 5 months

Text

TOP 10 BL Trends of 2023

This is just me with my analysis hat on.

1. 2023 = the year EVERYONE went outside their lanes

Everything went topsy-turvy this year in BL.

For example, Korea gave us agonized yearning and outright queerness (The 8th Sense, The New Employee) while Japan served up soft office workers and tender family (Our Dining Table).

The BL world went askew for a while, especially in the spring of 2023.

Not that we still didn’t still get Korea’s soft angsty bubbles or Japan’s “what are you doing and why does it hurt?” kink-fests. But there were quite a few BLs that made us chronic watchers sit up in confusion and wonder if Korea was dabbling in Taiwan’s territory or Japan in Thailand’s. Then they fudged the kisses and we were like... okay, back in familiar territory.

In contrast, Thailand stayed course-correcting for the damage they’ve done in the past with tropes (2022) and self referential meta criticism (2021), but also almost aggressively returned to their BL roots after last year’s series of shockers. Certainly, they are reexamining those roots, transplanting some, aerating others. But they really went back to classic Thai university and high school BL and pulps in a big way in 2023.

Taiwan is always difficult to gage because they produce so few but they seem to have stuck with what they do best with no deviation while producing more this year than they have in ages. I’m happy for that, why change a good thing? But there is a tiny part of me that really wants them to hit it out of the part with a quality piece soon. For me, We Best Love still reigns supreme, but I would really like the HIStory franchise to give us that level but longer - like a happy version of Your Name Engraved Herein. I think Taiwan has the chops to give us something as good as The 8th Sense or Old Fashion Cupcake but in their style, and I would like to see them exercise their talent for good rather than just profit.

I know, what a very odd thing for me to say. But if any BL is going to break into the mainstream American market, I genuinely think it’s most likely come from Taiwan.

Vietnam and the Philippines are falling behind, in general. They just didn’t bring out very many shows in 2023, and what the brought out tended to fub the endings. This is forgivable in Japan (because of their style and quality) but not what watchers want in the lower production value propositions. In other words, if you do a pulp, you can’t mess up the ending (by romance standards). that doesn’t look to be changing anytime soon.

2. The Office Romance Dominated

After years of Thailand serving us an endless (and slightly bland) buffet of university (and a few high school) BLs, this year Korea was basically like...

Ofiice. We like the Office. It’s cheap to film we can use grown up actors, acting (mostly) their actual age.

And yeah... it totally worked.

To be fair, Japan has always given us office live action yaoi from the beginning (they had the source material) but this year everyone else, including Thailand, seriously started playing in this setting.

3. Boys Danced with Boys

The darling @heretherebedork was a big fan of this one, and I rather like it myself. Prior to this boys dancing together was very very rare in BL, but this year we got way more than our fair share. It was lovely.

Never Let me Go

My School President

Bed Friend

The Day I Loved You

Step by Step

Be Mine Superstar

Tie the Not

Dangerous Romance

I think there were a few more. These are the ones I remembered to write down.

4. Getting (even more) Meta With Tropes

BL has been getting more and more meta over the past few years but this year they really focused in on tropes specifically. Calling out their own biggest and most favorite tropes in a massive way, especially Thailand and especially GMMTV.

Like they tunneled in on damaging tropes with Bad Buddy and the like over the past 2 years, and now they are just having fun with us.

I mean they just started the dancing trope and already they are calling it out? That’s like rapid-fire regurgitated meta there, GMMTV.

5. Cameos are the norm now

Taiwan has always loved cameos but in the past the other countries have been show and steady with only one or two a year. (Unless Japan does a parody.)

This year Korea got in on the game.

Korea rarely starts trends but they do adopt smaller and lesser known existing ones and make them super popular.

This year they did that with cameo couple appearances, even borrowing a few of Thailand’s pairs (TutorYim and MaxNat traveled north). They did it so much I stopped tracking. Love Class 2, Why R U?, and Jun & Jun were the heaviest hitters.

Taiwan, of course, came back swinging. Kiseki was the gum-ball machine of pair cameos. (In Taiwan mafia = gay.)

6. We are entering the cross pollination age

The number of remakes picked up or started this year was startling, not just countries revisiting their own content (Thailand, Japan) but countries revisiting OTHER countries stuff.

Lemme explain...

Korea has started remaking Thai content (Why R U?) alongside cameo'ing Thai pairs.

Thailand is doing Korean IP (My Dear Gagster Oppa) and has 2 Chinese ones slated for next year.

GMMTV acquired a lot of Japanese IP (Cherry Magic, Ossen, and My Love Mix Up) - and then had problems distributing it.

This is probably the most surprising trend for me. Especially the Japanese stuff. I would have thought these properties well outside of Thailand's price range (even GMMTV's) not to mention Japan’s legendary IP issues (I swear I typed this pout before the pulled TayNew’s excellent Cherry Magic).

Also why not option some of the older popular manga instead? Bet that's much cheeper. (I did see a NEW Thai translation of Finder into Thai, which is 90s yaoi, so I have my fingers crossed on that front.)

I shouldn't be too surprised.

Thailand is running out of y-novel content. Their publication industry is just not robust enough (I was just talking to a friend about this at length recently). But I didn't think they had the funds to option, especially from Japan.

Perhaps the option deals are for peanuts?

7. Korea got cheeky

I’m not sure quite how else to put this.

After finally figuring out boys can kiss, Korea started to do not just higher heat but playful higher heat, with more aggressive word play and linguistic innuendo, like they are entering their racy rom-com teenage years (Why R U? Love Class 2 and Jun & Jun in particular.)

I guess: Welcome to your BL teens, Korea?

It’s cute of them. I am very much enjoying it.

And now that comedy is warming them up, we get to see them play with actual queer burgeoning physicality in shows like The 8th Sense.

It’s nice. I like seeing Korea stretch its wings. They still stick to their bubble, but that bubble seems to be expanding.

8. The Amnesia Trope is back

And I, for one, would prefer to forget about it.

9. BL got trendy

I’m not quite sure how to articulate this category but basically we started seeing a lot of “modern” romance trends out of the west (like a/b/o) show up in our BL. Not a ton and sometimes quite small, but there has a been a steady rise of things like: no seme/uke, femme gay, out gay, condom use, messy gay.

We also got an increasing range of sub genre frameworks (like mafia, office setting) that’s moved BL pretty firmly (even in Thailand) out of school and into the workplace, whether actual working is involved or not.

It’s not to the point where it feels like we get more non-school BL than school BL (if I include all countries in this assessment).

Japan, in classic Japanese fashion, quietly started moving in the opposite direction. It’s what they do.

10. The Vampires are coming

This is an announcement trend, which I don’t usually report on but it’s so CLEAR.

So last year we had a spate of announcements of possible Omegaverse (2 from China, 1 from Japan, 1 from Thailand - the only one that’s happened).

This year we got 5 Vampire (or vampire-esk) Thai BLs announced including one from GMMTV.

Whether all 5 will actually get made is unlikely, but having had (basically) none prior to this (Kissable Lips), I’m pretty confident that we will get at least 2 of them. And I wouldn’t be surprised if at least one other country made one as well. (Side eyes Taiwan with interest.)

Final thoughts

It feels like we are also seeing a decline in BL (both by quantity and quality) from Vietnam and the Philippines. As you all know, I don’t track or really watch either of these two very closely. But it feels like, now, no one else is either.

I think we have likely seen the BL heyday already in both places and their industries are now on the decline.

We might be witnessing a thinning in the players in the BL field.

FYI we had approximately

136 BLs in 2023

Previous Years

2022: 117

2021: 95

2020: 62

2019: 40

2018: 30

2017: 44 (China’s last gasp)

2016: 27

2015: 17 (50% micro)

2014: 17 (50% micro)

And that’s it! Let me know in the comments if you’ve spotted any additional trends you want to call out.

Last year, 2022′s trend report

2021′s Trend report

Last Year’s Stats & Predictions

(source)

337 notes · View notes

roo-bastmoon · 9 months

Text

With 17 versions to buy and 8 versions combined for 160 streams per Spotify account, plus Melon and FLO streams now counting, of course Jungkook’s Seven is charting high and sweeping awards. Firstly because it’s Jungkook of course, and secondly because it’s been given every possible advantage.

My (perhaps controversial) opinions about that are below the cut.

Honestly? I really can’t feel good about any “first” or “most” or “fastest” records achieved by this single—catchy as it is—which wasn’t written or conceived by Jungkook and has nothing much personal or deeply meaningful about it. It’s a fun feel-good summer pop song, for sure, but no more groundbreaking than, say, Bad Decisions (in my opinion… I have no musical expertise.)

But I can’t feel super great about all the records and awards because this many versions immediately restocked and shipped and auto play and promoted to radio and ads and leadership hyping only this while Jungkook says he wants to be the one and only artist to conquer kpop and pop for the next thousand years… it all just doesn’t really sit right with me.

When compared to the 10 months Jimin forewent sleep, food, and showers to have a hand in every aspect of his first (and deeply personal and symbolic) album, which was never sent to radio or restocked, got split tracks and delayed playlisting and shady articles, plus not one kudos or congratulations from leadership even after he made history for South Korea and stocks soared…

Forgive me, but it all leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It is ruining the song for me.

Some things like culled streams and sales are out of the company’s control. But the things I mentioned above were all possible for Jimin’s Hot 100 #1. Even if every Tannie has total say in their projects' sales and marketing, and everyone was on board with only Jungkook getting the Hybe America "red carpet" treatment, I can’t lie and say the stark difference feels fine. It doesn't, and I confess I leave the headphones in every time Seven comes up in the playlists now.

I’m not jealous. If anything, I have a warped sense of pride that Jimin has done so fantastically well despite so many, many obstacles stacked against him. I love to champion an underdog and I’m glad I never need to doubt his success was organic. I actually feel extra admiration for how humble and hardworking he continues to be—no resting on any laurels for the It Boy. I'm so glad he is my ult-bias.

*sigh*

Listen to me.

I know Jungkook and Jimin are both genuinely good people. I know they are sincerely talented and hard working. I know they truly love each other. I know all members are legitimately happy for each others' success.

I know what’s important to me may not be important to them, nor what they want for their careers. And even if I feel their company’s making shitty decisions, I know my place as a fan.

So I trust them. And I simply hang in. I hope lessons were learned for smoother, fairer future releases. Because neglecting assets makes zero business sense, and perceived favoritism can erode the group’s bonds and tear ARMY apart. It is, frankly, just plain stupid.

So I may dislike things about their solo era rollouts and I can't bring myself to sugar-coat it; but I mostly try to keep my negative thoughts to myself and find things I CAN celebrate with other fans on an open timeline.

I never want another Tannie to feel anguished and misunderstood the way Hobi did about JitB’s physicals.

Watching Jungkook’s face here on his London live when he talks about people hating him just haunts me. It guts me. I can't stand it. That kid was going through it and I don't believe he has a malicious bone in his body, so it just really upsets me seeing him like that.

There’s so, so much about this company, this industry, this culture that I just don’t understand. But I trust Park Jimin completely. As long as Park Jimin loves and supports his members, God knows, I will too.

So!! On that note...

We have Jungkook’s birthday to celebrate next week and Taehyung’s album to support the week after that. I’m going to do my best to rest up and gather some good energy for these things!

And of course, we must congratulate our Jimin, who made history again today, and no matter what, will always set the standard. I just know he's cooking up something else for us with all these weeks of silence, and I cannot wait to go BERSERK for it whenever it drops.

I’m not really sure I had a point to this post. It’s just that I have been mulling all this over for a long time, and finally felt well enough to sit up long enough to come online and type up my thoughts.

I guess what I mostly wanted to share with my friends here is that it’s okay to feel really disappointed and even enraged at the way some things play out over the (hopefully life-long) careers of BTS members. Don't let folks gaslight you. Call it like you see it. (Maybe keep sensitive things behind a cut or in the DMs--and of course, please change your mind if you get better insight. In the end, only the Tannies really know what's going on with the Tannies.)

But while I’m still side-eyeing the company so hard right now, I’ve decided to love and support the boys as people and artists. I'm trying to believe the best in everyone. I’m still an OT7 Jikooker.

You don’t have to agree with me, and if you need to unfollow, I understand. But I figured I should just tell you guys (especially the new followers) where I am at with all this.

Love, Roo

#jimin #jikook #jungkook

240 notes · View notes

theneighborhoodwatch · 6 months

Note

going through all your ask gets me excited for the new updates but also scared??? i’m so sad bc right now we see all the neighbors being happy and just hanging out (minus wally)

it’s such a weird feeling being excited and sad for them at the same time

oh hard agree, that's like 75% of the reason i'm here. i said to someone once that i Say i'm into horror, but i usually find myself more drawn to the tragedy in horror than the horror itself? which begs the question of why i don't just read more tragedies, but i dunno - something about the way it unfolds in horror hits different. maybe it's because it feels like it's allowed to get a lot more surreal or ambiguous or just plain Ugly.

i will point out though re: wally being highlighted as an exception to the general rule of "everyone gets to hang out and be oblivious to the horror plot unfolding beyond the fabric of their reality for a bit before shit hits the fan" - while wally Is at least partially responsible for setting that horror plot into motion, if we subscribe to the belief that the audio tracks that the WHRP keeps digging up aren't actually from the past but links to the parallel reality in which the town resides, or at least that the bug videos take place in the present day, then like. you could absolutely make the argument that wally is trying to enjoy what he's got while he still has it, he is just sometimes - understandably - Literally Too Stressed To Function, even if he may or may not have the ability to articulate that. there's potential there i think. to have a character experience something similar to the fear and anticipation mixed with genuine fondness that we do. such an endearing bundle of moral conundrums, that wally is.

it's all in service of making the horrors hit harder when they finally come in full force, y'know. something something darkness cannot exist without light or whateva.

#anonymous #ask #welcome home #wh speculation #kinda. more musing than actual theorizing

34 notes · View notes

starleska · 1 year

Note

I just saw on YouTube that MatPat has made a GTLive about Welcome Home.

I’m honestly conflicted. On the one hand, I am genuinely happy that a big YouTuber like MatPat has noticed Welcome Home, as I do love his theories on occasion.

But I’m also worried. After everything Clown has been through with the sudden rush of a massive following, and also me knowing how MatPat’s very large fan base can be VERY zealous, I’m genuinely worried for Clown. I know they’re going through a lot and are currently on a well deserved hiatus, but I do have the sudden thought that the prospect of MatPat’s fan base getting too zealous may end up doing harm in the long term for them. They have done that before on other things.

And that’s not even getting into MatPat potentially making a theory video about Welcome Home when the project hasn’t yet left the Prologue Stage of its story, which may end up again doing harm.

I wonder what your opinion on all of this may be. What do you think of MatPat covering this potentially as a theory and do you worry about his fan base becoming zealous for Welcome Home?

hello sweetheart! thank you so much for sending in this ask, and for putting your thoughts down in such a respectful manner - very well articulated 💖 i'm going to pop my response under a read more, as i feel it deserves a good chunk of text for a reply.

and if you're a new Welcome Home fan - welcome to the fandom! 🥰 here's a simple guide i wrote which explains what Welcome Home is, where the story is taking place, and how you can support the creator.

okay, here we go! ✨

first of all, i understand why you're concerned. this explosive growth has been tough for Clown - and having caught the edge of the tidal wave of attention just for Welcome Home fanworks, i don't blame them for being so stressed! no one could've predicted Welcome Home would blow up so much, although it is a testament to Clown's artistic talent and skill 🔥

here's the thing: fandom isn't something you can control. i feel that even though this concern comes from a good place, we may be sliding a little too close to gatekeeping territory, and that isn't fair. i totally get what you're saying about the overzealous part, but i don't believe there's anything inherent about being a fan of MatPat's content which would cause someone to behave in a disrespectful, boundary-overstepping manner. let's be clear: we are not inherently more deserving of enjoying Welcome Home just because we discovered it earlier, or any other trait that would separate the earlier fandom from a new influx of fans from MatPat.

again, i sympathise with your perspective. i was an old MatPat fan myself: a real creepypasta-obsessed teen who discovered all sorts of cool fandoms through him and other channels! but i don't think Welcome Home being covered by MatPat means there's a higher risk of harm, or that those fans in particular are more likely to exhibit inappropriate behaviour. i worry about fandoms which, when trying to make sure everyone is being respectful, end up creating an us vs. them mentality...and there's nothing i dislike more than fans who believe they're more entitled to enjoy media more for artificial reasons, like if they discovered it earlier, or know more about the property, or engage in fandom the 'correct' way (whatever that means) 😕

i think that just because Clown is (very understandably!) stressed and needs time to adjust, doesn't mean we should try and halt the popularity of Welcome Home - which would be both unfair and impossible. there's no criteria for whether or not someone can be a fan - all that is to be expected is that they are respectful and kind. we should continue as always: being respectful, and echoing Clown's wishes. i think we should welcome all these new fans and show them a great time! and if a fan does do something harmful, we shouldn't attack them; instead, we should let them know why that's not okay, and not assume everyone is out to do harm. ignorance isn't always out of malice, and many of us discussing this issue have the luxury of being older, and having had our younger years in fandom under much less scrutiny. perhaps there's this lingering anxiety due to the claims of fans doxxing/hacking, which Clown has since debunked as being odd fandom rumours.

ultimately, Clown put Welcome Home out into the world for other people to enjoy. MatPat is allowed to make theories on Welcome Home, and his fans are allowed to enjoy it too. this is the same as an unknown video game being covered by Markiplier, or a similar property being picked up by the nerdcore music community. yes, it's likely MatPat's fans may be on the younger side, and perhaps inexperienced with fandom etiquette or boundaries. however, this is a generalisation! i feel perhaps this anxiety with new fans coming in has something to do with our own overzealousness, and how in the early days we began making fanworks/interacting with Clown's content in ways which he's since stated he's not comfortable with 💖

at the end of the day: whether we're 13 or 55; whether we compile large documents full of information about the Welcome Home story or write gushing posts about how cute Wally Darling is; whether we've known Clown's work for years or are just discovering it today - we're all fans, and we all deserve to be here. being zealous is what fandom is all about! the best thing we can do is just keep on putting out positive energy, and encouraging all of that lovely, budding excitement. let's keep helping new fans learn about the amazing story of Welcome Home, and making them feel welcome too 🥰

#i hope this answers your question anon!! 💖#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home discussion #starleskatalks #starleskasks

121 notes · View notes

pommunist · 2 months

Note

I don't wanna say this under my own name because I'm friends with too many Quackity fans, but god, everything about his actions just makes me think that what he cares about is just avoiding legal trouble and protecting his own public image

And maybe also about his friends to be fair

(I mean to his credit, I don't think he cares about money either)

He says he's doing all this for the viewers, but I guess that doesn't include the viewers who care about the French streamers or the French characters

And I don't see any hint of him genuinely caring about the workers. This is not how you treat someone you care about. He keeps implying that he can't talk to anyone because of "leaks" but what the fuck could be so bad about the "leaks" that it justifies this kind of disrespect? Why is this secrecy more important than the needs of the workers?

Nobody's asking him to reveal his biggest secrets to the workers, everyone is just asking for him to TALK to them at least, and hearing them out

He also says he can't talk because he doesn't want to make false promises, then just say that! Again, nobody asked him to promise them a job in the future, we just want him to be honest and respectful! Just tell them directly that you don't know yet and listen to their thoughts on the situation! Ask them how you can alleviate the inconvenience if it's within your means! Just talk to them like they're fellow adults who are capable of having a reasonable conversation! Because they are!

The union mentioned that some of the workers had basically been told by management that they should be grateful to be allowed to work for Quackity Studios and ngl, I wonder if this is not only the view of higher management but of Quackity himself too. That's the question I keep asking myself and not daring to say out loud: does he see the lower level workers as just fans who should be happy they were even allowed to participate at all?

- 🐧

First I never mind anonymous asks so no problem dont worry !

Second I tbh don’t want to assume what Q true intentions really are because heavy speculation isn’t productive and can lead to more stress in general. However I think that we can agree that he isn’t doing it all for the money, given that we’ve always known QSMP was never and problably even supposed to be a profitable thing (just the hosting and translation costs alone point to this).

That said, I do agree that everything that has been done up to this point and since Lea started to reveal things seems to be more damage control and trying to avoid legal issues than actually trying to be fair to the workers. This isn’t even speculation if you consider the sudden firing of Twitter admins and the silent towards all the other admins.

Obviously, when you’re a company or an individual you wanna avoid a lawsuit at all cost. It is a logical business move, morally I don’t agree with that mindset ofc, and I also feel like it’s a misunderstanding of the intentions of most of the admins.

I don’t know any of them personally but none of them, so far, have publicly said they wanted to take the legal route or even sue Qstudios. In fact, most if not all of them have expressed their love of the project and wished for it to continue with better working conditions. Some admins also said they didn’t care about getting paid, that volunteer work was fine if they had done it without the stress and pressure. Side note if it ever comes out that some admins want to take the legal route to make their rights be recognised and be compensated then my full support to them.

As if he is doing all this for preserving his image (i say IF) then what a terrible job he’s doing. I hope I’m making very clear that QSMP and Q’s image with french speakers fans (and non fans, and other French Ccs) is in literal ruins.

Also I feel like there was a genuine wish to add different cultures, I’m talking specifically about the French and BRs here, but an underestimating of the work it takes to actually merge people from different backgrounds and that it goes beyond just putting CCs from all over the world on minecraft with a translator. The fact that there was no FR, PT or KR speaking upper admin at all in the team baffles me to this day.

Worst thing is that we probably only know like a fraction of the overwork, miscommunication and intimidation that went on behind the scenes. Heart aches for all of those who went through it. All the love to them ♥️

#qsmp discourse #quackity crit

20 notes · View notes

reallypleasanttree · 2 months

Note

Hey there I’m a huge fan of your works and stories ☺️💯. And I was wondering, what inspired you to write such a beautiful,tragic, and heartwarming story about Kanroji and Obanai?

First off, thank you so much! ☺️ I adore tragic romances, so when I finished reading Demon Slayer I was torn to shreds by Obanai and Mitsuri’s story. Their type of love is my ideal where they simply accept each other as they are. It’s simple and sweet.

They were stripped of their happy ending. If they just had the courage to express their feelings before the end, they could have been happy together. It hurt so much. Especially with the way Obanai viewed Mitsuri and believing he needed to be reborn just to be with her? Heartbreaking. Mitsuri would have loved him no matter what his upbringing was. They both viewed each other in a positive light, but the way they viewed themselves was negative. Obanai thought he was a corrupt, vile creature while Mitsuri was insecure and wanted acceptance. If they had been able to see themselves the way the other viewed them, they could have confessed before the final battle. It devastates me every time and I have to remedy it.

Anyway, I read a ton of fanfics for Obamitsu. “Nights” by Rottorex, Peppermint Tea” by prettyshimmie, and “to die nobly, to cleanse his filthy blood” by Clemsmelody helped inspire it. I started daydreaming and plotting out my own fic.

After a few days of thinking through plot points, I decided to go for it. “Wedding Plans” was supposed to be three chapters. 🙃 however, I kept writing more and more about Obanai’s backstory and deep dived into his psychology. I couldn’t just make him suddenly be better in two months and not explain how he got better. I wanted to show a realistic recovery for someone with depression, anxiety, and childhood abuse. It doesn't happen over night and it takes a lot of effort.

As someone with depression and anxiety, I drew from my own experiences. The part where Obanai didn’t know how to tie his shoes? My parents never taught me, so I taught myself. When you realize your parents didn’t teach you the bare minimum to dress yourself, it hits you like a brick. You explain away their actions and accept it as the norm because that’s what was expected of you.

With Mitsuri, I admire her personality. I love people who are exceptionally kind, always wear a smile, and genuinely care about you as person, not just for show. She’s a normal girl with insecurities and wishes to be accepted. Everyone can relate, I’m sure. Also, I love writing her awkward moments. I wanted to show a relationship gradually develop from a place of admiration and respect. Also, it was fun coming up with different scenarios and how to apply their past lives to the modern era.

To be honest, the parts I write in the Demon Slayer canon universe are primarily inspired by fan art. I wanted to highlight little actions and moments that lead to Mitsuri and Obanai falling for each other. I’m so excited to share the next flashback scene, but I don’t want to spoil it.

When it comes to writing, I love angst, but I have to even it out with lighthearted moments. Like Mitsuri making Obanai food for the first time and then he has a panic attack. My partner calls it "dark cotton candy fluff", which cracks me up. Plus with the cast of characters in Demon Slayer, it makes it easy to keep it heart warming. Kyojuro and Gyomei especially. 🥰

To sum it up, I was inspired to write Obanai and Mitsuri’s story in the modern era because I wanted to explore the beginnings of a relationship, Obanai’s past and family, and ultimately give them the happy ending they deserved.

As for my other Obamitsu fics, I write them on a whim and let my steam of conscious take over ("To my love", "Positive, Positive, Positive", "I want to live this life with you", and "Mrs. Iguro") Or they are discarded scenes from "Wedding Plans" (See "Bitter Torment").

#obamitsu #obanai iguro #mitsuri kanroji #demon slayer #mitsuri x obanai #obanai x mitsuri #writing asks

17 notes · View notes

inchidentally · 6 months

Note

I am new to the Landoscar fandom but I adore their chemistry and the fics. I saw your post about how you’re a part of the fandom that actively protects the girls in their rl which is awesome because I didn’t even know what the Carlando fans had done. I’m so happy to hear this fandom seems a bit more mature than that. How can I join? I’d like to make like minded friends 😊

yes!! we love and support Lily here and the line between shipping landoscar as a couple vs as their real life relationship is extremely clear. a similar ship is George and Alex where both Lily and Carmen are beloved by the people who ship galex. it's so easy to not hate women, adore the two guys' real life friendship, and then ship them romantically for fun in non-public spaces. so so easy.

the larrying of car|ando breaks my heart a little bc that was my first F1 rpf ship and I also love their real life friendship - genuinely the Singapore race meant way more to me emotionally for Carlos having always been big protective brother to Lando than needing to put on ship goggles. no one rly knows why car|ando is the one that people have decided is "legit" esp when Daniel and Lando straight up did the gay baiting stuff and Max V is the only driver that Lando actively has an off-season engagement with (as well as a longer driver relationship than Carlos or Daniel). but there's no reasoning w people who use vile rampant misogyny against real life girlfriends as if that will someone make two guy friends suddenly get married or whatever.

but I will say that a lot of us who still ship car|ando aren't in the larry crowd and can distinguish reality from fiction so don't be too spooked off them <3

honestly as a relatively new blog myself I can tell you that everyone in landoscar fandom is extremely kind and welcoming! my walls of text have got to get tedious at times but if anyone's annoyed then they don't say and just scroll on by!

but a heads up that tumblr is a very tricky place for keeping up with people and content by the tags and dash alone so I would make sure to tag your posts very well and also just start sending in some asks to blogs! personally I try to systematically check mutuals blogs bc tumblr sometimes shoves a person's posts wayyyy down.

and this is a personal preference and I'm not sure if you're a fic writer but it's such a huge help with fic posts if there's a banner or even just a pic bc for some reason those show up on my dash more than text post only fic.

#inchreplies #landoscar

24 notes · View notes

supernovaa-remnant · 3 months

Note

I heard about this Shubble person recently, I stayed out of drama as much as I could but, what happened now??? You even wrote this in one of your tags "#I really did love him a lot (parasocially)". I was busy this week so I don't know what is happening now.

I highly recommend people watch Shubble’s vod on her twitch channel (I don’t have a link but I can’t imagine it’s that difficult to find). Be mindful though as the vod does talk about abuse which is a very triggering topic, so make sure to be taking care of yourself. I’m gonna put the rest of the post under the cut, so people can easily scroll past this if they want to.

As a little summary, Shubble streamed yesterday and talked about her abusive ex. She didn’t name anyone, but she also wasn’t hiding who it was, and contrary to what some people may say, a lot of the dots being connected are stuff we know from past streams and comments from friends and not leaked info.

So, the incredibly most likely case is that it was Wilbur. I’m not gonna get into everything Shelby said because she said it on her stream, but the signs do point to Wilbur, and you’d have to reach significantly further to claim she was talking about someone else. There’s not a lot of British male ccs who have a bigger audience than her who have a history of biting people and have reason to be going on long travels (tour) where they wouldn’t see each other often.

Listen. I was a certified dreambur blog, okay? Everyone who glanced in my direction knew that I was a Wilbur fan. Everyone knows that I loved him so fucking much. But that’s not an excuse to bury my head in the sand and ignore everything, y’know?

Anyway, this is gonna be the last time I talk abt this publicly (I’m sure my friends will hear more in DMs though sorry <3), so I’m gonna throw a bit more stuff here abt my blog going forward.

I will eventually talk abt c!wilbur again. I’m still gonna write my silly little c!dreambur aus, I’ve just put them on the back burner. regardless of cc actions, I genuinely do love so many of the characters on the dsmp. I’ll probably be focused on some other fics for a while, but c!wilbur’s my cat and I don’t think he’s leaving my brain soon. I just need a little time.

I think cc!wilbur is someone who needs help. and I genuinely do hope he gets that help. but having mental health struggles isn’t an excuse. and I just can’t see myself engaging in his content in the foreseeable future. you’re not gonna see me post neg about him. you’re just likely not gonna see me post anything about him at all.

I’m happy to know Shubble has an amazing support system. I’m so sorry she had to go through something so horrible. I’m wishing her nothing but the best, and everyone should check out her YouTube channel!! I haven’t watched her newest video yet, but I did watch Lizzie’s pov of the collab, so I know it’s a fun concept

If people have questions that this post doesn’t answer, then I’m happy to answer them in DMs, but I don’t wanna talk abt this publicly anymore. (I reserve a right to change my mind though if I for some reason feel the need to post abt it again)

Anyway, take care of yourselves. Love is never ever wasted, okay? And all that love belongs to you. And it’s always a good thing to put more love out into the world. Never feel guilty for loving, okay? 🫂

#tw abuse #stella answers #thenaiads

14 notes · View notes

notquitecharlie · 10 months

Text

My family’s reaction to Good Omens Season 2

I just finished watching Good Omens Season 2…I’m still crying so I’m not gonna talk about my reaction to it (likely same as any sane fan…a lot of tears) but I’m…I really need to talk about my family’s reaction, because it genuinely hurts…a lot it hurts.

Basically I’ve watched the whole season with my Mom, my brother (13), my sister (9), my brother (8) and obviously me (16 and closeted lesbian) and I’ve always found Aziraphale and Crowleys relationship to be obvious…and kinda assumed that even if my family wouldn’t say it that they did too, turns out they didn’t and are pissed.

When it got to the part of Maggie and Nina talking to Crowley my siblings and mom were all shouting variations of “They better not make Crowley and Aziraphale gay, that’s disgusting and we’ll never watch Good Omens again” (yes…actually). So when it came to the kiss they were all yelling and outraged and saying stuff, I don’t want to repeat the worst of it because it hurts, it hurts to hear my family be so vocally outraged against who I am, it really does. I love good omens, I love that Aziraphale and Crowley finally had their moment the only thing I don’t love is the things that people (ie my family) seem to think is okay to say about gay people…what the actual fuck. The rest of this night has been everyone misinterpreting my tears, thinking I’m upset that Aziraphale and Crowley kissed (“I’m so sorry the ruined your favorite show”) and asking me why I’m not more angry. Here’s some direct quotes from my family.

“The Book was written in what they 80’s gay wasn’t even a thing back then, were they kissing in the book?”

“Neil Gaiman caved to Hollywood”

“They already had nasty lesbians on it, why do they need so many gay people?”

“Neil Gaiman literally just spit on and pooped on Terry Pratchetts grave.”

“This woke shit fucks everything up”

“Aren’t you embarrassed you were telling so many people to watch the show? You won’t make that mistake again will you [laughter]”

“What are you going to do with all your good omens stuff? (5 shirts, 2 funkos, a sweatshirt, a necklace, and like 3 copies of the book) Maybe some gay people would want to buy it from you.”

“They don’t deserve a third season”

“I’m never watching it again”

“Didn’t this ruin the book for you?”

There’s a lot more but I’m still crying, and I…yeah. I love good omens, I love openly loving good omens and I don’t blame the show I’m so happy to have it, it just hurts so bad to have your family say that stuff indirectly to you (you’d be shocked at the slurs 8 years old know), good omens brings me so much joy, even with the ending of the second season, I don’t know. I’m sorry I just I love Neil Gaiman, I love good omens, how can someone think of something so wonderful something that they loved mere minutes before as horrible and gross because two people spelled out the fact that they were in love?

Good Omens has been an escape for me for a long time, in the book no one is who the world decides them to be and that’s always how I’ve felt. I love the show and as much as the ending wounds me, I loved season 2. I just wish I’d watched it by myself, and that I hadn’t been so stupid.

#neil gaiman #good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens 2 #go2 #go2 spoilers #good omens season 2 #Homophobia

22 notes · View notes

cuteglamegirl · 2 years

Text

Vogue Part 2

Part 1 below

a/n Here is finally part 2 to this series. Part 3 will be up very shortly. I just need to figure out exactly where I want this story to go. If you have any suggestions or requests let me know. I an trying to build some suspense between the characters that is why I will be dividing this story into many parts. Trust me it will be worth it! I hope you enjoy!

Summary : you work at Vogue and Harry happens to be just as big of a fan of you as you are of him.

He looked at you completely shocked. “What are you doing after this?”

His straightforward question caught you by surprise and You laughed to yourself. “Well that depends on how the interview goes and then we will see” You say smirking

“I think it has a great fucking start, you just named my favorite books. I would actually love to take you out after this, what people read says so much about them in my opinion” he said genuinely looking at you which made you feel like you are the only girl in the world. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you that way.

“How about we start with the interview Harry?” You said, not reacting to his comment because you have to get your work done and you need to keep him hanging a little, just for fun. Girls that are hard to get are always more fun.

“Of course love, let’s start” he said smiling with his dimples popping out.

“Firstly I must say that your two albums are big favorites of mine. I love the mixture of all kinds of music genres you used. Do you have any musicians or specific songs that you took inspiration from?”

“Well.. I grew up listening to everything, I love music from the 60s, 70s like.. I am a huge fan of Bowie, Prince, Freddie Mercury, Mick Jagger, the classics. I also love the Beatles and Fleetwood Mac. I am actually very good friends with Stevie Nicks and she definitely inspires me daily.” He says slowly with a deep voice.

“I can actually hear that in your music, I hear some Prince in the Sign of the times. These are incredible people to be inspired by. Do you have any specific songs you prefer from your albums?

“I would have to say Kiwi from my first album becuase performing it is probably my favorite part of touring. I will play it even 3 times at the end of concerts because the atmosphere in the stadium when this song plays is indescribable. I also love Cherry, from my second album because it has a deep meaning for me and I get quite emotional when performing it.”

“Like you cry in a cool way right?” you said showing an obvious smirk

“Ohh, I see someone has watched my videos” he said smiling a big genuine smile showing his perfect teeth

“Well I had to do a background check, I do it before all of my interviews so don’t flatter yourself too much” you said teasingly.

You continued “Well everyone knows that you have extreme success in the music industry but you have taken up acting as well. The new Eternals movie just came out a couple months ago, how does it feel to be a part of Marvel?”

“It was a huge shock for me at first, I think everyone grew up reading or watching Marvel and to be asked to be a part of it was such an honor, even if I was just in the post credit scenes so far.”

“You also have two new movies coming out this year, how has it been filming them and how is it different from being a performer?”

“Well, I have had a great time filming, it is obviously so different than what I am used to but I like it in the sense that it is not as personal, it actually isn’t personal at all, I don’t have to put myself out there like I usually do through music. It is do different and I thoroughly enjoy it. Especially filming my policeman because I read the book and I absolutely loved the story. I am very lucky to be apart of such an amazing storyline. I am assuming you read the book as well, considering your exquisite taste” he said biting his lip looking at you.

“I have actually and they did an amazing job casting you, I couldn’t picture anyone else playing the part. We have only seen your acting once before, in Dunkirk, which was fantastic, the movie had an incredible cast and showed the events taken place in Dunkirk in a completely different light. How did you get into acting in the first place?

“I like to challenge myself and do something different and movies are definitely where I feel most out of my comfort zone. I’m coming from music where I don’t think anyone really knows how it works, but I am somewhat in my comfort zone. It started as a challenge and now I feel amazing doing it. he said still looking deeply into your eyes.

Those damn green eyes, you said to myself, and that beautiful contagious smile. He really is something.

The interview went on for another hour and a half. You talked about everything possible. His fashion choices, what they mean to him. How he has changed throughout the 12 years. You talked about One direction, Zayn, who he is still in contact with. What he does in his free time. His childhood and how dealing with grief has affected his music. You ended up talking about things you knew wasn’t going to be put in the interview, it was just so refreshing to have a real conversation with him.

After the hour you ended the interview with one last question.

“This has been really insightful Harry, we have arrived to the end of the interview and I have one last question for you. Is there ever going to be a One Direction reunion?” You said laughing because honestly that is the only thing anyone cares about

He laughed as well saying “ Well, maybe one day. I can’t make any promises but I do miss my boys. I just think all of us are in different places, doing different things that make each of us really happy and I’m really proud of them. I think we have all accomplished so much on our own.”

You wanted to cry a little but kept your shit together because you are a professional. You grew up listening to One Direction so hearing what he just said meant a lot.

“That was great, thank you so much” you said looking at him with a sweet smile

“So tell me Y/N, did I make a good impression? Can I take you out?” He said smiling. It felt like the only thing you did during this interview was smile at each other.

“I have to say, this was actually great, I think this article will make your fans very happy. I do have some time but I have to go to a party at 9” you said looking down at your watch realizing it it already 5 o’clock.

“A party? On a Tuesday ? That seems pretty wild” he said with his eyebrows raised

“It’s my friends birthday and I don’t drink as much anymore. I had my fun when I was younger but I am way more responsible now” you said honestly, knowing you will probably have a couple glasses of wine and leave sober.. or just a little tipsy.

You ended up leaving the room, where the interview took place. You talked the whole way down and he excused himself to let everyone know he will be leaving now. Saying goodbye to every person in the building, thanking everyone for their time and hard work. He then told you he just has to find his manager, Jeff, to let him know he is leaving and that he will meet you outside.

You said goodbye to your friend Vanessa and told her you will call her later because she wanted to know all the details. You stepped outside to light a cigarette. You kept thinking to yourself how smooth that interview went, you couldn’t wait to form it into words that will be entertaining to read and create a piece that will inspire and that his fans will love. As you were thinking to yourself Harry walks out.

“I am assuming that vintage mustang is yours, am I right?” He said looking at your sick ass car.

“You definitely are. Has been my baby for 2 years now. I’m assuming the vintage Mercedes is yours, considering we both have good taste in books and clothing.”

“Yes it is, love. I adore old cars, they suit me better. How about we take your car and I will have Jeff drive mine back to my place. I haven’t been in a mustang for months, I miss it.”

“Sounds perfect, let me just finish my cigarette and we can get going” you said taking another drag.

“I didn’t realize you smoke” he said looking at you so neutrally, you couldn’t tell if he was disgusted or wanted one too.

“Oh yeah, it’s a filthy habit I can’t seem to shake off. I think I romanticize it too much in my head. If it bothers you I can put it out.” You said, genuinely concerned if it bothers him, because you don’t like to smoke in front of people who hate the smell.

“No, I actually quite like the smell. My ex-girlfriend used to smoke so i got used to it and I grew quite fond of it.” He said with a hint of sadness in his voice.

“Yeah I have it the same. I started to smoke with my ex and while he left, the bad habit stayed.” You said, realizing you are getting way to personal with him and knew you had the change the subject fast.

“So anywayy, where would you like to go. I am honestly starving, plus it would be a good idea to get some food in me before going out drinking” you said trying to convert the conversation into something else.

“Of course, love, where would you like to go?” He said putting his hand on your lower back.

“How about you surprise me” you said while putting your cigarette out and handing him your car keys.

You continued. “Let’s see how well you are with old cars.” You said biting your lip, showing him to your car.

“A girl that will let me choose where to eat and let me drive her car. You definitely are a special one.” He said with a smile showing his evident excitement.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fake social media #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #Harry styles Vogue #Harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles au

119 notes · View notes