#but also?? i don’t want to post ugly photos ??????

[louisarmpits]

Why is taking pictures so hard

[eimids]

Don’t care about them

Alexia Putellas x reader

i’m gonna keep writing to annoy that rude anon😉

this is inspired by this whole situation going on in my blog!! enjoy nonnie i know you are reading this😚😚

warnings: bad body image, rude comments, angst

You and Alexia had dated for a year before your relationship became public. It wasn’t ideal but you were happy that now you were able to show to the world your girlfriend.

The press was having a field day after your relationship came out with the one and only, Alexia Putellas. They were writing about your life and every single thing you ever did.

That wasn’t the worst part. It was the fact that they were talking about your body and looks. Giving their opinions on your posts on instagram. Judging and criticizing if you are worthy enough for Alexia, the star player of Spain and Barca.

The articles weren’t all that bad but the comments were.

Under a photo with you wearing heavier makeup than usual.

“She wears way too much makeup, i bet she’s actually ugly and just maskes it behind that makeup”

If you weren’t wearing makeup.

“She’s so ugly, look at those eyebags. she doesn’t deserve Alexia”

Then there was a photo of you in a bikini.

“🤢 look at those things and that stomach. she should be a lot skinnier. alexia deserves much better than that”

“She’s trying so hard to suck her stomach in it’s pathetic”

“I wouldn’t be posting bikini pictures with that body”

You quickly decided to turn off the comments on specific posts. Not wanting to hear the mean words they said about you.

You went through the rabbit hole of scrolling and reading through every single comment before deleting the comments. It wasn’t good for you but you couldn’t help it. Just needing to read what they said about you. Some comments were actually nice. Telling you how cute you and Alexia were together. Probably most of them were nice but they went to blind eyes. You were only able to see the negative ones.

It quickly became too much for you. You actually started to believe the comments about Alexia deserving better. You started to isolate from her and from everyone. It was easy since Alexia was in the Spain women’s camp during international break.

It started as you just not replying to her texts so often and missing some of her calls but it quickly escalated to you completely ignoring her. You thought she wouldn’t care about your absence in her life but she did.

In fact she was stressing the whole camp about it. She didn’t perform as well and you were in her mind constantly. She thought she did something wrong. Luckily for her there was only one more day of camp and then she would see you again and solve this situation. She knew that whatever it was, you could work through it. You always did.

When Alexia came back home finally she found you in your shared bed. She noticed the dry tears on your cheeks and your phone in your hand. She decided to unlock it to see what it was.

She was horrified when she saw all the comments about you. How could anyone say those things about her precious girl. The girl who wouldn’t hurt or say anything bad about anyone. She hated that this was somewhat her fault. Her being a public figure, it was hard to avoid those comments.

She closed your phone and took her own in her hands to post quickly on her instagram. After that she cuddled close to you. Not wanting to wake you up but also wanting you as close as possible. She stayed like that for a while before falling asleep herself.

The next morning you woke up to the soft hands caressing your body. So gently touching every part of your body while whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“Should we break up?”

That wasn’t at all what Alexia expected from your mouth and she tensed up immediately.

“What, why” She asked breathlessly.

“I don’t deserve you. They all say it. You deserve much better than me” You said while looking into her beautiful eyes. Tears creeping in your own.

“Absolutely not. You are more than enough and i love you more than anything my beautiful girl” She answered then quickly followed “You don’t actually wanna break up, right?” She asked nervously.

“No” You said and shook your head. You started crying to her about all the mean stuff in your comments. She listed carefully and assured that none of them were true.

The rest of the day she showed just how much she loved you and you stayed in bed for the whole day. Just before you went to sleep you checked your instagram. To your surprise there was a post from Alexia made the day before.

Liked by yourinstagram, Lucy Bronze and 1, 456, 789 others.

alexiaputellas: my beautiful, amazing, kind and loving girlfriend 🩷 te quiero mi niña

the comments you been writing about this beautiful soul are horrible and i disagree with them all. i couldn’t ask for anything better and if we are being honest, i don’t know how i deserve her but i’m so lucky to have her in my life<3

so for anyone who has been sending those comments, just stop. if you’re own life is that boring then maybe get some help 🙂

me and my girl will enjoy our life together 🤝

no me importa lo que piensen los demás✨

—

hehee

[therabbitthatpostthings]

Plushies!

JJK Actor AU. Kinda headcannon to what their “out of character” persona would be like. Basically you have plushies of them and they have opinions about it.

Inspired by another fic, can’t remember the name and I scrolled for an HOUR for it. All the character had texts prompts in them.

Maybe spoiler???

Nanami Kento

Continuation of this post

- Between you simping so hard for his onscreen self and the plushies, he is so tierd.

- He’s been acting since his late teens but had one big breakout role. Since you two started dating you have made it a mission to collect any fan content that involves a role he is in.

- Even in the roles where he’s evil you have a mountain of merch!

- He loves that you are so supportive but the Nanami obsession is next level. He’d be more upset if it wasn’t just his face.

- He loves you so he puts up with the Nanami plushies.

Gojo Satoru

- Date an actor they say! It’ll be fine they said! Literally wtf.

- He’s a lot like his character in terms of playfulness. You have gone on record to say they are pretty 1:1 with each other.

- So naturally, when you bring home a Gojo plushie he is distraught.

“I can’t believe you would cheat on me!”

“IT’S A TOY!”

- He kicks Gojo off the bed all the time. Now Gojo Plushie sleeps on the living room couch.

- He still gets up every morning and complains that there’s another man in your apartment when he isn’t there (completely disregarding that you are at work half the time)

- He is secretly looking for artist to commission to make a matching plushie of you.

Geto Suguru

- He HATES it.

- Not just because it’s a plushie of Geto in his Kenjaku era but also because you got it from a con. It’s not licensed merchandise. Meaning stuff he would have gotten for basically free.

- In fact “Sugu-Mini” was just the beginning of a small empire of Suguru plushies you acquired over his duration on the show.

“Why are they all so fucking ugly? Why don’t you ever buy the cute ones?”

- Would rather die than admit that he’s jealous you hold one in you lap while working or lean on them when on the couch.

- Finally stops complaining when you move them to your home office and cuddle with him again.

Kamo Choso

- Sweet angle baby. He actually loves that you love plushies so when he got casted as Choso he would made it a mission to get you one of the first plushies they made.

- It makes you happy so he is ready to get you as many as you wants. He posts on insta a lot so when he mentions looking for more Choso plushies it practically goes viral.

- The next con he went two it took like three attendants to help him lug all the plushies he got. He later posted on insta that night a picture of his bed covered in Choso plushies.

- Eagle eyed fans noticed something though. The layout of the bedroom look eerily similar to another person who made a post about their brand new Choso plush. What are the odds?

- You both turn it into a game, posting photos with an increasing amount of Choso’s everytime.

- This actually starts a trend, #chosoplushietakeover. There’s not a single cast member or crew mate that doesn’t have a Choso plushie. It’s wild.

Ieiri Shoko

- She’s always been a natural beauty, so graceful and ethereal like. Playing someone collected and laid-back like Shoko was a welcomed surprise.

- Even though her role is smaller compared to everyone else, she loved it anyway. Any video from production has her somewhere in the background.

- As another devoted con-goer she also gets a bunch of plushies and brings them all to you. You two have at least 1 plushies in every room in your home. You both even carry a keychain version on your bags.

Iori Utahime

- like her character she has a deep seated hatred for Gojo’s actor but in more of a rivalry way. They are both child stars that got casted a lot together. For a short amount of time they were a ship.

- she originally posted a cute (cropped) picture of her plushie with you sitting off to the side.

- then Gojo did the same.

- So she posted another handmade plushie on her story.

- So did he.

- At this point she wanted him DEAD cause she knows how he feels about those plushies so he’s doing this just to piss her off. It would be that bad if he wasn’t actively bragging about ratioing her.

- Soon enough it becomes the battle of the plushies between these two. Factors are formed in the fandom. No mercy, all glory, blood for the blood god.

Ijichi Kiyotaka

- Doesn’t have any official plushies.

- it isn’t until you buy one online that he kinda cares.

- He treats that plushie like it’s your son. He has a pillow on the living room couch that is HIS pillow. No one can use it, not even guests.

Fushiguro Toji

- He hates it.

- He thinks they’re creepy. He’s never liked stuffed animals ever since he was a kid. None of your kids even have stuffed animals outside of like, 1 teddy bear each.

- Everytime you enter the room he is practicing wrestling moves on the poor thing with your son. You’re just happy you got a good quality one cause it had lasted through some rounds of combat.

Ryomen Sukuna

- I imagine him also being a child star but his career took off when him and his younger brother (Yuuji’s actor) starred in a drama together.

- They did not fight the twin allegations. Sukuna is older though by 5 years. As they’ve gotten older, they’ve gotten easier to differentiate.

- He straight up stole his brother’s Yuuji plush and drew Sukuna’s tattoos on it.

-Combined you two have five plushies:

A pillow one that he uses as a back rest. Two keychain versions. The drawn on Yuuji plush. And an ugly one that got messed up in manufacturing that is your personal favorite.

- He is essentially a plushie thief, if you lend it to him you will never see it again. He is currently has the second most Choso plushie count cause he keeps stealing others. Yours included!

[damiansgoodgirll]

can u write abt jude defending the reader and also comforting her

jude bellingham x reader

tw : angst? not a main character death but still…

no one can compare

dating jude bellingham took a big change on your life. you went from having 45 followers to have more than a million. you went from being no one to being someone. you went from posting normal selfies to posting professional photos that photographers took of you. you went from working underpaid jobs to work with important brand as nike and gucci.

you knew that everything you had was because of jude and you couldn’t be more grateful. he didn’t mind about you getting important deals because everything he wanted was too see you happy and so if being the face of an important brand made you happy he would tell you to go for it.

he was your number one supporter and you were his. he always reposted everytime you got a deal done and you attended every single one of his matches.

you were like the “it” couple and fans loved you.

well, not all jude’s fans.

a big part of his fan base was made of teenage girls who absolutely hated you and they wanted you to know that.

you couldn’t even post a normal picture on instagram that you would receive comments like “she’s so ugly” “why is jude dating her?” “he could have better” “she was nothing before him” “she only uses him for money”…

the thing was, it wasn’t a normal picture. you posted a picture for your best friend who passed away a few days before. you thought people would understand the situation but that didn’t stop them from saying mean things on you.

that’s how you found yourself laying on the bed and all covered in blankets, drying your tears away while you were going through the comments.

jude was in the bathroom next door and he definitely heard you sniffling. he knew about the comments, he read those comments on the pictures he posted with you and even if he asked his fans to stop the harassment it felt like they wouldn’t even care and that made him ten times angrier.

he carefully opened the bedroom door, not trying to upset you more and went to sit on the bed, in the spot right next to you.

“hey love…” he gave you a sad smile when he saw your red eyes “please…give me your phone baby” he slowly went to get the phone out of your hands and you simply let it fall.

“why are people so mean? my best friend just passed away and all these people can say is how i look fake to their eyes” you cried “i couldn’t care less about what they say about me…but saying things under my best friend’s post? where is the respect everyone is preaching?” you let yourself cry in his arms.

“i know baby…i know you’re hurting” he kissed your head while his hands went on your back.

“it’s not only that…it’s just…everything i do seems to upset them…i know they’re your fans but what have i done to them for make them hate me so much?” you sniffled a little.

“absolutely nothing baby…you’re so perfect and beautiful and they wish they were you…they wish they were here with me instead…they’re jealous and insecure so they feel the need to hurt you and make you feel like they feel about themselves” he told you “they’re jealous because i chose you, not them” he kissed your cheek “and they’re jealous because they can’t compete with you…you’re so kind and beautiful and god, i love you so much darling…no one can compare to you, i love you and only you…” he wiped your tears away and gently posed his lip over yours “you’re my everything…”

“i love you so much jude…thank you”

“you don’t have to thank me baby, it’s the truth…that’s the whole reason i chose you and not them…you’re ten thousand times better” he said and you smiled a little.

he then let you snuggle on his chest while his hands held you closer to his body, gently stroking your hair as you both ended up watching some stupid show on his laptop.

[gleasonlovesjasontodd]

jason todd head cannons i have part four

after a while of dating when y’all go out on a dates or just a walk you “accidentally forget your jacket” and jason being the gentleman and wonderful boyfriend he is gives you his jacket but eventually he starts to catch on that you purposely left your jacket at home and doesn’t even mine cause he loves seeing you in jacket and it brings you comfort (i believe he has a leather jacket obviously but also a nice black winter coat).

he knows every freckle, mole, and scar on your body and don’t you dare ever call it ugly because

after a while of dating y’all move in and he would let you decorate the apartment because he’s doesn’t care what it looks like all he cares about is coming home from patrol and seeing you asleep waiting for him because you are his home

i believe he has good eyesight which is good because i personally can’t see

100% carries your shopping bags

i believe when he comes home from patrol and is entering through the window he knocks down the photos you have and tiny knickknacks and he curses at himself because he doesn’t wanna wake you up but you wake up anyway and glare at him and he just looks at you and is like maybe move them 😭

this is for my people who watches gossip girl iykyk 🤭🤭 i believe you would make him a sweater and sew your initial info on the sleeve with a little heart so that he is always wearing your heart on his sleeve and he would cherish that so hard and want to wear it everyday even when it’s hot outside

i believe he sleeps closer to the door for protection. ( i can’t remember if i said this yet)

definitely calls you sweetheart

this man will listen to you ramble on about anything yall could be laying down in bed and. you could be rambling about gossip that your friends told you or listen to you talk about your tv show and he will listen because he loves you so much i believe his hand would be on your waist the whole time and he’s aski questions so that you know he’s listening

at his safe houses that he has all over gotham pictures of you on his nightstand this man loves you so much you have no idea

doesn’t like to take any type of pain killers because he’s afraid he will get addicted

you help him with his blonde streak help him touch it up

he loves kissing you from behind your cheek, your neck, temple,

i just can’t get over how soft he is with you but when he’s out on patrol or with bruce dick he is cursing being sarcastic and all tuff but when he comes home to you just a big softie

this is kinda a spicy thought definitely believe he can take your bra off with one hand

THATS ALL I HAVE I’M SORRY THIS IS BAD I AM VERY TIRED BUT I KNEW I HAD TO POST THIS TONIGHT FOR YALL ALSO I MADE A INTRO PAGE LIKE ALL THE OTHER WRITERS ITS NOT SUPER CUTE BUT I TRIED xoxo gleason 🎀🎀

[cheeeeseburger]

Dream girl Part 2

Part 1 Part 3

Sidney Crosby x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to everyone who asked for a part 2, I had no intention to write one but here we are, and I might even be working on another part! Also, it is canon that Sidney Crosby knows what a finsta is. Anyway, English isn't my first language, enjoy!

It’s not funny how much he thinks about you. A small, twenty minutes interaction at a random event was enough to leave him wanting more, so much more. We’re talking wedding and six kids, more.

Your smile, your charm, your brain: you have completely ruined Sidney for any other girl, ever. His DMs are full of Instagram models and women confessing their love, but no one would ever compare to you.

It’s more than an obsession, at this point. It sounds creepy, but Sid only allows himself the occasional perusal of your social media account from his own finsta. He checked your boyfriend’s account, but there weren’t any photos of you there. This was typical rookie behaviour, trying to look as available as possible to gain attention and maybe a few hookups during away games. As much as he enjoys his privacy, if you were his, you would be plastered all over his account. But before that, he would have to make an account, or at least a public one. Wait, no. No posts. He wants to keep you to himself.

Anyway. This isn’t the point. The truth is, Sidney wants to kill his teammate. Or at least, make you realize that you’re dating an idiot. Or, even better, make you fall hopelessly in love with him.

In theory, this isn’t an easy task, as there are many obstacles in the way, like the fact that you’re too loyal to your boyfriend. Nonetheless, that doesn’t stop Sid from trying.

“Are you even old enough to be here?” Sidney asks you playfully. He’s been observing you all night, trying to catch you alone. You finally made your way to the bar. Sid had been watching your boyfriend from the corner of his eye, and he seemed busy. He was clear to make any move he wanted, even though it went against every principle in the book. You looked so good, with a top that showed off your cleavage nicely and miniskirt barely covering your ass. He wants to make you sit on his lap and raise his hand from your calf all the way to your underwear. He bets his fingers would come off soaking wet.

“Of course! We aren’t in the States, remember? This is Canada baby!” Sid follows your throat with his eyes as you throw your head back in laughter. He doesn’t miss the innuendo that you’d be too young to drink back in Pittsburgh. He notices that you’re definitely starting to get tipsy, a little bit drunk even. He also notices that he really, really likes it when you call him baby, even though he’d rather be a daddy.

Okay, the making-you-fall-in-love-with-him-game starts now.

Sid chuckles. “True that. Let me buy you a drink then.” He takes a mental picture of you to add to his collection. You look especially gorgeous tonight, but your outfit is clearly missing a necklace with the letter “S” and a big diamond your left hand. A few hickeys on your neck would also be a nice touch.

You offer him a smile that makes Sidney’s heart feel like a ball in a Plinko game. “That’s very nice, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. I was just here to get some water, actually. My boyfriend doesn’t like it when I’m drunk.” He doesn’t miss the sadness in your eyes after that last comment.

“Oh really? Why not?” You sigh and Sidney wants to pick you up and comfort you until your life is nothing but sunshine, lollipops and rainbows.

“He says that I’m too needy when I’m drunk, even though I have never ever drunk enough to throw up or to even be annoying, at least I think.” You roll your eyes then add, blushing: “I also have the tendency to forget my manners and get up to dance on tables, so maybe it’s for the best.” You shouldn’t have added that last part. Now, all Sidney’s picturing is you in that exact outfit, dancing on the bar, Coyote Ugly style. It’s a wicked image, one that will keep him awake for many nights to come.

He tries to regain his composure and manages to get a sentence out: “That’s too bad. I would have liked to see you up on tables, dancing the night away. I would pay for that.” Your beautiful eyes turn as big as saucers. You flush instantly, and it’s the cutest thing he has ever seen. He likes making you blush. He wants to see you in a lingerie set that exact colour, only for him to rip it off you with his teeth.

“I wouldn’t make you pay. I’d even strip for you, if you’d ask me to.” You gasp at your own words and Sid’s forgotten how to talk. He stares at your pretty mouth, slightly open from the shock.

“I mean, if I didn’t have a boyfriend, of course! And only if you wanted to! I mean, not that you'd want to!” You seem to want to crawl under the bar from embarrassment. Sid just finds it cute.

"Sweet, you know I want to." He winks, and your cheeks are as red as a Habs jersey.

“ Well… Maybe one more drink wouldn’t hurt?”

Through the obstacles, Sid seems to be making progress. He's getting closer and closer to being your dream man. He purposely befriends the rookie, only to get closer to you. It’s a really shitty move, but he’s lost all his morals. It works, because he can now gather info from your boyfriend, and also evidence that’s he’s not good for you. He notes every time he seems him talking to another girl or even leaving his hotel room in the middle of the night.

Sidney thinks about you constantly. He replays all the interactions he has had with you in his head like a carousel. He wants to buy a subscription of you. Since he can’t, he dreams of you.

In his dreams, you call on him like a siren would to a sailor. He hears your voice, then smells the hints of jasmine in your perfume before he sees you. You’re dressed exactly like you were that night that he first met you, but unlike that time, you’re alone. Sidney gets closer to you, and you grab him by the collar and caress his cheek.

“I want you, Sidney Crosby, but I especially love you.” Then, he puts his hands on your waist while you lock yours behind his neck. He bends down to your height, and he barely has the time to savour the taste of your lips before he wakes up.

It’s always at four in the morning and he wakes up drenched in sweat, sheets all messed up and with a desire he knows he won’t be able to turn off unless he does something about it. The next morning, he goes to training and talks to the rookie, acting like he didn’t beat himself to the thought of his girlfriend professing her love to his captain.

And when he notices that you go out of your way to talk to him at events and that you always smile when your eyes meet his?

Yeah, he was one step closer to being your dream man.

[annislittleshopofhorrors]

You know, I love your blog and your funny/shady comments about 🐟 unable to handle her husband getting the attention and not her.

But I’ll admit, I always laughed it off because we can say that but nobody really knows what’s happening.

Until yesterday. LMAO. I know, I’m sorry for not really listening to some of y’all… but she needs some serious help and for once, to put down her goddamn phone.

I also realized that I knew she was going to try and do something to put the attention back on her and nothing she does on IG is ever a coincidence. This is the actions of a very manipulative but also very stupid individual with narcissistic tendencies. To her five asskissers, look away.

She follows that light and dwell designer the day after people made fun of her for showing her PT apt (btw, now I wonder if she was hoping people would think it was the house her husband was allegedly building for her in PT like some blogs believe)

When that didn’t work, follow this designer lady back after months (funny how she does this quite often when she’s not getting the attention she wants).

Follows some random directors. She still wants a job. That custom ugly furniture ain’t gunna pay for itself!

Posts a random photo dump of suggestive photos to indicate nothing but also making sure the ones who care will try and figure out if she’s in MA, NY, NYC, Canada, Wherever the narrative of where she lives fits.

meanwhile, her husband is in NYC filming with his attractive female costar who is much more well known than her (even if it’s the nepo baby comments) and has two films of her own coming out this month and her Madame web movie is still doing pretty well on Netflix.

Their pap photos are much better received by the general public and have comments shipping them and wishing they were together instead. Yikes!! Also…they actually do look good together. They fit.

Btw, I don’t think 🐟 is jealous of Dakota because of Chris. TBH, I don’t think she’s into her “husband” at all. From her actions, she doesn’t care about him or his well being. She cares about what his name can do for her. That’s it. And right now his name is being lumped with Dakota and not hers and I think it’s pissing her off. She needs to get those cheap outfits comped one way or another and her Liberia film isn’t cutting it. Miumiu not calling her back and nobody wants to see her in a solo pap walk….so.

Sorry to all the team asslickers on here but even you have to admit yesterday was a hilarious show your ass moment.

Sidenote: I like to think CE is putting on a bigger effort to look like he likes Dakota because Celine song is directing this film and he wants to do well for her. And also, he seems to simply just like Dakota. She’s pretty hilarious in her own right when she’s not being a flat actress 🤣 and maybe…just maybe, he wants to show you all whose watching that he does know how to act like he’s in love with someone. He just didn’t want to the last time he was in that park.

😉❤️

Yep, she doesn't care about him (and I don't think he cares about her). It's all about using his name to be mentioned in some gossip magazines. Otherwise these magazines wouldn't talk about her. And even the Portuguese magazines have to mention him when they talk about her. The Portuguese people don't care about her. I'm not even sure if they know her name.

[kaiijo]

Hi! I was curious about your thoughts of prompt #9 from the ugly prompts list with Shidou! I feel like it would be a total mess and absolutely hysterical 😋😁

OVERNIGHT ENGAGEMENT — SHIDOU RYUSEI

pairing: shidou ryusei x gn! reader content: set in this universe (pr manager! reader + pro soccer player! shidou), references alcohol consumption + hazy memory due to drinking notes: inspired by prompt 9 on this list (tweaked a little)

It’s entirely too warm in your bed, which, you think, shouldn’t be possible given that you always keep the window screens in, even in the dead of winter. You blink your eyes blearily, wincing when the light glow of early morning sunlight reaches you. You squint at the side table; that’s funny, you can’t remember having a mahogany side table. You also don’t remember getting dark blue sheets. Something shifts behind you, and you glance over your shoulder. You don’t remember inviting Shidou into your apartment.

Wait a minute…

You shoot up abruptly, head pounding, and do your best to survey what is definitely not your bedroom. You peek over at Shidou again and dread fills you. Fuck, what the hell did you two do? You venture a very cautious gaze under the sheets and are relieved to find both of you still in your underwear (and upon further inspection, you realize you’re wearing one of Shidou’s old soccer jerseys). It still doesn’t quell the building anxiety within you.

Beside you, Shidou’s hand blindly feels around the sheets before landing on you and, with a surprisingly strong grip for someone who is half-asleep, yanks you back down. He moves to curl around you, burying his face into your neck. You squirm when you swear you feel teeth graze your skin.

“Shidou!” you hiss, smacking his arm. “Wake up!” He mumbles something and his hold only tightens around you, but you feel his smile curl against your neck and you just know this bastard isn’t asleep. “Get up!” He doesn’t move and you resolve to do your best to grab your phone off the side table, hoping there’s something that will jog your memories.

You’re greeted with dozens of texts, missed calls, and social media alerts. You decide to click the most recent notice, a comment from a former classmate you haven’t talked to in years on the most recent Instagram post you don’t remember making. 

congrats on the engagement!!

Your blood runs cold and you stare at the post in horror. There’s a sparkly band around your left ring finger and tagged in the post is none other than the man beside you, Shidou Ryusei. When you look at your hand in front of you — the real flesh and bone one — you see the same ring from the photo. 

“Shidou!”

He finally deigns to sit up, blanket pooling around his waist and you try your best not to take a second glance at his well-toned chest and abdomen. He gives you a smirk, eyeing you, and he says, “You look good in my clothes.”

Your face bursts into flames and you huff, “Not the time, Shidou! Do you remember anything about what happened last night?”

He tilts his head. “Not really. Remember meeting you for drinks—”

Right, you two got drinks after a hard won victory of PXG against Real Madrid. And did shots, a lot of shots. Fuck. Shidou hums as he scoots closer to you, tugging on your (his) jersey and he says, “Wish I could remember more of this.”

You gulp as when he rests his chin on your shoulder, but you don’t pull away. He reaches around you and plucks your cell phone out of your hand, taking a look at the post you have open. You feel his breath hitch and you’re not sure what to expect as he then grabs your left hand and inspects it. He’s way too quiet, which honestly scares you more than when he’s yelling and kicking, but then Shidou grins wide. “Well, well, what do we have here?”

“Shidou…”

“Where do you want the wedding to be? I, personally, am a fan of a beach wedding.”

“Shidou—!”

“Think Underlashes will be my best man?”

“Shidou, focus,” you yelp, ripping your hand from his grip. “We need to fix this!”

“I think you need to fix this,” he says. “That’s what PR agents are for, right?”

This fucking jerk. But he isn’t wrong and you groan, throwing your phone further down the bed and flopping back down, staring at the ceiling. How were you going to maneuver your way out of this one?

“Hey,” Shidou says, laying back down and turning to face you. He uses a surprisingly gentle grip on your jaw to make you look at him. “I think we should keep it. We were going to get together eventually anyways. Just skipped a few steps.”

You glare at him and he just pokes your nose, snickering when you wrinkle it and slap his hand away. What the hell were you going to do? Then, another thought dawns on you: “Shidou, please tell me you bought this ring.”

[melanieph321]

heyy i love your writing and just wanted to say i appreciate your work💖

my request is something like you are best friends with fermin (or gavi) and he’s madly in love with you but you don’t know about it so when you start seeing someone (possibly another footballer) he gets jealous and does something outrageous like posts a story with a photo of yours which is odd considering he’s never done it before and the person you’re seeing gets mad and you also get mad because it’s obvious he’s doing it for another reason and have an argument with him when he confesses his true feelings in a moment of weakness which causes you to take a step back but you soon realize you’re actually more into him than you knew and go to him late at night and make out

i don’t know if this is something you’d be interested in but i’d love to read it

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUEST (DAY 2)

Ugh, I hate you for making such a good request. Took me all day to finish this. And I had to make it a four part series since I put my own spin on it. Hope that's okay.

Fermin Lopez x Reader - You or Me Part 1/4

Part 2 part 3 part 4

Enjoy!

It was just a silly youth camp for all the Barca Academy's boys and girls. How it turned out so ugly, you had no idea.

It was a Friday morning when all of the players were put on a bus to a Boot Camp four hours outside of Barcelona. You were thankful that the academy boys did not share the same bus as the girls, but trailed in their own vehicle not too far behind. However it was bound to get messy at the camp grounds since the girls and boys were sharing the same hotel.

"Who are you texting?" Camilla asked.

"No one." You muttered, but nudged your phone out of her view.

"Come on, don't be shy, tell me who you're texting."

You perked up, peering over your seat to make sure that none of the other players could hear you. "Okay but promise not to tell anyone." 

"I promise." She grinned, giddy with excitement.

"Alejandro Garnacho."

"What! You little…"

"Shhhhh!" You exclaimed, slapping your hand against Camilla's mouth. However, 

that did not stop her from running her mouth behind the palm of your hand.  

"Huh?" You frowned, her mumbles inaudible. You removed your hand.

"I said, doesn't he have a girlfriend now?"

"And a baby." You nodded.

Camila gasped. "You slut!" 

"Relax." You said, leaning back in your seat. "We're just friends and you know that. We've been friends forever."

"Yes, but before that you had the biggest crush on him, no?"

"Yes, but that's in the past. He's happy in England with his new family. I told you about last summer, didn't I? Garnacho and his girlfriend let me stay with them while I was over there trying out for Manchester United's U21 youth team. Garnacho and I have become really close since then. Close friends." You added, before Camilla could call you a slut again. 

The two of you sat back in silence. The road ahead was bumpy and almost made you car sick. Good thing you and Camilla were seated up front where you could see the road. You dreaded sitting in the back, since some of the girls thought it would be funny to make faces at the boys bus trailing behind you. They were having a laugh, however you found it very annoying.

"Did you hear that Fermin and Gavi are joining us on Saturday?" Camilla said.

"Hurray….." You mumbled and kept scrolling through your phone.

"I know." She snorted. "They've gotten pretty stuck up since they started playing for the first team, but I've heard that they're holding a seminar on mental health. It could be fun?"

"Mental health?" You put down your phone to glance at Camilla. Her lips twitched into a smile seeing your not-so-convinced expression. "I know Fermin Lopez of all people is not holding a seminar on mental health." you laughed. "That boy has caused me nothing but severe anxiety and depression and now he wants to talk about mental health? I guess pigs do fly."

"I dunno." Camilla shrugged. "Don't you think he has matured since he started playing for the first team? I know Gavi has."

"Please, don't get me started on Pablo Gavi." You sighed. "Fermin and Gavi were the worst of the worst when they were playing for the academy. Don't you remember Boot Camp 2019?"

Camilla chuckled. "Whatever you say. I for one am excited."

And she had the right to be. No one enjoyed drama more than Camilla. This year's Boot Camp had nothing but drama.

Part 2

Part 3

part 4

[btsficsandsuch]

I Know I Look Good, but That’s No Reason to be This Upset

You have insecurities after seeing how good your boyfriend looks in a Calvin Klein ad. Jungkook does his best to cheer you up in his own way.

Mentions of insecurities. Some hints of adult themes.

You watched the video over and over. Your boyfriend Jungkook dancing through a parking garage shirtless with a loose tie around his neck. He looks incredible. You’re going through comment after comment saying how sexy he is, how good he looks, how incredible his abs are, and so on. You know that you should be happy as you’re the person that this man comes home to everyday but you can’t help but take a hit to your self-esteem and your insecurities were starting to rear their ugly head.

You had just started getting over the first drop of photos from the Calvin Klein shoot that made you feel absolutely awful about yourself. Jungkook always tried his hardest to make sure you knew how beautiful you were and that he only had eyes for you, but there was always this thought in the back of your mind that you couldn’t get rid of. You felt that he deserved someone prettier. Someone with abs and curves in all the right places. Seeing him look like a legit model with people all over the world drooling over him made you realize just how “plain” you were. You saw yourself as just average on a good day and when you were feeling down, like right now, you couldn’t even dare to look at yourself in a mirror and you definitely didn’t understand how Jungkook could even look at you.

For some reason you just couldn’t turn your laptop off. You played the ad over and over, each time a little piece of your self-esteem drifting away. Before you know it there were tears rolling down your face. You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking of all the reasons Jungkook would be so much better without you. He should be with another idol or even a model. Someone he could be proud to be seen with. The fans knew about you two and at first things were rough with hateful comments and posts but after Jungkook went live and gave them a stern talking to explaining that he loved you and them being mean towards you wouldn’t change anything they did start to treat you better, for the most part. You still got the occasional comment saying how ugly you were or that Jungkook could do so much better. Usually you could just ignore them except when you felt like this. You start to think back to every hurtful comment and post you’ve seen, including the few under the ad asking what this man sees in you. More and more you start to believe them.

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t hear Jungkook walk into the room. He slowly makes his way behind you hoping to scare you in a playful way but then he notices your shoulders shaking and he can hear your sniffles. He looks at your laptop screen and sees his ad playing on loop. He can also see some of the comments saying not so nice things about you. Deep down he knows why you’re crying but he’s hoping he can cheer you up with some humor. “”Aww Y/N, are you crying tears of joy at the fact that you get to sleep next to a stud like that every night?”, he says startling you.

You quickly wipe away the tears that have fallen and chuckle, “Oh yeah, I’m just over the moon.” Jungkook walks around and sits next to you on the couch wrapping his arm around your shoulder, “Y/N tell me what’s really wrong?” You shake your head not wanting to involve him in your insecurities, “Nothing, I’m fine. I just got a little emotional.” Jungkook knows you better than you think. He smiles, “I know I look good Y/N but that’s no reason to be this upset.” You smile at his attempts to make you laugh. You lean into him resting your head on this shoulder, “Why are you with me Kookie? Do you ever wish you could have someone else?”

Jungkook squeezes you a little tighter, “Never Y/N. If I didn’t want to be you I wouldn’t. That’s 100% the truth.” You look up at your boyfriend and you can see the sincerity in his eyes but you still need reassurance, “Do you mean that? Sometimes I just think you could do so much better but I think you’re too nice to leave.” He softly wipes away at the last few tears left on your cheeks, “Y/N I think you’re beautiful. Everything you hate about yourself I find a reason to love. There isn’t anything about you I would change.”

Slowly with his words you begin to feel better. Jungkook closes the laptop and slides it under the couch so that it’s out of site and out of mind. He grabs your hand and starts to pull you towards the bedroom. “Kookie what are you doing?”, you ask with a giggle. “Well I’m currently wearing all this Calvin Klein merchandise.”, he says showing you the band of his underwear. “And since it seems to make you so upset I thought maybe you could come help get it off of me.”, he says with a smirk and a wink before pulling you even faster to the bedroom.

[skazoo]

slow and blue and endless.

↳ kim taehyung x f!reader

someone stared at you through the window. you had always felt safe in your own home, shutting out the scary, real world. but a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily.

length. 1.7k

genre. angst, yandere

warnings/tags. language, obsessive behavior, implied stalking, yandere themes, mind break, emotional manipulation, love bombing(?), mention of mental illnesses, physical violence, kinda gruesome allusion to murder, dark themes overall, minors advised to dni.

networks. none for this.

notes. [THIS IS A REPOST BC TUMBLR TAGS WON'T WORK AND I ALMOST CRIED<;3]

GAH these photos are so 80s serial killer making a creepy videotape that's gonna get edited in a true crime documentary coded...... i know you're seeing my vision, i KNOW it.... anywayyyyyy this is kinda not proofread, and i wrote it while i was supposed to be studying for my exams a while back!! because when am i inspired if not when i shouldn't be?? i hope you like it and i swear something is almost ready for me to publish please wait a little longer (for my engenes and atiny besties)

⚠️ it goes without saying that i in no way condone any obsessive/stalking/creepy/violent behavior and despite this being "x reader" i'm not in any way romanticizing anything i'm writing. also this, as you all know, is fiction and names are merely a narrating mean. ⚠️

i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!

(cross-posted on ao3 only)

navigation

in a way you’ve always loved him. he knows. you don’t even have to say it out loud for him to be happy. 

but sometimes it feels like you take him for granted. sometimes you make him really, really angry and that, he can’t let pass. and it's not for his sake but for yours. always everything for you. he has to make you understand that there are things you can’t do if you want to stay safe from the outside world. safe from him, sometimes.

running away is one of those ugly, wretched things you know well he hates, and he slams you against the wall and drags you back through the front door into the house by your hair, he bashes your head on the kitchen counter, near the fire of the stove he’s been preparing lunch with to make you understand a concept you're apparently too dumb to grasp.

“what the fuck did i tell you about running, uh?” seething with undiluted rage .

“i just wanted to go outside, tae. i swear!”

“i said what the fuck did i tell you about running!? do you understand how much it would hurt me to see you go?!” his voice booms inside the walls of your head, an endless echo that makes bitter tears gather at the back of your eyes and spill over.

your face is burning. tongues of fire lick at your cheeks, a scorching caress that reminds you of taehyung's. his palm always leaves a brand behind, reminding him and yourself that he’s there. 

your hands scramble for his in a miserable attempt to lessen his hold. “i’m sorry, tae! so sorry, please! please!”

his closed fist in your hair pushes your head closer to the heat. “i’ll fucking kill you if i have to, you know that right–” it’s not a question, merely a promise, but you nod anyway, frantically, desperately– “they’ll never stop finding your body, baby. do you understand?” he screams and shakes you with his hands tight in your hair when you only cry in response.

“i said,” leaning in, mouth brushing over your ear. chills go down your back as his voice turns sickeningly mellow as if he’s whispering sweet nothings instead of threats, “do you understand?”

“yes! yes! god, yes i understand! tae, i’m so sorry! it’s all my fault! it’s all my fault!”

your mindless babbles seem to humor him and he moves your head at a safer distance. “and why is that?”

“ ‘twas my fault! i put myself in danger if i run. tae, please! i’m so sorry!” 

and you cry and cry and cry until you have nothing to give. until there’s only emptiness in your head that’s resting on his shoulder. until his shushes really feel reassuring. until he sits you down at the table to eat the lunch he prepared, the one that was so close to killing you. you nibble on it, too weak to really even taste the flavors.

he breaks the empty silence between you with a question. you startle at the sound of his voice and force your heavy eyes to focus on him.

“aren't you curious? about why i chose you?”

“no.”

he scrunches his eyebrows and regards you with a slightly displeased look that has you shrinking back on your chair. 

“but i want to tell you…” he whines.

you don’t say anything about his antics. despite him behaving like a child you’re terrified of what his reaction would be if you actually treated him like one, so you press your lips together and wait. 

“i like people that like me.” and it’s so simple how he says it. obvious, even.

“but why do you think i like you?” quietly, meekly.

he seems to like the question, his boxy smile one full of teeth that in other circumstances you would have found endearing. now it only makes him look like a predator, an animal, drool dribbling down his fangs, jaw ready to snap close around your neck if —and ultimately, when— you say or do the wrong thing. 

“oh, i was so happy, Y/N,” he coos, your name curling in his mouth with ease, as if you’re always been around each other, as if it belongs there, “that when i chose you, you came with me.”

your mouth gapes open at the absurdity of it all. you wonder if he really thinks that you wanted all of this, that you wanted to be taken from your home. you’d ask your old psychology professor if you’d be correct to label him as a narcissist of sorts. a man with too much power, and free time, and loneliness to exhaust all on himself that he had to go around looking for a scapegoat for his secret misery.  

“i didn’t– i didn’t come to you, taehyung. i didn’t have a choice.”

“so you were almost forced to come?”

“no,” it comes out more as a question than an answer and you lower your head in search of a way to rationalize the conversation at hand, “i was completely forced–”

“that’s what you tell yourself,” he retorts before you can even finish your sentence.

“it’s what i know is true,” you spit somewhat offended by his insinuation.  

his smile is a sick thing when you raise your head from the food on your plate —cold and uninviting. the smell alone makes you want to throw up. 

“are you sure?”

your anger leaves space for an unnerving sense of confusion. “what does that– what?”

your frown deepens as you watch him play around with his lunch. you follow his hands pushing back his glasses on his nose. the sick look of complacency that dances on his face seems to speak words that make the hairs at the back of your neck raise in dreadful anticipation. i know something about you that you don’t, his eyes say, and that alone is enough to make you want to scream.

he knows nothing!, you’d be shouting to the usually calm neighborhood, i haven’t told him anything about myself. he can’t know anything! he knows nothing! he knows nothing! you’d holler to the kids walking home from school hand in hand with their mothers who’d be looking at you with contempt, unaware of who lives among them. a wolf in sheep's clothing that could easily make you look like a psychopath. 

you’d do it, you swear to yourself that you’d do it all if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve got the inkling fear that you’ve truly gone mad. the doubt that crawls on your back and makes its way in your ears, slithering then, with much glee into your delusional brain.

how long have you been in this house? his house or the one you bought together once you finished college? did you meet him on a slow rainy day outside a coffee shop or did you catch him staring at you from the window before he broke in and took you from your bed, leaving behind torn sheets and a broken frame with a picture of your friends? does your mind deceive you? are you sane? is he?

it feels like you've had this exact same conversation with him an infinite number of times, always stuck in a loop of unease and sadness that you really can’t explain. loving looks sent your way melt into scary grimaces sometimes and all you can feel is guilt because that’s tae. your tae. the man you chose, the man that chose you.

you realize your vacant eyes are crying when you feel a thumb swipe your cheek with a gentleness that makes your stomach churn in disgust and again a voice tells you that there’s something wrong with you.

“baby, are you alright?”

the way you look at him does nothing to the sick warmth brewing in his stomach. your shiny little doe eyes peeking up at him from under wet lashes, asking for forgiveness that taehyung would never deny you. nose red from the frustration of being lost in your own mind and mouth parted as if to ask him to show you the way, the truth that you seem to have lost.

he stands up and rounds the table to you for you to bury your head in his chest. sobs shake your tired form.

“shh, it’s okay, baby. i swear everything it’s okay. it happens to forget.”

“i’m sorry, tae,” you plead through broken breaths. “i’m so sorry, please.”

he shushes you. lips plant themselves in the crown of your head, a hand rubs at your back soothingly.  

later, in the late evening, you lie in your bed. a bed. the sheets smell of him and the air you breathe does not feel like the one you're used to, but you’re calm. you think you are. maybe.

soft snores sound from behind you and you attempt to turn your head to make sure it’s him. 

“tae?” you let out a whisper. not one that expects itself to be heard.

“yeah?” voice hoarse from sleep.

“nothing.”

he buries his nose in the hair at the nape of your neck, inhaling the shampoo he bought for you. “what?”

“just wanted to make sure you were still here.”

“i’m always here, baby.”

you hum.

minutes pass slowly, like molasses, as if the hand of the seconds inside the alarm on your nightstand is fighting an invisible force, a wall of rubber that threatens to bounce time back. you think he’s fallen back asleep. breath slowing, chest heaving, lulling you to slumber.

you close your eyes. “tae?”

he doesn’t answer. a car alarm sounds from outside the closed curtains, its prolonged blaring bringing a certain agitation in your otherwise silent night. a breath of summer wind leaves bumps on your skin in its wake. you sigh and his arms tighten around your torso. an unconscious gesture, soft, loving.

“i dream of you–” you let your words sink into the air, into the boiling water you carry around in your lungs that doesn’t let you breathe properly, and you shiver again but not from the chill bite of the wind “–and it’s slow, and blue, and endless.”

behind you, taehyung’s mouth stretches into a smile.

in a way, you’ve always loved him. he’s certain of it now as he was before. and even if you didn’t, he will always make sure to make it a reality, one way or the other. wether you want it or not.

taglist: @taevestr @fa1ryjoons @vcutvante

[wileys-russo]

Absolutely love pollito , will you mind writer and the anon who send amazing hcs if I send a few hcs

1. Pollito is totally banned from social media like she is only allowed to post after they win a match . Because she has not so graceful photos of everyone that she likes to post randomly, unintentionally gives away transfer signing, and literally fights with everyone troll that insults her team or teammates. She can be seen in twitter comments fighting the trolls with no so beautiful words and is a nightmare for barca admin and her own management. So Alexia has taken control of her social media and passwords.

2. Pollito loves to learn new techniques and styles and she will join them to learn new things. If she sees anyone like Alexia , aitana , mapi , caro doing new things or shooting in the match she will force them to teach her and she develops it into new style

3. In the Olympics Alexia and irene were the one to stop pollito from pranking Montserrat and some madrid players with ice cubes and water( pollito does not like her at all). Alexis got wind of it and stopped her from committing the prank. Pollito was upset with the rat for making ona and aitana play all games with how tired they are and also for not playing ale because to pollito she is the best.

1. Pollitos instagram is basically just her second camera roll. she does a dump every week and it’s always of the most random photos of food, animals, flowers, ugly photos of her teammates, nice photos of her teammates, baby and youth photos of her teammates she finds, selfies, random videos on the bus or in the dressing rooms. Pollito has a very sarcastic sense of humour so she often replies to people trolling in a very sarcastic manner which gets her in trouble because she’s been told time and time again not to engage. she’s banned from twitter all together and she’s been warned if the instagram dumps don’t tone it down that alexia will change the password (Pollito has a finsta where the worst photos go anyway)

2. There isn’t a single training session ever where Pollito doesn’t stay back and beg someone (whoever posses a skill she wants to learn or better) to stay back with her for at least a half an hour, and if she’s unsuccessful then she stays herself and sometimes until someone has to physically force her inside to rest

3. Pollito is actually the secret owner of the “Montse Tome’s Diary” account on twitter (only Vicky knows and she would never rat out her bestie)

[watercolorsam-arts]

Why the Minecraft Movie looks so bad

Okay, let’s see if I can make this work

Hi, I’m Watercolor, currently a student learning animation and visual effects. I’ve got some more technical explanations for why exactly the trailer looks god awful

I’m gonna do my best to explain this in simple terms, but if I don’t explain something very good, let me know and I’ll explain more. Alright, this is gonna be a long post

Starting off with the obsession with backlighting. See how it doesn’t really match the environmental lighting? That’s one of the major things that makes it look so weird to a lot of people. It could have been done to better distinguish the actors from the background, but it does that a little too well and makes them look way too out of place. The environment has a very nice constant (most likely singular) light source, which is most likely an HDRI.

An HDRI (or high dynamic range image) informs the animation software on how the scene should be lit, and is often a weird panoramic image of whatever physical area you want to replicate.

In a reverse case, adding a CG character into a real set, you could take an HDRI of the physical set, and use it to apply similar lighting. Adjustment will most likely have to be hand adjusted by the lighting team (and tbh they add a lot of extra lights in anyway. It just needs to look right) but it’s a fantastic starting point for the compositing and lighting teams.

However, the McM’s live set has way different lights set up then what is seen in the environment.

Here, for example, the live set is most likely being lit by standard 3 point lighting, which are not only the wrong color (the lighting on the environment is much more yellow) but also washes out any shadows that would help define the actors. If this movie wasn’t obsessed with backlighting, you could fix that by lighting the actors and environment from the front, but because the sun is in the back, they have to make the front of the actors unnaturally brighter to see them more properly. I have a slight idea on why the kid in red looks especially “photoshopped” in, and it’s mostly because his hoodie doesn’t have a similar reflectiveness to everyone else’s outfit, and his hair is a more neutral color, causing the highlight to be even more washed out. Also, while we’re here, the cube is a physical prop, but it was not lit up during filming, and all the light output was tossed on after. And it’s really inconsistent and honestly, lazy. For the most part they just hit it with a blue blur effect in post, it doesn’t actually cast any light.

Another major issue is the color difference between the actors and the environment. The color balancing on the actors is particularly garbage, they’re somehow desaturated while also being too saturated, I don’t know how they managed that. But the technical issue on why it looks odd, is because the physical camera cannot physically pick up the same vibrancy as the “camera” in the CG world. You might have seen an example of this when trying to take a photo with your phone, especially of a very colorful event like the sunset. It’s also why “ugly sonic” looked particularly out of place, he was 10x more saturated than anything else around him.

Having the actors on a very low effort green screen stage also completely ruins any chance of getting the proper ambient light or ambient occlusion.

Ambient occlusion is basically the bounce light from other objects in your scene, gamers might know this as a form of ray tracing (ray tracing is live changes in ambient occlusion, games without ray tracing bake in ambient occlusion to get a similar result)

When everything is CG, (again art style aside) looks pretty darn good actually!

I attempted some edits to see if anything could make it look better (left is original, right is mine), and I don’t think proper lighting or anything could actually fix what this movie has wrong with it. They should have made the whole thing animated, I don’t think any amount of bullying would fix this, the studio basically has to scrap the actors, and make new CG characters from scratch in the same style as the rest of the world.

All of this is not the fault f the animators, or any of the vfx team, they did their absolute best with what they had, this is 100% the fault of the higher ups on this project. I have no idea how this good this far into production without ANYONE saying that it was a bad idea (Either that, or a lot of people got fired, which is unfortunately a likely possibility)

[ingravinoveritas]

The people that keep saying not to ship Michael and David together in real life because of their relationships to Georgia and Anna are also the same ones who keep begging to have the two girls appear in the next season of GO as a couple because of Anna’s little joke of making out with Georgia. Seriously people saw that tweet of hers and immediately decided to ship them together and call them the “ineffable wives” but Michael and David have come out with soooo much more adorable moments of the love and joy they have for each other and everyone starts saying that it’s disrespectful to ship them when their “married” to females in real life 🤷‍♀️ I mean…. The hypocrisy is astounding and disturbing on levels I can’t even comprehend. The fact that Georgia, who is known to search her and David’s name on Twitter and answers back to anyone that tags or even mentions her didn’t even acknowledge Anna’s tweet says sooooooo much about this “best friend dynamic duo”. The fact that Anna is resorting to jokes about kissing another woman just for attention also…. WHEW. If this isn’t the biggest cry for attention I don’t know what is. And the fact that people feed into her attempts also and are petitioning for them to kiss and show up in GO!

Lord. I've seen so much talk about casting female actresses in regard to fem-presenting Aziraphale/Crowley over the past week, and while it is disappointing, I am not at all surprised. The first inkling I had was upon seeing the reactions when a behind the scenes photo of Crowley as Bildad the Shuhite was posted just before the release of GO 2:

It seems that a lot of folks were expecting/hoping for fem!Crowley, as we saw in Golgotha in season 1 (on the right), and when that turned out not to be the case, the reaction was to call Bildad!Crowley ugly, to say that he should shave, and other comments essentially making fun of this particular look. Obviously, much of this could have (and likely was) made in jest, but the overall consensus was clear: You can't be feminine with a beard.

(Which...I'd like to see someone tell that to Michael Sheen, because yes, the fuck you can...)

So from the outset, I was already bothered by what seemed like the hypocrisy of on the one hand celebrating a show where the characters are genderfluid/nonbinary by definition, and then on the other hand getting upset when one character doesn't fit into a prescribed, conventional idea of femininity.

When Neil subsequently mentioned that there had been a storyline for female-presenting Aziraphale and Crowley in the 1960s, it was dismaying (but again, not surprising) to see these same fans casting female actresses in the roles. Never mind that you already had David playing female!Crowley and Nanny Ashtoreth in season 1. Never mind that both Michael and David have played...well, "drag" doesn't seem like exactly the right word, but they've played women, and brilliantly subverted gender roles in their own ways. There is no reason to think that they couldn't do a fabulous job as fem!presenting Aziraphale and Crowley, except that (again) some fans seem to have a specific idea of femininity that they think does not or cannot apply to Michael and David.

Which then brings us to the apparent clamoring for Anna and Georgia as female Aziraphale and Crowley, which has again left me scratching my head. In all of the tweets and hubbub, I have not seen one person say why they think AL and Georgia would do a good job in said roles--like, "Oh, Georgia was so good as [insert role]" or "I loved Anna as [insert role]"--only that they would be "so amazing." This leads me to think that the only reason these fans want AL and Georgia in the roles is because they are Michael and David's partners. They are assuming that this is somehow a guarantee of the same profound understanding of the characters and their connection, despite there being no evidence of such a correlation. (I mean...I fooled around with my former grad school professor last year, but that doesn't mean I have a PhD...)

What it also seems to indicate is that these folks are not thinking of what is best for the characters, either, or indeed if playing female!Aziraphale and Crowley is something AL or Georgia would even want to do. Neil recently said that Georgia turned down a role in GO 2 supposedly because the character was older than her and she didn't feel it was appropriate. If this is the case, why would Georgia want to play the role of a middle-aged character? Because that is what Aziraphale and Crowley are--ageless celestial beings, yes, but beings who have chosen to present as middle-aged. That is a key part of who they are, so to have the female versions of them played by younger actresses makes no sense and seems downright disrespectful.

There is also what you said, about AL's cringey tweet from a little over a week ago. Georgia could have absolutely responded to or acknowledged it by now, as she has responded to several other tweets since then...but she hasn't. Not a reply, not even a 'like.' And I agree with you that that seems to speak volumes, and that it would probably be a good idea if people looked beyond the Staged-driven narrative of "Georgia and AL are BFFs" to see how Georgia actually seems to feel about her.

(And to echo another thing you said, I will never understand how it is somehow completely fine for fans to ship Georgia and Anna/want to see them make out despite neither of them showing that level of affection toward each other or having any visible chemistry, yet not okay to ship Michael and David who do have that chemistry and have been making their feelings for each other very obvious for the last several years...)

So yes, those are my thoughts on the whole female Aziraphale/Crowley fancasting situation. I just hope that if we do get them as fem!presenting in season 3, that it is Michael and David, because there is no way any other two actors could give us what we got with Aziraphale and Crowley the way Michael and David did. I guess we'll see what happens...

[pensat-i-fet]

I chose you (Julián Álvarez x Reader)

**Got another Julián request recently and it’s always funny how easy it is to write for him. So hopefully it’s easy and enjoyable to read for all of you ❤️**

Word count: 1879

Masterlist

Wattpad

“Are you ok?”, asks my mum, and I can see the worry in her expression even through the screen.

“Yeah. Just not feeling 100% at the moment, you know?”

“Why? Are you sick or something?”

“No. I guess I’m just going through one of those moments where I don’t feel super confident or whatever. No specific reason. For all I know, it could just be the bad weather making me feel this way”.

“Is everything ok with Julián?”

I smile without even noticing. “Yes, mum. It’s nothing to do with him”.

“Well, I’ll still tell him to take better care of you so you don’t feel this way”.

“Mum, I’m a grown woman. I don’t need my boyfriend to take care of me”.

“We all need people to take care of us. Don’t forget that”.

I don’t want to admit it but I know she’s right. I’m always in my own head, not sharing how I feel and it can be a bit much sometimes.

“I’ll talk to Julián when he comes back”, I promise to myself before picking up my phone to waste my time on social media.

I see City have posted some photos, including one of Julián, so I like the post. Then I click on his profile and go to the tagged photos. I always love seeing all the photos of him that professional photographers take. I have an album full of them.

But I also see photos fans have posted. It seems like there are more girls taking photos with him after training. With him and all the others, but I only care about my boyfriend.

I’m not a jealous person. I’ve never been, honestly. It’s easy to say you aren’t but then your actions show the opposite. However, that’s not me. I don’t think I’d be able to deal with the stress if I was a jealous person and dating a football player.

So it’s not jealousy I feel while reading the captions they write for my boyfriend. Or seeing the videos where they try to hug him or kiss his cheek. But if it isn’t jealousy, then what is it?

I usually would just laugh it off. Julián himself tells me stories of these meetings whenever something funny happens, knowing how little I’ll care about their flirting with him.

Opening TikTok is probably the stupidest idea at the moment. Yet here I am wasting more time making myself feel ugly seeing all the gorgeous girls I follow for beauty and fashion inspo and getting annoyed at the edits Julián’s fans make for him.

“I’m so stupid”, I say, throwing the phone on the sofa before hiding underneath one of the blankets.

A couple of minutes later, Julián is back and starts to call my name. For a second, I think about pretending to sleep but he would notice the lie.

“I’m here”, I say in a small voice, getting my head out from underneath the blanket so he can see me.

“What are you doing there? Are you feeling alright?”

I nod, not wanting to worry him with my silly thoughts. “Just tired”.

“Well, I’m tired too. How about you move so I can fit next to you and we cuddle?”

“I’d like that”.

My promise to tell him about how I was feeling is gone the second I place my head on his chest. Because I have no reason to feel like this. I should be fine. This will pass soon.

                                    **

"So how was your day?, asks Julián while he sets the table for our dinner. We fell asleep on the sofa the moment we cuddled and didn't get to talk at all.

"Ok, I guess", I shrug.

"What did you do? You always tell me about the whole day. Come on, I want to know".

I'm usually excited to talk about my day. But not right now. "You know. Studied in the morning, face timed with my mum and then went to the sofa to nap".

"Everything ok with your parents?"

"Sure. Why do you ask?"

I can see him trying to find the right words. "I don't know. You seem a bit off. I thought maybe they gave you bad news or something".

"No. I'm just tired. I told you".

"Well, then you sit here", he says, putting his hands on my shoulders and guiding me to the chair. "And I'll finish getting everything ready".

"Thank you", I say, offering him a small smile. His is a lot bigger and after kissing my temple he goes back to the kitchen.

During dinner, he updates me on everything going on at the club and focusing my attention on someone else for a second helps me a lot.

"Feeling better?", he says, hopeful.

"Yes. I think I'll just take a shower before bed to help me relax".

"Go do that. I'll put this in the dishwasher".

I get up to go to the room and stop when I reach Julián to give him a hug.

"I love it when you're clingy like that".

This time the smile is bigger. It's easy to smile when he's around. It's when I'm alone with my thoughts that I struggle.

When I get out of the shower, I try to make a bit of an effort. It's not as if I have to impress Julián right now, but I need to impress myself, sort of.

Whenever I'm having these confidence issues or whatever they are, the first thing I drop is looking after myself. I struggle with simple things such as putting on moisturizer after the shower or picking cute outfits. And it only makes me feel worse in the end because I look worse. It's such a stupid cycle.

Julián is already in bed looking at his phone when I get back to the room. He puts the phone away the moment I get to the bed and puts one of his arms around my shoulders to bring me closer to him.

"You smell so good I could eat you".

I laugh. "You don't like coconut".

"Not the fruit. But I like it when you smell like this", he says, nuzzling his nose on my neck.

"Feel free to use the body butter if you want to smell like me", I joke.

"Wouldn't that make me too irresistible to other women?"

I roll my eyes at his bad joke. "I'll take the risk".

"Actually, I didn't tell you this funny story from today. These three girls asked for a photo when I was in my car and kept complimenting me, my clothes, my car …no subtlety", he laughs but I don't join him. "And then a kid showed up and they had to let him get closer and were so annoyed. They'll probably be there again tomorrow".

I don't say anything because what can I say? I already saw the photos and I thought the girls looked familiar. I guess they spend their days there.

"Hey, you ok?"

"Yes", I say, turning my back to him and pretending to get ready to sleep.

"What was that?"

"I'm sleepy. Good night".

"What did I do for you to react like…wait, are you jealous?"

"What?", I say, turning again to look at him.

"I told you about those girls and you got all weird. You have no reason to be jealous, you know that".

"I'm not jealous of any fangirls, Julián".

And I'm not, but my tone and my face make it sound like a lie. I hate this feeling.

I go back to my previous position and a couple of seconds later I notice Julián wrapping his arms around my waist and bringing me closer to his chest.

"It's you I want. Please know that".

"I know", I whisper. Maybe it's better if he thinks I'm jealous instead of having to dig deeper to explain everything else. "I love you".

"I love you too. Sleep well now. You'll feel better tomorrow after a good night's rest".

If only it were that easy.

                                      **

The next couple of days, Julián seems to be tiptoeing around my feelings and he doesn't bring up any meetings with fangirls. Actually, by checking Instagram, I've noticed one of them mentioned he didn't stop to attend them at all. I don't even know how I feel about that.

By the time he comes back from training, I'm back under the blanket and when he gets to the sofa, he moves it to see my face.

"You were worrying me so I spoke to your mum".

"What?", I say, sitting up.

"Well, you don't talk to me so I had to do something. I can't see my girlfriend hurting and do nothing".

"I just don't know what happens to me", I say, feeling the tears on the back of my eyes.

"It's not going to solve everything but sit here", he says, patting the spot between his legs. "So I can hold you while we try to make sense of it, ok?"

I nod, sitting there and letting him share his strength with me through this hug.

"It's just something that happens sometimes. I don't know if it's anxiety or something else. But I just feel like I'm not enough. Like all my confidence is gone. Like anything I have to do, no matter how small, demands too big of an effort from me".

"Ok. Does it usually take long for that feeling to go away?"

"It depends. It used to be worse when I was younger. Now it's usually a couple of days. Maybe a week and a half or something like that".

"And do you know anything that can make you feel better? Whatever it is, I'll make sure you have it".

"You".

He looks at me confused. "What do you mean?"

"I need you. You don't even notice how much you help me just by being you. It's when you're not around that it gets worse".

"That means a lot to me. But we need to find other ways to help. I wish I could always stay with you but I can't".

"I know", I say, hugging him tighter and placing my head on his chest.

"And you're sure there is no jealousy involved in this? It's ok if there is. I mean, I'm jealous of every man that talks to you".

I chuckle. "No, I'm not jealous. I guess what made me feel worse about those fans was their confidence. How they had no fear of going to talk with you guys and being so direct to you. I wouldn't be able to do something like that. Not in the state I'm in at the moment".

"You don't need to. Because I chose you a while ago. And I keep choosing you every day".

"But you didn't know all these issues were included in the package when you chose me. What if it gets too much for you? I don't want you to feel like you have to baby me".

"I'm not. I'm just looking after you like you look after me. Can you just let me do it? Let me look after you, please".

"Does looking after me include cuddles and watching my favourite movies while we eat ice cream?"

"Of course it does".

"Then count me in".

[agent-cupcake]

Crybaby

Pairing: Sylvain Jose Gautier x f!Reader

Synopsis: Sylvain likes making you cry, that's the plot.

Warnings: explicit smut, dub/noncon

Tags: dacryphilia, rough sex, dirty talk, slight infantilization

Word Count: 4.8k

Notes: This was a short little doodle that popped into my head while I was trying to sleep and then, and then, and then. I'm not sure I'll ever post the things I've been trying to work on but whatever, here's some good ole fashioned nastiness. Also trying to find good photos of Sylvain to use as a banner quickly got annoying so I gave up.

Pathetic, stupid girl. That’s all you were, and it was all you could think as you found yourself back in the same place you always went. Hiding from everybody else. Crying all alone because you couldn’t contain your emotions like a normal person. Running away. But even if it was juvenile and misguided and stupid, what else were you supposed to do? Quickly excusing yourself seemed a better alternative than letting everybody see a grown woman crying at her own party. Over the cruel antics of an infamously womanizing man, no less. 

Dabbing at your eyes, you tried to regain your composure. It shouldn’t have bothered you so much. You shouldn’t have let him get to you. He was mean, and cruel, and you were only giving him what he wanted by reacting like this.

You needed to go back to the party, to smile, and prove that you weren’t affected in the least. Stop being such a pathetic crybaby. Grow up. 

“Oh, there you are,” Sylvain said, his voice startling you out of your slump against the wall, all of the hairs on the back of your neck standing straight up and heart set to racing. 

How had he found you? Of all the hiding spots you had, this was your favorite for escaping from parties. It was your secret, your little alcove, an out-of-the way corner far away from the noise. He didn’t belong here. 

“Sylvain,” you acknowledged, unable to say anything else, your eyes darting behind him to your only possible escape. In your state, you had effectively cornered yourself. All alone with Sylvain. Again. 

“I was wondering where you ran off to. We all got worried when you ran off so fast.” He spoke as if he was relieved to find you. As if he hadn’t tracked you down on purpose. As if he were utterly ignorant to why you had run in the first place. 

“I don’t wanna talk to you,” you said, refusing to look him in the face directly because then he’d see your red cheeks, he’d see the tears clinging to your eyelashes and he already knew but you didn’t want to give him the pleasure of seeing it too. Hopefully the shadows covered the most damning evidence, although you weren’t sure it mattered. 

“I owe you an apology,” he said.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you said louder, glaring hard at his boots. 

“I know,” he said, raising his hands and eyebrows in innocence. So amiable, so approachable. So believable. “We don't have to talk, but I need you to know that I was just joking around earlier.”

“It’s fine,” you said curtly, desperate to refuse him any other reaction, hoping he’d get bored and leave it alone.

“I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“I’m not,” you told him, although the increasingly shrill tone in your voice said otherwise. You hated yourself for it, hated Sylvain for making you so upset. Hated the whole ugly, awful situation. 

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”  

The handle you had on your emotions had been weak to begin with, but that finally set you off, the horrible cruelty sending a rush of overwhelming, despairing dizziness right up to your head. “Yes you did!” you exclaimed, unable to hold your tongue even though you knew you should have. 

“No, I hate seeing you cry,” he said, acting surprised by your accusation. Then he shrugged, dark eyes narrowing a little. “It’s not my fault you’re so sensitive.”    

"I’m not!” you told him, unable to quell the flare up of helpless indignance. “It’s you. I don’t understand why you’re so mean to me. I never… I don’t understand.” 

Although you weren’t sure why, that had been the exactly wrong thing to say. You could tell by the set of his shoulders, by the shift in his expression. If it were a play, you had just given him his cue.

“You didn’t seem to think I was being mean the other night,” Sylvain said. “Or the night before that. Actually, if I remember correctly, you seemed like you were having a good time.”

A furious flush crawled over your face, hot enough to leave you lightheaded, blazing with shame and disgust and regret. “No. That wasn’t….” 

“Wasn’t… what? Your fault?” Sylvain asked, his eyebrow raising slightly. “Right. Nothing is ever your fault. Not as long as you flash everybody those big doe eyes and act like you're a victim.”

“That’s not it,” you said, but there was no strength to your words. Not out of a lack of conviction, but because if you spoke any louder you’d definitely cry. "I…"

He waited, but there was nothing else you could think of to say. 

“You really have no idea what else to do, do you? Well, everybody else might believe it, but I don’t.”

“I don’t care what you…” You shook your head, trying to regain even a shred of composure. “I don’t care. You're a… a…” 

“What?” Sylvain prompted. “What am I?” 

“A bully!” you exclaimed suddenly, loudly, hands balled into ineffectual fists at your sides.

“Really? I’m a… bully?” he asked incredulously. “Seriously? I swear, you’re such a kid sometimes.”

Your eyes burned with fresh tears. Tears of anger, of humiliation, of exhaustion. “Just stop. Leave me alone.” 

“Stop what?” Sylvain asked. “I came to apologize. You’re the one making such a big deal out of it.” 

“I’m not!” 

“You are. Just like earlier, all I was doing was playing around but then you had to go and make me look like the bad guy.” He hesitated, taking a step closer. “Hold on, are you gonna cry?” 

Your chin wobbled, your throat swelling up, your hands shaking. “No.” 

“Go on,” Sylvain invited. “Prove my point. You want me to feel sorry for you, right? You want me to fawn over you like everybody else.”  

“I don’t!”

“You don’t?” he asked, feigning surprise. He waved it off a second later, smiling like it had been a joke. “Ah, don’t give me that look. I get it. It’s all about the attention.” 

“I don’t want attention,” you insisted, the burning getting worse. Burning your cheeks, like embers behind your eyes. 

Sylvain rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you do. And you wanna know how I know?”

“No, I’m… I’m done. I’m going back,” you said rather than answer, holding your head high with a brittle sort of strength. You would walk past him, and it would be fine. You didn’t need to be scared. Last time—no, this wouldn’t be like last time. If you set boundaries, if you were firm, it would be okay. Holding your breath, you began to scurry past him, your entire body tense enough to snap. 

“Wait, hold on,” Sylvain said, grabbing you around the waist when you were close enough. You protested with a yelp, trying to escape his grasp, desperate to get away. Because that worked so well before. 

“I’ll scream,” you told him, pushing at his hands, your heart beating so fast you worried he could hear it too.

“No you won’t,” he said with an easy-going sort of exasperation, crowding you further into the corner before letting you go. He wasn’t physically restraining you, but you were just as trapped. Between a rock and a hard place. “Just calm down, okay?”

You sniffed, trying to compose yourself. He was right. If you screamed and somebody came, what would they think? What would Sylvain tell them? 

“Right… What was I saying?” he asked. “Oh, yeah. The reason I know you want attention is because even though you know I’m no good, even though you cry about how much of a bully I am, as soon as I made a move on you, you were more than happy to go along with it.” He smiled, teeth glinting in the low light as he shook his head. “For most girls, the Crest and title is enough, but you’re way more simple than that. You know, it’s pretty pathetic.” 

“No,” you told him, shaking your head desperately to reject his words. It wasn’t true. It wasn’t. “I-I want to go back.”

“Stop being such a baby,” he teased, reaching out to ruffle your hair. You flinched, slapping his hand away. That made Sylvain freeze, his smile dropping. Instead he braced his arm on the wall behind you, your chests nearly touching with each of your frantic breaths. “Fine, fine. If you tell me to stop and mean it, I’ll stop.” 

“Stop!” 

“That’s the best you got?” he asked with an incredulous little laugh. He was close enough that you could feel the puff of air, smell the wine on his breath. “Really?” 

“Sylvain, stop!”

“That was even worse.”

“Please, stop,” you begged, breaking down now because he wouldn't listen anyway, no matter how you said it. It was all just make-believe to trick you into doing exactly what he wanted. Foreplay. And you knew that, so where was the steel in your voice? 

“This is your problem. Nobody’s ever gonna take you seriously when all you can do is whine at them.”

“I’m not whining!” 

He didn’t even have to respond to that, the raised eyebrow and nonplussed set of his mouth said more than enough. 

“I’m not,” you told him again, your voice weaker. 

Sylvain rolled his eyes. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s cute.” 

The compliment had you frantically trying to think of an escape. Knowing that it was doomed. This was all heading in an obvious direction, it probably had been his intention from the second he chased you away and you just played along, never smart enough to catch wise to his plots. 

“When you pout like that, I guess I do feel a little sorry for you,” he said. “I know what’ll make it better.” 

He cupped your chin to raise your head up. Gently, at first. When you tried to pull his arm away, those fingers dug into your jaw and cheeks, holding you in place.

“We have to… go back…” you said. “Otherwise people are gonna…”

“Talk? Yeah, I’m sure they will.” 

Sylvain kissed you before you could respond. Your mouth was open for his, and it didn’t matter if that was intentional or not, only that his tongue tasted like wine and it was really setting in that there was nothing you could do to stop this. He kissed like a romantic, his other hand dropping to cradle your head, holding you in a way you were sure had convinced dozens of girls of his affection and passion. 

That’s how he had been the other night too, trailing hot kisses down your body while you trembled, burying his head between your thighs until you were too wrought with pleasure to do anything other than let it happen, believing him when he told you how beautiful you were, how much he cared about you. 

Lies.

“Please, Sylvain,” you said, breaking the kiss enough to breathe. “I don’t want to.” 

“Don’t want to… what?” he asked softly, nudging your chin upward. 

You stared at his chest with blurry vision, refusing to meet his eyes. “I don’t want to… to do… anything.”

He laughed, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, let’s be honest, you never do anything. I don’t really care. The whole pillow princess thing suits you. So just relax and let me take care of it. You’re getting pretty good at that.”  

“No—nn-” Sylvain cut off your objection, grabbing a handful of your skirt to pull it up. Not all the way, just enough to get his other hand beneath the bunch of fabric. Your body bucked in an attempt to displace him, your thighs clenching, but a hard knee between your legs kept them open enough that he could rub against you over the barrier of your panties. 

“You look so confused whenever I touch you,” Sylvain said. “Before you start acting like you don’t want it, at least.” 

“I don’t!” You insisted, pushing at his arm. Sylvain didn’t budge, grabbing one of your wrists and pinning it to the wall. His other hand turned so his fingers could curl, wedging silky fabric between your pussy’s outer lips to drag forward, stopping when you unintentionally jerked in response to the pressure on your clit. You weren’t turned on, but you knew that was going to change if he started rubbing your clit the way he had last time, drawing blood between your legs to meet the demand of stimulation. Even if it was a completely physical, uncontrollable reaction, he would take it as proof that he was right.    

“I couldn’t figure out why at first, but I think I got it now.” 

You shook your head, barely able to follow along with his words as he continued touching you, grinding against your clit with those dirty little circles. If anything, the extra friction of your panties made it better. 

No. Not better. Not good. 

“You can’t believe that you’re not getting your way just by crying and whining,” Sylvain continued, uncaring that you weren’t really listening. “Because the princess always gets her way, doesn’t she?”

A soft whimper left your mouth, your head shaking in tight little motions to deny his accusation. “No,” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut to delay the tears that were finally welling up, retracing the salty tracks from before. 

Sylvain laughed breathlessly, delighted. “You’re such a crybaby. I know you love it. You can’t get enough of me. That’s why you’re acting like this. You have no idea how to get somebody’s attention without throwing a fit.”

More tears slid down your face even as your body writhed against his, that tight ball of need building up beneath his relentless touch. Sylvain caught the tears with his lips before kissing you again, groaning in response to your nearly inaudible whine at the taste. Your pussy tightened, the muscles clenching around the hollow ache of nothingness, of need. The memory of his fingers, of his cock, made the absence that much more noticeable, a desire you only knew because of Sylvain.   

His tongue explored your mouth while you anxiously lagged behind, unable to meet his intensity as your body teetered ever closer to the crest of pleasure, all you could do was try to hold on, to keep your eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to block it all out. 

Suddenly, Sylvain pulled away. The loss of pressure on your clit made your eyes snap open, your hips jumping forward. He obviously noticed the reaction, his lips red and wet, his eyes alight. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not about to leave you high and dry,” he said, pushing your panties down enough to make room for his hand. 

“I do—oh-” Was your wonderfully eloquent response when he pressed two fingers into you. Longer, thicker, more insistent than your own. You trembled and gasped and moaned, your pussy sucking his fingers deeper, your hips bucking against him. You squeezed your eyes shut again, not wanting to see whatever expression Sylvain was wearing when he started laughing, his fingers scissoring and teasingly thrusting, dragging against your walls in a way that had you squirming helplessly. 

“With as much as you cry, I wouldn’t think you could get so wet,” he told you. “Guess you just want it that bad, huh?”

You gasped, squirmed, your fingers tightening in the front of his shirt, your other arm uselessly fighting against his grip. "No," you said weakly, trying not to make any noises he might take as affirmation. 

“Use your big girl words. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you hate it when I finger you. Tell me you hate it when I make you come.” 

“You’re… you’re wr-ah—” Your objection cut off with a sharp gasp, your body jerking in response to a particular curl of his fingers which must have been what he was waiting for because of the horribly sharp smirk he was wearing when your panicked eyes opened and met his.

“You know, now that I think about it, you really can’t do anything like a real adult. Throwing fits, running away when you get your feelings hurt… Even when we're fucking, all you can do is whine and cry and beg for me to take care of you.” 

Sylvain got you to prove his point without trying, curling his fingers, pushing them deep enough to fill that anxious ache of need, making you gasp and tremble, holding onto him even tighter for stability. 

“If you didn’t have somebody taking care of you at all times,” he told you, his voice a little lower, a little more mean, “you’d be completely helpless.” 

“No.”

“Can you even make yourself come? Have you tried?”

“Ss-stop.” 

“I bet you haven’t. Why would you when you’ve got me around to do it for you? You’re so spoiled. Fuck, it’s a good thing you’re cute.” 

The praise, his fingers, the way his palm ground against your clit with each pass, you tried to ignore it, to shut everything out, but you couldn’t. Tears dripped down your cheeks and you moaned for him, your pussy squeezing his fingers as the feverish build of pleasure threatened to snap. “I… I can’t…”

“You think? ‘Cause I think you can.”

“No, I can’t,” you said—you whined.  

It didn’t matter. A few thrusts more was all it took and you did, trembling and gasping and crying as you came, hitting your head against the hard wall when your body arched against him. The pain did nothing to distract you from the swell and burst of pleasure, the heat spreading out and fizzing like champagne bubbles in your core, all the way to your flushed cheeks and open mouth. Sylvain didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, dragging it out until you were writhing for another reason entirely. 

“Sss-sto-stop!” you said, pushing him away. 

“Why? Did you come?” he asked, feigning ignorance. “I thought you couldn’t.” 

“Stop,” you begged again.

“No,” he said. “Unless you were lying. I mean, I thought I felt you squeezing me extra tight, but…” 

“I did!” you exclaimed. “I did, I did, so please-” 

Finally, Sylvain pulled his fingers out of your spasming pussy, smiling like he’d won. You wilted, half glad to be spared the discomfort of oversensitivity and half disappointed by the fresh ache of emptiness. The contradiction was like a slap in the face, your body betraying you all over again.

“See, it’s not that hard to be honest,” Sylvain said. “So go ahead, admit it.” 

“Admit what?” you asked softly, wetly. 

“Admit that you’re a slut, and all you want is to get fucked by yours truly.” How he even managed to wink at you while saying something so profane, you had no idea, only that it made you flush so hot your ears stung. 

“You… you’re awful,” you told him.

“I’m a good-for-nothing asshole, yeah,” Sylvain agreed. “But at least I’m honest about it. You can’t even do that.”

“I-I’m not…”

“Yeah, you’re just a poor pathetic little crybaby getting taken advantage of by the mean, mean bully. Right?” 

“But… but you are,” you told him. Sylvain snorted derisively, peeling you off the wall and flipping you around, guiding you into a graceless stumble forward until you were facing the window. There wasn’t much of a view up here, especially not on a dark night like this. Sylvain pushed you down, forcing you to hold onto the window ledge for stability. Ignoring your complaints, he flipped your skirt up, kicking your feet apart a little. 

“Sylvain, please stop, I do-don’t-”

“Stop squirming around so much,” he told you, shoving your panties down. The fabric strained, pulled taut between your thighs. He used them to keep you still while undoing his belt and pants. “Don’t you think I deserve something too? I’ve been pretty nice, all things considered.” 

All you could do was wheeze in response, caught off guard by the sudden pressure of his cock pressing between your folds. Given the poor light and the position, there was a bit of fumbling. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and withdrew, letting you relax slightly. This wouldn’t work. Not in such a shameful position, not here where you could be found.

“Yeah, just like that. Relax for me,” Sylvain said sweetly, his voice contrasting with the harsh palm forcing you to bend down even more, your thighs burning as you rocked forward on your toes. When his cock returned, it was slick with saliva, easily pushing past your outer lips. As soon as you felt the head press between the tense muscles of your entrance, Sylvain’s hips snapped forward. 

He groaned low in his chest, one of the few honest things to come out of his mouth that night. You whimpered. Even if your body was tense, Sylvain had no issue pushing until his hips met your ass. You were wet and, despite any mental rejection on your part, ready for this. The stretch wasn’t the discomfort of your first time, but the heady weight of something that should have been natural and beautiful. Sylvain grabbed your hips to adjust himself within you, manipulating you into position while you scrambled to hold onto the stone with sweaty hands, your legs trembling. 

“I have no idea why you make such a big deal out of this. You obviously love it,” Sylvain said, satisfied. You gripped onto the window ledge a little tighter, your face scrunching up with more tears as he pulled out. Slowly, luxuriating in the sensation. Your pussy clenched down around him, your hips rolling before you could get enough control over yourself to stop. “Don’t get me wrong, I do too. Most of the time, I don’t really care, you know? Sex is… well, it’s sex. You have a girl one, two times, and the itch is scratched. But you… I don’t know what it is, either.”

The only answer you could manage was a stuttered, “Aaa-aa-ah-” when Sylvain pushed back in, pushing you onto your toes again as he filled you all the way. You didn’t do anything to stop him. Your body accepted it eagerly, your inner walls fluttering as you adjusted to his size, providing a fresh wave of wet arousal to soak his cock as he wiggled your hips and pulled out. Pathetic, embarrassing tears dripped onto the floor. 

“Next time we do this, I’ll need a mirror,” Sylvain said, his voice raspy. “I’ve never met a girl that cries so much when she comes. I didn’t think I’d be so into it, but—fuck.” He groaned, his hips clapping loudly against your ass. Even if he wasn’t talking and groaning, even if you weren’t whimpering and gasping and sniffling with each inexorably deep thrust, the vulgar sound of skin slapping skin would have been more than enough of a giveaway to what was happening to anybody passing by. 

Worse than that, worse than anything else, was that Sylvain knew what he was doing. He targeted your g-spot by using the grip he had on your hips to grind you on his cock, to keep you in place for him as he thrust harder, faster so you had no chance to keep up, to sort out the assault of stimulation and pleasure. You shook, tense enough to snap, your fingers clawing at the stonework for stability as your body drew inward, everything within you focused on the growing heat.  

“Please,” you gasped, desperate for it. Later you could blame the insanity of pleasure, of lust, of need. That’s what you did before, the way you denied blame. “Please ta-touch me, I-”

“What, now you want to come? I thought you hated this,” Sylvain teased. A helpless moan left your open mouth, tears and drool dripping onto the floor as you were rocked back and forth. “Heh. Maybe if you keep begging.” 

As he spoke, Sylvain twisted your hips, his cock grinding against your inner walls, pushing so deep you’d probably feel it if you pressed on your abdomen. The sound of his voice, the intensity of fullness, the mindless lust and despair, it hit too hard and you sobbed and hiccuped and moaned and came and you didn’t mean to, but your pussy desperately clamped down around him, your hips tilting upward, your back arching as that contentious ball of heat just snapped, filling you with pleasure, white hot and wonderful and feverish. Some part of you was grateful that he didn’t stop, or even slow down, just kept fucking you through the orgasm, letting you ride it out. 

“Seriously?” Sylvain asked with a short, hoarse laugh of disbelief. 

As the high faded, you tried to squirm away, a helpless sob wracking your body as the shame caught up with you. Sylvain didn’t let you go. If anything, he was being more rough, more frantic. 

“Most girls need more than that to come, but you couldn’t even wait for permission,” he said.

“Nn-no, I-I didn’t me-mean to.”

“Yeah?” Sylvain asked, mockingly indulgent. “It wasn’t your fault, was it, baby? You can’t help it, right?” 

You shook your head, knowing any answer you gave would just feed into his cruelty. 

Sylvain paused, leaning over to pull your torso upward. His fingers dug hard into your wet cheeks, his other arm holding your hips in place so he could keep going. 

“It’s fine, I don’t think I can last either,” he said, softer now, his hand raising to grope your tits through your dress. At this point, he was practically rutting into you. Using you. 

All you could do was whimper and whine and sob, just trying to hold on, unable to keep your pussy from squeezing him as he fucked you, writhing back against him helplessly because even this felt good. Terrible and cruel and good. 

“Later,” Sylvain said, his voice hoarse. Speaking because it made you react, got your pussy to tighten around him a little harder, made you whine a little louder. “Later, I‘m gonna give you a reason to cry, yeah? If you wanna… wanna act like a spoiled brat, I’ll treat you like one. Gonna look so hot swallowing my cock… Tied to my bed, begging me to fuck you… Covered with hickies…” 

“Sylvain,” you whimpered, hating the anxious, dark mixture of heat and fear his threats filled you with. He groaned even louder, his mouth opening to let out a low, sensual sigh that only worsened your feeling of helpless need, his hips slapping against your ass so hard it almost hurt. “Plea—ease, it-”

“Yeah, beg for it,” he told you eagerly, crushing you against him while he sought his end. 

“Nnngh-”

“Beg me to come inside of you… maybe you can keep it from slipping down your thighs when we go back. Otherwise you’ll get it all over your pretty dress.” 

You whimpered, sobbed, but that wasn’t much of a choice. Better inside of you where nobody would see, you could remember the mess from last time. 

“Please come inside of me,” you asked. Begged. You sounded desperate. You sounded like you wanted it. “Please, Sylvain. Come… inside..” 

Sylvain groaned, pressing his face against your neck as his hips lost any and all sense of tempo, his cock buried deep inside of you as he came with a loud, open sound that shuddered apart, holding you tight as he did. And then there was just stillness. Harsh breathing and heat and sweat and the stench of sex. He laughed a little, still breathless. Blissed out. “That was good,” Sylvain told you, kissing your neck before pulling out and letting you go. 

You stumbled forward, holding onto the window ledge, panting and shaking. Aware of the emptiness inside of you and the slick feeling of his cum drooling out of your cunt. No matter what he said, you didn’t think you could return to the party. Everybody would know. With shaking hands, you pulled your panties up, let your skirt fall back into place. You could hear Sylvain fixing his clothes too, but you didn’t want to look at him. You didn’t want to exist. 

“Guess I’ll go back first, give you some time to clean up,” he said, his voice mostly back to normal. 

“Okay,” you said, nodding. 

“You alright?” 

“Yes.”

“Hm. By the way, I meant it,” Sylvain told you, grabbing your wrist to turn you around and look at him. He didn’t really look that much worse for wear. Not like you felt. He smiled, dark eyes bright and smile slightly too sharp. “About later. Don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”

You pulled your arm away, your chest tightening with panic and fear and excitement. Despair. Hatred. Self loathing. “No, this can’t… it can’t happen again.” 

“What are you gonna do—whine at me to stop?” he asked. “Cry and hope that I’ll feel bad? C’mon, baby. I know you liked it.”

You didn’t say anything, glaring at his chest in an attempt to keep yourself from responding to that taunt. 

“That’s what I thought,” Sylvain said. Not in a mean way. No, he sounded friendly, approachable. “I’ll see you later, babe.”