Hi babes! This is a marshmallow-soft story about the reader and Tom having a special inside joke. That inside joke being Tom dramatically falling down onto one knee to tease her after she accidentally tells him that it’s always been how she wants to get proposed to. The inside joke makes the both of them think a lot about their future and cuteness ensues! I hope that you like it!
Side note: The film was everything I wanted it to be and more? It owns my entire heart? The cast did so well and I’m so happy for all of them and my heart is just overflowing with love and I’m going to see the film again tomorrow!
I’m On My Knee
“He makes me want to wear a white dress and walk down the aisle.” She murmured to her boyfriend, utterly and completely inebriated. “I want to learn how to cook so he can always come home to a hot meal. He makes me want to learn more so that I’ll always have new things to talk to him about, and he makes me want to take care of myself so that I can look good for him. I wanna read every book on the planet earth and watch every film, just so I have stories to tell him before we go to sleep. But, mostly, he makes me wanna wear a white dress and walk down the aisle.”
Tom smiled, securing a strong arm around her waist before she had the opportunity to slip from the barstool she was trying to twirl on. Holding her still, he questioned, “anything else you want, darling?”
Lurching forward, she twined her arms around his neck and moved to perch on his knee. She shoved her face into Tom’s neck and breathed in deeply, dragging her hands across the expanse of her boyfriend’s chest. He smelled of french cologne, the fabric of his shirt felt soft beneath her cheek, and she was so close to him that she could count the beats of his heart. “I love you.”
Supporting her frame, Tom kissed the top of her head, “I love you more.” She sighed into his chest and Tom helped her to her feet, making sure that he still had her locked in his arms. “Let’s get you home now, drunky.”
“I want him on his knee like in the old films,” she added before she allowed Tom to guide her to their parked car.
Truly, Tom felt the same way about her, but there was no way that he wouldn’t tease her about her intoxicated confession every chance he got. He’d been dreaming about how beautiful she’d look walking down the aisle to meet him since their third date and it comforted him that she seemed to feel the same way.
She knew that she had majorly screwed up the next morning when Tom dropped down onto one knee, offering her a bottle of advil and a glass of water to soothe the pounding in her head that refused to be ignored.
“On my knee, baby, just how you wanted!” Tom smiled, his curls flopping down in his eyes in the most endearing of ways. She hated that he looked so cute while he was so successfully embarrassing her.
Groaning, she brought her hands up to cover her face, “Tom, stop! I told you that I was just drunk. Let it go!” She pleaded, blush spreading as far as the tips of her ears.
Her boyfriend feigned hurt feelings, “well, if you were truly joking, guess I’m out of here. Gotta go get me a girl who’s in it for the long haul.” Tom joked as he moved to walk out the door.
“Tom,” she whined before rushing forward to keep him in place with a hug. “Stop being so dumb and help me make pancakes. You flip them better than I do.”
Smiling down at her, Tom took of her hands within his own and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, “One day, I’ll be way more than just your boyfriend who flips pancakes better than you do. One day, I’ll be your husband who flips pancakes better than you do.” Tom laughed, picking her up to spin her around the kitchen.
She was happy that Tom was focused on not dropping her or running into anything because she was even pinker than she’d thought previously possible and she was positive that the smile on her face was so huge that her face would crack into halves. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have the greatest job, it didn’t matter that she was absolute shit at math, in fact, she couldn’t think of anything that mattered to her more than what Tom had just said. He was planning on a future with her and she was so elated that she spent the entire rest of her week floating from place to place on a bed made of cotton candy clouds.
The next time Tom dropped to one knee for her, it was in the flower shop while she was sifting through bins of tulip bouquets for their friend’s dinner party. “Because I love you,” Tom said, holding out a bundle of daisies.
Rolling her eyes, she took the flowers and bent forward to kiss Tom tenderly on the mouth. “Because I love you,” she repeated back to him before taking both bouquets to the register while Tom struggled to free his wallet before she could pay for her daisies.
The time after that, Tom fell to one knee when she had come home with smudged mascara and tears dripping from the corners of her eyes. Hurrying off the couch, he dropped to one knee in front of her, pulling her to perch softly onto his popped knee. “What’s the matter darling?”
Shrugging her shoulders, her lower lip trembled and she merely hid her face in Tom’s neck. Stroking her hair and mumbling the words to ‘Moon River’ into her ears, Tom waited for her to tell him what was upsetting her. He did his best to search his mind for anything he could’ve done, anything her friend’s could’ve done, anything at home that could have upset her and came back with nothing. Tom briefly had a fleeting feeling that he was failing as her husband until it clicked in his brain that he hadn’t ever gotten down on one knee before her to present her with an actual ring.
That night, while she snuggled into the crook of his arm, her face hidden so close to his neck that Tom could feel her lips press into his skin, he looked up some photos of rings. Each time Tom found a particularly nice ring, he’d zoom in and envision it on her lovely hands. Looking down at her hand that was loosely curled around his waist, he murmured to her sleeping form, “nobody, not even the rain,has such small hands.” His girl had been on an E.E. Cummings kick and clearly the poetry she read aloud to him had rubbed off on Tom.
Placing his phone back into it’s charging station on their nightable, Tom laid down and made sure to lace his fingers through her own before he shut eyes to sleep, agreeing with E. E. Cummings that nobody had such small hands. Such small hands that a glittering ring would only compliment.
The next weekend, as she and Tom strolled through the supermarket to grab some fresh vegetables and fruit, and maybe a loaf of bread to go along with dinner, Tom spotted the baked goods aisle. Getting completely sidetracked, Tom stood staring at the pastries while she carried on in search of the produce section. Glancing at her retreating figure and then back at the deserts, Tom grabbed an armful of cookies, cinnamon rolls and cupcakes before hurrying after her.
Her eyes widened when she saw her boyfriend nearly skipping towards her, arms overflowing with pastries. “Tom,” she started, cocking her hip and raising her brows, “that is ridiculous. Pick one thing, we already have too many snacks as it is!”
“No, no, darling, you don’t get it. We’d leave the cinnamon rolls for breakfast, and we could eat the cookies as a snack, and then the cupcakes could be after dinner.” Tom tried to ration.
“Tom, I’ll eat them all and then get bigger and you know I’m trying to look good this summer!” She whined, shaking her head and silently pleading for Tom to at least put one of the items he was holding back.
Shuffling the food around in his arms, Tom attempted to clutch all the food with only one hand. Gently moving her hair away from her eyes, Tom kissed her temple. “Darling, you know that you’re perfect. There’s nothing wrong with how you look, and nothing would be wrong with how you look even if you decided to inhale the entire pastry department on your own. I love the way you think, how kind you are to others, and you’re one of the smartest and least arrogant people that I know! I love you for your heart, and your brain. I thank the universe every night for your lungs and your kidneys, because they make you. You’re sweet-ass body just happens a perk of loving you.”
Tom kissed her one last time before dropping down onto one knee before her, “c’mon angel, please?” He asked one last time.
Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend’s cheesiness, she placed the cupcakes and the cinnamon rolls in her basket before leading Tom over to the fruit and asking him to pick out the crunchiest apples for their salad.
When Tom fell to one knee again, it was after she had gone shopping with her friends and was currently modeling her new purchases at his request. She had exited the bathroom in which she was changing in, wearing an extremely short, white dress that left very little, if anything to Tom’s imagination. The dress was littered with small, red roses and had straps that were tied into a bow. As she twirled for him, Tom could see that the straps were the only thing holding her new dress together and by the time that she’d stopped her spinning, Tom was on one knee.
“Should I take this off myself or do you wanna get up off the floor and help me?” She giggled, toying with the bow sitting atop her shoulder blade.
As Tom carefully untied her dress and watched it fall to the ground, he muttered, “pretty ring would go nice with the roses.”
She could barely hear what Tom had said, let alone comprehend it, as he began to pepper her exposed body with warm kisses. Stuttering out an barely audible, “uh-huh,” as Tom mouthed over the sensitive spot she had just beneath her ear.
As time went on, “I’m on my knee,” became a phrase that she would hear from Tom almost as frequently as he said “I love you.” He’d drop to his knee in public, private, essentially everywhere they went. She was nearly convinced that Tom on his knee wouldn’t ever mean anything other than their inside joke, but little did she know how Tom feeling.
Each time he dropped down onto one knee before her, it always made him long to obtain a ring to present her with. Considering that he was on his knee for her essentially everyday now, so much so that even the press was completely desensitized to photos of Tom on his knee before his girl, he was legitimately out and about looking for rings.
He’d recruited his mother to assist with the search, begged Harrison, Jacob, his brothers, his father, and even her mother to help him with the search, but none of them could find a ring that Tom felt was worthy of her hands. Each time someone would send him a photo of a ring that left Tom dissatisfied, which was often, he’d simply send back the verse from ‘Somewhere I Have Never Traveled, Gladly Beyond,’ regarding the smallest of hands. At this point, nobody was sure what he meant. Once Harrison had tried to clarify what exactly the rain having tiny hands had to do with the ring search, but he came back describing a look of genuine craziness in his best mate’s eyes and decided to drop it.
It was only after Tom had wandering into an antique shop with his mother that he found something perfect for her. The wedding ring was vintage and even came with an engagement ring, and after Tom had spent countless hours on the weekend thrifting and wandering in an out of hidden gem shops with his girl, he knew that she’d love it.
Tom could only hide the ring for about a week. He was utter and complete shit at hiding things, especially from her, and the ring felt as if it was burning a hole through his pocket. He couldn’t wait to let the whole world know that she was going to his forever and he’d be hers for just as long. Tom just needed to create the perfect moment.
Luckily for him, the perfect moment came the very next morning. Tom trailed behind her, kissing the back of her neck softly as she laughed and threaded her fingers up through his curls. They were deep within the poetry section of the most massive library Tom had ever seen and when she reached up to grab a novel, Tom felt as if the wind got knocked out of him. In her hands sat a copy of E. E. Cummings collected poems and while she sifted through the pages, Tom prayed inwardly to the universe for her to read the poem that he knew was destined to be hers.
Not allowing her time to chose a poem, Tom dropped down to one knee while her back was still turned on him. Digging the ring out from the confines of his pocket, he could only get the last few lines of the poem out. “I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice in your eyes is deeper than all roses.”
As Tom neared the end of the poem, she turned and opened her mouth to say the last verse with him. “Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.” She smiled, completely prepared to meet Tom’s eyes as she finally faced him.
At first, the only thing her mind could register was that her boyfriend was on his knee, as always. It took her a second to take in the ring that glittered off of the library’s bright ceiling chandelier. Pressing a hand over her lips, she struggled to breath, her small hands gripping the open poetry book in her hands. “Do you mean it, Tom?” She questioned, her eyes flicking down to the ring he was presenting her with.
His eyes were glassy in the light, and Tom smiled, “course I do, darling. I’m on my knee after all.”
Hello! Congrats on the new bloooog. How about a Peter Parker x reader where the reader tries to teach him how to slow dance before homecoming and they end up kissing?
a/n - i’m an ib history nerd so i apologize for the 13 million references in here LMAO i always try to show peter’s dorky side in these fics and i’m sorry if it failed miserably but dont’ forget to request a peter parker/spider-man fic if you’d like and follow!
Studying for a History quiz was such a bother, especially with the content being about some guys in suits fighting over which country got money and which one was left in the dust. Alas, I had to study in order to keep my self pride.
“The New Look Policy was proposed by Dwight Eisenhower to reflect his concern towards the United States military during the Cold War.” I read from my textbook.
I groaned and started scribbling into my notebook once more, silently listening to the noise the city produced from the small crack of the open window. The apartment was quiet tonight considering my mom was on her fourth night shift of the week, allowing some peace for me to study by myself. That was interrupted once two loud knocks were bouncing off the door.
“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” I heard Peter yelp desperately from the outside. I rolled my eyes and got up from my seat, heading towards the door. With Peter being a close friend, and also having him live two floors below me, it caused for a lot of situations like this to turn up unexpectedly.
“Coming!” I chimed, unlocking the door and opening it just a tiny bit, peeking my head through. “What’s up?”
Hey do you think that you can write a peter Parker x reader where the reader and peter are friends and goes under some anesthesia after some sort of surgery. After the surgery peter say some really fluffy things to the reader while she records it. (anon)
word count: 2,739 (i can’t seem to write short fics)
“You sure you’re not in any pain Peter? I can always go get
the nurse if you want,” your voice filled with worry as your best friend was
getting prepped for his cast for his broken arm.
“No, I’m fine (Y/N), I can feel it working. My arm doesn’t
even hurt that much,” trying to calm you down.
“You sure?” still wanting to make sure he was ok.
Peter nodded, squeezing your hand slowly calming you down.
You both waited till the nurse would roll you into the room where they would
take x rays and apply his cast.
“Are you sure you don’t want Aunt May in here instead?” your
hand interlacing with his.
“No, don’t think she would be able to handle this,” trying
his hardest to not show how much of an effect your touch was having on him.
Peter was starting to think that maybe Ned would have been a
better choice, because he couldn’t he wasn’t sure he could trust himself once
the anesthesia kicks in. He’s seen the videos of people admitting some personal
secrets, and last thing he wanted was to admit his love for you, since he
wasn’t sure it would cause problems between you two.
You and Peter had been best friends since 6th grade,
somewhere along the way you had stolen his heart, but this point he would have
willingly given it to you. Simple touches made his face heat up, warm smiles
made his breath stop; you holding his hand made his heart explode, everything
about you just sent his body on overdrive.
“Thanks (y/n),” you
don’t know how much you mean to me. That’s what he wanted to admit but he
doubted that he ever could, because he would be sure to get tongue tied in the
“I’d do anything for you Peter,” your smile lightening up
your face that instantly made his heart pound against his chest.
It had to be illegal to be that adorable, and what’s worse
is you had no clue how much of an effect you had on him. He could hear Ned’s
voice in the back of his head, telling him to admit his feelings for you. He
would always refuse stating that he needed to find the right moment to tell you.
“(y/n), there’s something that I should tell you…,” feeling
like this was the best moment to tell you.
You nodded, seeing a slight change in his attitude.
Warnings: Smut - NSFW – Sexual themes, inappropriate language, nudity, handjob,
fingering, squirting, unprotected sex - please guys if you’re going to be intimate with someone, please use protection. Also if you’re underage, please don’t read this.
Author’s Note: Hi guys, I don’t even know what to say about this. I think this
is the most smuty thing I’ve ever wrote ahah so all I can say is I hope you
enjoy it. This is also for @marvelous-fvcks writing
challenge. I hope you like it! I did my best. And please guys, tell me what you think of it. I’m so nervous for some reason ahaha.
Prompt Word: Hickey
[ of course! Thank you for requesting - hope you enjoy it! :)) ]
Rated (SM) for slightly mature.
After getting what you wanted by begging on your knees, literally, you didn’t even realize exactly what you did to this poor boy. Sure, you batting your eyelashes while speaking in a baby voice was nothing new - but doing that while on your knees was a different story. Jin was so conflicted, Taehyung had to shield his eyes to snap him out of his trance that you unintentionally put him under.
“The things she does to me…”
“Oh, no you don’t. You can screw her later, we gotta go.”
All you wanted was his attention, you didn’t intend on it going any further than just cuddling - you would’ve been fine with cuddling. You haven’t seen Yoongi all day, so when he was finally sitting still - why not take that opportunity to just snuggle and chill? The only problem was that, at the moment, he wasn’t in a snuggly mood. So you thought - why not get him into one?
Plopping yourself in the empty spot right next to him on the couch, you made sure that he noticed you by snuggling up against his side, nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck. Opening one eye in annoyance, Yoongi made an attempt to push you off - not really wanting to be bothered at the moment - but failed miserably. It wasn’t until you started to softly kiss his neck did you practically stop his breathing altogether.
“Oppa, I’ve missed you so much, don’t push me away~” You would coo softly while still buried in his neck, your warm breath sending a wave of chill bumps up and down his body. His lack of response - only because of your sudden closeness - seemed to be all the answer you needed. Huffing, you decide to just get up and go to bed - thinking the your attempt was a misfire.
Only for him to yank you right back down, in his lap this time, eyes now open and piercing into yours. As he stared up at you, the new position he had you in allowed you to feel…everything.
“You must be out of your mind if you think I’m letting you walk away after giving me this, jagi.”
“B-But, that’s not what I meant to-”
“Bullshit. Bedroom. Now.”
You tried aegyo, after receiving advice from a friend that it would definitely get your man do whatever you pleased. Sure, they were right in the end…it just wasn’t the kind of reaction you expected him to give.
“Namjoon, I didn’t mean it like this, I-I was trying to be cute!” You avoided eye contact as your boyfriend lowered his head to one of his favorite spots on your body, peppering the area with kitten licks as you fought to hold in your sounds.
“Doesn’t matter what you were trying to do, baby. It turned me on, and now you gotta pay the price for it.” He would reply, tugging your closer by your thighs, squeezing the flesh as warning to look him in the eye. Once you did, a small smirk would creep up his face until a single dimple was visible. You were in for a long night.
After that, you either thanked your friend or strangled them.¯\_(ツ)_/¯
It wasn’t your fault, you were merely trying to make him feel better. In a way, you did, but not in the way he expected at the moment. He was feeling kind of down, beating himself up on the mistakes that he made during their performance. You, being the awesome girlfriend you were, told him that there was barely any that was made - that his stage presence was fantastic. But, no matter what you said, his smile still didn’t have its usual brightness.
Thinking it over for a second and reviewing over how he would cheer you up, an idea spontaneously popped into your head as you made you way back over to where he sat under the dark rain cloud that hovered above his head.
“Jagi, I know you mean well, but I just really wanna be left alo-oh!” He would exclaim mid-sentence as you wrapped your arms around his head and pulled him into your chest. Whenever he would hug you like that, it would always make you laugh at how awkward and uncomfortable the position was, immediately bringing you out of your funky mood.
The only flaw in your plan was…Hoseok didn’t have boobs. But, you did. And right now you’re practically shoving them in his face. When you eventually pulled away to see if it made him feel any better, you were somewhat disappointed to see his face now scrunched up in displeasure.
“Great. Now I’m sad and horny. Thanks a lot.”
You were modeling a new dress for him that you had just bought. It was nothing fancy, nothing too out there, just a cute little sun dress in his favorite color. You bought it to wear for when you meet his family, wanting the first impression to be good - so you asked for his opinion. Jimin sat on the bed, waiting patiently as you changed in the bathroom, coaching you through the door.
“Baby, whatever it is, you’ll look amazing in it! They won’t care, I love you - so they’ll love you, too!”
“I just want to look like wife-material, that’s all!” You replied on the other side. Shaking his head slowly, he lets out a small chuckle before speaking under his breath.
“You already do, everyday.” Almost blushing at his own greasy comment, the small sound of the bathroom door opening was enough to draw his attention. His jaw nearly hit the floor as you shyly strut into view - already fidgeting with the hem of the dress.
“I-Is it too short? I feel like it is, just a little - do you like the color? Is the color okay, does it clash with my skin? It is a good color on me?” Question after question would spew from your mouth as you kept trying to find anything and everything that could be wrong with the dress. Jimin on the other hand was in his own little world as he stared at the woman before him in awe. Wow, you were really all his. All his, no one else’s. Now that you’ve put ‘wife-material’ in his head, it was all he could think about.
Park Y/n. Mrs. Park Y/n. The more he thought about it, the more it strangely aroused him. The thought of you in a wedding dress, taking his last name, baring his children - your honeymoon. The way you twirled in your sun dress was icing on the cake, you were gorgeous without even trying. Realizing that you were still rambling about the outfit, Jimin let out a soft ‘Yah,’ successfully getting you to stop talking and look at him with curiosity.
“Regardless if you hate the dress or not, it’s gonna end up on the floor after the dinner, anyway.”
Wouldn’t know what to do honestly. You had put on cat ears for the hell of it, and wore them around the house. Sneaking up behind Taehyung, you caught him off guard by purring in his ear, your arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind as you practically started to grind your lower half against his. Standing still in bewilderment, not having a clue on what you were doing, he decided to just wait it out and see how this ends.
Pulling away from him with a small lick to his cheek, you scurry away while making tiny meow sounds, leaving poor Tae to stand in the kitchen in confusion.
“What tf just happened and why am I turned on??”
“ I AM CONFUSION. YOU WERE ONLY BEING CUTE BUT NOW I’M AROUSED. AMERICA EXPLAIN.”
anon requested: Heyo could I request some step brother chanyeol smut where they don’t get along and are constantly teasing each other (in a sexy way?). One day chanyeol is going through the girls Phone and finds her daddy kink bdsm Tumblr and decides to punish her ;) in turn some kinky sex with spanking and bondage. (Lol sorry this is so detailed chanyeol has been fucking me up lately)
I want an 11 year old Sirius Black finally entering Platform 9 ¾, finally escaping from his unloving family, with a look of hope and fear of what’s next to come in his eyes. I want a misunderstood Remus Lupin entering the train, scared of what might happen if anyone finds out his secret, scared he might not fit in just like at home. I want a little Peter Pettigrew, awkwardly walking through the station, anxious about making friends and starting this whole new chapter of his life. I want a fearless James Potter, excited for the new adventures ahead, ambitious and eager to find his new group of friends waiting for him on that train. I want the four of them finding no open compartments on the train and agreeing to sit with each other for the ride, unaware of the brotherhood that was just born.
I want Remus coming back after his first full moon at school, new scars etched in his skin, scared to face anyone’s questions. I want Sirius telling Remus that whoever did that to him wont see the light of day, and Remus breaking down, ashamed to tell his new friends what a monster he is. I want Sirius, James and Peter all reminding Remus every single day that he is far from a monster, and that they love him for who he is. I want Sirius illegally learning how to turn into his animagus forms so that he can stay with Remus during his transformations and make sure he makes it out okay. I want the three boys skipping classes to stay with Remus after a rough full moon, snuggled up in front of the fire with chocolate frogs and pumpkin juice. I want McGonagall to find the four boys asleep in their common room, but let them off with a pass because she could see Remus’s new scars and the loving arms of the other boys protectively around him (and because she’s had a sweet spot for those boys from the day she met them).
I want James desperately trying to win over miss Lily Evens, the girl with a heart far more fiery than her bright red hair. I want Lily constantly shutting him down, keeping her admiration for him to herself. I want Peter trying to befriend her in hopes that he could introduce her into the group, then feeling bad and eventually just telling her how much James talks about her and how she should give him a chance. I want Sirius teasing the HELL out of James when he comes back from his first date with a lipstick stain on his cheek (which Lily left on purpose, fully aware of the torture that would come).I want James spoiling the crap out of his best friends, especially Sirius. I want 5 hour Quidditch practices, James wanting nothing more than to just go to his room and sleep, but alas, Sirius is waiting for him with another one of his “great” ideas that he’s been working on. I want the three boys being as obnoxious as humanly possible at all of James’s Quidditch games, and James secretly loving it.
I want Sirius shamelessly flirting with all the first years, and Remus looking at him with jealous eyes. I want Sirius pulling Remus aside at random points during the day (especially when he can see that look in his eyes) and reminding him that he’ll always be his number one Moony. I want Sirius randomly coming up with nicknames for his friends, names that only they could have the honor of using. I want him turning into a dog to avoid responsibility (and to mess with Snap on occasion). I want Sirius to get furious when James would decide to hang out with Lily instead of him, but grow to love her like a sister. I want other Gryffindors to lose their shit because “Black, shut tHE HELL UP ITS 4 IN THE MORNING”. I want a loyal Sirius always standing up for his friends, even if he knows their wrong. I want McGonagall accidentally calling Sirius “Mr. Potter” because of his closeness with the Potter family, and refusing to take it back once she sees the look of pure joy in his eyes, because for once in his life, Sirius Black has a family who loves him.
I want Peter stealing chocolate from the Great Hall after dinner to sneak up to Remus on a full moon. I want him being too awkward to talk to the Ravenclaw he has a crush on and needing Sirius to be his wingman. I want him defying all odds and doing whatever it takes to help his friends, including stealing some wolfs bane for Remus from Herbology class. I want Peter getting picked on by the older students, and then James and Sirius have a “talk” with them and comforting their little Wormtail. I want sleepless nights, wondering into the kitchen and snacking on pastries until morning. I want Peter the Peacemaker, always there to be the unbiased opinion in any argument the other three got into. I want Peter, little scared Peter, to finally find a place where he isn’t just “scared little Peter”. I want Peter finding his place along side his best friends (brothers, rather) and learning how to open up, and be as courageous as his heart, because he knows that even if he falls, he’ll have three amazing people waiting to catch him.
I want birthday parties. I want James going above and beyond, decorating the whole Gryffindor Tower, getting tons of gifts, making the cakes, the whole 10 yards. I want Sirius crying during his first birthday at Hogwarts because he’s never had anyone make such a fuss over him (and he’ll never let James stop making such a fuss over him). I want Peter eating the cake before the party even began, and James trying so hard to be mad but failing because Peter is basically his little brother. I want James almost forgetting about his own birthday until he walks into the common room where Remus, Sirius and Peter are all standing with stupid grins, surrounded by balloons and colorful potions (and of course Lily, much to James’ surprise). I want Sirius beating the crap out of anyone who dares comment on Remus’ scars, and James beating the living day light out of anyone who comments on Sirius’ home life. I want Peter being there to comfort Remus and Sirius while this is all happening, assuring Remus that he is no monster, and telling Sirius he is nothing like his family. I want all four boys staying up night after night creating the Marauders Map, the map that they sign their honorary nicknames to, and swear will make them legends one day. I want them coming up with the most epic pranks, even going as far as to prank the teachers (except Minny, of course). I want detention after detention, sitting in classrooms or polishing trophies or doing dirty work for different professors, each of the four boys looking at each other with mischievous smiles. I want James showing the boys some new potions his dad created, or his new invisibility cloak that they can use for their epic pranks.
I want all four of these boys meeting on the train every year, in the same compartment, planning the year ahead of them, escaping from reality. I want James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin, all finding hope and belonging and worth within each other. I want Prongs, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Moony. I want to hear their story.
His phone screen is dark and it mocks him even as
he pastes on a smile for the girl currently cuddling into his side. What was
her name again? Ye Eun? Eunha?
Fuck if he knows.
All he knows is that you’re not replying to his
texts, and he needs to get drunk asap before he does something stupid like call
you. The girl he currently has his arm around beckons to her friend from a
distance away, and Jeongguk tries his best to keep his eyes off her tits in her
low cut tube dress as she approaches with a giggle.
“Jeongguk, right?” Girl number 2 sidles up to his
unoccupied side and he immediately feels her breasts against his arm. They’re
firm to the touch, which either means that they’re entirely fake, or that
there’s enough padding in her bra for it to be a bulletproof vest.
AU. When superstar singer and winner of The Voice Louis Tomlinson tweets “Nothing worse than waking up with no milk for a cuppa !! Gutted” he doesn’t expect someone to bring him some. And he really doesn’t expect that someone to have bright green eyes, long curly hair, and (fucking) dimples.
Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that’s exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.
This is a (decently long, sorry for the lack of writing these past few days) one-shot for the below prompt! It… didn’t turn out exactly like the ask, but I hope you like it anyway! I’ve been wanting to try writing trans!lance for a while because I absolutely love that hc, and I really enjoyed writing this, so let me know if you guys like it, because I could definitely see myself doing another fic with it.
Trans! Lance where an asshole alien keeps miss gendering Lance and being
transphobic and he starts to get upset and then the team overhears this
happening and are about to kick the aliens ass.
I tried to make it gen… but it ended up being very klance, especially at the end… so uh… I hope you like it anyway! Sorry this always happens when I try to write gen fics.
Only half the team knew.
Contrary to their belief, Lance was
actually an expert secret keeper. With a large family like his, he
had to know when to keep his mouth shut. So, despite the loud,
obnoxious, open persona he displayed for the others, he could also be
He’d the had practice of years
sneaking out of the Garrison, or even his house when he was little to
go see the beach at night with his siblings.
So, keeping a secret on an
unbelievably large castle ship with only six other people on it was
Homecoming spoilers. Pin for later when you’ve watched the film. :) I repeat, spoilers. SPOILERS.
Being his best friend, aside from Ned, of course.
Living just across the hall. It was actually how you two met back in the day when he used to visit Aunt May and Uncle Ben.
Struggling and mourning the loss of Uncle Ben, because let’s face it, you adored those two with all your heart. (They used to babysit you whenever your parents needed a last minute babysitter)
Rubbing the fact that Aunt May loves you more (even though she loves you two the same) in Peter’s face.
Enduring all of Aunt May’s larb jokes whenever you join them for Thai.
“I larb you, Peter. And I larb you too, [Y/N]
“Okay, Aunt May…..enough.”
“What? You don’t larb me? Am I too lame to be larbed? Too cool to larb your awesome aunt? Not enough larb to go around to your good ole aunt? Saved all your larb for you one true larb, [Y/N]? Huh? Hm?”
“Uh….we larb you too?”
“Thank you, [Y/N]. At least someone larbs me.”
Being completely supportive of Peter getting an internship with Tony Stark.
Offering to help him with his internship.
Getting slightly offended that he doesn’t want help.
“Am I not smart enough to help you?”
“What? God, no. It’s not that…..it’s um….I just have to do this on my own, that’s all. You know, no help. Strictly myself….”
Competing against him with academic scores.
Being extremely competitive with each other when it came to exams.
Going back and forth on having the highest grade.
Talking about going to the most prestige college and then changing your minds because you two could never leave Aunt May.
Putting up with Ned being needy.
“Ned….this is a date….between two people.”
“Oh cool, I love pizza. I’ll just sit down right here and take a slice.”
“Yeah, so anyway, you two should come over and help me build my lego deathstar. It’s legit.”
Bickering with Ned, constantly. (But, loving him just as much as Peter)
Getting along great with Michelle.
Roasting Peter and Ned into oblivion with her.
Like full on roasts. It’s fantastic how long you and Michelle can go.
I mean, it’s almost not fair how hard you go.
But, in the end, Peter loves you and is sort of relieved that you get along with the people in his life.
Cuddles for days.
Like the kind of cuddles that make you all warm and fuzzy inside.
You know, the ones where you just sigh happily in his arms and think that Disney World ain’t got shit on being the happiest place on earth.
Netflixin’ and chillin’, (if you know what I mean, wink-wink) Forgive me, I forget that’s he’s fifteen. No sir, keep that in your pants now, you little rascal. And you? Don’t be puttin’ out, miss. .
Geeking out over Star-Wars, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, etc.
Going to Comic-Cons and dressing up.
Building and experimenting to the point where Aunt May and your parents scold you two for almost blowing up the complex.
Although, it’s not like you actually could blow up a building to that magnitude.
And after the fire department threatened to arrest you two, you put an end to experimenting.
Peter making you a playlist on your ipod.
Listening to it all the time because you just love the songs he chose.
No seriously, this playlist makes your heart stop with every song.
Peter always getting you your favorite muffin for breakfast before school.
He’ll even leave it at your front door in a cute little handwritten paper bag if he’s sick for the day.
Always being told he loves you.
Because, you’re the best thing that ever happened to him.
You being embarrassed when he tells random strangers that he loves you.
Like, you’ll be walking down the street and he’ll look at the old lady walking her yorkie, “Excuse me, m’am. But, I just want you to know how much I love this girl right here.”
Then flagging down a taxi to tell the driver too. “Hey, yeah no, I don’t need a ride. Just wanna tell you that I love my girlfriend.”
Peter even telling Happy who always responds with, “Can’t wait for the day she leaves you.”
Him keeping his double-agent life a secret.
Because he doesn’t want you to get hurt.
Constantly wondering why Peter’s free time is slowly diminishing. Because you can’t quite believe the internship was that demanding.
Worrying that Peter was going to break up with you.
Peter finding out about your worries through Michelle. (Who threatened to skin him alive should he ever hurt you.)
Taking a night off from his “internship” to take you out.
“Peter….we’ve been on the train forever.”
“Have a little bit of patience, [Y/N].”
“Where are we going? Does Aunt May know you’re out right now? How much longer? Is this going to be forever? Are we running away from our problems? Running from being millennials and trying to fit in with society? I didn’t pack anything. How are we going to survive the outside world?”
Peter intentionally ignoring your million questions by putting his headphone in one ear and other in yours.
Playing your favorite song to keep you quiet.
Realizing he’s taking you to Central Park.
Almost on the verge of tears when you find out that he organized a candlelit picnic under the stars.
Seeing Ned in the distance as he walks away and knowing that he had a hand in it.
Smiling and feeling secure that Peter is here to stay.
Getting a weird feeling that he’s still hiding something.
Unsure of how to go about asking him what he’s hiding because you don’t want to cross a line.
Michelle not caring and confronting him before coming back to you and confirming that he is hiding something because of the way he acted.
Feeling uneasy but forcing yourself to believe that Peter would tell you everything and anything because you two were on the same level and understanding about your relationship.
Using the Washington D.C. trip to curve your mind from it.
It failing when Peter decides to re-join the decathlon team.
Forcing yourself to ignore the gut feeling that Peter is hiding something when you asked him why he decided to re-join.
Peter being completely oblivious to your uneasiness.
Pushing it to the back of your brain when Liz scolds you for not having your head in the game.
But it coming back when Peter doesn’t show up for the decathlon.
Corning Ned and demanding where Peter is and why he isn’t answer his phone.
Getting irritated when Ned stumbles over his words.
Becoming so upset that you tell Ned to tell Peter that he better have an explanation or else they would be over.
Visiting the monument with everyone with the exception of Peter (obviously) and Michelle who passed on the tour.
Ignoring Ned when he tries to talk to you.
Liz concerned that you were upset and asks if you want to talk about it.
About to confide in her when the elevator of the Monument starts to malfunction.
Peter freaking the hell out when Michelle screams, “My friends are up there!”
Panicking and pleading Karen to help him find a way to save you and everyone else.
Trying to stay calm even though your heart is about to flip out of your chest.
Getting mad all over again because you were going to die pissed off at your boyfriend.
Spider Man saving you just in the nick of time.
Being so traumatized over the ordeal and Peter not being there, you lash out on him when he finally decides to make an appearance.
Michelle shaking her head, “You messed up, dude.”
“[Y/N], wait! Please, I can explain.”
“Explain? Explain?! I’m going to need a whole encyclopedia of an explanation, Peter. Can you give me that?
Ned trying to diffuse the situation.
Getting even more pissed off and breaking up with Peter.
Michelle whistling (because she didn’t see it coming), “Man, that’s rough. You gonna be okay? Actually? I don’t care. Bye.” Running after you to make sure you were going to be okay.
Ignoring all of Peter’s texts and phone calls.
Having your parents stop Peter from coming into the apartment even though they felt you were being silly. (They adored Peter)
Sitting in your room with a pint of your favorite ice cream while watching stupid rom-com films.
Crying when the guy gets the girl.
But telling yourself, you’re better than that and that you don’t need Peter.
Crying again because you need Peter.
Hearing a knock on your bedroom door and getting mad because you just know your parents let him in.
Yanking open the door to find a worried Aunt May.
“May? What’s wrong?”
Her coming into your room, “I know you and Peter are fighting right now but have you heard from him?”
“No, I haven’t. I actually haven’t received any texts or calls from him today….”
“Where is he? He’s been gone all day. I’m freaking out, [Y/N]. I’ve called every precinct and coroners office.”
Being speechless because it is very unlike Peter to not check with Aunt May.
Her on the verge of tears, “I can’t loose him too.”
Grabbing your jacket and your phone, hugging Aunt May tight and telling her you’re going to find him.
Spending hours before finding him sulking in hello kitty pajama pants and an awful touristy tshirt.
Awkward tension as you text Aunt May and telling her you found him and that he was on his way up.
Knowing that there was something wrong but not wanting to engage because you were still mad at him
Eventually breaking because you still love him.
“I lost the internship with Tony Stark……”
“I’m so sorry, Peter. I know how much that meant to you.”
Letting him go.
Regretting not hugging him or comforting him.
Going back to your apartment to sulk and eat another pint of ice cream.
Turning on the television to torture yourself with more rom-com’s.
Witnessing Spider Man and Iron-Man save a bunch of people on a ferry.
Dropping your spoon and ice cream as it hits you.
Running into your room to grab your journal. (you wrote daily)
Comparing the dates and times of when Spider Man was spotted and whenever Peter claimed he had the “internship”.
Finding a consistent pattern.
It dawning on you that Peter Parker is Spider Man.
“That little shit!”
Running out of your apartment and across the hall.
Banging on the door.
Aunt May answering with a concerned look.
Ignoring her and pushing past her to go straight into Peter’s room.
Busting in and then closing the door behind you.
Marching straight up to his startled, adorable, puffy eyed self.
Punching him in the arm and then covering his mouth when he lets out a yelp.
“You’re Spiderman?! Spiderman? Seriously? That’s what the internship with Tony Stark was about? What the hell, dude.”
Peter being completely in shock that you found out.
Standing there in complete silence for almost half and hour.
Him finally explaining how it happened.
Understanding why he didn’t want to tell you but still a little salty about it.
“So…..are we okay now?”
“Fine. We’re okay but don’t you ever keep secrets from me ever again.”
Everything going back to normal.
Him showing you all his nifty tricks.
Feeling bad that he got his suit taken away.
Trying to make him feel better by telling him he doesn’t need the suit.
Ned being ecstatic that you know.
Because now he can finally talk about it with someone other than Peter.
Ned not shutting up about it.
Peter showing you a different view of the city.
Planning romantic dinners on roof tops.
Or well, kind of romantic.
It’s mainly subs and sodas.
But it’s the thought that counts, alright.
Making you promise that you will run away whenever something bad happens.
Vowing that he will never let anyone hurt you for as long as he lives because aside from Aunt May, you are the most important person in his life and he does what he does to protect you.
Fuck. I didn’t think I’d get this many people requesting to be tagged. This literally took me forever…..
“Well, talking about awkward huh?” Dean laughed nervously as Sam only looked at him with a hard look.
“Yeah, very.” he said through pursed lips and Dean cleared his throat, avoiding looking at him in the first place.
“Honey?” it was your voice that broke the silence that had set between the two Winchesters “Can you come help me?” you sounded a little too eager and at your question Dean’s body stiffened and he felt his heart beat harder inside his chest. Gosh, how every fiber in his body just screamed for him to find you.
But he knew he had to keep himself, much less something from showing. He cleared his throat and shook his head “Well, this is gonna be a whole lot of fun.” he huffed.
“Definitely.” Sam mumbled and Dean instantly looked at him, raising an eyebrow.
“You know I’m just joking, right?” he asked with a deep frown but Sam wouldn’t even look him in the eyes.
“Yeah, when are you not?” he stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and prefered to look at the things that were in the house instead of pay attention to his insanely increasing jealousy.
Plot: Y/N feels overwhelmed and doesn’t know how to let her Harry know.
I combined my own idea with a request about H hearing Y/N admit something over the phone.
Hint before reading: Take a moment and think of that one thing that’s overwhelming you right in this moment, the one thing that makes your stomach feel sick and the one thing that keeps you up at night. Okay now you can read it.
Pic isn’t mine but I like to think that it is.
“Are you sure everything’s alright?”
My throat dried when I allowed my eyes to meet with his sparkling green orbs and the pure worry in them made it difficult not to tear up. With a deep breath I forced myself to smile.
“Everything is fine, Harry,” I promised him, my tone just sweet enough for it to cover up the lie, “It was a long day.”
“Again?” Harry inquired quietly.
“Again.” I tried to laugh but got up to walk to the kitchen when I failed.
Ever since the beginning of this week there had been a heavy and uncomfortable feeling settled at the bottom of my stomach making me feel so sick at times I believed I would vomit. But I couldn’t let it show.
“Do you want some tea?” I called towards him.
“Sure, yeah. Thanks, beautiful.”
With trembling fingers I reached for the kettle and I closed my eyes in hopes of calming down enough to keep my distraught emotions a secret. And what better than a hot cup of tea? There was nothing I loved more than spending time with Harry and if I could I would have him near me at all times. I felt myself long for him when he was gone, fantasized about being in his presence when I wasn’t and when I had him I felt at peace. Momentarily. Harry made me feel warm and without knowing it he’d become the only person who managed to decorate my face with an honest smile. We hadn’t been dating for long, only a couple of months, and it was true that we were happy. Never before had I felt this close to another person, never before did I trust somebody with my whole heart and no one had ever understood me the way that Harry did. Harry was my everything. And still I couldn’t find it in me to trust him with my worried mind.
It wasn’t that I thought Harry wouldn’t be kind. I knew if I were to tell him that I couldn’t find any peace and that not even the nights provided me with rest, he would try all he could to be supportive. What held me back from confiding in him was how utterly ridiculous I felt. Harry had so much going on in his life, he was under constant pressure and given even more from all sides and all at once and still he never uttered as much as one word in complaint. Me? I felt like crying when dealing with what was so minor compared to other people’s problems. How could I possibly admit this without making a fool of myself?
“Y/N?” I heard Harry’s voice call for me.
My breath hitched and I quickly finished both of our teas. “Coming!”
Hearing my friend’s voice over the speaker of my phone relaxed me. At least a little. Kat hadn’t had the time to talk properly in a while due to her job taking up a lot of space in her life and selfishly it felt good to hear that I wasn’t the only person who wasn’t having the best week.
“So anyway,” Kat spoke, “Things took a turn to the better when the guy I told you about showed up again. I think he recovered form the flu or something.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
She chuckled. “I bet your day gets better the moment you have Harry around to comfort you.”
“Well,” I sighed, “Having him around does bring me joy.”
When my voice quivered I knew I messed up.
Kat cleared her throat. “What’s the matter? Does he not understand or what?”
“I’m sure he would,” I muttered.
I didn’t reply. Kat laughed breathlessly.
“You seriously didn’t tell him? Y/N, he’s your boyfriend! And if I receive text after text about how shitty everything is going for you then something really must be up.”
A lump formed in my throat and I let out a small whine. “I don’t know how to talk to him about this thought.”
I shrugged even though she couldn’t see. “Harry has so much going on in his life. Never does he get a break not even on his days off. How could I burden him with my stupid and silly problems when his mind is full of much more important things?”
“Because he’s your boyfriend!” Kat repeated.
“Is that your answer to everything?”
“In a relationship it’s about being there for each other,” Kat lectured, ignoring my words, “You support him constantly. It’s time you let him do the same for you.”
My head snapped up at the noise of my front door opening and then falling shut.
“Y/N? You home, baby?” My heart fluttered at his voice.
“That’s Harry,” I quickly informed Kat, “I got to go.”
With fast steps I walked further into the bedroom and away from where I could hear Harry moving closer towards me.
“Of course,” Kat said and I could hear the smile in her voice, “Just remember. You have to be honest with Harry and tell him how you feel. Otherwise you’re being unfair to him.”
“I know,” I agreed lowly, “I know you’re right.”
Harry’s knuckles lightly knocked onto the wooden door and I turned around to look at him with a smile growing on my face. He looked insanely good. His hair was tousled from the clod wind I knew was tormenting outside, his upper body adorned a thick jumper and his legs were forced into much too tight jeans which to my benefit left little to the imagination.
“Hey,” I breathed.
“Hi.” His voice was quiet and I shuddered when the smile on his face didn’t reach his beautiful eyes.
I walked over to him and reached for his arm. “I’m just going to finish this call really quickly, okay? Then I’m all yours.”
“S’okay,” Harry said and shrugged off my touch, “I just came over to return the shirt you left at my place the other day. M’actually bit busy so I’m just going to head out again.”
My heart sank. “I thought you would stay tonight?”
Harry nodded towards the phone in my palm. “You should’t let your friend wait, Y/N. Wouldn’t want you to be unfair to anybody, right?”
And with that he turned around, out of my reach and towards the exit. The shirt he’d brought me was carelessly thrown onto the mattress and I watched him leave with tears already burning my eyes. What the hell had just happened?
“Y/N? You still there?”
Kat’s voice ripped me back from my thoughts and I quickly told her that I was fine and needed to go. Then I hung up. Great. Now not even my relationship was something I could find comfort in. There was no point in running after him as I new Harry moved fast and since he’d arrived by car I was sure he must be long gone. With my palms ice cold, my legs weak and my stomach in knots I sat down on the bed I’d thought I would be spending the night with Harry on, feeling the most uncomfortable and unhappy and in in general at a low I hadn’t reached before. There was no way I could hold back the tears from burning my cheeks and soon I was a sobbing mess, laying alone on the cold fabric of my bed.
From Harry, 7:20pm. I’m sorry I left like that, love. How about I come back over and we spend the night together like we planned? x
From Harry, 7:22pm. Don’t ignore me now. I know I was being harsh. A bit of a dick actually and I wanna make up for that. Please let me, baby. xx
From Harry, 7:23pm. I heard your conversation with Kat.
With puffy eyes I stared at the three messages. I breathed in shakily and shook my head before picking up the device to reply. There was no way I could face him when I was like this. I felt ashamed enough as it is and couldn’t bear the thought of letting my boyfriend see me in this weakened state.
From Y/N, 7:30pm. It’s okay, Harry, no worries. I’m a bit tired though. Don’t think that hanging out tonight is a good idea. I’m sorry. x
From Y/N, 7:33pm. If you want we could meet up tomorrow?
Teardrops smeared the screen and I brushed them off quickly in order to read Harry’s reply. My heart sank even further upon reading it.
From Harry, 7:34pm. If that’s what you want.
It was what I’d wanted. Still, my chest crumbled and the room filled once more with desperate and loud cries as I let it sink in that I’d successfully driven Harry away. A shaking palm clasped over my mouth as I attempted to somehow quieten the noises of my breakdown as I didn’t want to alarm my neighbours. What was I supposed to do? What was I to tell him tomorrow? That was if he even wanted to see me. My eyes were sore, my throat dry and slowly but surely everything began to hurt. Really ache.
My entire body froze and I forced myself to calm down long enough to make sure I hadn’t heard wrong. No. There was once again the distinct sound of somebody knocking on my front door. Oh god please no. I scrambled to my feet with hurried movements and came to a tumbling stand. With harsh movements I brushed the tears from my smeared cheeks.
“Y/N.” It was quiet but I heard and my heart began to pound heavily in my chest. What was he doing here?
“Harry?” I asked, my voice small and trembling weakly.
I sniffled noisily and tried to steady my breath.
“Course it’s me, love,” Harry hummed, his voice gentle, “Mind opening the door for me? Letting me in, sweetheart?”
“Harry, I really don’t think-”
“I hear it, baby,” he spoke softly, “You’re crying.” His voice sounded so sad, so empty of the anger it held earlier.
The pet names spoken with so much affection, the gentleness in his words and tone… I couldn’t fight any longer. With uncertain fingers I unlocked my front door and before I could turn the handle I had Harry’s arms wrapped around my waist as he forced his way into my apartment. Breathing in his scent as I nestled my face into the warm space between his shoulder and his neck, one of my hands wound itself into his short curls while the other clasped the back of his neck. Harry’s arms tightened around my body, bringing me impossibly close to his chest as he pushed the both of us further inside. I didn’t see but I heard him shut the door with his foot.
“Harry,” I whimpered, trying desperately to step away from him, worried that the endless stream of tears would mess up his jumper.
“No.” Harry’s embrace was tight. He ignored my protest and instead hoisted me up higher so that he could carry me to the couch in my small living room.
I was full on sobbing by this point, my desperation only increasing when he let go of me after making me sit on the couch. My arms were taken into his hands and I turned my head away when he crouched down.
“Y/N, look at me.”
I shook my head, a whimper escaping my parted lips. Harry’s hands moved gently, his fingers drew circles onto my skin. Normally the gesture was enough to calm me down but not today. I felt utterly embarrassed and I knew that Harry slowly began to realize too that this wasn’t just a small and simple break down. This was me, crumbling after having suffered under too much pressure for too long. This was me truly breaking down and falling apart right in front of his eyes. I gasped upon feeling him press his face into my open palms.
“My sweet girl,” Harry breathed into my hands, “Tell me if there is something that I can do for you, you hear?”
“There- there’s no-nothing, Harry.” I swallowed shakily and stared at the back of his head.
Slowly he looked up at me, green eyes wide, kind and patient. His warm hands clasped mine and my breath hitched when his heart shaped lips pressed a loving kiss to them.
“That’s okay, too,” he reassured, “In that case I will just do what I think you need right now, yeah? And if you want something different you tell me.”
He waited for me to nod, a small smile gracing his lips. Harry got to his feet quickly and immediately I was scooped back into his arms and brought to his chest. I hiccuped and Harry chuckled. His body settled onto the couch and I gasped when he placed my own body right on top of his, my back pressed to his chest. His face settled into my neck and I shuddered upon feeling his warm breath. One of Harry’s arms wrapped around my middle while he gently touched my forehead with his other hand, making me rest my head on his shoulder. I sighed and turned so I could nudge his neck with my nose. Next a blanket was pulled over my form, making sure that I was warm.
“Harry,” I whispered into his skin.
He intertwined our legs together before kissing my cheek.
“No more crying,” he said lowly, chest rumbling against my back, “It breaks my heart to see you like this. Which doesn’t mean that I want you to ever keep it from me again when you feel this way.”
The terrible knot at the bottom of my stomach loosened and the longer I breathed him in the more I could feel my heart relax. My breathing slowed, the tears slowly ceased from falling. My own arms wrapped around his and our hands found each other.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized against his skin.
He shook his head and squeezed me. “No, no, my love. S’not what I want. You don’t have to apologize for anything. All I want is that you trust me. That you know that I’m here. Always.”
“I want to see you.”
Careful not to hurt him I turned to lay on my stomach, my body pressed tightly against his chest and I leaned up to press a kiss to his soft skin of his chin. Harry groaned lowly at the sensation.
“You’re my girlfriend,” Harry murmured, his hands rubbing up and down my back, “You can lean on me. Confide in me. Don’t want hear that you’re unwell and hiding it.”
“Are you comfortable?” I wondered quietly, referring to his position.
“Very,” he assured me with a nod, cheekily grabbing my bum and giving it a squeeze.
I swatted his chest with a laugh and he removed his hands and settled them onto my hips instead. I found it hard to believe that having my body sprawled out on top of his was in any way comfortable but in this moment I knew there was nothing other than being in his arms that would heal my tormented mind.
“S’embarrassing though,” I admitted quietly, my unsure eyes finding his.
“S’not,” he argued, “S’part of being in a relationship. I’m yours, you’re mine and we’re both there for each other.”
I liked how natural his words sounded. How much sense they made.
“But,” I began, “what I’m dealing with is so stupid and you-”
“And I’m never too busy to take care of you just like I trust in you always being there when I really need you. And nothing that makes you cry is stupid to me.”
Harry smiled kindly and I could feel myself doing the same. Gently I reached up to cup his cheek and a tiny gasp escaped my mouth before his lips found mine in a loving kiss. Instantly I melted into him. His hands held me close, my own scratched his cheek while the other held onto his hair and for the first time all week I felt like I could truly breath. Harry’s presence took over all of my senses as I cuddled myself even more into his embrace. We continued to kiss until my lungs burned and this time when I teared up it was because my heart couldn’t hold the amount of happiness.
“Why are you like this?” I whispered, staring at my handsome boyfriend with wonder in my eyes.
He smiled and pressed another kiss to my temple. “Because you’re important to me. I need you to know that, love.”
“I do. Thank you so much, Harry. And I care about you, too. So much.”
Another kiss followed to my lips before Harry drew back to rub his nose against mine in a heartbreakingly sweet gesture.
Hope you liked this! Wrote it in one go so apologizes for any mistakes. Also, if any of you are dealing with something shitty at the moment I have my fingers crossed for you and know you’ll be alright. x
summary: typical new student AU; they’re in a new school and need a guide and you’re so graciously volunteered. though, there is something strange about that new girl, min yoonji. something you want to figure out.
warning(s)/kink(s): cross dressing, slight feminization, pet names, a little spanking, rough oral sex, semi-public sex, protected sex, hair pulling, slight dirty talk
songs: my hump – black eyed peas ; bang bang - jessie j ; attention - charlie puth
dedicated to: this is a suuuuper late b-day gift for my friend @1namkook i’m sorry it took so long, i had the illest writer’s block with it
A/N: Well, it’s been a full month since my last fic that I posted and I felt like it was time for a new one. Another Harry Styles fic because he’s such a legend and I love him so deal with it. This took me a good few days to finally finish, hence why it’s legit the longest thing I’ve ever written, because I wanted to get this really good because I literally write my fics in one night normally so enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it x.
Warning(s): Cheater!Harry, sad themes, swearing, a section of smut with very minimal Daddy kink
Word count: 8,005
Pairing(s): Harry Styles x Reader / Harry Styles x OC (Original Character)
It ain’t the gun, It’s the man behind the trigger. Gets blood on his fingers and runs. It ain’t the lie, It’s the way that the truth is denied.
A relationship that had withstood all trying odds thrown at it, time and time again. A relationship that, from the outside, never once seemed anything short of miraculous. Four years of that relationship had been a blessing and to her, nothing and no one could ever give her the satisfaction nor sensation of pure love and dedication, she feared she may never find something quite like it again.
It’s funny how certain situations arise, that are unexpected in the worst way possible, which make the mere thought of carrying on with the toxicity of a failed relationship unbearable.
It had taken a whole three months for her to coax a confession out of her tattooed lover which, during that time, almost made her physically ill to think about him, not only being sexually (but possibly also romantically) inclined with another woman, but lying so blatantly to her face about the multiple occasions he had, ‘ran out to get some deodorant’, during the dead of night, only to come back to their shared home in the morning with a different type of exuberant smell catching in the air from his body and clothing.
When confronted about this, however, the long-legged man stood in front of her, but yet, no eye-contact was maintained, and shook his head, pushing past the fragile woman he claimed to love for an extended period of time before slamming the heavy, mahogany bedroom door, muttering incoherent sentences on his way that normally consisted of, “Gettin’ on my fuckin’ last nerve”, and, “I ‘ave half the mind t’ leave you right fuckin’ now”.
Of course, it was when the luminous moonlight danced across the wooden floorboards of the bedroom, illuminating the whitewashed walls as if it was their own private, personal stage where they could showcase their undying love for one another, or so she once thought.
It was when the early hour of 3am came creeping around the corner with only the sounds of the wind whistling and the leaves whispering to keep her company as she laid in an empty, king-sized, luxurious bed that was meant to be a symbol of their companionship.
It was when she felt the all-too-familiar feeling of abandonment and loneliness twist inside her gut as fresh, hot tears sprung to her eyes and trickled down to her ears whilst unmoving and staring at the intricate detail of the high ceiling. She had been doing this for so many nights she was near confident that she could recite how many swirls and dots collected in the design from her counting.
Of course, it was then that she understood that she was no longer the apple of his eye. That he had escaped from her hold and found refuge in someone else’s arms. Someone else’s kiss. Someone else’s touch.
He would never admit this though, no, he would much rather sneak back into his own home where his significant other would lay, pretending to be asleep through her dry, tear-stained cheeks, rolled over to her side of the bed with him removing his clothes to slide skilfully underneath the untouched covers on his end, like he had been used to trying to not disturb her, before pressing a chaste kiss to her neck and whisper those three words that held no real regard.
He didn’t mean it.
Not since he started smelling like a perfume she could not recognise.
Every morning, a smell of fresh coffee and breakfast foods invaded his privacy that would jolt him awake, noticing his lady of four years had already made her side of the bed and left him a note in her cursive handwriting, that he used to adore, as she did routinely since they moved in together.
And every morning he would stalk downstairs to find her cooking for the both of them out of the kindness of her broken heart despite knowing about his infidelity and unfaithfulness before he wrapped his strong, manly arms around her trembling waist as sobs racked through her entire being.
Although, these said tears were soothed almost instantly as she felt the dry lips of the man she loved along her jawline and neck, peppering gentle kisses to her skin. She knew she shouldn’t be so easily swayed when he hadn’t even muttered a single word to her but she couldn’t control her feelings; feelings of anger and despair quickly dissolving into ones of adoration and desperation towards the figure looming over her.
A shaky hand was raised to caress his prickly, stubbly cheek as she closed her eyes and enjoyed one of the rare moments of intimacy the couple shared nowadays, willing herself not to shed any more saltwater from the seas swirling in her eyes.
A waft of the faint smell of cinnamon and honey contrasted with her regular scent of vanilla and fruits that brung her out of her Harry-induced daze, making her pull away from the man she could no longer trust.
“Don’t walk away from me. Please. No’ today.” He pleaded, she almost could have believed he was being genuine if it weren’t for the black lace thong she’d discovered discreetly hidden inside his trouser pocket whilst doing the laundry last Sunday. He knew this, yet he still didn’t bother to hide the piece of evidence elsewhere. It was almost as if he had wanted her to feel her heart drop to her stomach.
“Harry, by my walking away, it gives you the leverage you need t’ turn in the opposite direction and in'a her bed.” She spoke in rebuttal under her breath; hoping her words wouldn’t travel far enough and stop short before they could reach his ears; in a way, recreating how whenever she gave him her all, it never seemed to find its destination within him and instead go off-track.
Perhaps that was the reason why her love wasn’t reciprocated.
“Wha’ did you jus’ say t’ me?” The sound of heavy footsteps coming back round the large, marble countertop placed in the middle of the spacious kitchen to her after grabbing a snack from the cabinet, not only made her anxious but also incredibly uncomfortable as she never wanted to carry such negative conversations with the center of her affection, knowing that he would deny all the objectives she would present to him, similar to how he had before.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it, baby.” She forced a fake smile onto her face, an expression she had grown accustomed to whenever she looked too deep into his pools of jade he called, ‘eyes’, digging out information she never thought she would have to read. She turned her body around to crash against his chiselled chest, trapping her between the oven and his own furnace, his body giving out warmth she used to find comfort in. “I didn’t say anything important, I promise, now gimme a kiss.”
Seemingly satisfied with the answer he was provided with, he leant in to press his lips hard against hers and rested his palms on her hips.
Undoubtedly, it was one of the most difficult things she had ever had to do. To kiss him as if her heart wasn’t crumbling like the walls around her; suffocating her, was too much to bare as she finally pushed him away and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.
“How dare you stand here and kiss me with tainted lips you’ve put on another girl. How dare you stand here and pretend you’re committed t’ us. And how dare you stand here and make me a fool for loving you when you go out and make love t’ that woman you found at a dingy, dark nightclub one lonely winter’s night.” The streams of emotions flowed down her red, puffy cheeks as she expressed her discontent and disappointment from within.
It had been a long time coming and she knew she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Not when he made no effort to admit to his wrongdoings, but instead gave her false hope towards a relationship that was barely alive.
His arms tried to reach out towards his beautiful explosion but she couldn’t stand to look at him for longer than she had already endured and backed away from his softening stare.
He couldn’t continue his façade, not anymore.
“No, sweetheart, please…” He began to somehow explain months of late nights and cold shoulders, but she had heard and lived through everything she needed to in order to make her final decision as she knuckled away her falling tears and practically sprinted to the bedroom to collect her belongings. “It jus’ happened! It was out of my control, baby, you have t’ believe me!”
She had to leave.
No more could she sit there and act as if they were the couple they used to be in the beginning. No more could she sit there and act as if he was the man she fell in love with.
The door clicked shut just as she zipped up her suitcase, signalling he’d now entered the room that was once filled with the purity of their love. The moment he slept next to her curled up body in the middle of the Stygian night after he spent his evening in a stranger’s bed, the barrier was broken and was replaced by one of deception and distrust.
His feet padded furiously against the pristine, fluffed rug situated at the center of the space before slamming his hand on top of the lid of the luggage in an attempt to keep the woman he genuinely loved deep down from leaving him.
“Harry. Get your hand off.” She threatened with a calm, gentle voice which she never used unless she was livid behind her cool, collected nature.
“Listen t’ me. I didn’t mean for this t’ happen, I didn’t mean t’ lie t’ y-…” He, again, was cut off by her forcefully lugging her property out from under his grasp and onto the floor with a loud ‘bang’.
“It wasn’t the lie! It was never the lie! I’ve known for months, Harry. ’S the way you denied the truth every single time I asked you about it! And if you’re implying that that’s the worst of it, I don’t even wanna think about the things you’ve done t’ her and vice versa.” She stayed glaring straight into his watery irises for a few seconds before spinning on her heel and walking out, deserting a broken man with his broken heart gazing at the now wide-open entrance with traces of her vanilla scent lingering but her nowhere to be found.
You’ve been killing softly and finally, That is too much. (Oh) And I’m all out of whiskey, To soak up the damage you’ve done. (Oh)
You would think drowning her sorrows in her tears and heartbreak would’ve been enough to express her emotions but no. She had managed to find herself amongst sweaty, filthy bodies in a large bar from which she had drunk her fifth glass of strong alcohol, she could barely see straight.
With the toxic fluids coursing through her veins, the pumping bass of the latest chart-topper beating her heart for her, and conversations of the blurred people around her resounding in her psyche, she had had enough.
Hard to believe, but it was a rare occurrence that she would even bother to dress herself up and emerge from her temporary abode, with her estranged high school friend she had recently been in contact with, to appear at the local bar she used to go to with Harry whenever they wanted to get away.
It used to be a sort of sanctuary for the two of them. It used to be a chance to just talk about their day and their feelings to each other without anyone else prying into their business. But now it was, and would forever be, “the place where he met her”.
“The place where he inadvertently broke the bond between lovers which he vowed to never do”.
Yet still, there she was.
Sitting alone on a high stool, gripping the side of her glass so tightly that the beads of condensation evaporated under the red heat of her fingers and inner turmoil.
She had just been staring at the wine glasses hanging down from the ceiling, like bats in a cave, whilst downing her beverage in record speed which allowed her to move swiftly onto her next drink. Even the bartender had started to get conscious of her intake and that was enough for him to then refuse to supply another source of liquor.
Her newly rekindled friendship with her high school classmate had been put to the test that evening and unfortunately, by her having no one she knew around in her presence, let her know that she need not care for the whereabouts of her friend as they didn’t care for hers after the second round of alcohol.
The sudden deprivation of a stinging solution making its way down her throat since she had been scolded like a child for the excessiveness of her drinking, made her mind wander into the fields of betrayal that replaced the meadows of happiness she used to frolic in with the man she used to think she would one day marry.
As soon as her gaze fixated on the empty glass in front of her, the saline tears poured over the barrier of her waterline and left her silently sobbing through her harrowing heartbreak.
Dying from a broken heart was something she had only read about in the news and never once believed it to ring true but as she sat there, in Harry and her bar, she could practically feel her chest contracting and splitting into two halves. Although, she didn’t really understand how considering he still had her heart in the palm of his hands and desperate for his love.
The mere sight of a grown woman openly, and drunkenly, weeping must’ve been hard for surrounding strangers to handle since by the time she had ceased her muffled cries to soft sniffles and looked up with bloodshot, sore eyes - most of the partygoers she had mixed in with had departed and left only her and a few stragglers behind with a busied bartender wiping down spilt beverages with a cloth.
The palms of her hands were raised to her reddened face and rubbed over her features to try and soothe her outburst of feelings as a heavy sigh was blown out from her pale lips in response to the heavyweight she felt in her chest.
Heels clicked on the floor of the building as she dug into her purse to find flimsy pieces of paper that represented a form of payment she could offer the man behind the counter for the alcohol she had consumed.
“On the ‘ouse.” A clear, but deep voice sounded from in front of her as her glass was collected, “Yeh look like yeh had a bad one so don’t worry 'bout it.”
Her hard and focused stare switched from her trying to find her money in her purse to kind, pitiful, sapphire eyes as she faced the generous bartender.
“Noo. No, I can’t jus’ no’ payy yew. ’Ve 'ad like nine'een drinkss-..” Her slurred speech in between her not-so-subtle sniffs and hiccups made the stranger chuckle and she watched how his shoulders moved, fascinated by the way they were connected to his body that she felt the need to touch hers to confirm her suspicions that yes, she had shoulders too.
“Don’t mention it, love, I’ll call you a taxi.” He informed the unsteady woman the other side of the counter before picking up his phone and dialling a number he knew off by heart from the amount of times he had to ring because of previous passed out customers.
A completely innocent and everyday nickname she had been called before by many people, but this particular time made her legs shake and her lip quiver as she fought to hold back more streams of sadness.
Harry used to call her, “love”.
Harry used to show her love.
And Harry used to give her love.
But that was all gone.
All of it wasted and bestowed onto the other woman in her relationship.
She supposed it was a good thing that he had decided to take that route. She supposed it was a good thing that he made it clear she wasn’t enough. That she wasn’t what he wanted. That way she could confidently move on and find another to treat her right.
But her heart wouldn’t allow it.
Her heart remained in the familiar hands of her puppeteer and continued to make his own lovesick puppet out of her. Why? She may never understand. She only knew that he had a fatal hold on her; squeezing ever so softly but growing tighter with each and every day that passed by, that she feared she might have wound up helpless and perishing in his addicting arms.
He had been killing her softly, albeit unknowingly, but she had finally decided it was too much and escaped his grasp physically.
His emotional duress on her, however, was a different story altogether which she thoroughly believed she would never be able to evade.
If there is one thing that I’m guilty of, It’s loving and giving when you take too much. //•// If there’s anything I’m guilty of, It’s loving you too much.
“Harry, stop!” The exclamation was followed by a giggle as she extended her hands out to cover the lens of the new, vintage camera she had purchased especially for him on their third year anniversary as a strong, steady couple.
“You’re jus’ the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, darlin’, I 'ave t’ take photos t’ capture your beauty.” He exaggerated and winked when he switched his eyes to stare at her smiling face rather than through the viewfinder.
“Ew, you’re such a dork.” A pillow was lugged at his head which, as a result, made his curls fly out in every direction possible, him then looking like a human version of Simba. “You look the most attractive you’ve ever looked right now, baby.” A snort came from her button nose as she reached for the device in his hands, turning it on him and clicking the shutter multiple times at different angles.
“And you just sounded the most attractive you’ve ever sounded.” He spoke in rebuttal before shaking his hair out of his face and tamed it slightly.
A playful pout was brought upon her lips as a sign of her disappointment that her masterpiece was ruined but she continued to shoot amateur pictures of the stunning man with legs either side of her hips since she would never tire of looking at his perfectly structured face and features that were God’s gift.
“Oi, ’m s'posed t’ be taking pictures of you, my love.” His hands found their way to his hips and she figured that, in that moment, he had never looked more adorable so the shutter sounded once more to signal that she’d documented the sight on the roll of film in the camera. “’M gonna need yeh t’ stop before I get rowdy.”
“Rowdy?” A loud guffaw sounded as she lowered the camera down to her lap and just merely glanced up at the mess of curls on top of her in disbelief and fond. “I’d like t’ see you try t’ get 'rowdy’, honey, you’re the most calm and collected person I know.”
As soon as she placed the photographic equipment to one side, her arms were pinned above her head by a strong force coming from her short-haired lover and before she knew it, she could feel his fringe tickling her forehead since he leant forwards and hovered over her.
“I can be rowdy when I wan’ to, yeh know that more than anybody, pet.” He lowered his voice down at least one octave as he spoke, a glint of mischief in his sparkling eyes.
“Mm…” She pretended to think as a borderline seductive hum sounded from her throat. “I have no idea wha’ you’re talkin’ about, H.” A shake of her head only further exaggerated her point as she tried to prove her unknowingness and innocence.
A low, breathy chuckle resounded from deep in his chest, seemingly-always-minty breath fanning over her face gently, before he pressed a loving peck to her plump lips.
It was intimate moments like these where she felt she had never been more content, nor could she probably ever be more content without him.
It was intimate moments like these where she felt almost certain that there would never be another man more catered to her soul as he was and she intended on keeping him forever.
“‘M gonna love you ‘til the day I die.” The soft whisper coming from his lips transferred onto hers and she could feel tingles rush throughout her body. “Ev’ry day I spend with you jus’ gets better and better, I don’t know wha’ you’re doin’ t’ me.”
A caressing touch was brought to his cheeks as she pulled his face up to stare into his emerald eyes. She never got tired of looking into the windows of his soul - she thought as if they held information about himself that was only revealed if someone was to gaze intently into them.
“And ev’ry day I spend with you, makes me wan’ t’ never live another day without yeh, you’re my world.” A grin started to grow on his features but she carried on before he had the chance to reply, fearing that if she didn’t tell him what she had wanted to for so long, she might never get the opportunity, nor courage, to again. “You, Harry Edward Styles, are the reason tha’ ev’ry morning when I lie in bed next t’ you, I wan’ t’ scream at how much I adore watching you yawn and stretch when yeh make that little noise to shake the tiredness off. You are the reason tha’ ev’ry night when we take a shower together, I wan’ t’ kiss yeh until our lungs give out because I don’t ever wan’ t’ stop. You are the reason tha’ ev’ry time when I see yeh performing, I wan’ t’ jus’ run up on stage with you and show ev’rybody there that you’re mine and how proud I am of you. Words will never be able to describe how much I’m smitten with you, Harry, you’re the most amazing guy ‘ve ever met and I’ll be damned ‘f I see another chick on your arm.” She had to pause momentarily as she felt a familiar touch wiping away a stray tear that had trickled down her cheek in the heat of her emotions before nervously laughing and continuing to finish her mini-speech. “I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much, I don’t think you’ll understand.”
The only response that was mustered from the tanned man was a shake of the head in disbelief at the meaningful moment that she had just shared with him, he felt a slight twinge in his stomach he couldn’t identify before placing his elbows either side of her head, careful not to rest on her sprawled out hair, and, once more, pressing his raspberry lips against hers in a passionate seal of affection.
He shifted his weight onto his forearms in order to place himself in between her bent legs without breaking their kiss and let out a quiet groan of satisfaction against her mouth. Her hands reached up to tangle in his cut curls, tugging on them lightly just as a teaser. He ended up cupping her behind as he pulled away from her soft lips to flip their bodies over to allow for him to be the one on his back and situated his woman on top of his hips, squeezing hers temporarily as an indication to keep kissing him.
And when has she ever refused him?
A small smile appeared on her face before dropping her top half down onto his chest and reconnecting their pairs of lips. Hands pressed to his firm chest as legs straddled his frame before trailing her fingers gently down to the hem of his shirt.
“Take it off, baby.” A breathless plea was heard from the man underneath her which gave her the boost of confidence she felt she needed which encouraged her to remove the first item of clothing from his toned body and she couldn’t help but run her hands up and down his beautiful torso. “Now le’ me see you.”
She raised her own top over her head herself and threw it somewhere unknown, just as she did his t-shirt, and revelled in his reaction to her reveal, noting the way he trailed his eyes up her exposed chest and bit his lip. “Look a’ you. My gorgeous girl.”
She felt the rose colour blush onto her cheeks, she thought she would’ve been better off as a traffic light, before she looked down to try and hide the obvious effect he had on her but was stopped by his forefinger lifting up her chin and guiding the other hand to the clasp of her lace bra, unclipping it expertly with a single movement, and looking at her intense eyes. “I never wan’ you t’ feel like you have to hide around me.” The straps fell down her shoulders as soon as she relaxed her arms to remove the piece of lingerie, giving her significant other a firsthand view of her bare chest, whilst he fondled her breasts generously and massaged them. “You’re beautiful and you’re mine, I wan’ yeh t’ believe it.”
Her head tilted backwards at the sensation of him having her cupped in his hands and lovingly playing with her as she felt a tweak on her left nipple and a wet tongue flick on her right. A short intake of air gasped from her throat in surprise at the sudden attention but she wasn’t complaining.
To show her gratitude, she found that her hips started to grind down on him - both their clothed crotches rubbing against one another, making them both let out a soft sound of appreciation.
“Wanna taste you…” She chirped after she had plucked up the courage to tell him while his mouth was still on her, alternating between each nipple.
“’M not stopping yeh, baby.” He spoke in reply as he detached himself from her boobs, giving them playful, but gentle, little smacks, and watched them jiggle slightly to his amusement.
By him taking it upon himself to lay back down, she took it as a sign to hop off him momentarily and hook her thumbs inside the matching lace material of her panties (she hadn’t bothered to put on bottoms - she liked wearing his shirts) before swaying her hips side-to-side. She liked to give him his own private show every once in awhile to watch him grow harder within the constraints of his jeans as he watched her.
Some could say she had a slight kink for exhibiting herself for him and she felt proud that he liked what he saw every time, enough to show off that cheeky smirk of his that she loved so much and bite his lip.
She successfully managed to drop the skimpy thong to the floor and stepped out of it, rendering her completely naked, whilst she crawled back onto the bed and in between his spread legs.
Her hand flew straight the the button of his skin-tight, charcoal jeans and pulling down the zip slowly, flicking her eyes up to see his face that construed his impatience. A light titter came from her lips as she begun to pull the waistband of the item of clothing down his legs and off his body teasingly, planting pecks down his thighs and legs in the process but intentionally avoiding where he needed her most. “God, sweetheart, please.” He started to beg, he couldn’t wait anymore. He felt painfully hard already and she wasn’t doing anything to relieve it - just make it worse.
“Oh, ‘m sorry, honey, I didn’t realise you wanted me so bad.” She feigned innocence with a pout of her bottom lip before she grinned mischievously and palmed him through his boxers.
The sudden attention to his most sensitive area made him rut his hips forward onto her hand with a half-arsed apology mumbled from him before a low groan erupted, interrupted by her reaching up and connecting her lips to his in a kiss as she continued to work him through the thin material.
As she felt a wet patch forming due to the pre-cum leaking from his tip, she concluded that there had been enough teasing so she pulled herself away from his luscious lips as his boxers followed suit with his jeans and were tossed aimlessly somewhere in the room.
Standing to attention, the red, aching head of his dick looked too enticing for her to ignore as she started to give him kisses and kitten licks. A small growl of approval from him gave her the confirmation she needed to then flatten her tongue against the underside of him and lick a stripe along him until she reached the tip, swirling her tongue around it like a lollipop.
A shiver was sent through his body as he looked down at his lover and gripped her hair in his fist. He watched her lips wrap around his, he must admit, larger-than-average size and take as much as she could fit in her mouth before she began to suck.
A strangled cry came from him as she unexpectedly opened up her throat and attempted to take all of him. As soon as her nose touched his trimmed hairs, he let out a yelp of pleasure since he felt himself at the back of her throat before she gagged, making the muscles clench around him which made it feel even more pleasurable.
“Shit, you take my cock so good.” That sentence alone was enough to make her feel on top of the world as she pulled off to catch her breath for a second, a string of spit still connecting her to him as he reached down to swipe it up with his fingers and proceeded to press them to her mouth, making her open up and taste him.
“You taste amazing.” She praised him back, knowing that it’ll give him the confidence boost he needed to really fuck her into the mattress soon.
After her regular breathing was regained, she, once again, dived back onto his pulsing manhood and begun to hollow out her cheeks around him whilst working her tongue around his girth but making sure no teeth were present as she bobbed.
Constant affirmations of pleasure tumbling from his bitten lips only made her move faster before she raised one hand to what she couldn’t fit in and expertly moved it in sync with her mouth.
“Fuck, if yeh keep goin’ like tha’, baby, ‘m gonna cum.” The warning was enough to convince her to pull off of him with a ‘pop’ and sit back onto her knees, looking down at him with a virtuous look on her face but with spit dripping down her chin. “You look sinful, yeh fuckin’ tease.”
She had to bite her lip to hide a subtle smirk and she kissed up his torso before sitting back on his hips, making sure to be just in front of his length so he could rest on her arse as she bent down to give him a passionate, open-mouthed kiss.
His large hands roamed her back as he reciprocated the kiss by pushing his tongue in, meeting hers. An enticing hum was let out as she circled her hips gently, rubbing up against his already throbbing cock. He pulled away only to duck down and start to press his mouth against her neck, beginning to suck bruises into her skin to mark her as his to everyone that looked.
Her tease only further continued as she heard him groan in desperation when she rubbed against a particularly sensitive spot before he decided he couldn’t take it anymore and threw her down onto the bouncy bed as he held himself up with his hands, adjusting to be perfectly slotted in between her legs that locked together around his torso as she ran her fingers through his hair that fell down.
“Harry?…” She spoke up in a soft voice and he could feel her breath on his face by how close they were.
“Mhm?” He reached down to position himself against her clit and began to jut his hips forward and back eliciting a high-pitched squeal.
“F-Fuck me.” She had the wind knocked out of her as soon as he entered her before she could finish her request.
Both parties let out loud moans as they both felt each other in the most intimate way possible. He let her adjust to his size impatiently since it took all of him to not move inside of her. The warm, wet walls of her womanhood drove him crazy and he swore he nearly came undone already when she clenched around him.
“You ready, honey?” He asked shakily, he just wanted to feel every inch of her.
A timid nod came from her a few seconds later signalling her consent and he wasted no time in dragging himself out until just the tip was engulfed before plunging back into her tight hole, encouraging another in-sync moan.
Gradually, he picked up a regular rhythm and fastened his speed as soon as she muttered the words, “faster” and “harder”. The sound of skin slapping on skin filled the air mixed in with their combined moans and groans.
“Yeh feel so good, so deep.” She plucked up the confidence to try her hand at some dirty talk he had never heard from her before but he had to admit, he felt himself twitch at her words.
“God, you’re killin’ me.” He shivered as he picked up his pace.
“Yeah?…” She smirked as she leant up to press her wet lips against his, moaning against them. “Fuck, Harry, don’t stop.”
Every word she said stroked his ego even more and it turned him on to no extent to get praise that he was doing everything she wanted. With a few more hard thrusts, he felt the familiar twist in his stomach.
“You gonna cum for me? You gonna cum for Daddy?” The nickname just slipped from his parted lips as he breathed heavily but it didn’t go unnoticed by her, making her let out an exaggerated moan to let him know.
“Mm, Daddy’s so good t’ me.” She paused to peck his lips once more before arching her back as he brushed against that special spot. “‘M gonna cum. Want yeh t’ cum inside me.” She whispered.
Never had she been so relieved she had decided to take up the pill since she never wanted to stop feeling this level of ecstasy.
Hearing those words whispered so filthily from her cherry red mouth tipped him over the edge as he released hard, surrounded by her squeezing walls, which in turn, caused her to become sensitive and orgasm with him still deep inside of her as they both yelled each other’s names in pleasure.
The only noises that could be heard was their heavy breathing and the parting of lips as they gave each other loving pecks, trying to come down from their highs as he carefully pulled out.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened t’ me, you know?” She rolled onto her side to face the man that collapsed by her side and cuddled up to him, tracing the watch she had given him as a second Valentine’s Day present. In fact, she had the watch that matched. It came as a couple’s collection, what could she say?
“I know, baby girl. ‘N’ I love you very much.” He replied tiredly as he followed her movements on the timepiece.
“I love you too.”
Though, how was she to know that he told her empty promises and gave her false assumptions?
The watch she had given him? He had unexpectedly dropped the bomb on her that he had supposedly ‘lost’ it one day nonchalantly, as if he didn’t really care, after coming back from one of his never ending nights out.
She still had hers.
She never took it off since she bought them both unless she showered and went to bed.
She always put it back on in the mornings even if she didn’t have plans. She just loved having the strap to remind her of their love when he wasn’t around.
However, whenever they fought, it always seemed to her that he forgot to speak with an underlying tone of adoration like she did since she could never really stay angry at him. Always pinpointing the cons of the situation they were arguing about and making her feel guilty that she even brought it up.
But ever since she packed up and walked away from his hold on her, she figured that the only thing she was genuinely guilty of, was loving him too much. Giving him too much.
She gave him everything she had to offer and during the first few years, she thought it was enough for him to believe she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
It was only when she started to feel her grip on him slipping away from her that she knew she was his second choice. Something that she never wanted to be.
If somebody asks how we died, Please look them straight in the eye. Call it, “suicide”. Don’t fabricate, just tell 'em, babe. It was suicide. Don’t sugarcoat it, just let them know.
The two men stood conversing with each other as they discussed the art that was on display for the event they were invited to. They had been colleagues before; however, they had lost contact after one of them took up a new job opportunity, meeting again after a good year or so and decided to catch up.
The art gallery consisted of the most recent masterpieces from unknown artists around the globe. It was an event organised to give exposure to struggling individuals chasing their dreams and it was people like Harry and his status who were invited to review the artworks and buy them if they were impressed. All the money earnt from these purchases go back to the original artists, which in turn, correlated to more of said artists’ pieces being on display in the future.
The prices they were going for weren’t exactly the cheapest either.
“‘Ey, didn’t your girl wan’ t’ be an artist?” Obviously, the break-up hadn’t reached the likes of Harry’s newfound pal yet and it instantly wiped the smile off of his face.
“Yeah.” A remorseful chuckle was puffed out, “Yeah, she did…”
“Actually, where is she? Yeh should’ve brought her along, yeh idiot, she would’ve loved this! Las’ time I saw yeh both, you couldn’t leave each other alone.” The uninformed man stood next to him gave him a playful nudge and a wink of the eye without noticing the sudden deflation of his friend.
“She, uh… She’s not my girl anymore.” He finally confessed after swirling his drink in his cup as he was pondering whether or not to actually tell the man beside him.
“Oh, shit, H, I didn’t mean t’-…” He began to apologise for being so insensitive but was interrupted by a shake of a curly head.
“‘S all good, don’t worry ‘bout it.” His eyes cast downwards, losing the twinkle in his eyes as he tried to smile genuinely.
“If yeh don’t mind me asking, mate, wha’ happened? You seemed so happy.” A hand was placed on his shoulder roughly as a form of comfort as he sighed heavily.
“It just… Didn’t work out.” A dismissive sip of his beverage came afterwards as the guilt of brushing his four-year relationship off like it was nothing came creeping up on his conscience.
“D’yeh really expect me t’ believe that, Harry?” The questioning tone of the man that clearly didn’t believe his reason for the end of his relationship only made Harry feel even worse about his disregard and internally convinced him to elaborate.
“It was my fault.” He rubbed his hand over his face, he didn’t realise actually talking about it would affect him this much - especially in public. “I, um… God. I cheated on her.”
The recoil of the friendly hand on his shoulder signified the disappointment his friend felt towards him but kept his mouth shut, willing him to continue to explain.
“She was everything I thought I wanted, that I needed. I had no doubt that she was the woman I could spend the rest of my life with.” Harry painfully started to release his pent up feelings ever since she walked away from him the week before. “I still think she is, you know?…”
He trailed his sentence off like he was ashamed to admit his feelings. He felt as if he didn’t even deserve to mention her name, let alone keep thinking about their future together. He pulled himself together, though, he owed her character enough to explain the situation fully and not give people even the faintest idea that it was her that caused the death of their relationship.
“I ruined four years of the happiest times of my life, Nick, for nothing… It was ‘bout five or so months. It lasted for five months. It jus’ happened, I never wanted to jeopardise wha’ her and I had bu’ it was when she was away for one of her work trips.” He felt the water building up behind his eyes, ready to start falling at anytime but he had to get it out. He didn’t care if he was in public or not, it had been eating him alive not being able to talk about it with anyone. “I went t’ the bar her and I always went when we were free. We used t’ talk for hours about jus’ anything. Each other. Our days. Our families. Our future… How much we loved each other…”
He had to quieten his voice at the end otherwise he knew he would’ve burst out into ugly tears. Not like he hadn’t been doing exactly that ever since the front door closed of their shared home. Well. His home. He didn’t even think it was a ‘home’ anymore. She was the one who made it feel like a home to him and when she left, it was just a building in which he slept in every night. With all of her belongings gone after she had come to pick up the rest, catching him in his time of vulnerability when he opened the door where he hoped she would’ve been back in his arms within the hour, it was just a house. There was no warmth left within its walls; only faded memories he tried so hard to block out as he spent his nights with a skimpily-clad woman he didn’t even know the middle name of.
“I met her at that same bar and we jus’ got t’ talking. I told her how lonely I felt with the love of my life away for weeks over a few drinks I bought us. By the time she was running her hand up ‘n’ down my leg, I wasn’t in my senses and jus’ allowed her to. The first time she kissed me the same night, I couldn’t stop her even if I tried - I was so far gone. And I… I enjoyed it. It’d been so long since I actually held someone close, video calls and textin’ can only do so much, y’know? ‘Fore I knew it, I woke up the next morning in someone else’s bed and her naked body beside mine in the exact same state. All of it jus’ spiralled out of my control from there, she never stopped callin’ me for another hook up and I couldn’t bring myself to say ‘no’… I should’ve, I know I should’ve, I had a perfect life with the perfect girl but I guess, for a moment, I wanted something else. Somethin’ new.” He didn’t even attempt to hide his shame as he looked up towards the ceiling to keep the rivers that flowed in his eyes at bay.
“She didn’t even try t’ leave as soon as she found out. She told me she knew at the third month about wha’ I was doin’ and said she stayed t’ try and change my mind.” He brought a closed fist up to his mouth, refusing to break down in such a public place, and already receiving a few judgemental stares from passersby as he struggled to contain his emotions. “God, she tried t’ change my mind…” He weakly let out a breath. “She did ev’rything for me. Her attitude towards me never changed at all, she still loved me with ev’rything she had. The best girl I could’ve ever asked for was all mine and I didn’t even give her a second glance most nights when I climbed into bed with her after I came on another girl’s tits.” His sudden outburst of anger directed at himself brought unwanted attention from the few that surrounded him, earning some disapproving stares and shushes.
“Why don’t yeh call her, H? You’re in bits.” A piece of advice was given to him from Nick who stood silently throughout his whole rant. The reply to it, however, was a mocking laugh as Harry threw his head back.
“Would you forgive me if you were her?” He stared blankly at the artwork in front of him, they must’ve been stood there for 10 minutes at the least.
Once again, silence was the dumbfounded man’s only response to his rhetorical question, and that was all Harry needed to nod to himself as if he finally understood. That he finally let it sink in that his relationship was indefinitely over and there was nothing he could’ve done to make it better.
There was only so many tears he could hold in at that moment before he couldn’t physically keep his wall up and all the emotions came rushing through the floodgates of his distress and trauma.
He had managed to keep himself together for all of the times he had to inform acquaintances of his new relationship status by simply brushing it off and saying exactly what he had told Nick at the beginning. But it had become too much for the secretly heartbroken man finally, and there he was. Sobbing disgustingly into his hand as he tried to cover his cries up to leave at least some of his dignity remaining intact.
He had come to the conclusion that it was never what she had done. It was never what she had said. And it was never what he thought he felt; like he just fell out of love with her. But it was everything to do with the way she still loved him unconditionally after acknowledging his unfaithfulness to her and it made his heart hurt.
By realising this too late, he had to live with himself knowing that he pushed her too far off the edge and that he actually did love her after all.
He still loved her.
But instead of falling asleep to the sight of her radiant face - peaceful as she cuddled into his body, he had to tell everyone that he, himself, killed the best relationship he had ever been in.
It came as no surprise to me, or anyone else, that The Emoji Movie was a disastrous
train-wreck of a movie with no redeeming qualities whatsoever. From the moment
it was announced, The Emoji Movie was
a joke, little more than a punchline of what corporate Hollywood would make
just to pander to a younger audience. Yet, by creating the shoddy garbage pile
of a “film” (I use this term sparingly) that is The Emoji Movie, Hollywood has done something incredible—they have
The “plot” of The
Emoji Movie is one that has been presented countless times before: a misfit
must leave home to change himself but learns along his adventure that his true
value lies in his uniqueness. In this iteration of the “finding yourself” story
the hero is Gene, a socially-outcast “meh” emoji who is terrible at what he
does—he has all sorts of “non-meh” feelings that he simply can’t contain. On
his first day of work, he is called upon from his emoji station to be used, but
he freaks out at the last minute and causes a glitch in the sending of the
emoji, leading to Alex (the phone’s user) embarrassing himself in front of the
girl he likes. Because of this, the smiling emoji, Smiler, who is the “big
status quo boss lady” decides to kill him. Gene, however, runs away from the
antivirus software and hides in the “loser emoji” section of Textopolis (the
city where all the emojis live together). There he meets Hi-5, who was once a
famous and well-liked emoji who got to stay in the “favorites” section of
Alex’s phone, but hasn’t been used in weeks and now seeks to regain his lost
In order to reprogram Gene’s malfunction and get Hi-5
back into the favorites section, the pair leave Textopolis and go to a piracy app
that Alex, a fifteen-year-old boy, has on his phone for some reason. Gene’s
parents then leave after him to try and find him and Smiler sends her antivirus
robot soldiers outside Textopolis to apprehend Gene. Meanwhile, in a story beat
stolen straight from Wreck-It Ralph and
The Lego Movie, they meet Jailbreak,
a hacker emoji who serves as the purple-haired punk love interest for the
movie. Jailbreak refuses to help them at first, but when she sees Gene’s
ability to express multiple faces, she agrees to work together to get to “the
source code” in “the cloud.” Then, the antivirus robots appear in the piracy
app, (despite the fact that they were given orders to follow Gene’s parents,
who are nowhere in sight) and the hero trio escape through a tunnel to Candy
Crush where Gene gets trapped and they have to play the game to help him
escape. This scene has absolutely no bearing on the rest of the film and is
only an overblown advertisement for a phone app, which one will likely notice
as a reoccurring theme in this movie.
After escaping Candy Crush, they take a tunnel to Dance
Now (available now in the app store) and they have to play the game because
Hi-5 pushed a button for some reason. Here they reveal that Jailbreak can’t
dance, and the dramatic stakes are heightened, except they aren’t because Gene
teaches her how and then they do the “Emoji Bop” together in what I assume is supposed
to be a display of self-love. But oh no! The antivirus robots show up again
somehow, so our trio has to escape fast, or risk being deleted. Then, because
his phone is playing Dance Now music during class, Alex deletes the app, and
Hi-5 fails to escape, sending him to “the trash.”
Naturally, because of the friendship that the three
characters have cultivated together after knowing each other for two hours,
Jailbreak and Gene decide to use Spotify to travel to the trash and rescue
their companion. Meanwhile, Gene’s “meh” parents have had a falling out because
each one blames the other for their son malfunctioning. It’s ok though, because
they meet in an Instagram photo and Gene’s dad reveals that he malfunctions
too, so naturally they make it all up it each other Alex also decides to delete
his entire phone because it sent the wrong emoji one time and made noises on
its own. Gene and Jailbreak then save Hi-5 from the trash and they’re chased by
a bigger, badder antivirus that follows them until they get to Dropbox, where
it can’t get them for some reason.
They then have to upload themselves to the cloud, and
each character uses their own talents to get past the firewall. At this point
the movie realizes it makes no sense and in a series of nonsensical rapid-fire
events proceed as follows: Gene professes his love to Jailbreak, who it turns out
is actually a princess emoji, Jailbreak denies him because of a throwaway line
earlier in the movie about her being an empowered woman, the antivirus appears
somehow and takes Gene back to Textopolis so he can die in front of the other
emojis, Jailbreak and Hi-5 fly back on the Twitter bird to rescue him, Alex
begins to delete his phone but chooses not to when Gene sends himself to Addie
and she responds with “that was a cool emoji” (verbatim), Smiler is crushed by
a giant robot, the emojis have a dance party, and everyone lives happily ever
Watching the shoddy piece of work The Emoji Movie calls a story, I felt my head spinning with
questions—not just regarding the plot holes and contrivances, but to the world
itself. How do emojis reproduce? If emojis age in years, as is stated in the
movie, how could any emoji be older than the amount of time Alex has had his
phone? What if an emoji isn’t at the station when it is called upon? How does
time flow in the phone as opposed to outside of it? Are all the emojis that
marry the same emojis incestuous? Why do some emojis have names like “Gene”
while others are simply called by their appearances, like Hi-5? Why is the
Christmas tree shown in public in the first scene but then shown in the loser
lounge two scenes later? How do the emojis know the history of their app? Why
do actions in some apps affect Alex’s phone while actions in other apps do not?
How to the antiviruses find Gene and his crew over and over again? Why didn’t
Smiler send any antiviruses after Jailbreak when she first left Textopolis? Why
does Alex try to delete his phone after sending one incorrect emoji and having
it make noise in class twice? How does the illegal antivirus get into Dropbox?
How did Smiler get the illegal antivirus? Why did Smiler feel the need to kill
Gene in front of the other emoji? Why did Smiler feel a need to kill Gene in
the first place? Why does the girl on the Dance Now app ignore jailbreak
messing up after the second time? How do all the emojis come back from
deletion? If the trash is emptied out daily why is an email from weeks ago
still in there? And, most importantly, why did I choose to watch this movie. The Emoji Movie does not answer these
question, because it doesn’t care.
The Emoji Movie doesn’t
care about its story, its congruity, or the specifics of its world, because
none of it matters. The story beats, directly stolen from other, better,
movies, are still in place, and none of the specifics beyond set up for this
formulaic and unoriginal wholesale feel-good message have any relevance to the
story. The pink-haired rogue stolen straight from The Lego Movie has no personality beyond what the plot demands, and
the same can be said for almost any of the other characters. Gene, or, discount
Wreck-It Ralph, has the defining personality trait of “feeling things” and his
story arc leads to him “feeling more things” and Hi-5’s slightly more defined
emotional journey leads from him wanting fame to wanting friends. All the other
characters in the story are even less one-dimensional, somehow, with
personality traits that are all literally written into their very names and
But ultimately, these characters are simply set pieces.
There is no investment in the world of the emojis, no feeling when the entire
phone is deleted. Half the scenes in the movie are just cash cow product
placement filler, and it becomes clear when one realizes halfway through the
movie that none of the adventures they have seem to matter, even within the
context of their own story. When the characters themselves seem to realize that
their journey is pointless, it becomes impossible for an audience to care about
or interact meaningfully with the film that they’re viewing, and the best that
any viewer can conjure is a “meh.”
The story of The
Emoji Movie is a clear cash grab, and rivetingly unengaging in its poor
execution, but more lies beneath the surface. The morals that The Emoji Movie tries to impart to its
audience are well-intentioned (as any moral is), but also inherently flawed,
and violently mangled in every scene where they are introduced. Indeed, the
heaping dumpster fire of a film that titles itself The Emoji Movie exists on multiple levels of terribleness, not
using poor storytelling techniques, but imparting poor morals through these
techniques as well. It often contradicts itself, falling flat on its face and
hopelessly bumbling between individualistic self-love and a quite utilitarian
The Emoji Movie has
all the markings of a summer Hollywood “live your true self” movie at its beginning.
The main character has a specific, boring role that he is expected to serve
unquestioningly, and is made a pariah for breaking from this role. His sidekick
also rebels against the system in his own right, trying to cheat his way back
into a position of power. By focusing on these two, the story accentuates the
flaws with the emoji system and how it emotionally damages those who are forced
to suffer under it. Even the villain, Smiler, is affected in her own right—he
constant need to maintain happiness seems to have driven her to a place of near
insanity. In the opening monologue (a completely different problem), Gene
points this out this flaw to the audience by noting how the laughing and crying
emojis can never break their character and the viewers begin to see the
thriving city of Textopolis as a flawed dystopia. However, after the first
scene, little attention is given to these flaws, instead focusing on Smiler
herself as a villain. The plight of the “loser emojis” (emojis that don’t ever
get used) is also fantastically mishandled. They are only seen twice in the
movie and the second time is in a post credit scene where they remain in their
basement, unaffected by the event of the entire movie. After sitting through an
entire movie with the message that we should be ourselves instead of acting how
society tells us to, we see that by nature, some people will (or must) always
be excluded from the metaphorical “emoji dance party” for being themselves. The
“self” that The Emoji Movie pushes is
not just a best self, but also a “most useful” self.
This is expanded upon in Gene’s journey, where he goes
from being a hyperactive “meh” emoji to (briefly) being a good “meh” emoji to
finally learning to use his true power as a multi-faceted expression emoji. In
the stages before he discovered his true potential, Gene was outcast by his
peers—and any viewer could argue that this was rightfully so. Gene broke the
emoji picking device and injured dozens of emojis in the process of his one
mistake and possibly endangered the safety of the entire phone. Gene then
realizes his mistake and goes off to “fix” himself, only to come back stronger
and more useful than ever. As is the case in many stories, Gene is accepted
only after his usefulness becomes apparent, and the villain is revealed as a
bloodthirsty authoritarian rather than the level-headed leader the denizens of
Textopolis cited her as being. All is forgiven for Gene and the emojis are
given a world where they can serve their own purpose to society, whatever that
purpose might be.
Utilitarian theory is nothing new, and it has both its
merits and its flaws, but the type of utilitarianism presented in The Emoji Movie is inherently flawed, as
it places Gene’s happiness above the well-being of the collective for the
majority of the movie. The ending in itself is also serves as a perfect
propaganda point for the utilitarian theory that it begins to uphold later on.
Gene obtains happiness when he is most useful to the group collective—and thus,
happiness becomes associated with utility to the group. Instead of positing
that happiness can be found through the self, or that the self can and should
be used to help others, The Emoji Movie combines
the two, raising the idea that true bliss can only be achieved when your “self”
is given to others.
Ultimately, this idea is an idea that I disagree with.
Whether or not you choose to side with me is up to you, but, speaking objectively,
the romanticizing of self-sacrifice is an idea that has tangible harm on
audiences who are fed it without question. Modern Japan, for instance,
continued to have problems with high suicide rates due to the presentation of
hara-kiri, or suicide by sword as “altruistic” in many historical texts
(Suicide in 20th Century Japan, 150). This is not to say that using
one’s self to assist others is harmful—good deeds are the basis of a
functioning society—it is simply to note that the mixed messages that The Emoji Movie gives point towards both
complete discovery and complete subjugation of the self in an unhealthy and
shoddy portrayal of a moral that has always been cliched at best.
The Emoji Movie also
makes the mistake of attempting to tackle “women’s issues,” despite not even
passing the Bechdel Test. Throughout the movie, Jailbreak’s primary motivator
is that she wants to be free to express herself however she wants, which she
will obtain by reaching the cloud. The movie attempts to attach this to womanhood
by attaching this to Jailbreak wanting to escape the oppressive strictures of
heteropatriarchal femininity—except, in the finale, she is framed as being in
the wrong for not reciprocating Gene’s feelings for her. Not just this, but the
day is saved by her using her femininity and consenting to be with Gene,
despite her feelings on the matter never being brought up for discussion.
Despite the single throwaway line about “men getting credit for women’s work” The Emoji Movie is not pro-woman, and
could easily be interpreted as the opposite of that. It defines traditional
femininity as being the most useful aspect of a woman to a society and
inherently ties all its female characters to something within that stricture, pushing
its heteropatriarchal utilitarianist propaganda points deep into the dirt as it
tries the make the point that “sensitive guys are cool too.” This is not to say
that women who embrace their traditional femininity are by any means being
women incorrectly—The Emoji Movie just
happens to portray its women poorly, using them always as tools for the
man-driven plot and never fleshing them out as characters.
Tony Leondis offered his own interpretation of The Emoji Movie’s story, calling it a “coming-out
story” which is significant, as Leondis is both the director of the movie and a
gay man. If one looks from a distance and squints, the similarities between The Emoji Movie and a coming-out story
can become visible. Gene is outcast for his “malfunction” as many gay teens
will be. The butchering that follows this plot point is incredibly poorly done,
and leads to something to utterly offensive and heterosexual to be called a “coming-out
story.” First and foremost, a “coming-out story” needs to reach the very low
bar of deviating from traditional heterosexuality in its story’s romantic
subplots, somehow. This seems to go without saying, but the team of The Emoji Movie conveniently forgot
this, instead tripling down on the action and giving the audience three
heterosexual romantic subplots, those being the ones between Alex and Addie,
Gene and Jailbreak, and Gene’s Mother and Father. None of these deviate at all
from a traditional heterosexual romantic story, and, if anything, Gene and
Jailbreak’s story enforces obligatory heterosexuality instead of contradicting
it. Not only that, but the farther one goes into the plot, the less a coming
out story makes sense. When Gene’s father reveals that he has the same malfunction,
is he being implied to be the emoji version of “gay?” In a better movie, this
could have been used as a tool to foster an emotional connection between Gene
and his father, but The Emoji Movie
is not that better movie, so this plot point is essentially forget after it
becomes irrelevant. In the finale, Gene actually watches his parents get “erased”
and can’t break out any expression except a “meh,” which is telling of how well
the emoji movie establishes connections between its characters.
The themes explored in The Emoji Movie are explore poorly at best, and offensively at
worst, often taking a back seat to the far more important message of the film—the
advertisements. Ultimately, the reason that The
Emoji Movie does such a terrible job with its ideas is that these ideas are
only borrowed plot points, there to mask the movie for what it really is—a massive
commercial for phone apps. The true message of The Emoji Movie isn’t “be yourself” or even “make yourself useful”
it’s “buy our product,” and everything beyond this is simply pointless fluff.
It’s no secret that The
Emoji Movie was a corporatist cash-grab, but it was astounding to see just
how deeply that had sunk into the movie itself. The entire story is product
placement after product placement, a journey to Dropbox, through Candy Crush
and Dance Now, so unabashed in its
capitalism that it made me question the film industry as a whole. Where do we
draw the line between business and art? At what point do we leave all hope of
creativity behind and choose to instead sink into shameless cash grabs and
commercials like The Emoji Movie?
Then I realized, with a sinking feeling in my gut, that The Emoji Movie had indeed killed art.
On its first day, The
Emoji Movie made ten million dollars in box office sales—a fifth of what it
cost to produce. Despite withering reviews and constant scorn from the
demographics it seemed to be targeting, The
Emoji Movie will chuckle through its entire life as a movie, because it played
us all. This movie is a Frankenstein’s monster created by Hollywood, a mishmash
of everything that makes money crammed into one pandering mess of a film, and I’m
sure it knows this. I’m sure it knows that it looks like a dumb, out of touch,
unwatchable pile of garbage, but I’m also sure that it doesn’t care about this,
because it’s found a way to make money without even trying.
The Emoji Movie probably
paid for itself in the sheer amount of advertisements it crammed into its
ninety minute runtime, and the young, impressionable minds watching it will all
be immediately entranced by the colorful scenery of lands like Spotify and
Candy Crush. Sales will go up for the sponsors, and the Hollywood capitalist
fat-cats who decided that a movie should be made out of emojis will laugh all
the way to their enormous Beverly Hills mansions. They knew that they could
take advantage of the “car crash phenomenon” that makes people stare at things
they shouldn’t, so they sent The Emoji
Movie out to their theatres and made a quick buck for Sony Animation.
But beyond this, The
Emoji Movie sets a precedent. It showed that idiots like me can be drawn to
this shit like moths to a light. It showed that movies do not need to have good
quality, or have be art, to be marketable, and that the film industry should
prioritize business and profits above all else. The Emoji Movie has proved, statistically, that quality cinema
should always come second to quality advertising. The time to organize against
the Hollywood capitalist is now. A boycott of terrible Sony films is the least
the we can do to stop them, even though such an action would be little more
than a thorn in their hide. We Must accept that our idiocy and submission to
this trash is at least partially responsible for the state of film as it is in
America today, and we must break free of the chains that force us into our
roles as submissive cash cows.
Good cinema does good things for those that watch it. It
can be used as a tool to convey important and revolutionary ideas, or to relay
important information to those that are systemically spat on by traditional
education. Historically great films have caused great controversy, such as the
movie adaptation of To Kill a Mockingbird
which caused riots in the south upon its release. When we let film fall to
business we lose a part of our cultural identity—we submit art, heritage, and
storytelling as just another part of a capitalist machine.
We have the buying power. We choose where we spend our
money, and where we place our values. No longer can I sit idly in my movie seat
and watch terrible movies for fun—the time for action against the greatest
threat to art in the western world is now. Resist capitalism, resist the state,
and resist the attack upon the most basic human freedom of expression.