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#i have to post it NOW or else i will be working on it for the rest of my life
girlgenius1111 · 3 days
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might just love you 'til the end
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post... that match. a bit of angst, mostly fluff. alexia is not pleased after her performance against chelsea. you aren't quite sure what she needs from you. you decide to give her space, but that isn't really what she needs. alexia tells you... eventually.
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It was a long day, a tiring and difficult match, and Alexia probably would have resorted to one of her coping mechanisms, if she hadn’t missed that last shot on goal. It seemed to take something out of her, and even from your place sitting on the bench, you could see how angry she was acting. Underneath that, though, you could tell that she was really just disappointed in herself. 
Watching her blink back tears as she made her way around the pitch was almost too much for you. You wanted nothing more than to grab her hand, pull her into the tunnel, and hug her until she wasn’t sad anymore. You knew better than to try to comfort her now, though. Alexia hated nothing more than seeming weak, especially in front of the team. Anything she needed or wanted from you would have to wait until you both got home. And even then, you weren’t sure what to expect. Sometimes she’d just shut down after a bad game, go to sleep, and wake up with a new passion the next morning. Sometimes she’d shut down, but her fury at herself would linger for days. Very rarely did she talk about it. Only when she really reached her breaking point, which was admittedly a lot harder to reach than other people’s were, would she let you make her feel better.  
It wasn’t necessarily a healthy array of options that she normally went with, but you couldn’t argue that it didn’t work. It worked for Alexia, and that was what was important. Even if giving her space until she asked for something else hurt, you knew it was what she needed. 
She acted pretty much how you expected her to as you both made your way into the locker room and headed for the showers. The blonde gave you nothing more than a high five and a weak smile, before she launched herself into her post match routine. You did the same, icing various parts of your body that hurt after a rather physical game. You kept your eyes on your girlfriend, though, watching the hollow way she brushed through her hair and the mechanical way she laced up her shoes. You were done before her, sitting in your locker looking at your phone, trying to figure out how bad the social media situation was going to be for her, when her white nikes appeared in front of you. You looked up at her with a smile, though it fell slightly when you took in the completely emotionless look on her face. She’d shut down, then, like you’d expected her to. You knew it was coming, but it didn’t make it easier that she wouldn’t let you help.
“¿Lista?” She asked roughly, not meeting your eyes. 
“Yeah, let’s go.” You replied, getting to your feet, grabbing your bag, and giving Mapi a reassuring look from where she sat waiting for Ingrid to be ready to go. You knew your girlfriend’s best friend worried about her, and that she had tried to talk to her after the match, but it hadn’t really gone anywhere. You were surprised when, as soon as you were out of the locker room and had walked a ways down the hall, Alexia dropped her bag to the ground and pulled you into a tight hug. 
You returned the hug, sighing into her shoulder, feeling her bury her face in your slightly damp hair. The hug was for you, you could tell. To make you feel better, even when Alexia wouldn’t allow you to do anything to make her feel better. She held herself a bit tensely, and when she pulled away, her eyes searched yours, her worry clear on her face. 
“Te amo,” she whispered, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. “I am proud of you, always.” 
“I love you, Ale,” you replied, a thousand more words on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to tell her you were proud of her, too, that it wasn’t her fault, that she didn’t need to deal with today all by herself, but you knew she wouldn’t accept it right now. Instead, you grabbed her hand in yours and squeezed tightly. 
The captain kept her hand in yours as you both walked to her car, and though you expected her to pull away from the contact, you were glad that she was letting herself have something to make herself feel better. The car ride home was silent, and you predicted the rest of the night to be the same.
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You knew to let Alexia deal with it how she dealt with it, but you did put your foot down on a couple things. When she headed right for the couch, going to put the match replay on the TV and take notes, you shook your head, taking the remote out of her hand. 
“Not tonight. It won’t make you feel better.” 
“I have to watch,” she argued, but you cut her off. 
“You can watch tomorrow. Tonight we are going to watch a movie, order dinner, and go to bed early.” 
“Amor,” Alexia sighed, her brow furrowed, no doubt thinking about how she could convince you to let her do this. 
You switched tactics, knowing there was one sure way to get your girlfriend to agree with you. “Please? For me? I don’t want to watch that again right now.” 
The blonde softened, nodding her head at you. Satisfied, you flopped down on the couch next to her, grabbing her arm and draping it over your shoulder. 
Alexia smiled despite herself, leaving a soft kiss on the top of your head. She was still practically silent as you picked out a movie, but she pulled you close to her, slipping her hand up the front of your shirt and  running her thumb back and forth across your skin. 
Even if she was only letting this happen because she thought she was comforting you, it was still better than nothing. Better than the rare occasions that she’d sleep on the couch, almost as a punishment for herself when she didn’t perform the way she thought she should’ve. The blonde had gotten better since getting together with you, mostly because you pointed out the inconsistencies in how she treated you after a rough game, and how she treated herself. Some rough days sent her spiraling back to her bad habits, though, and you were glad you could pull her away from those, at least for today.
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“Cariño,” Alexia whispered, jostling you slightly. “Let’s go to bed, vale?” 
“Hmm?” You mumbled, barely opening your eyes. “‘M not asleep.” 
“Oh, sure. You are just watching the movie with your eyes closed?” 
“Sí,” you sighed, turning against her slightly until your head was laid on her chest. It vibrated under you as she laughed, and the sound woke you a bit more, glad to hear something even remotely joyful come out of your girlfriend’s mouth. 
“Venga, amor, it is time for bed.” She insisted, gently sitting up and easing you into an upright position. You pouted at her, wishing the smile on her face would reach her eyes. When it didn’t, you rose from the couch, grabbing Alexia’s hand, and pulling her towards the bedroom. 
You both made quick work of your nighttime routines, and you were glad to slide into the bed, undeniably exhausted from the physically and emotionally draining day. Alexia slipped in next to you, though she didn’t really get comfortable; she remained halfway sat up, staring at the ceiling above her. You tucked yourself into her side, burrowing under the covers until you were surrounded by soft fabric and Alexia’s sweatshirt. She seemed wide awake, and you laced your fingers with her, rubbing your thumb comfortingly along the back. 
“Sleep, baby. You need rest. Everything will feel better in the morning.” Alexia nodded mechanically, giving you a half smile that you didn’t buy for a second, before her eyes fluttered shut. “I love you. You’re my favorite person.” You whispered. 
She opened her eyes again at your words, softening slightly. She turned on her side and pulled you into her chest, wrapping you up tightly in her arms. “Te amo, mi niña, eres perfecta.” She whispered. 
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You fell asleep easily. Alexia, evidently, had not. You realized this when you rolled over in the middle of the night, seeking out your girlfriend to curl up against, and only felt cold sheets next to you. 
It woke you up, and you opened your eyes, in your sleepy haze worried Alexia had gotten sick or something. You looked around the room, and towards the bathroom, but no lights were on. You sat up in the bed, forcing yourself to wake up more. Once you had thought about it for a minute, you had a sneaking suspicion about where your girlfriend had disappeared to in the middle of the night. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, checking Alexia’s location, and sure enough, her little profile picture was at a park a few blocks away. It had a football pitch, and Alexia sometimes slipped away there when she wanted to clear her head, but not deal with seeing people she knew at the Barça training ground. 
You dragged yourself out of bed, even though you had half a mind to call Ale’s mom and get Eli to deal with her, knowing she could scold her daughter much more effectively than you could. It was the middle of the night, though, and you knew that Alexia may need a softer approach. You weren’t really sure what headspace she’d be in when you found her, and it was at this thought that you began to move faster, pulling on joggers and a shirt, and rushing down the stairs. You could visualize what she’d be doing, taking shot after shot on goal, but you couldn’t figure out how she’d be acting. Upset, or sad, or angry, or still completely blank. You grabbed your car keys, not really wanting to waste a second longer than possible by walking to where Alexia was, although it wasn’t far. 
It only took a few minutes to arrive, and you pulled into the parking lot with your attention completely fixed on the figure across the park, running down the pitch with a ball at her feet. As you got closer, you took in how exhausted Alexia looked, as if she’d been at this for hours.
“Ale?” You called, finally arriving at the pitch and trying to get your girlfriend’s attention from the sidelines. She didn’t look over at you, too caught up in her own thoughts, trying to angle her shot in just right. 
You moved closer, and finally she saw you, just out of the corner of her eye. She stopped what she was doing, turning to face you. “Amor?” She questioned. “What are you doing here?” 
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at her question. “Really? You’re asking me what I’m doing here?” Your girlfriend had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “It’s the middle of the night, Alexia. What are you doing?”
“I could not fall asleep.” Alexia told you, walking over to you, her ball abandoned behind her. 
“Why didn’t you wake me?” You asked, brushing a few pieces of flyaway hair off her forehead. She melted into your touch, her body slouching down towards you, giving you even more of an idea of how exhausted she was. 
“I wanted you to rest.” She said quietly, and it was a perfectly believable explanation, but for some reason you had a feeling that there was more to it than that. You fixed her with a look, raising one eyebrow. The blonde sighed again, grabbing your hand in hers. “Can we go home?” 
“Only if you promise to talk to me when we get there. Otherwise I’ll make you stand in goal while I shoot.” You teased, happy to see a small smile on your girlfriend’s completely drained face. 
“Promise.” She said, giving your hand a squeeze as you both began to walk towards the park exit. 
-------
You sent Alexia to shower upon arriving home, sitting on the couch until she was done, absolutely sure that if you got back in bed, you’d instantly fall back asleep. Alexia very timidly walked out of the bathroom 20 minutes later, all bundled up in a sweatshirt and sweatpants even though it was rather warm out. 
Alexia looked weirdly nervous as she sat down next to you, her eyes everywhere but on yours. She reached for your hand very hesitantly, relaxing slightly when you intertwined your fingers with hers easily. 
“What’s wrong, Ale?” You asked. 
“I am sorry about today. Really sorry, amor.” 
You opened your mouth, prepared to tell her that you forgave her for sneaking away in the middle of the night instead of waking you up, but you stopped when you looked at her closer, and found tears in her eyes. Something about the way she’d phrased it, too, that she was sorry about ‘today,’ didn’t sit right with you. 
“What are you sorry about?” You asked, frowning when Alexia chewed on her lower lip instead of answering. 
“I disappointed you today.” She said finally. 
“Alexia,” you rushed to contradict her, but she cut you off. 
“No, I know I did. I am sorry, I will do better, mi amor, I promise.” 
“Love, you did not disappoint me.” You insisted, cradling your girlfriend’s cheek and wiping away a stray tear. She shrugged, like she didn’t believe you. “You could never disappoint me, Alexia, especially not by missing a shot. Why do you think that?” 
Her eyes flicked up to yours, finding only sincerity there, as she took a deep breath, and spoke. “I told you I was proud of you.” Alexia mumbled, her cheeks flushing. “You did not say it back. And you normally give me a hug after matches in the locker room, but you did not, not until I hugged you.” 
You were sure you felt your heart crack in two. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” You said, reaching to pull her into a hug. She shrugged out of your grasp, though, and you were furious with yourself in that moment. 
“You do not need to be sorry, I understand.” She said, albeit rather miserably, looking so angry and upset with herself, when she really should have been directing that at you. 
“No, Alexia, look at me.” You insisted, gently tilting her head to look at you. She was barely holding back tears, her lip wavering sadly. “Oh, my love. I didn’t say it back because I didn’t think you’d want to hear it. You never listen after rough games, I was trying to let you have your feelings for the night, and then try to make you feel better tomorrow. I didn’t think you’d want comfort, Alexia, not today. I am so proud of you, Alexia. Every day, I am proud of you, especially today. You did everything you could do, I know that. It just wasn’t our day. Estoy tan orgullosa de ti.” You emphasized. 
Alexia nodded slowly, but you could tell she didn’t fully believe you. 
“Would you ever be disappointed with me for missing a shot?” You asked, slightly amused when the blonde whipped her head up to look at you, a frown set on her features. 
“No. Never.” Alexia said quickly, appalled at even the idea.
You smiled at her sadly. “Can you not imagine that I feel the same way about you, Ale? That I love you just as much as you love me? 
Your girlfriend swallowed roughly, reaching to pull you into her lap, and into a hug. You let her manhandle you the way she wanted, wrapping your arms around her and kissing the side of her head repeatedly once she grabbed on to you. 
“It is hard to believe sometimes. It is… too good to be true. That you love me like I love you. I do not always feel like I deserve it. Especially when I am grumpy all day after we lose, and I sneak out of our bed, and make you come find me in the middle of the night.” Alexia said, her voice dripping with insecurity. 
You pulled back just slightly, pressing your forehead to Alexia’s, threading your fingers through her hair. “You always deserve it. Always, Alexia. And I would get out of bed in the middle of the night to come find you every day if you needed me too. I’d get on a plane in the middle of the night and fly halfway across the world to find you, if that’s what you needed.” You whispered, leaning forward to press your lips to Alexia’s. 
She kissed you back, hard, trying to tell you how much everything you’d said meant to her. 
“I’d rather not, but I’d do it.” You mumbled against her mouth, feeling her smile against your own lips. 
“Okay.” She said finally, and it was clear to you that she believed you a bit more now, and that she’d believe you even more tomorrow. “I will keep my fleeing of the country to a minimum.” 
You laughed. “Good. Because I want to go to bed.” 
Alexia nodded enthusiastically, rising up off the couch with you held securely in her arms. “Me too.” 
She carried you towards the bedroom, already physically more relaxed than she’d been all day. 
“If you set an alarm for the morning, I will make you sleep at the park tomorrow night.” You told her, letting out a rather undignified squeak when she gently threw you down on the bed. 
She smiled at you mischievously, her bad day completely forgotten. How could she think about her performance when you were so perfect, and so pretty, and she was so tired.
“No alarm.” She promised, turning her light off and collapsing onto the bed next to you. It had been a mistake, not waking you up before. Because when you pulled her into you and began to scratch lightly at her back, she went completely limp, and she knew you were all she needed to fall asleep. Alexia didn’t need to practice her shots until her legs were numb. She just needed to lay her head on your chest and hear your heartbeat in her ear, and she’d remember that everything would be okay. 
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hope you enjoyed :)
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milkteabinniechan · 3 days
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take your time - chan
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pairing: bf! Chan x afab reader ☕//m.list
warnings: just fluff, mentions of menstruation, cramps etc
a/n: this is purely self indulgent. no one asked for this and I cried while I was writing it lmao. thanks for indulging in my insanity<3
This was it. Finally some alone time with him, with Chan. You had both been working so much. Your schedules almost complete opposite of each other. When you fall asleep, he would just be getting home. But now it was your weekend away. You had planned it for a month. Channie had taken the time away from the studio and you had pushed some deadlines back.
There was just one problem: your period. You had painstakingly checked your calendar to make sure this wouldn't happen, but the anxiety of it all much have started you up early. Ah, what perfect irony.
"it's alright, babygirl. I just want to be with you." Chan had repeated throughout your drive to the cabin.
But the guilt bounced off the edges of your brain like ping pong balls. You couldn't think of anything else besides your painful cramps and your failure as a girlfriend. As Chan's car pulled up the long driveway to the cabin, you felt your chest tighten. You knew if you opened your mouth, you'd only apologize again for the 1000th time.
Chan grabbed the suitcase you both shared and led the way to the front door.
"After you, gorgeous." He said with a smile, arm outstretched to the open door.
Jdndnndndjdndjdjd
Jdjdjdj
You stepped inside and were immediately greeted with bright sunlight and the smell of warm cedar. You had booked this same cabin a year prior, and absolutely nothing had changed. It was just perfect. Chan wrapped his arms around your waist from behind you. He nuzzled his face into your neck and took a deep breath in.
"I love you." He whispered low into the curve of your throat.
You quickly spun around and kissed him deeply. You were so incredibly in love. At times it felt like you could drown in this love. You pulled your head back and Channie held your face in his hands. His eyes spoke words of adoration. His lips recited an ode of devotion that your mouth had never tasted before.
Later that night, Chan had set up your electric heating pad and propped a few pillows under your feet. He had asked a few times if you were comfortable, especially when he moved on the bed or readjusted his seat. You apologized just once more that you couldn't, that you wanted to, but you didn't have energy to-
But this last apology was firmly interrupted with a slow, warm kiss.
"You never have to apologize," Chan's eyes locked with yours so he knew you were really listening, "You're in pain. I just want you comfortable and happy, because you always make sure I'm comfortable and happy. Always."
You fell asleep in Channie's arms that night. The fireplace burned until just low, bitter-orange embers flickered against the starlight.
taglist: @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @doohnut @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics
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How can you consider yourself any sort of leftist when you defend AI art bullshit? You literally simp for AI techbros and have the gall to pretend you're against big corporations?? Get fucked
I don't "defend" AI art. I think a particular old post of mine that a lot of people tend to read in bad faith must be making the rounds again lmao.
Took me a good while to reply to this because you know what? I decided to make something positive out of this and use this as an opportunity to outline what I ACTUALLY believe about AI art. If anyone seeing this decides to read it in good or bad faith... Welp, your choice I guess.
I have several criticisms of the way the proliferation of AI art generators and LLMs is making a lot of things worse. Some of these are things I have voiced in the past, some of these are things I haven't until now:
Most image and text AI generators are fine-tuned to produce nothing but the most agreeable, generically pretty content slop, pretty much immediately squandering their potential to be used as genuinely interesting artistic tools with anything to offer in terms of a unique aesthetic experience (AI video still manages to look bizarre and interesting but it's getting there too)
In the entertainment industry and a lot of other fields, AI image generation is getting incorporated into production pipelines in ways that lead to the immiseration of working artists, being used to justify either lower wages or straight-up layoffs, and this is something that needs to be fought against. That's why I unconditionally supported the SAG-AFTRA strikes last year and will unconditionally support any collective action to address AI art as a concrete labor issue
In most fields where it's being integrated, AI art is vastly inferior to human artists in any use case where you need anything other than to make a superficially pretty picture really fast. If you need to do anything like ask for revisions or minor corrections, give very specific descriptions of how objects and people are interacting with each other, or just like. generate several pictures of the same thing and have them stay consistent with each other, you NEED human artists and it's preposterous to think they can be replaced by AI.
There is a lot of art of the internet that consists of the most generically pretty, cookie-cutter anime waifu-adjacent slop that has zero artistic or emotional value to either the people seeing it or the person churning it out, and while this certainly was A Thing before the advent of AI art generators, generative AI has made it extremely easy to become the kind of person who churns it out and floods online art spaces with it.
Similarly, LLMs make it extremely easy to generate massive volumes of texts, pages, articles, listicles and what have you that are generic vapid SEO-friendly pap at best and bizzarre nonsense misinformation at worst, drowning useful information in a sea of vapid noise and rendering internet searches increasingly useless.
The way LLMs are being incorporated into customer service and similar services not only, again, encourages further immiseration of customer service workers, but it's also completely useless for most customers.
A very annoyingly vocal part the population of AI art enthusiasts, fanatics and promoters do tend to talk about it in a way that directly or indirectly demeans the merit and skill of human artists and implies that they think of anyone who sees anything worthwile in the process of creation itself rather than the end product as stupid or deluded.
So you can probably tell by now that I don't hold AI art or writing in very high regard. However (and here's the part that'll get me called an AI techbro, or get people telling me that I'm just jealous of REAL artists because I lack the drive to create art of my own, or whatever else) I do have some criticisms of the way people have been responding to it, and have voiced such criticisms in the past.
I think a lot of the opposition to AI art has critstallized around unexamined gut reactions, whipping up a moral panic, and pressure to outwardly display an acceptable level of disdain for it. And in particular I think this climate has made a lot of people very prone to either uncritically entertain and adopt regressive ideas about Intellectual Propety, OR reveal previously held regressive ideas about Intellectual Property that are now suddenly more socially acceptable to express:
(I wanna preface this section by stating that I'm a staunch intellectual property abolitionist for the same reason I'm a private property abolitionist. If you think the existence of intellectual property is a good thing, a lot of my ideas about a lot of stuff are gonna be unpalatable to you. Not much I can do about it.)
A lot of people are suddenly throwing their support behind any proposal that promises stricter copyright regulations to combat AI art, when a lot of these also have the potential to severely udnermine fair use laws and fuck over a lot of independent artist for the benefit of big companies.
It was very worrying to see a lot of fanfic authors in particular clap for the George R R Martin OpenAI lawsuit because well... a lot of them don't realize that fanfic is a hobby that's in a position that's VERY legally precarious at best, that legally speaking using someone else's characters in your fanfic is a much of a violation of copyright law as stright up stealing entire passages, and that any regulation that can be used against the latter can be extended against the former.
Similarly, a lot of artists were cheering for the lawsuit against AI art models trained to mimic the style of specific artists. Which I agree is an extremely scummy thinbg to do (just like a human artist making a living from ripping off someone else's work is also extremely scummy), but I don't think every scummy act necessarily needs to be punishable by law, and some of them would in fact leave people worse off if they were. All this to say: If you are an artist, and ESPECIALLY a fan artist, trust me. You DON'T wanna live in a world where there's precedent for people's artstyles to be considered intellectual property in any legally enforceable way. I know you wanna hurt AI art people but this is one avenue that's not worth it.
Especially worrying to me as an indie musician has been to see people mention the strict copyright laws of the music industry as a positive thing that they wanna emulate. "this would never happen in the music industry because they value their artists copyright" idk maybe this is a the grass is greener type of situation but I'm telling you, you DON'T wanna live in a world where copyright law in the visual arts world works the way it does in the music industry. It's not worth it.
I've seen at least one person compare AI art model training to music sampling and say "there's a reason why they cracked down on sampling" as if the death of sampling due to stricter copyright laws was a good thing and not literally one of the worst things to happen in the history of music which nearly destroyed several primarily black music genres. Of course this is anecdotal because it's just One Guy I Saw Once, but you can see what I mean about how uncritical support for copyright law as a tool against AI can lead people to adopt increasingly regressive ideas about copyright.
Similarly, I've seen at least one person go "you know what? Collages should be considered art theft too, fuck you" over an argument where someone else compared AI art to collages. Again, same point as above.
Similarly, I take issue with the way a lot of people seem EXTREMELY personally invested in proving AI art is Not Real Art. I not only find this discussion unproductive, but also similarly dangerously prone to validating very reactionary ideas about The Nature Of Art that shouldn't really be entertained. Also it's a discussion rife with intellectual dishonesty and unevenly applied definition as standards.
When a lot of people present the argument of AI art not being art because the definition of art is this and that, they try to pretend that this is the definition of art the've always operated under and believed in, even when a lot of the time it's blatantly obvious that they're constructing their definition on the spot and deliberately trying to do so in such a way that it doesn't include AI art.
They never succeed at it, btw. I've seen several dozen different "AI art isn't art because art is [definition]". I've seen exactly zero of those where trying to seriously apply that definition in any context outside of trying to prove AI art isn't art doesn't end up in it accidentally excluding one or more non-AI artforms, usually reflecting the author's blindspots with regard to the different forms of artistic expression.
(However, this is moot because, again, these are rarely definitions that these people actually believe in or adhere to outside of trying to win "Is AI art real art?" discussions.)
Especially worrying when the definition they construct is built around stuff like Effort or Skill or Dedication or The Divine Human Spirit. You would not be happy about the kinds of art that have traditionally been excluded from Real Art using similar definitions.
Seriously when everyone was celebrating that the Catholic Church came out to say AI art isn't real art and sharing it as if it was validating and not Extremely Worrying that the arguments they'd been using against AI art sounded nearly identical to things TradCaths believe I was like. Well alright :T You can make all the "I never thought I'd die fighting side by side with a catholic" legolas and gimli memes you want, but it won't change the fact that the argument being made by the catholic church was a profoundly conservative one and nearly identical to arguments used to dismiss the artistic merit of certain forms of "degenerate" art and everyone was just uncritically sharing it, completely unconcerned with what kind of worldview they were lending validity to by sharing it.
Remember when the discourse about the Gay Sex cats pic was going on? One of the things I remember the most from that time was when someone went "Tell me a definition of art that excludes this picture without also excluding Fountain by Duchamp" and how just. Literally no one was able to do it. A LOT of people tried to argue some variation of "Well, Fountain is art and this image isn't because what turns fountain into art is Intent. Duchamp's choice to show a urinal at an art gallery as if it was art confers it an element of artistic intent that this image lacks" when like. Didn't by that same logic OP's choice to post the image on tumblr as if it was art also confer it artistic intent in the same way? Didn't that argument actually kinda end up accidentally validating the artistic status of every piece of AI art ever posted on social media? That moment it clicked for me that a lot of these definitions require applying certain concepts extremely selectively in order to make sense for the people using them.
A lot of people also try to argue it isn't Real Art based on the fact that most AI art is vapid but like. If being vapid definitionally excludes something from being art you're going to have to exclude a whooole lot of stuff along with it. AI art is vapid. A lot of art is too, I don't think this argument works either.
Like, look, I'm not really invested in trying to argue in favor of The Artistic Merits of AI art but I also find it extremely hard to ignore how trying to categorically define AI art as Not Real Art not only is unproductive but also requires either a) applying certain parts of your definition of art extremely selectively, b) constructing a definition of art so convoluted and full of weird caveats as to be functionally useless, or c) validating extremely reactionary conservative ideas about what Real Art is.
Some stray thoughts that don't fit any of the above sections.
I've occassionally seen people respond to AI art being used for shitposts like "A lot of people have affordable commissions, you could have paid someone like $30 to draw this for you instead of using the plagiarism algorithm and exploiting the work of real artists" and sorry but if you consider paying an artist a rate that amounts to like $5 for several hours of work a LESS exploitative alternative I think you've got something fucked up going on with your priorities.
Also it's kinda funny when people comment on the aforementioned shitposts with some variation of "see, the usage of AI art robs it of all humor because the thing that makes shitposts funny is when you consider the fact that someone would spend so much time and effort in something so stupid" because like. Yeah that is part of the humor SOMETIMES but also people share and laugh at low effort shitposts all the time. Again you're constructing a definition that you don't actually believe in anywhere outside of this type of conversations. Just say you don't like that it's AI art because you think it's morally wrong and stop being disingenuous.
So yeah, this is pretty much everything I believe about the topic.
I don't "defend" AI art, but my opposition to it is firmly rooted in my principles, and that means I refuse to uncritically accept any anti-AI art argument that goes against those same principles.
If you think not accepting and parroting every Anti-AI art argument I encounter because some of them are ideologically rooted in things I disagree with makes me indistinguishable from "AI techbros" you're working under a fucked up dichotomy.
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justivik · 3 days
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; italian boyfriend! yandere x fem! reader
english isn't my first language
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You have been in a relationship with Matthew for 7 months. You have lived very nice moments like going out to fancy restaurants or cooking together on a Saturday night, no doubt you felt very lucky to have him by your side but there was something that caught your attention about him.
His pathological jealousy.
He would tell you that he trusted you but not others, it seemed like all day long he was suspicious of all the men and even women who surrounded you and maintained a friendship with you. It seems like an endless loop when you two fight, it was always suspicions on his part against you. The two of you would fight, make up and end up getting intimate. Almost like that Katy Perry song; you loved your boyfriend and you were determined to put an end to that intense jealousy so you could have a stable relationship…. Or that was your idea. You two went back to the same fight with the same theme, his distorted suspicions showing with every word and look he directed at you.
“Understand me, coure mio. I feel that your new coworker is trying to flirt with you, I've seen how he looks at you and how he tries to have some friction with you and that makes me feel…. disgustato!” He shouted whispering the last word so as not to attract the attention of the next door neighbors, with his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw tighter.
“He has no other intentions, Matt. He's already engaged to his partner and he was just being nice.”
“Being nice, being nice! You're lying! He was looking at you with other intentions and his touches were not friendly. No touch from a man who is not me is friendly.” He said.
You watched as he brought his left hand to his face with an annoyed sigh, his eyelashes pointing downward as his lips traced inaudible whispers. You stood in silence as Matt tried to calm his fit of jealousy, his hands clenched and his jaw went back to the same tense state. He sat down on the couch closer and looked at you, his sweet eyes were now darkly bitter, he opened his lips to say something again.
“Ti amo, e ho bisogno che tu mi capisca that he is not a good man, stay away from him and don't talk to him anymore. He is not a good influence and look at the problems he is bringing.”
You love it when he speaks Italian and he knows the power of saying sweet words to you in his native language. He knew how to manipulate you quickly and easily, making you nervous and blushing but this time you weren't going to let him, you were tired of the same arguments.
”He's not guilty of anything, Matt. Work on your fucking jealousy before we break up this relationship and we're more broken than anything.” You looked into his eyes and how they turned from angry to scared of losing you.
Desperate babbling was coming out of his mouth, head tilted from side to side in a no.
“If you leave me, I'd die! Don't think stupid things, coure mio.” He kept flattering you with words as soft as a rose but painful as its thorns.
“Stay with me, please. I love you, not anyone else. You!”
You felt Matthew's arms around your waist, his face on your stomach and his tears staining your shirt. You sighed deeply and then stroked his messy hair and promised him that you would never leave his side. This time your fight ended in something more than fucking…It all happened so fast, but you were glad your fight didn't last more than an hour. You would have to do a lot of work with your boyfriend on his jealousy and insecurities.
“I'll never leave you, honey”
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My first post & open request!!!
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Feelings (5)
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Hi guys!
New chapter for this Serie, I hope you'll like it too :) Don't be shy about telling what you think about it, or asking if you want to have something special in it. I had a request from here for this one, so I hope it will be ok like this :)
Please enjoy ♥
TW : Suggestive, sex talk (?)
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4
Saying goodbye to Alessia was hard, but you didn’t have the choice. You knew since the start of all this that it would happen, but that doesn’t mean it was making things easier.
You find your apartment like you left it, your friend Sofia came several times to ventilate it and take care of your olive tree. That you renamed Olivio, with all the imagination that is yours. The only thing that changed, is that there is no Alma laying on your couch like she was used to do when you were away. You always hided your keys under your doormat for her to come, but you asked Sofia to take it away for now. You still have things belonging to Alma in here though.
You send them to her by the post before going to your first training session. Your Spanish teammates look at you with friendly compassion when your arrived and you realize that you almost forgot that you lost a finale several days before. Alessia made you forget.
You find your habits really quickly, even if Laia Codina or Jenni are not part of the team anymore. But Ona being one to replace them, you’re pretty sure that Lucy isn’t too mad. You still have to talk to her about Alessia though, you knew that she went on holidays with Ona and didn’t want to bother her. And you teased her so much about Ona that you’re sure she won’t miss to tease you back for now.
Cata Coll is one of your closest friends here and it’s with her that you appear for the first time back on Fc Barcelona Feminin’s Instagram. The training was lighter the first days, but you soon go back to the real session.
“So. You and Less?” asks Lucy one afternoon where you are at her flat after the training.
“Yes?” you answer innocently.
You were playing against each other at Fifa on Playstation, Lucy’s actually crushing you with Manchester City. You’re still trying to figure how she can be good at everything.
“How did you get together?”
“What tell you that we are together?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh I don’t know. Maybe because you were making out in the plane when I came back to ask if I can borrow your earphones?”
Sitting on the other couch while scrolling on her phone, Ona can’t help but snort. You don’t mind her being here while you’re talking about your love life. You like her and she’s your mate’s girlfriend. You better get along and for now it’s working great. You smile too, to be fair, even if you blush lightly.
“We didn’t put a label on it, so I don’t know if I can call her my girlfriend” you answer, frowning softly.
It was the truth, even if you both said that you won’t go for someone else. You really hope that no one will catch Alessia’s eyes at Arsenal or even London. She’s starting again in a new environment; she doesn’t know everyone for now. You trust her obviously, but that doesn’t mean that she can’t lose interest in you.
“We did that at first too” Lucy answers. “Long-distance was hard, but really worth it if you’re meant to be.”
You hum, missing the complicit smile between Ona and Lucy. You sigh when Lucy scores another goal just before the end of the game. With a disgusted air, you let the controller fall on the couch.
“I’ve never been in a long-distance relationship before. It’s strange, to be honest, not being able to take the girl you like on date or something.”
“It is” Lucy smiles, patting your knee softly. “If you need advice or only talking, you can come to me. Or Mariona, she’s dealing with it for longer that I was.”
You nod. You somehow forgot that Mariona is dating Alessia’s teammate. Maybe you can take planes together sometimes, you think with irony.
“And Alma?” Lucy asks.
“Never heard from her again. I send her the things she left in my apartment and that’s all.”
********
You took the habits to call Alessia every night. She’s usually cooking her diner and put her phone against one of her kitchen walls to be able to cook while talking to you. You can really look at her for hours doing it. You only regret not being able to stick against her while she cuts some vegetables.
“What do you like to eat?” Alessia asks you that night.
You were silently observing her, lost in your contemplation.
“Oh uh… It depends” you shrug. “I’m not really difficult, I mean I think?”
Alessia laughs softly.
“I cooked for Leah two days ago, it was entertaining” the blonde says.
You smirk, knowing exactly what it could have been. You never met anyone as picky as Leah when it comes from food. You can guess her choice when you go to restaurant with her, it’s always the simplest dish.
“Why do you ask anyway?” you ask Alessia.
She looks genuinely surprise by your question, stopping to cut her carrots to look at you better.
“Don’t you come next week to London?”
“Yes?”
“Well I want to cook for you, obviously. We chose to get delivered almost at every meal we share when we stayed at home, but I really want to cook for you.”
“Ok” you smile softy. “Only if you let me take you on a proper date.”
“Is that even a deal?” Alessia smiles at you.
You feel your heart beating faster and God, how did you survive when she smiled at you that way in front of you?
Several days later, you were leaving training in hurry. You have two hours to go to the airport after your session and you came with your suitcase to go for it straight after your shower.
“Why are you in such hurry?” Jana asks from her cubby.
“She’s going to her girlfrieeeend” Cata sings from her spot.
“Girlfriend?”
Keira’s voice came from the other side of the room, and you flinch. Right, you didn’t talk to Keira about your new relationship. For your defense, you were thinking that Leah would. You grimace to Cata, grabs your suitcase and go for the exit.
“Say Alessia I say hi” Lucy shouts before getting hit by Ona on her arm.
“Alessia?”
You giggle when you hear the surprise in Keira’s voice but don’t take the time to answer, too scared to miss your plane. You jump in the taxi waiting for you and went for the airport.
It’s only when your luggage are taking care by the company that you take your phone off of your pocket. You wanted at first to write to Alessia to let her know that you were on your way, but you have some messages from Keira too.
Keira 🥠 Alessia??? Like in Alessia Russo? You better answer me right now, Kid.
You Who’s Alessia Russo?
Keira 🥠 You little shit. Bring back some Scones.
During the two hours and twenty-one minutes of the trip, you slept. You went to bed late this week, not being able to hang up with Alessia, even if you knew that you would see her today.
You are alert when you arrive in London, by dint of traveling from this airport, you know it by heart. There is an hour of time difference with Spain, so you feel like you have only left Spain for an hour and a half. The sandwich you snacked while waiting for your suitcase will allow you to wait until you arrive at Alessia’s, who promised to cook for you tonight. You know that you have at least one hour to go to Alessia’s house, London traffic jam being awful.
You were taping on your phone for an Uber when a voice next to you make you jump out of your skin.
“Hi stranger!”
You jump, turning around only to be face with the mischievous face of your gi… Alessia. She was supposed to be at London, not at the airport. You might look stupid when you look at her with wide eyes and your mouth slightly open. It made Alessia giggles, and you feel your stomach make a jump at the sound.
“Lessi? What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I have a great visitor coming to mine this weekend, so I decided to come to take her home.”
“No, I mean…”
“I know what you mean” Alessia laughs before kissing your cheek. “I changed my media hours with Kyra to be here at the right time.”
“Oh.”
You blush and let Alessia takes your suitcase. You then follow her to the parking lot, slaloming between people. You want to take Alessia’s hand in yours, but you don’t want to make her uneasy. There are a lot of people here.
You are happy to be sitting on the passenger’s seat of her car, who is definitely more comfortable than your seat on the plane. You can’t stop to look at her and just because she’s just next to you right now, you softly stroke her cheek before taking her hand in yours.
“I missed you” you mumble when she looks at you.
She is driving and you should have taken the opportunity to kiss her before you left the parking, but you maybe will have plenty of time to do it at her home.
“I missed you too” Alessia smiles.
She asks about your trip; you ask her about her day and finally the journey for her house isn’t so long. Even if there are a lot of people on the road at this time of the day.
“Leah wants to meet you during your stay” Alessia said at one time during the trip. “I told her not today because you will be tired, but maybe tomorrow morning? She can come to have a brunch or something before the game?”
“It sounds nice” you smile, not mentioning that only seeing her is enough for you.
Alessia had a game tomorrow afternoon, but it let you all tonight, all day after the game and all the next day too. You will leave on Monday morning very early to be at training in the morning. And you are determined to enjoy it the most possible.
You are happy to find Alessia’s house too, looking around you, you notice that some things as changed since you came the last time. She added some decorations. Alessia showed you during one of your FaceTime, but it’s different like this. You just have the time to look at the picture she took in Australia during the World Cup, before you feel her arms around you.
“I didn’t have my hello kiss.”
You smile, putting your hand on her arms.
“That’s a shame. It needs to be fixed.”
“It does.”
You turn around in her arms, passing both of yours around her neck. You take the time to look at her properly, her eyes, her freckles, and her smile, before leaning in to kiss her. You can’t explain how much you missed that feeling. Alessia sighs against you and you get even closer to her, melting in her embrace.
“That’s better” Alessia smiles after the kiss.
She then kisses your nose, your forehead, both of your cheeks and finish on your lips again.
“Are you tired? Do you want to take a nap while I’m cooking?”
“Like I’m going to sleep instead of being with you.” you snort.
Alessia rolls her eyes but takes you by your hand anyway. She made you sit on a stool at the central island of her kitchen with a mug of tea. You listen to her, Alessia making almost all the conversation, but it’s always like this between you. You love to hear her talking, trying to remember every little thing she says to you.
Your eyes are going sometimes on her bum, you have to admit. But if she notices, she doesn’t say anything. You proposed to help her two times, but she refused, saying that you can help tomorrow. You will.
Her lasagna is amazing.
“It’s my Nona’s recipe” Alessia smiles when you compliment her.
You made the dishes for her, ignoring her protests, and end up cuddle with her on her couch in front of some film she chooses. But you don’t even try to look at it, you are way more interested about your girlfriend than Blake Lively fighting for her life. You try hard not to bother her too much, but you can’t stop yourself from kissing her cheek, her hair or playing with her fingers.
But Alessia doesn’t seem to mind, actually she has a small smile on her face every time you look at her.
“I missed your smell” Alessia mumbles after another kiss.
You smile, because you said yourself the same things a lot of time during the time you were at Barcelona. And you promised yourself that you will take one of her hoodies when you will leave.
You stroke the skin of her neck with your nose before kissing it several times. But then she softly bites your ear, and you feel your body being swept by electric currents. The sensations are hard to ignore.
They are so hard to ignore that you found yourself with your girlfriend, both naked, some hours later, laying in her bed. Alessia is laying on her back while you are on her belly. One of her hands is playing with your hair and you are trying hard not to fall asleep already.
“Can I ask you something?” Alessia whispers “But you have to promise not to mock me.”
“Of course you can Sweetheart. I won’t make fun of you, promise.”
You turn your head on her to have a better look at her and even if the light of her bedside lamp isn’t strong, you can see that she had blush. You watch her bite her lip and fight the want to bite at it, too. You need to stay focused; you are curious about what is in her mind.
“So… As you know, you are my first girl experiment” she begins waiting for you to hum before talking again. “Well to know how to do things right, I made some research and…”
“You made research?” you ask with a smile.
But Alessia frowns, slapping you softly on your arm.
“Babe, you promised!”
“I’m not making fun of you” you swear, still smiling. “I find it cute.”
Alessia groans and you giggle softly, moving a little on her to be able to kiss her cheek. She’s hot under your lips, attesting of your girlfriend’s blush. She smiles though and clear her throat nervously before talking again.
“So, like I was saying, I made some research and I saw that there is a lot of things to use when two women are, you know, having sex?”
“Yes?” you only say, not wanting to interrupt her again.
“It made me wonder if maybe you like to use them? And if what we’re making is annoying for you. And then I thought that maybe I should buy some of them, but I didn’t know which one you like, or you want?”
She stops talking, a little out of breath. She talked quickly though and that might explain that. She seems nervous so you take her hand in yours to try to sooth her a little bit.
“Ok, first, what kind of things did you see?”
Alessia blushes violently and you can’t help but smile again.
“Alessia Russo, did you watch porn?” you laugh.
“No!” she shouts, sitting up in the bed. “I went to website selling toys, I didn’t watch adult’s movies.”
You roll your eyes, asking yourself how a girl you just have sex with can be so shy about something like that. But that’s the innocent part of Alessia talking maybe. And you love it as much as you love every other part of her. You sat too when she sat up and you take support on her knees to lean on her and kiss her.
“Ok first of all, what we are doing is absolutely perfect to me. It’s special because it’s you and I love every second of it, every time even more.”
You are close to admit how much she affects you, but it’s not exactly admitting that you are in love with her for years. You want to reassure her anyway; you had your first time with someone before and you don’t want Alessia to feel insecure. Or worst, not enough.
It seems to work because she is smiling again, and you can’t resist to the want to kiss her again.
“But if you want to try some things together, we can do it too. Or if you miss something –“
“No” she cuts you, shaking her head. “I don’t miss anything I swear.”
She’s blushing again but you feel like she’s telling you the truth. When she talks again, she’s mumbling, looking at her fingers.
“It’s just that I never felt that way before and I want you to feel as good as I am.”
You could literally melt right now. You take a big breath, drawing her attention on you again.
“Lessi, you have no idea how good you make me feel. Really.”
She seems skeptical though, looking at you attentively. That girl will be the death of you.
“But I’m not experimented like the other girls you slept with” she points, frowning. “How can it be as good as you say?”
“I told you. Because it’s you.”
She looks at you for several seconds before smiling shyly, and you are smiling back. You are touched that she had this process and how much your well-being count for her. You sometimes struggle to realize that after all those years you are Alessia Russo’s… things. You really had to talk about it at some point, but the talk you’re having tonight is maybe enough for now.
“Do you want to buy some things though?” Alessia asks. “You didn’t answer about you having anything, but I don’t really want to use something you already… Well, you know.”
“I understand” you smile softly. “We’ll look together, ok?”
Laying down on the bed again, you take her in your arms this time, kissing her softly. She seems to be relaxed now and you let yourself go against Alessia’s mattress. You love sleeping here. Everything smells Alessia.
“By the way, please don’t tell Leah what we’ve done tonight. We’re not supposed to do something physically tiring the night before games.” Alessia smirks several minutes after, making you laugh.
********
You need a little bit of conviction to get up from the bed and your girlfriend embrace the day after. You are still a bit tired and it’s only the idea of Leah coming to find you both in bed because you are late that makes you get up.
“You are late” Leah grumble when you arrive with Alessia.
“Sorry, sleepyhead here had trouble getting up” Alessia smirks.
“I’m on the Spanish schedule, it’s not my fault” you yawn.
Leah don’t have time to grumble one more time, because the waitress came soon after to give you the menu to chose what to eat. You study it with seriousness, your stomach feeling a little bit empty.
“The usual Less?” the waitress asks to Alessia.
You frown, looking at your girlfriend who nod and give her menu back. Leah passes her command after her and you have to fight the strange feeling you have to ask what you want too. Leah seems to have forget about your delay when the waitress left, but you still have that mix of jealousy and discomfort. Alessia never hide what she does during her day, and she told you several time that she went to brunch or eat breakfast with some of her teammates, but you never imagined that there will be a pretty brunette who seems to know your girlfriend’s order by heart.
“I’m talking to you, Sleepy” Leah says, kicking you under the table.
“Wow, way to hurt your opponent?” you grumble while Leah rolls her eyes. “What was it again?”
“Keira. She asks me to remember to bring her Scones.”
“Oh” you smirk softly, remembering what happened in the locker room yesterday. “She told you that she knows about Alessia and I?”
You explain to Alessia yesterday what happened, and she’s smiling too. She didn’t look sad or hurt that you kind of forgot to talk about it to Keira.
“She told me she discovered because your teammates can’t keep their mouths shut” Leah smirk.
“It was Lucy to be fair.”
Leah rolls her eyes one more time while Alessia laughs, but your smile is quickly faded when the waitress is back. She once again turns in Alessia’s direction with a big smile at first, before giving Leah’s plate then yours. You don’t like the way she looks at your girlfriend or even how she smiles at her.
Your eyebrows are still frown when you look at your plate and suddenly the bacon in it doesn’t seems as yummy as it should. Being already concerned by your changing mood, Alessia discreetly take your hand in hers while Leah is concentrated in her plate.
“What’s up?” Alessia whispers.
“Nothing” you say, forcing a smile.
But that doesn’t work. Alessia frowns, looking deeply into your eyes.
“Communication, remember?”
You sigh softly. She’s right, you promised each other to always talk to the other is something is wrong. But you don’t want to do it here.
“Later, ok?”
Alessia nods, but she doesn’t let go of your hand and relax only when you start to eat. The food is delicious to be honest and you understand why Alessia keep coming here. You don’t know what you will say to her about your feelings, you feel bad at the idea of depriving her from this menu.
When you’re finish, you went right to the stadium. You follow Leah in the parking lot and then follow Alessia who introduces you to the different places and people who punctuate her training sessions. You meet almost all of her teammates too, even if you know some of them already. Like Laia Codina, who you know because she was at Barcelona and that you are happy to see again or Beth Mead with who you play for England.
You already know Lia or Jen because of Leah and you are kind of relax around the team. When they need to get training, Alessia goes with you to the friend and family section, holding your hand.
“So, what happened during the breakfast?��� Alessia asks.
You sigh softly. You have forgotten that you were supposed to talk to your girlfriend about this. You look at her and she’s already looking at you, concern in her soft baby blue eyes.
“It’s nothing, it’s just… that girl from the Café? The waitress?” Alessia nods, so you continue. “She was looking at you like you are the most beautiful thing in the world and she’s right because you are, but it makes me realize that she can see you every morning if she wants to and I can’t. And that made me miss you, which is probably stupid because you were sitting right next to me, but…”
You shrug, not knowing how to end your sentence. But Alessia nods once again, seeming to understand what you were meaning. Which is already relieving at your eyes. She squeezes your hand softly before answering.
“It’s not stupid at all, I understand the feeling. I miss to have you next to me in the morning and falling asleep against you at night. I miss you almost every second of the day. But we chose to give us a chance and we knew what it would be. I’m sure it’s worth it.”
You feel your heart fluttered once again and you look around you to be sure that no one is near you, before taking her tight in your arms. She holds you as tight as you are doing, and it help you to feel better.
“I have nothing to worry about, right?” you whisper with your chin on her shoulder.
“Nothing.”
She backs her head to have a look at you and she’s smiling softly. You trust her, of course you do. She’s like the sweetest and the gentlest human being. And then she kisses you, not long but softly.
When Alessia left you in the family and friend section, you go to look for your seat, but you are soon spotted by Amanda, Leah’s mom. She waves at you and makes sign for you to come to her, which you do because no one can refuse anything to Leah’s mum.
“Hi darling!” she says happily when you are at her level. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Oh, uh…” you mumble while she hugs you.
“Leah told me why you’re here, but don’t worry your secret is safe with me.”
She smiles at you, taping your cheek in a motherly way before making you sit next to her. You recognize next to her Leah’s nan, who you salute too. Amanda looks at your shirt, raising an eyebrow.
“Not wearing an Arsenal jersey?”
“Alexia would probably kill me if I do something like this” you laugh. “Maybe she would make an exception for Alessia’s, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Why that? Everyone seems to think that Less and you are good friends.”
Amanda seems to know what happened in the social media, with the video of you going to recomfort Alessia after the finale in Australia. Everyone said how much you are a good friend, choosing to make your friend’s feelings better rather than being focused on yours.
“I’ll think about it for the next time” you promise.
“Great. In the meantime, wear this.”
Without letting you the time to look at what it exactly was, Amanda put one Arsenal scarf on your shoulders. Leah’s face is print on it, and if you don’t see at least one twitt or one TikTok editing you with your friend, it would be a miracle.
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fiddleleafedfig · 3 days
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@wolfstarmicrofic | April 23:rd Teacher AU | Also inspired by this incredible post | 971 words
“It’s because I’m gay.”
Dora’s words had echoed in his head for the better duration of two years.
Two years.
Jesus Christ.
It sounds more clear now that there isn’t an ever pressing haze of alcohol clouding his brain. But alas, he frankly can’t afford to be an alcoholic anymore. He wasn’t even that good at it. A bottle of wine every evening and Remus just turned into a weepier version of his otherwise quite bleak self and watched old rom-coms on tv until he fell asleep on the couch.
But an English teacher’s salary isn’t hefty enough to really support a proper addiction and Remus hadn’t ever been the type of person to steal a car or break into someone’s house just to fuel his habit. With his luck he’d get caught right away anyway.
“This can’t come as a surprise, Rem, we never even had an active sexlife.”
Sure, fine, maybe they hadn’t. But they had been married for years; university best friends turned adult lovers and confidants turned married at twenty five and divorced at thirty three.
The divorce had at least been simple, easy, just like anything else about their relationship. One second she was there, dying her hair in the tub and staining it all bubblegum pink — the next she was moving out and downloading lesbian dating apps.
Remus munches salad from his little packed lunch. He should be planning his classes whilst having lunch — he refuses to, he’d rather sit here all bent-backed and pretend that the salad actually tastes better, that he isn’t regretting moving across the country to get away from it all. That his new life isn’t sinking his mood just like the old one did.
There’s a knock on his classroom door.
Remus looks up from his sad salad. “Come in?”
The door, covered in prints of Shakespeare plays and old illustrations of Of Mice and Men and other English class classics, opens to reveal the knocker.
Sirius has his hair in a bun today, black strands tied back and into a scrunchy that could rival the cheekiest of cheerleaders’. Other than that he is in his usual all black attire, all except his rainbow colored lanyard which holds his keys and the miniature periodic table keyring.
Sirius smiles. It’s all gray eyes that look like they’re sparkling under the hideous fluorescents and can make even the toughest lunch lady blush.
“Hi Remus, is this a bad time?”
Remus tries to swallow the tightness in his throat.
He can’t really deal with Sirius popping by like this, he’s done it quite frequently since Remus’ first week.
“No, not really,” he says, trying to keep his hands from fiddling and his eyes from darting around the room. “What can I help you with?”
Sirius shrugs, careless and relaxed. “I was just wondering if I could borrow your stapler. Seems like mine’s wandered off.”
Sirius drives a motorbike to school.
Remus saw him get off it in the parking lot not too long ago. It felt like the world stood still or maybe moved in slow motion when Sirius removed his helmet and shook his hair out, kitted out in leather. Then his neck got all hot, for some god forsaken reason, and he had to go splash cold water on his face before facing his students in the first period.
So many of Sirius’ supplies have gone missing in the short time where they have worked together.
“Erhm… Yeah, sure— absolutely,” Remus stumbles through sentences as he stands to go fetch the stapler in the supply closet. He turns the little key and quickly looks over the closet, a bit too aware that Sirius is coming closer; if he isn’t misinterpreting the scuff of boots on the floor.
He grabs the stapler, turns around. “Here.”
Sirius is right behind him, right in front of him now. Looking up at Remus with his easy smile and rows of lovely black lashes and… and… and pink lips.
“Thanks, I’ll give it back as soon as I’m done, okay?”
“Yeah…”
Sirius leaves. Remus has to go sit down, he’s feeling dizzy.
“Are you even attracted to me, Rem? I mean— it’s fine if you aren’t. Maybe I’m not your type or something.”
There was always something hidden in Dora’s words, at least in those words. Remus hadn’t come any closer to figuring them out, not even two years later.
He just sits in his darkening apartment, playing those words over and over whilst watching-but-not-really-watching tv. He should really go over to Sirius’ classroom tomorrow. You know, just to make sure he remembers to give the stapler back. And it has absolutely nothing to do with what Dora said those years ago, nothing at all.
In the following morning, Remus dresses in his good shirt and wrestles with his hair for a touch longer than usual. Why? Don’t worry about it.
He goes into work with a determination and anxiety churning in his belly.
He walks up to Sirius’ classroom, a print of Neil deGrasse Tyson on the door, and knocks.
Deep breath.
Sirius opens the door. Light eyes and smiling lips and an overall undeniably beautiful face.
Stapler, that’s what he’s there for.
“Will you go out with me?”
What?! No!
Remus was supposed to ask about the stapler!
Fuck!
Sirius just looks back up at him, glittering eyes and widening smile. He doesn’t say anything.
Remus tries to backpedal. “The stapler — I really need my stapler, that’s what I meant.”
Sirius just smiles. “So I just missed the point two second window of going out with you?”
There’s cotton in Remus’ ears, ringing in his brain. “No— I mean… Wait— Did you want to go out with me?”
Sirius’ smile looks like it’s almost too big for his face. “I thought you’d never ask.”
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wonderlandwalker · 20 hours
Text
Adventure Unlocked | Eddie Munson x Reader
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Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox
Summary: You unexpectedly figure out a new kink Eddie has and plan the perfect moment to test it out
Content Warnings / Tags: Smut, 18+, porn with very little plot, PnV
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: Once again not proofread but I haven't had much time to write recently so still wanted to post this. Got the idea from a request @urhoneycombwitch read and couldn't get it out of my head so here's my take on it.
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It was supposed to be just another day at Eddie's trailer, a study date like the two of you regularly had, where you would try and catch up on reading and Eddie would do anything but. Except dates with Eddie were rarely like they were supposed to be, and today wasnt an exception. He was sitting at his desk, working on a new campaign while you sat at the bed with your books spread out, trying to concentrate but inevitably reading the same paragraph over and over again.
“Can you hand me the folder from the nightstand please?” You weren’t listening, not really anyway, only humming in respone, causing him to call out once more.
“Sweetheart, hand me the notes.” He was more assertive now, his tone of voice deeper in order to capture your attention, and it worked. 
“Yes sir.” It was meant as a quip, as banter the two of you were so used to, but Eddie’s head shot up the moment you said it. You noticed the blush creeping up on his neck as his mouth was slightly opened, eyes staring into yours. And just as quickly as it had happened, it was gone. A small cough to recover his composure and his focus back on his writing, but you still caught his glance everytime he looked in your direction, still noticed the manner in which he fidgeting wirh his pen. You had noticed, and there was no turning back now.
"Eddie" he only hummed in response to your inquiry, not daring to make eye contact just yet
"Eddie, look at me" he was slow to comply, nervous about your response, because Eddie wasn't stupid, the cat was out of the bag now.
"Does that turn you on?" Still hesitant, he moved his head up once more, not realising how much closer You had gotten to him by now, but the moment he looked at you, all his worries disappeared, because your expression was soft, there was a twinkle in your eyes that he could only describe as exited, and the way your pupils were dilated told him he wasn't the only one into this.
"Yeah" it was barely a whisper, a confession he didn't think he'd be making, so delicately given because he knew you would never crush it. 
Just as you were leaning in to connect his lips with yours, the front door opened, and Wayne shouted to inform you he had gotten home from work, having picked up dinner for the three of you on his way, so you decided to put a pin in your new discovery. 
The next days came and went as the both of you were busy trying to keep up with life, and Eddie didnt push the subject, perhaps worried it was not something you were comfortable with, but little did he know he only needed to wait a little bit longer, because you had been planning. Planning the perfect moment to continue where the two of you had left off, and right now while you were at the hellfire club is where it all came together, 
He looked at the clock above the door and back to you, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.
“Where is everyone else?” They were never late, always so eager to get started they wouldn’t dare miss anything.
“I told them we’re starting a bit later today” Your tone was nonchalant, and it threw him off further.
“Why would you tell them that?” He looked so cute while thinking so hard, trying to trace back the day to figure out what had warrented this.
“Because I have some other plans first.” You had pushed your chair back, walking over to where he was sitting.
“What are you talking about” He was still very much in the dark, not quite catching on to pitch in your voice dropping ever so slightly.
“Don’t you have a quest for me?” You were standing in front of him now, supporting yourself on the arm rests of his throne, he was getting flustered with how close you were, fidgeting from his clueless nature. 
“I didn’t prepare any new adventures.” He looked up into your eyes as you leaned down closer to whisper in his ear.
“I’m sure you can think of one, dungeon master.” You could feel his body shudder from how close you were, and as you leaned back you saw his pupils dilate. 
“Do you mean-”
“Yeah” That’s all it took for him to understand, because he immediately took the opportunity to capture your face in his hands and kiss you with all the might he had. You’re sure he could have simply kept doing that all night, but you had other plans. So you started to trail kisses down his neck, paying extra attention to the pulse point right underneath his ear that you knew made him grow weak every single time, he was putty in your hands, and that’s exactly how you liked it. 
After a little while you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes. You could see him struggling to keep his eyes open as you palmed him through his trousers, already hard from the idea alone. He wasted no time in shimmying out of them as you tugged at the fabric, letting it pool around his ankles. 
You didnt waste any more time taking his dick into your hands, stroking him slowly as you watched his head fall back and hit the back of the chair, but that was the last thing on his mind right now.
“Baby please” it was closer to a whine then it was to a question, and it turned you on just the same. You looked up at him once more, the tension causing him to catch your gaze before you spoke.
“Why don’t you make me?” It was a challenge, one he wasnt about to turn down. It only took one more look into your eyes, seeing the calmth behind them, before he complied. He raked his hand through your hair, twisting it in order to get a grip as he pushed your head down towards where he needed you the most. You were more than happy to comply, using your tongue in a sloppy attempt to keep up with the rhythm in which he was pushing down your throat. Eddie’s size had always been hard to take, but with practise and patience you had gotten better at it, breathing through your nose now as he hit the back of your throat, causing a slight gag from you which in turn made him realised a loud moan of your name as he leaned back into his throne. 
“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” It was sweet, how he could be so out of his mind and still remind you, still praising you.
His grip faltered and you took it as a sign to double your effort, taking him deeper until your nose nestled against his pelvic bone, making you gag against him. A borderline sinful moan left him at the feeling, and as you were about to prepare yourself for the feeling of his cum sliding down your throat, he pulled you off him. For a split second you wondered if something was wrong, but the moment you met his eyes and saw the raw lust radiating in them, you knew what was about to happen.
“I need to be inside of you sweetheart, sit on my lap” This was the Eddie you had been trying to lure out, and you wouldnt dare let him ask twice. 
So you got off your knees and as you stood up his hands found the backs of your thighs, pulling you into his lap. His mouth attached itself feverishly to your neck, sucking bruises you’re sure would be visible for days, not that you’d mind. His hands were everywhere now, roaming over your ass and finding their way underneath your shirt as he took your nipples between his fingers and tugged at them, causing you to arch your back, leaning further into him.
“Does that feel good baby” His tongue was still hot on your skin, and the question was muffled by your own body, not daring to lean away from him. All you could do was moan out his name, desperate for him to continue. But right after you did you felt a sting on your ass as one of Eddie’s hands was now massasiging the flesh and his other found its way under your chin, tilting your head to look at him.
“That’s not what you call me now is it.” His tone had dropped an octave, and it was driving you insanel. “I’m sorry.. sir” Immediatly a grin appeared on his face.
“Much better sweetheart.” he moved his head in order to be able to attach his lips to the upper part of your breasts, every once in a while using his teeth to nip at the flesh there. In the meantime his hands made their way back under your skirt, kneading your inner thighs as he inched closer and closer to where you needed him the most. 
“Tell me what you want.” 
“I want you to touch me.” He looked up from where his mouth had made its home, a gleam in his eye that you werent sure you should feel worried or excited, but it sent a thrill down your spine nonetheless.
“I’m already touching you.” 
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean, hm” His fingers trailed closer to your core as they slipped your underwear to the side, sliding over your folds, teasing you.
“You’re so wet for me already, is this where you need me honey” 
“Please-” He kissed you as one of his fingers entered you, his thumb tracing slow circles on your clit as he swallowed your moans.
“That’s it princess, think you can handle another?” You wanted to answer him, but all you could do was nod as he looked at you expextingly, reconnecting your lips in a searing kiss the moment he added another finger, crooking them and causing you to cling onto him, your nails leaving faint scratch marks on his shoulders.
But as the feeling started to build he removed his fingers from inside of you, not leaving you empty for long as you could feel his hard dick at your entrance, pushing all the way inside with one thrust. It always made you feel so full to have him inside of you, and this time was no exception, the way he was stretching you feeling so good.
“Fuck, you’re taking me so well, perfect for me.” His breathing had become laboured, and the way he was already ruthlessly thrusting up in you you figured he wouldn’t be lasting long either. 
“Need you to cum for me sweetheart, think you can do that?” Once again all you could do was whine as your head rested on his shoulder, hoping he knew you well enough to know what you needed.
“Fucking you so good you can’t even talk anymore. Don’t you worry, I’ll take good care of you.” He found your mouth in a slow kiss, much different than the ones before, now he took his time, exploring with his tongue and silencing all the pleas that left you. The moment his long fingers found your clit you were a goner, all that built up tension and pleasure toppeling over as you came undone around him, your walls spasming and gripping him even tighter, etching Eddie towards his orgasm as well.
“Shit baby, where do you want me-”
“Inside, need you to cum inside of me” That’s what did him in, he didnt waste another second as he pushed his hips into you, his cum painting your walls as he let out more profanities. 
For a minute the two of you sat there, with him still inside of you as he traced gentle patterns onto your back with his fingertips, his face nestling into your hair as he basked in your presence.
“We’re definitely doing that again.” His matter of fact tone made you giggling, causing him to squeeze his arms around you in a tight hug
“Whatever you say, dungeon master” His eyes immediately grew dark again at the title, looking down at you with that glimmer you loved to see.
“Careful what you say sweetheart, I can go another round right now” Just as he was about to prove it to you, a series of loud knocks came from the door. “Why is the door locked, are you guys in there?” Dustins voice rang from the hallway, and Eddie started to get up in order to let them in.
You got up in order to move to the chair next to him, but just as you were about to sit down Eddie grabbed you by the hips as he sat down in his throne, positioning you to sit on his lap as you got started on today's session. As you were playing his cum started to drip out of you and onto his leg underneath your skirt, and from the way he started squirming you knew he noticed as well, telling you this definitely wasn’t over yet.
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myrunawaysweets · 2 days
Note
I loved your recent post abt human Alastor x reader in the 1920s. Of course this is only a suggestion, what if you continued on with this? Maybe like having them move in with each other, start a family? Perhaps have a tragic ending that resulted both to go to Hell, or maybe reader be a fallen angel! Just all suggestions! Have a great day/night/evening<3
I dont know how long this was in here, I was scrolling through settings to mess around and found this, so I hope you didn't wait too long!
But this is one of my specialties and I'm honestly really flattered that you made a request!
The next day, the cops found a bloodied body in the alley beside the club. The corpse was too disfigured to recognize, knees bashed in backwards, jaw hanging loosely, ribs tearing out of the chest and a smile etched into the poor bloodied face as it hung on the wall.
Surely this was the work of the smiling killer in New Orleans, who else could it be?
No one had ever laid eyes on the killer and lived to tell the tale... except you.
You had been held by the psychopath in a loving embrace, wrapped up in a blanket on his couch.
For some reason, when you looked into this man's eyes, his gorgeous brown eyes as he softly smiled at you... you felt no fear, no urge to run or hide.
Yes you knew he had killed people, that he was no better than a monster... yet you couldn't help but think what made him this way. Everyone knows not to trust a bad apple, but not everyone suspects the tree that bears bad fruit... so you couldn't blame him, after all, why would you blame the apple for the trees wrongdoing.
Instead, you held onto him and stuck close.
Now you peacefully kneaded dough as your loving boyfriend drank his bitter coffee in your bakery as a customer walked in. Marjorie, a nice old lady who came by every second day for a box of beignettes.
"(Y/n)! Have you heard the news?"
You looked up from your dough, flour had stuck to your apron as you wiped your hands "What news, ma'am?"
"Theres been another murder!" As the words left her lips you could see alastor tense up as you studied him.
The poor lady was shaking as she opened her purse "it was a young fellow around your age! He had such a long life ahead of him too..."
You could see alastors hands shakily lift his cup to his lips.
"What a terrible thing! Here, have these on the house, as a thank you for your patronage" you smiled, handing her the box and pushing her change back towards her gently.
The lady smiled with a thank you before turning to leave.
"Say hello to Mr Broussard for me will you?" You waved at her as she closed the door.
As soon as the door closed you slammed the oven shut with the bread inside.
"ALASTOR HARTFELT!"
The coffee spewed from his lips as he stood up to face you "honey listen-"
"Don't you 'honey' me! You promised you'd stop this!" You placed your apron on the counter as you circled around to meet him at the cashier "You said you were out to go hunting!" You poked his chest as you cornered him.
"(Y/n) it wasn't a lie! I was hunting! For the scum of the earth!" Alastor held his hands up in defense from your accusations, trying to reason with you and get back onto your good side.
"You know damn well what I think of your little hunting!" You grabbed your purse and started for the door before he blocked your path.
"(Y/n), dearest, where are you going?" His smile could not hide the panic in his eyes.
"Away from you, I'll be at mimzys until you can decide which one you'd prefer to give up "you pushed him aside and opened the door "me? Or your little 'huntin'?" You slammed the door as you walked to mimzys club.
Just because you didn't care that he did the murders before, didn't mean you were okay with him continuing them. Part of you thought you could eventually get him to see the good in the world again and leave behind this cold blooded killing, he loved you enough to do that at least right? Then maybe when you two grow old and wrinkly, God could open the golden gates for both of you... if your foolish boyfriend could ever stop hurting innocent people...
You sat on the stool with mimzy, drinking a glass of wine.
"I just don't get it! How can he keep choosing to go 'hunting' almost every night, mimz?! Doesn't he see the danger?" You sighed.
The short blonde looked at you "what can I say dollface? Boys will be boys! They've gotta have some sort of hobby, an most of the time, it's a gruesome one! Why can't they just take up knittin or even painting? Always hunting or boxing I say" mimzy took a swig "and every night? That's harsh! Doesn't he see how pretty you are?"
The two of you giggled.
Nights like these were always nice, just you and mimzy sitting in the empty bar, drinking and talking the night away.
"At this point mimzy, I think its better for me to just stay alone though, it doesn't seem like he's changing anytime soon and I don't know how long I can take this" you looked down at the glass, running your finger along the brim...
"Its okay girly" mimzy rested her hand on your shoulder "I'm sure he'll come around eventually, either way, I'm here for ya"
She really was one of your best friends.
Your conversation was interrupted when you heard a slight creak in the floorboards behind you two, making you turn around.
"This place is really getting old, I'm gonna need to find a way to get a new place" mimzy sighed.
The night went by fast as you two talked, and before you know it, you were right back in front of your bakery, sign lights were off as you opened the door, silently clicking the lock before making your way to the upstairs where your humble abode resided.
Alastor most likely went to blow off some steam, he tended to do that after your arguments/fallout.
You had left in such a hurry that you forgot to take out the bread from the oven, but luckily, alastor had seen you bake many times and finished the loaf before placing it on the cooling rack.
By the time you finished downstairs, it was midnight as you started walking upstairs, exhausted from the days work and alastor fiasco.
When you opened your door, you were met with a nervous Alastor standing straight and tense in front of you.
"I have something to say-" you both said in unison.
Alastor seemed to tremble as the words left your lips, still unable to make eye contact.
"I know it's not very gentlemanly of me, but may I go first?" His words almost came out as a mumble as his smile was strained.
You nodded, indicating he may continue.
"Thank you" Alastor took a shaky breath before looking you in the eyes "darling, I know I haven't made it easy for you with my... hunting... but I promise-"
Anger boiling in your blood, you interrupted him "do you know how many times you've told me that lie, Alastor?" Your nose scrunched up in anger as you tried to hold back tears "how many more times am I going to keep hearing this?"
Alastors wide eyes showed the fear he had of losing you, making your heart ache even more than it already was.
"I promise... my dear, this is the truth" Alastor took a gentle step forward, eyes trained on the ground.
placing your hands in his "I've put a lot of thought into it... and although I don't like the idea of being unable to kill those filthy vermin... I realized i can't live in a world without you in my arms"
Alastor ran his fingers gently over your knuckles, a gentle smile placed on his lips, almost dropping to a frown.
"I can change... and I know you want me to, I'll put in the effort to become the man you want, the man you need..." Alastor lifted your hand to his lips, closing his eyes as he placed a soft kiss.
The anger you felt died down, but still hesitant, you asked "how can I be sure you mean it?"
Finally looking back into your eyes again, he knelt down on one knee, still holding your hands "I, Alastor Hartfelt, would like to ask you, (y/n) (l/n), for your hand in marriage, I swear on my mother's grave that I will never take your words lightly, love you with undying devotion, and never kill again" he then rested his forehead onto your knuckles gently before he desperately whispered "please"
This proposal was not exactly practical, considering your argument not even 6 hours ago. There was no ring, no classy dinner, it wasn't how anyone would imagine a marriage proposal, yet here you were, heart beating rapidly as you felt tears fill your eyes.
Your words felt stuck in your throat as you looked into your lovers eyes "do you mean it?"
For what felt like the first time, Alastors smile dropped as his face held a serious expression "with all my heart, ma' cherie"
Your knees buckled as you fell into his arms, tears streaming down your face as you held your lover tightly, whispering out a shaky "Yes" into his chest.
Months went by, the wedding went off without a hitch.
Mimzy was your maid of honor. No one else was really there for your wedding, considering your family had cut ties with you years ago, and all Alastors' relatives were either deceased or overseas.
Nonetheless it was a happy and joyful union.
Alastor had kept true to his word and never killed another human, kissing your shiny ring every night like a reminding prayer.
Your bakery gained popularity since you were now Mrs Hartfelt. But popularity has its downsides... it wasn't long until women started talking about you, jealous of your position as Alastors wife.
The words themself didn't hurt you much, but the constant harassment and inability to leave the house without being called a harlot, that was slowly getting to you.
Alastor had assured you many nights before bed that things would get better, and if need be, he would give up his career as a radio host. The poor man would do anything for your happiness, anything to assure that you'd stay his forever...Even kill if you'd permit him to.
But there was only so much Alastor could do... it wasn't until one evening when you failed to show up to your shared home that he began to lose it.
Alastor was on edge, thinking of all the possibilities, you could've been held back at the bakery by a man who held ill intentions, you could be checking in with mimzy or got taken by a jealous fan. So many thoughts raced through his head as he slowly made his way to the door to look for you, eventually deciding against it, sitting back down as he patiently waited for your return...
Except you didn't.
It wasn't until a whole sleepless night had passed when he decided to go search for you. But of course, he came home empty handed. Were you unhappy in this marriage? Did you elope with a man he didn't know about? Did you realize you didn't love him and run away?
The second option was to call the police, something he's never done before.
The police launched an investigation, it was only until a month later, you were found in an alleyway, someone had called the cops about a crazy woman attacking a man, the situation escalated to the man killing her in self-defense.
They found traces of drugs in your blood, filing you as a drug abuser.
your body was frail and malnourished, pale like it had been weeks since you last seen the sun.
Alastor was called to the scene to see if this lady was indeed his wife.
When he arrived, he felt like the world was about to open up and swallow him whole.
As his eyes fell onto your pale lifeless body, something snapped inside of him.
You were never one to use drugs, never one to attack someone for no reason... something was wrong.
He knelt down and held your hand with tears in his eyes. Although he had seen many dead bodies in his life, this was the one body he never wanted to see like this.
He hated how your body was treated the same as the trash that walked the earth, like a lowly peasant when instead, the world should weep for the loss of you.
'This is all wrong' he thought, as he cradled your body in his lap as your blood stained his white shirt, but he couldn't care less as the last ray of light left his dark world.
It was long after your funeral, he hasn't been able to sleep since then. Every night he'd wait until daybreak for your arrival, like this was all some twisted joke.
It wasn't until one day he realized you needed revenge.
Yes, he promised to never kill anyone, but that was when you were alive, when you were beside him, when he was able to fall asleep with you by his side every night, Before you were selfishly taken from him.
He hasn't slept in days, maybe weeks? He couldn't remember... all he knew was that the man needed to pay for what he did to you...
It took a while but he eventually found the lying heathen.
There he was, sitting at mimzys bar, the same bar he met you, sitting on the same stool that YOU would sit on... it made Alastor sick watching this man live like he didn't take you away from him.
Alastor walked in, and sat beside the wretched man.
"You seem familiar" Al questioned, sipping on his whiskey.
The smug bastard grinned before turning to him "I'm the hero that took down that crazy bitch not long ago"
It took all of Alastors' willpower to seem calm and oblivious.
"My, you must be quite the hero then, let me buy you a drink and you can tell me ALL about it" Alastor motioned for a drink to be served, and the unknowing bastard fell right into Alastors wicked game.
It didn't take long to say the least. This prick was an easy target, and now here he was, being buried in a forest in the middle of nowhere.
You surely would not be happy with your dear husband actions... but who could stop him now?
For months, the spilling killer of New orleans went on a rampage, almost no one was safe, not even dear old Marjorie...
Eventually, alastor had killed all the men and women involved in your kidnapping and drugging... and here he was, burying the last one...
What would he do now? You weren't there for him to return to... all his plans revolved around your future with him
I guess all he could do now
.
.
.
Was Die
As if on cue, a bullet pierced Alastors skull straight through his forehead... as everything went black...
Hello! I've been working on this for a while now, at least a week, and I think I'm just going to make another part for this, keep an eye open for it cause it will hold the afterlife of these two lovers!
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thatacotargirl · 1 day
Note
Hiii, I saw your posts about taking requests! (loving Shadows and Surprises btw 👏)
How about a nice fluffy one-shot (take your pick of the bat-boys 😊) where reader wakes up on her cycle with bloody sheets and bad cramps, and she starts apologising about the sheets but she's in a lot of pain, but he immediately takes care of her and pampers her (changes sheets, runs her a bath, gives tea and chocolate, lots of cuddles and kisses, etc)
Ahhh I love this, it's so cute! Thank you so much for the request - I hope enjoy!
Inbox is open for requests so please do send any through!
Warnings: blood, vomit, general pain (?)
A Cassian x Reader Imagine
It had been a few months since Rhysand had introduced you to his Inner Circle. What started off as a small part-time job working on his accounts and book-keeping turned into a full-time lifestyle. After the first 2 weeks of proving yourself invaluable to him and his Court, Rhys invited you to move into the House of Wind and work alongside him full-time. Your tiny studio apartment with mould, rats, and goodness knows what else inside the walls was not the most luxurious of lifestyles, and you had already grown so attached to the rest of the Inner Circle that you jumped at the opportunity. It also helped that you had developed a teeny tiny crush on the delicious male that was Cassian, so living in the same home as him made life just that little bit sweeter.
Life had, truthfully, never been better.
Yet today, you felt sluggish. Tired. Frustrated. And what made it worse was that you had no reason to feel that way. You had slept well, eaten well, trained that morning - you should be at the peak of your health. But today was finding every possible way to challenge you. After confusing an 8 for a 3 for the third time that afternoon, you threw your pen across the study in complete exasperation. What was going on!
At that moment, the study door cracked on a touch, and the familiar scent of Cassian wafted in.
"Are you ok in here y/n? I heard a bang?". A bang was an understatement considering you had chucked a gigantic book on the floor in your frustration that near shook the House.
"Yes I am fine" you replied through gritted teeth, refusing to turn and look at him. You had tears in your eyes for reasons you could not explain, and you didn't want him to see you like that. Why on earth were you now crying over a 3?!
Cassian walked over to you and gently held your chin, pulling your face to look at him. You breathed in his scent, feeling an instant calm, and took a deep breath. When your eyes met his, Cassian looked at you with concern.
"You look exhausted, y/n, have you been sleeping?" he asked.
"Yes, Cassian, I have been sleeping - I think I'm just having a bad day that's all" you replied, a little too harshly, pulling your eyes away from his so he couldn't see the tears re-forming in response to his gentle worrying. You response made Cassian's concern grow, so he bent down, scooped you off the chair, and carried you out of the study.
"CASSIAN PUT ME DOWN" you shouted, smacking at his shoulders, mindful to avoid his wings.
"Not a chance. You look like you need to sleep, and considering you nearly bit my head off when I asked, I am insisting that you at least humour me with a one hour nap" he retorted, carrying you up the stairs to the second floor. You noticed that you passed your own bedroom door, and had been walked straight into Cassian's. He put you down on his bed and walked over to draw his curtains. You started to protest, but you couldn't deny that his bed was particularly comfy, and his scent had such a calming effect on you that your lids were already getting heavy.
"Sleep", Cassian said, pulling the duvet up to your chin. "I will wake you in an hour".
You wanted to argue back, but you hadn't truly realised how tired you were, and with the warmth, the scent, the darkness, the quiet, you found yourself quickly drifting off for your Cassian-prescribed nap.
-
The door creaked open exactly one hour late, and Cassian froze. He couldn't sense a threat, couldn't see anyone in his room besides you still curled up asleep in his bed, but he could scent blood. He padded over to you, concern lacing his voice as he gentle called your name and shook your shoulder to wake you.
"y/n? It's been an hour, are you ready to get up?" he asked, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. You stirred and slowly leant up on your elbows, peering at him with half-asleep eyes. You opened your mouth to respond, but suddenly felt yourself hit with an intense stomach cramp and your mouth watered with nausea. You flew from the bed, pushing Cassian to the side as you headed straight for his bathroom. A few moments later and Cassian was beside you, holding your hair and rubbing your back.
When you had finished, he carefully leaned you back against the edge of the bathtub.
"Are you ok?" he asked, his face etched with worry.
"Better now I think", you replied, "I'm so sorry Cassian I don't know what came over me, maybe I ate something funny, I was feeling a bit off all day before you found me".
"So when I asked if you were ok earlier, you lied" he said, although the corners of his mouth tipped up into a small smile.
"Potentially" was all you could get out, before another wave of pain and nausea took over your body and you crawled back towards the toilet.
"I'm just going to head down and get you a glass of water, ok? Stay here" he ordered, before turning quickly on his heels and heading out.
After you had finished, Cassian still hadn't returned, so you decided to hoist yourself up and get back into his bed, feeling a bit better on the nausea side - although still having some stomach cramps. It was when you reached the side of the bed you had been sleeping on that you looked down and saw the large pool of blood covering the bed sheets. Gazing down, you realised it was not only covering the bed, but also covering you - bright red coating the entire inside seam of your pale blue leggings, almost down to your knees. You shook violently, panic and embarrassment taking over your entire body. You quickly threw Cassian's pillows on the floor and started to tear at the bedding, wanting to get it off and change it as quickly as you could before he could realise, but you had barely got half of the bed sheet off the giant bed before Cassian re-appeared in the doorway.
You turned to face him, a tray in his hands, and crumpled onto the floor. This is exactly what you needed today - the hot General that you have a major crush on has tried to do something nice for you and you have completely put your foot in it and destroyed his bed. Great. Just fab.
"Hey hey" Cassian quickly put the tray on his desk before dropping down to your level. "What's the matter?" he asked. You couldn't even get the words out between your sobs, gesturing blindly at the bed and yourself. You hid your face in your hands, utterly mortified.
Cassian's confusion was so evident that you dared to glance up at him. "Are you ok?" was all he asked. You nodded, then shook your head, then resumed sobbing. He pulled you into his chest and let you continue until your tears turned to small sniffs.
"I guessed when I opened the door" he said quietly, his hands stroking through your hair. "Your mad dash to the toilet was all the confirmation I needed - you almost sent me flying off the bed and, whilst I train you well, you're not normally that strong" he teased.
"I'm so sorry" was all you could get out, head still buried in his chest.
"Nonsense, what is there to be sorry about?" he asked.
"I ruined your bed".
Cassian laughed and helped you both stand up. "I quite literally cause people to bleed for a living. A bit on my bed is hardly cause for concern". He guided you over to the tray he had brought upstairs.
"So, I have got you some peppermint tea to help with the nausea, Rhys gave me a tonic he gives to Feyre to help with the pain - but he said Feyre always complains about how bad it tastes, so there's a lemon drop sweet for after just in case - and I stole a slice of Elain's chocolate cake that was in the fridge because I thought you might like that - oh and some cheese. I'm not sure why, but I thought you might want some, I always think cheese helps make any situation better, but maybe not if you've been sick..."
He was so excited as he showed you all the goodies he had found for you that your embarrassment fell away completely, even though you realised he must have announced your situation to the entire house downstairs. Before you could make any comment, he grasped your shoulders and walked you back to the bathroom, where the House had run you a lavender scented bath.
"Hop in the bath, freshen up, and you can enjoy the cake" he said, with a beam. He handed you a fresh set of pyjamas he had taken from your room and closed the door behind himself to give you some privacy.
After your soak, you changed and headed back into his bedroom. The sheets were fresh, with no sign of your incident, and Cassian was lounging on his side with a book in hand. You noticed that the book you had been reading, a smutty romance recommended by the House, was resting on the other pillow. Cassian must have grabbed it from your room when he got the pyjamas. He smiled at you when you came back and offered you a hand to climb onto the bed next to him.
"You are staying in here tonight, ok?" he said, "I don't want you to be alone and refuse help if you need it, especially since you were so stubborn earlier".
You laughed, quite happy to stay in Cassian's bed. He pulled the tray over to you both and offered you the peppermint tea and a fork for the chocolate cake.
"OH WAIT, take the tonic first!" he said, handing it to you. Feyre was right, it was disgusting. But, it did help the dull ache in your stomach, enough so that you were able to happily enjoy your slice of stolen chocolate cake. You made a mental note to apologise to Elain tomorrow.
After you were quite full and content, and had settled down to read for a while, you felt your eyes getting heavy again. Cassian noticed, and pulled you into him. You revelled in the comfort, enjoying every moment of it - you didn't think you'd ever get another chance to be this close to him and you certainly weren't going to pass it up.
"Sleep", he said "it'll help". He started to read aloud from his book, helping you to ease into a deep, deep sleep. One of the best sleeps of your life.
"Thank you, Cassian, for everything" you mumbled, eyes closed.
"You are welcome, y/n" he replied, pulling you closer to his body.
You were silent then, your body and eyes heavy, your brain slowly quieting and shutting down for the night. You felt Cassian lean down, assuming you had fallen asleep, and place a gentle kiss on the top of your head. As sleep called to you, you heard him very quietly whisper into the dark, "I would go to the ends of the Earth for you, y/n".
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aziraphales-library · 21 hours
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Hi there!
I was wondering if you had any recommendations of fics that have Aziraphale as a priest? i’m in search of some but have no idea how to find them.
only ask is that it’s 3k words and up!
Thanks so much for all you do, you are truly the foundation holding the fanfiction side of Good Omens together!
lots of love x
Hello! We have #priest Aziraphale & #priests au tags. And of course there is the priest Aziraphale tag on AO3. Here are more to add to our collection...
All The Lights That Light The Way by FeralTuxedo (E)
On the run from a disastrous work Christmas party, Anthony Crowley encounters an angel singing in the streets of Soho.
& Forgive Us Our Trespasses (Of Which The First Is Love) by ineffable_angle (M)
Fleabag-inspired AU where anthropologist Dr. Anthony J Crowley becomes friends (and then definitely more) with the hot priest Father Aziraphale Moore. They meet at their high school reunion and discover that they just can't quite stay away from one another. Mainly, they debate evolution, go to brunch, and overcome Anthony's religious trauma. Some scenes and dialogue from season 2 of Fleabag do show up, but the plot is not the exact same.
The scent of incense on his fingers by gimmewhiskey (E)
Crowley knew what was twirling on Aziraphale's tongue. “Don't even think about saying you forgive me," he whispered, then turned and strode quickly to the door. Aziraphale stared after him for a few moments longer. He slowly raised his hand and touched his lips. There was a scent of incense on his fingers. ...Or the story of how a successful lawyer Anthony J. Crowley successfully pretends to forget his old love while Father Aziraphale atones for sins for them both.
(Let's) Do it again by gagna_onni (M)
Father Fell has lived his whole life in a small town in Wales. His life is simple, the community is kind and welcoming and he does all he can to help everyone. One day a guest arrives at his clergy house. And right after his arrival, things start to change in an unexpected way.
in your own time by ineffabildaddy (E)
Aziraphale and Crowley grew up together as next-door neighbours on Hogback Lane, classmates at the local Catholic school, and inseparable best friends. By the age of eighteen, both were hopelessly in love with the other, despite the knowledge that they were doomed to live apart, as Crowley aimed to pursue university study in London and Aziraphale committed himself to remaining in Tadfield, dedicating his life to the Church. After almost twenty years spent away from his hometown, renowned botanist Crowley decides to come and visit Tadfield again at a moment's notice; the purpose of his visit is to speak at a Careers Day for the school he and Aziraphale, now a beloved priest and a frequent helper at the school, attended. The twenty-four hours that follow will change both of their lives for ever.
Faith, Hope, and Love (And the Greatest of These Is Love) by khh1961 (E)
A young Father Aziraphale Fell takes up his first post as a junior priest, under the stern supervision of Monsignor Gabriel (who very much likes things to run his way, thank you kindly) and meets fellow parish priest, Father Anthony Crowley. Our young Father Fell is immediately captivated by Father Crowley's handsome face, ginger hair, and dead sexy Scottish accent. This looks to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. But what else it may become remains to be seen. Love and the will of God are both ineffable.
- Mod D
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Text
Muddled Waters 1
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: your boss has a dangerous secret.
Character: Nick Fowler (mob au)
Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.
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You skewer candied cherries on a long toothpick and balance them over a martini glass. The deep blue drink with a layer of foam is perfectly aligned with the crystal brim. You stand straight as you top off the last of the drinks, a new batch for the waiting customers.
You put the small silver measuring cup aside and nearly cry out as the silhouette hovering in the corner of your vision moves. You touch your chest in surprise as you face Nick with a bashful smile. You didn’t even know he was around that day. Lately, he’s been absent more than not.
“Oh, hi,” you laugh at yourself, “I didn’t hear you...”
“I have a bad habit of that,” he grins, “some have compared me to a cat.”
You tilt your head, “some? You mean, me?”
He shrugs, “was that you?
“Maybe,” you turn and carefully move the stemmed glasses to a tray.
“New flavour?” He nears and stands close. You can smell his cedar cologne.
“Blueberry,” you explain, “bit sweet for my tastes but it fits the season.”
“Ah, sounds interesting,” he reaches and takes one of the glasses and you gasp.
“Nick!” You turn to him and he grins as he sips, the foam clinging to his top lip. He hums as he removes the toothpick from across the rim and nibbles off one of the cherries.
“Tasty,” he commends.
“Why-- Now I’ll to make another.”
“They can wait. It’s more than worth it,” he assures, still standing close as he slurps.
You work in the warmth of his looming proximity. He’s never had much of a personal bubble. Working behind a bar, you’ve grown used to being crowded. You measure and pour and muddle. You garnish and set the drink to replace the one your boss took.
“Right, ready,” you declare.
“Here, let me get those,” he slides the tray across the counter before you can react.
“No, you don’t have to--”
“I want to. Boss man’s gotta do some work around here,” he scoffs and lifts the tray. “You take a load off, sweetheart, I need those hands well-rested. No one else has that magic touch.”
You tisk and shake your head. He can be ridiculous. You won’t complain, he’s the least uptight boss you’ve had. The place isn’t too bad. Upscale with well-tipping patronage. It’s not your typical bar. Most of your work is done behind a wall as the customers drink in private rooms or in the common room where refined jazz wafts through the dim air. The whole place drips of exclusivity.
You clean up and wipe the counter before you wash your hands. Another order appears on the screen. Customers order on a sleek touchscreen, unbothered by servers amid their hushed conversations. You assume they are the types with private jets and luxurious yachts. Of course, they’re too special to drink like normal people.
You start up the next order. Spiced apple cider. A classic though it’s not often ordered. Two to put up. You mix the drinks in mason jars with thick handles. You finish them each with a cinnamon stick.
“Ready to go?” Nick has you squeaking again.
“God,” you throw your hands up and laugh, “how do you keep doing that?”
“Hey, not my fault. You’re in the zone. You know, you get all squinty,” he makes a face, “it’s like the whole world doesn’t exist. Makes me feel a bit small.”
“Mm, well, I guess you’re right. I should pay more attention to my surroundings,” you lift the mugs, “I got these, Nick.”
“It’s no problem, one of my buddies,” he wraps his hands around the jars, “been a while since I’ve seen him.”
“Oh, okay then,” you let him take the cups.
“Take it easy. You do too much.”
You smile tightly and lean on the counter. He goes and you turn around to tidy again. You can be precise. You like a clean station. You’ve worked with too many people who leave the bartop littered in lime peel and broken toothpicks. You can’t make a good drink if you’re working in filth.
But it isn’t just your work. You try not to let the personal seep in but you can’t help who you are. Things should be just so. Books should be lined up and sorted alphabetically and the dishes should be stacked neatly, and the carpet can’t be crooked.
You exhale and run your hands over your apron. Most people might envy your boss for his high company and exorbitant wealth, you just covet his coolness. He’s never bothered by much.
“Sweetheart,” he enters, this time with fair warning. You look up at his pet name. He always calls you that. “What’s that chocolate one you did last time?” He snaps his fingers, “you know, it was kinda creamy--”
“Brandy Alexander,” you answer, “yeah, uh, we’re out of dark creme de cacao. I put it on the inventory.”
“Inventory,” he nods and his blue eyes flick away guiltily, “yeah, I was supposed to do that.”
You cross your arms, “yeah, you were.”
“Sorry, sweetheart, I swear, I thought of it,” he crinkles his nose, “but it must’ve slipped my mind.”
“Mhmm,” you sniff, “well, you have been busy. I didn’t even know you were in town.”
He looks up and his cheek dimples. His gaze falls back on you, “lots of running around. Sorry, sweetheart, if it was up to me, I’d be right here, tasting all your delights.”
You nearly snort but instead just furrow your brow.
“What?” He asks.
“Nothing,” you shrug and turn away, the screen showing another order. “Sometimes... the way you say things...”
He chuckles and leans his elbow on the counter, “I do like to choke on my own foot.”
“You know, I said before, I could make time for inventory. I don’t mind making orders--”
“Don’t bother,” he cuts your offer short, “I know people. I can take care of it. I’ll make a few calls tonight.” He stays as he is, angled against the counter as he watches you. He rests his chin on his knuckles and you glance over as you squeeze a lime dry.
“What?” You ask as you measure out the juice.
“How’d you learn to do all this?” He asks.
“I took a few courses, worked a few dives,” you say, “did a gig on a cruise ship. You know, you figure it out.”
“And you enjoy it?” He says, “I mean, I can tell you do.”
“It keeps my hands moving and my head from racing,” you explain as you mix the drink in a shaker.
“Sounds amazing,” he stands straight, “sooner or later, I need to find something to keep me busy. Something that doesn’t make me crazy.”
You garnish and he swipes up the glass before you can stop him.
“Well, you might just have a calling as a waiter,” you say sarcastically as you wipe your hands on a towel.
“I don’t know about that,” he grins, “I’m not much for taking orders.”
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yuuuhiii · 12 hours
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omg hi if you’re still doing matchups i wanted to request a jjk one please! mmm readers pretty soft spoken, and very quiet. def a listener rather than a talker. a little bit dry honestly and pretty much relies on others to keep the conversation going😭 what else let me think…mm idk really likes cats? pretty girly i suppose but doesn’t like being called out on it☝️ omg super shy and hesitant in relationships but craves attention anyways. i think that’s it, thank you!!
i match you with YUUJI ITADORI ᥫ᭡
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Yuuji is infatuated.
For the umpteenth time he’s out with Nobara. And this time he’s silently thanking her for forcing him to come because he would have never seen you. You’re so gorgeous, he thinks. He’s moving before he can even think but he’s not against it.
“Hey.” He says and you tense.
He’s tall, big, and attractive. You smell a faint perfume on him, and he has big eyes that remind you of a puppy. You’re sure if he has a tail, it’d be wagging.
“Uh! This probably really weird. But you’re so beautiful I was wondering if I could get to know you.”
You’re taken aback by his words and boldness. You were going to politely decline yet those damn eyes and smile held you from doing so.
That was the first day Yuuji had talked to you and now you guys were dating.
It had taken quite sometime for Yuuji to get you comfortable and to open up around him. However he did accept that that’s also just how you were as a person.
You were a woman of few words and he had no problem with it. He’d love to ramble about anything and everything as you hummed and looked pretty.
Although when it came to you coming by a cat, he swears he’d die of cuteness overload. The way you just naturally attract them and the smile you adorn has him wanting to kiss your face off.
Cuteness aggression was definitely his thing.
Especially when you’d get shy over his compliments. The first time he kisses you and pulled away, he whispered against your lips.
“You’re so perfect.” He could feel the exact moment you turned red and he smiled big.
Every moment after that he’d call you pet names, never failing to let you know how beautiful you were inside and out. One thing Yuuji did notice about you though was how shy you were to initiate affection. He’s still not used to it, when you crave his attention and actually act on it.
Like the one time you knocked on his door, evening hours.
“Oh? Hi cutes.” He smiles and you flush. You don’t say anything but you hug him and he freezes. His arms quickly cage you in against him.
“You okay?” He asks, voice laced with concern.
You hum, “I just missed you.” He immediately smiles, kissing the crown of your head he pulls you in his room.
Or the time you were once again in his room as he played video games. The whole time he could feel your staring and he’d noticed the way you’d fidget with your hands. Eyes still on the tv, he speaks.
“Are you okay, pretty?” He sees you jump, eyes moving quickly.
You then stand up and as he’s about to tell you to kindly move but you kiss him. His controller falls to the floor, making you jump away.
“N-No!” He squeaks out, his eyes lidded and a pretty blush on his face.
“Kiss me again.” He says mindlessly and with the both of you red as a tomato, you do as he says.
You don’t have to use your words, you don’t have to lift your finger because Yuuji knows you. He knows what you like and what you hate. It’s easy for him to give you just what you want without you asking him.
In this case, cuddling. He scoop you in his arms, laying you against him as your breath would even against him.
Yuuji loves how reserved and soft you are, you ground him and keep him sane.
What would he do without you.
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© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms
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wildemaven · 2 days
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night school teacher! javier peña x f!reader | q & a
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@holacia3 had left some questions about Retired Night School Teacher Javier Peña, so I thought I’d make a separate post to answer them. Thanks so much for sending these!!
What made Javi fill in the vacant teacher role? Did he just move here? Simply transferring from another local school/ uni?
In my head he's retired from the DEA and his dad is encouraging him to do something else besides helping him on the ranch, something that he would find more fulfilling.
Chucho tells him about the community college looking for a replacement teacher for their night school program so he applies. I hadn't really thought about what he would be teaching at this point though.
Are you two having these late night talks at the school or going somewhere else before/after the building has to close?
In the beginning, it's at the school before class. As they get to kow each other more, it's after class. Javi gathering his things promptly, then joining her while she finishes prep work and packing her own things up. I picture there are some evenings where they get to talking and lose track of time, Javier being a gentleman walks her to her car to make sure she gets there safe, waiting for her to leave before even heading to his truck.
Eventually Javi would ask her to dinner. It probably nothing romantic at this point, both of them just enjoying each other's company. Maybe she then invites him to something one weekend, a concert in the park, he doesn't hesitate accepting the invite. Maybe that evening he kisses her for the first time, and it becomes apparent that there's something more blooming between them.
Has this Javi always been a teacher? Or a second career after his time at the DEA ended?
No, definitely a secondary career after the DEA
Do the other teachers/administrators know how handsome he is? Do the students make any comments to him or you?
I'm sure other teachers do know how handsome he is. I don't think anyone makes comments in the beginning, both of them keep it relatively quiet and to themselves.
What's his day life like? What's he up to outside of teaching hours?
He probably still helping his dad as much as possible, even though Chucho continues to tell him he doesn't need it.
When does he start leaving notes? On your desk? Is this a no-texting kind of relationship/ situation?
Maybe it's after the concert. The next time they're at school, she finds the concert ticket on her desk with a not about how he enjoyed himself on the back. She keeps it in a special place in her book bag.
How long does it take for you two to get breathless???
I feel like it isn't a rushed thing. I don't really have a back story for them as of now, but neither of them begin talking to each other with the intention of just right out sleeping with each other. It's kind of a slow burn and happens organically over time when they develop feelings for one another.
He's a lady's man in Narcos - is he already involved with someone else when you two first meet?
No, he isn't involved with anyone. He's very much single and has been for a period of time.
How is reader's love life before Javi shows up across the hall?
She's had prior relationships, few serious ones throughout her dating life. Maybe even an engagement or previously married. I think when they both meet, she herself is single two. Which probably helps the connection grow stronger between them as time goes on.
Thanks again for these wonderful questions!!! Really made me start to plot and think about their story a little more. 💕
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barnesafterglow · 3 days
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night shift
summary: your growing fame becomes too much for bucky
pairing: actor!bucky barnes x singer!reader
word count: 2k
warnings: fame au, dual pov, unreliable narrators, idk how the grammys work (clearly), angst angst angst, steve is a good friend, bucky is Going Thru It, if you think this is joe + taylor coded you're prob right, directly inspired by night shift by lucy dacus
a/n: yearly fic, dedicated to new lovers
masterlist - i no longer have a tag list but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary to get updates! 🤍
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You shoved him off of you, heart racing, breaths coming fast. You had said Bucky’s name, had whispered it in your most intimate moment, and now you needed to leave.
You said nothing else, gathering up your clothes and pulling them on as quickly as you could.
“Wha-”
The door slammed behind you, cold winter winds whipping around you as you realized you’d left your jacket on the hook by the door. It was your favorite, but one you were okay sacrificing as long as you didn’t have to face your embarrassment anymore.
Huffing a breath you could see in front of your face, you called an Uber - at least you had remembered your phone - and paced anxiously a block away from his building, hoping and praying he wouldn’t follow you out.
The entire ride home your mind spiraled until you turned off your phone, terrified this would make headlines already and, let’s be honest, no one would be surprised if it did. You hated that was the life you lived. As if your breakup with Bucky hadn’t already been tabloid fodder for weeks now, the public speculating every detail and warping every comment and photo posted. You had taken to keeping off social media altogether in the time since, trying to disguise your outings as much as possible and take back alleys to recordings and friends’ houses.
Your biggest supporter through all of this, surprisingly, had been Steve - Bucky’s best friend. He hadn’t been your friend first, sure, but he had become like a brother to you nonetheless, and he knew the situation better than anyone. You knew he still talked to Bucky just the same and, while that stung a little, you couldn’t fault him for being there for his childhood best friend too.
Which is how you ended up outside his apartment the very next morning, clad in your typical-as-of-late attire of a hoodie and a hat and sunglasses. It was also how you came face to face with Bucky for the first time since that fateful night.
“I didn’t come to sit here and watch you stare at your feet, James.” You stood from his couch, starting to seethe with pent up anger from your gradually failing relationship, all to end up here. What did he want? To absolve his guilt and shake hands and everything would be fine?
No. You had been the victim of his petty remarks and anxious jealousy for so long. You wouldn’t let him think he deserved your time when he didn’t respect the person you had become. 
Your anger flashed back to the week before, the last time you had been seen out in public together as he was breaking up with you at your favorite coffee shop, where he had paid for your drink and you gave him a hesitant kiss, even though you knew it was inevitably coming. He had led you to a table in the corner and proceeded to tell you that he was sorry but he couldn’t do this anymore, it was too much for him - you were too much for him. Okay. That’s all you said was “okay” before you pushed out of the chair and walked around the city until the sun went down.
By the time you got home that night, the headlines were already speculating your breakup, though neither of you had yet to shed a single tear.
-
Bucky blinked as you shuffled on Steve’s doorstep, eyes wide and contemplating the quickest escape. He didn’t blame you.
He had admittedly not handled your breakup the best; in fact, he regretted it almost immediately at the stricken look on your face, clearly not expecting it. He didn’t blame you for that, either, seeing as it had slipped out in a moment of panic.
You had gained a lot of fame over the course of your relationship, even more than him, and he didn’t quite know how to cope with it. And so the words had poured out, unable to be taken back, and here you were, weeks later, still at odds.
He thought every night of how to make it up to you. Public displays weren’t your thing and you had blocked his number the night of your big fight, so that was out of the question, and he didn’t fancy showing up to your house only to have the door slammed in his face either.
But now, now maybe that you were here on the most neutral ground you could stand on, maybe he could keep his foot out of his mouth and apologize. Words stirred in his hindsight, unable to string together a coherent sentence as your face morphed through the stages of grief in record time. Then, just as he was about to speak, Steve placed a hand on his shoulder and gently guided him back into the house. Relief flooded your face as you drifted out of his sight, and he realized this probably wasn’t going to be as easy to take back as he thought.
“Buck,” Steve said as the two of them turned around the corner. “You need to leave.”
Bucky felt his face do something awful, a mixture of confusion and guilt, but he decided to keep his mouth shut. He simply nodded and kept his head down as he shrugged on his jacket and passed by you in the doorway.
He could hear the soft sound of your sobs as the front door clicked shut.
-
Songwriting could be as easy as breathing and as hard as climbing a mountain. Right now, the words flooded out of you like a tap of water.
And so did the tears, staining your notebook paper and smearing ink, but still in your heart you knew you would never forget these lyrics - these words that so painstakingly came from your soul and laid it bare.
As you finished the last verse, you took a deep breath, sucked up the tears, and called Natasha. 
-
“Steve, I need to talk to her,” Bucky whined over a beer in a rundown bar in Brooklyn.
“No, you don’t.”
“I can fix it, I know I can.”
“I don’t think you can, Buck.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving his lips. “She’s trying to move on. Don’t ruin that for her.”
“But-”
“No.”
Bucky mimicked Steve’s sigh and leaned back in his chair. It had been increasingly hard to justify his decision to end things with you. He didn’t know what he was thinking and he regretted every moment of it since then. 
“Do you think she misses me?” Bucky looked so hopeful, but he could see the sorrow in Steve’s eyes.
“I don’t know.”
-
The Grammys, the fucking Grammys, and you were performing. You were nominated for a couple, and the Academy had asked you to sing - preferably a new song - in honor of that.
Natasha wrapped you in a hug, twirled you around, and announced you were going out to celebrate. You hesitantly said yes, knowing the press would be everywhere and there was always the possibility of seeing Bucky.
But fuck him. This was your moment.
Which is how you ended up at your favorite dive bar in Brooklyn. Your first mistake.
It was your favorite because Bucky had taken you there so many times. But you couldn’t think of another place you would celebrate than the place where so much inspiration and so many lyrics had come from.
You didn’t scan the room as you walked in with your hand clutching Nat’s, the rest of your small circle of friends following close behind. Your second mistake.
Walking straight to the bar, you didn’t notice Bucky in the far corner, watching your every move. It wasn’t until you were a few drinks in, feeling the celebration kick in, that you spotted him.
At first, you intended to ignore him. This was your time, your night, your moment. He didn’t get the spoil that.
That is, until you went to the bathroom and he trailed you into the dimly lit hallway.
“Baby,” he whispered, his voice a harsh rasp of beer and no sleep. “I’ve missed you.”
Your heart stopped beating in your chest.
You weren’t prepared to see him tonight, not that you ever were these days. But tonight of all nights, the one that should have been carefree and fun and a glittery memory for years to come, was smeared with anger and heartbreak as you spun to face him.
“What the fuck,” you snapped as his fingers grazed your bare arm. Immediately you felt bad, seeing the hurt on his face, and your expression softened. “Sorry.”
“I-it’s okay.” The catch in his voice broke your heart, your own watery eyes matching his. For just a moment.
It took you too long to come to your senses - this was the man who had shattered your heart without a second thought - but he was already so close to you. His body only inches from your own, his hot breath fanning your face, and goddamnit you missed him. You missed him so much that your heart broke all over again.
Your mind cycled through a thousand different thoughts all at once: get away, come closer, touch me, keep your hands off. You couldn’t decide what you wanted in the moment.
You were so, so angry, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to him. His hands settled on your waist as the lights overhead flickered. Your hand pressed gently to his cheek, completely of its own volition. Suddenly, you were tracing the planes of the face you had once known so well. He looked older now, like your time apart had aged him, yet his was still as handsome as the day you had first laid eyes on him.
His eyes locked with yours, and neither of you said a word - not him to ask, not you to stop him - as he leaned in to kiss you.
-
It should have felt like a victory - it did feel like a victory - but there was something else there. Something dark and twisted and Bucky couldn’t figure out if it was coming from you or him.
The kiss could have lasted moments or a lifetime, he didn’t really know. All he knew was one second you were holding him close to you and the next you were shoving him off.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” your voice came out in a whisper, like you didn’t want to draw attention from the steadily growing crowd of the bar. He supposed you didn’t.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” You nodded at his words, your fingers pressed to your lips like you could still feel him there. “I’ll just go.”
You nodded again, your eyes vacant, and he made his way back to the main room of the bar. He looked back in time to see you slump against the wall, and he knew that you were thinking of a way to erase any trace of him on you.
-
The stage lights came on, you strummed your guitar and started to sing.
The first time I tasted somebody else’s spit, I had a coughing fit.
You let the lyrics you poured your heart into spill out across the stage. Still, somehow - in the crowd of hundreds of faces - you spotted Bucky.
This time, it didn’t make your heart clench. Didn’t make you shed a tear or run away.
No. This time, it empowered you. Let him hear the lyrics he inspired. Let him feel that pain of your words and feel the hole in your heart where he had broken it. Where you were now healing.
-
Bucky watched as you sang, and you were mesmerizing. He could feel the echoes of hurt in your words, the hole in your heart he had put there. He knew, despite the last time he saw you, that there was no making up. There was no fixing what was well beyond broken. No chance for him.
In five years I hope the songs feel like covers,
Dedicated to new lovers.
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corruptedcaps · 2 days
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Bitchy Besties: part 2
In the car ride over Tanya gabbed about everyone in high school and all their dirty little secrets. Kate couldn’t believe the insight she was gaining about the other students she had known for years. Tanya even spilled the beans on her best friends.
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Kate figured Tanya saw Kayleigh as more of a peer than some beta follower like the rest of Tanya’s friends. Despite despising Tanya, Kate found it somewhat rewarding having her bully so enamoured with her.
Tanya brought her around to all the bougie stores and they tried on outfit after outfit and the two were having a genuinely good time together. Kate had never worn so many tight and revealing outfits but she had to admit that they all looked great on her.
Finishing up with a trip to the nail salon, they both got a matching set of new press on's. As the beautician worked, Kate entertained her bully with fabricated stories of her life, who thankfully seemed to eat it up. Some stories were just things Kate remembered Tanya had done but she tweaked certain details to be more ‘Kayleigh’-like, whatever that had come to mean.
Posing for a selfie together, the two girls proudly showed off their new nails.
“This is going to blow up on socials babe, two hawt bitches like us. What’s your handle so I can tag you?” Tanya asked.
Kate started to panic, a girl like Kayleigh would certain have more social media than anyone else but Kate had never bothered. She had to think of an excuse.
“Oh I don’t have any. Well not anymore anyway. Remember the cyber bullying I told you I was doing before? Well my parents made me delete everything, otherwise they weren’t going to fund my trip to Paris.” Kayleigh said sounding genuinely pissed at her fabricated parents.
“Well did you go to Paris?” Tanya asked.
“Eh yeah, remember I told you about the hot French guy I fucked there?” Kayleigh replied.
“Then the statute of limitations are up.” Tanya said grabbing Kayleigh’s phone from her hand before she could be stopped. Tanya was like a pro quickly setting up new accounts for Kayleigh. In 60 seconds flat she handed the phone back.
“Now to tag you in this gorgeous pic of us. Annnnnd posted. You’ll be royalty in this town before the end of the day. So naturally I gave you the handle QueenKayleigh. No need to thank me. Don’t you love it?” Tanya said with a gleeful smirk.
Kaleigh pulled up the post of the two of them and saw the caption read “Hanging with my new BFF @QueenKayleigh, add her now! She’s the real deal.” Kayleigh stared for a long time at ‘BFF’. She had never had a best friend before, it felt kind of nice even if it was Tanya. Speaking of which she realized that Tanya had been waiting for an answer.
“Oh babes this is amazing, we look like twins don’t we?” Kayleigh said to a waiting Tanya who beamed at her.
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“Totes! A pair of bitchy babes. Oh looks like you’re blowing up already.” Tanya said as Kayleigh’s phone started a waterfall of chimes. Kayleigh looked down at her phone and sat a barrage of likes, comments and follow requests. It was kind of overwhelming but satisfying to see so many people give her attention.
Comments such as ‘dammmmmn! Who’s the new hottie?’, ‘queens!’, and ‘omg, instant follow!’ were quickly going to her head, she did look stunning after all. Each chime was like an endorphin hit.
“Thanks hun, this will help me jump the social ladder to the top, where sexy babes like us belong. Assuming I pick your school.” Kayleigh said with a natural bitchy purr.
“I hope you choose to come to our school babe, it’s a dump for sure but together the two of us would be unstoppable together. The names Kayleigh and Tanya will make all the losers shudder and all the boys hard. Speaking of which I think I see one checking you out right now.” Tanya said nodding over to a handsome guy sitting in the food court.
Kayleigh looked over to see a handsome college aged guy smiling at her. It had taken her years to attract the meagre attention of Cory and now the hottest guy she had ever seen was checking her out. She remembered the Evie stories and tried to picture what the girls in those stories would do. Standing up she turned and gave Tanya a wink and strode confidently over to the guy.
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“Hey hot stuff, were you going to stare at me all day or were you going to ask me out?” She said with a tilt of her head and a sly smile. The guy seemed taken aback by the forwardness but quickly gained his composure.
“Eh yes of course I’d love too. How’s Saturday?” He asked. Kayleigh felt a power over him that she had never felt before. His eyes drank her in and he seemed eager to please. He wanted her and he would do anything she asked. She had to test it out. Remembering how Tanya snatched her phone from her, Kayleigh quickly took the guy’s phone from his hand and started to type.
“No. You’ll pick me up Friday, 9pm, got it? Here, you’re following me on Insta now. DM later for my address.” She said playfully as she handed his phone back to him.
Tanya couldn’t tell what they were talking about from where she sat but could see Kayleigh had the guy wrapped around her little finger. Kayleigh seemed to be having fun, giggling, touching his arm, playing with her hair.
“See you Friday Lucas, and don’t be late.” Kayleigh said wrapping up their flirtation finally. With a cheeky smile, she turned on her heel and strutted away. She felt his eyes on her butt and made sure he had plenty of time to take it all in.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Lucas shouted after her.
“Oh babes you’re such a baddie. He’s gorgeous. What did you two talk about?” Tanya asked eager to hear.
“We’ve got a date on Friday.” Kayleigh said with a nonchalance tone.
“Oh girl you work fast, I’m so jelly. I should have pounced on him first.” Tanya said with a smirk back to her.
“Oh you misunderstand me babe, when I say ‘we’ I mean you, me, him and his frat brother. They’re taking us to a club. Maybe we can swap at some point during the night, if you’re that keen on him.” Kayleigh said grinning as Tanya listened, her mouth open.
“Kayleigh, where have you been my whole life? You’re the baddest bitch ever.” Tanya said suddenly hugging Kayleigh.
The whole act seemed to momentarily dislodge Kate from what she was doing and stand back mentally from it all. Only yesterday Tanya was bullying her and she was an outcast and now she was suddenly her best friend with plans of a double date that she had orchestrated! What was she doing? The whole scenario was bizarre and she realized that this wasn’t her, she needed to wrap this up and fast.
“You ok babe?” Tanya said noticing something off.
“Yeah, yeah of course. Just been a long day.” Kaleigh said feigning a yawn.
“Yeah for real, let me drive you home.” Tanya said but Kate suddenly panicked. Tanya couldn’t see where she lived plus she needed to retrieve her clothes still.
"No my parents are expecting to pick me up at the school so you can drop me back there." Kayleigh said already getting up.
The drive back to the school was quieter than the ride to the mall. Kate was deep in thought, her mind at war with itself. Tanya continued to gossip but Kate wasn't taking it all in like before.
"Are you sure you don't want me to drop you home babe?" Tanya asked, sensing something still off about her new friend as she got out of the car.
"No I'm perfect hun, it will give me time to think about my choices." Kayleigh said with a smile.
"Well you know what I hope you choose, this school could use Kayleigh and so could I. See ya later!" Tanya said returning the smile and speeding off. Kate stood in front of the school unsure what to do next.
To be concluded...
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fushiglow · 3 days
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satosugu mailman au 💌
a very special delivery for @kymsys's birthday! how many days will it take for satoru to fall in love with his new mailman? let's find out!!
here's part one for my tumblr pals to enjoy! however, i'll be posting this work over quite a few days over on twitter/x, so please head over there if you want to follow along! if you don't have an account, i'll be uploading the entire thing to my ao3 when it's done — so don't fret ♥️ enjoy the fic!!
There were three things Gojō Satoru loved above all else: sweets, scale model kits, and sleep. He was a simple man in that sense — really, he asked for very little except a healthy supply of sugary treats, the occasional plastic mech, and an undisturbed lie-in seven days a week. So, when the shrill ring of his doorbell wrenched Satoru from a beautiful dream at exactly 8am on a Monday morning? Needless to say, he wasn’t pleased. Now, Satoru wasn’t an unreasonable person. He understood that the rest of the world started moving a little earlier than him — which is why Satoru had taken special measures to protect his precious rest without hindering anyone else. He’d chosen a job that allowed him to work from home, forgone the company of a housemate in favour of living alone, and — most importantly for a hobbyist like Satoru who ordered more kits, paints, and crafting tools than any one person needed — installed a secure parcel drop box outside his front door, preventing the need for anyone to pester him. That’s why Satoru didn’t bother getting out of bed after the first ring, assuming that the person who’d decided to disturb him would eventually figure it out for themselves. Perhaps they were a bit slow though — because less than thirty seconds later, the doorbell came screaming through the house again. Swearing into his pillow, Satoru pulled the duvet up to his ears. All he could do was hope they’d leave quickly so he could snatch at least some sleep in the 45 minutes left until his alarm went off. No such luck. Right when Satoru thought it was safe to relax, the doorbell started up again — and this time, it didn’t stop. With a stream of profanities falling from his lips, Satoru hauled himself out of bed, seeing red as he stomped down the stairs and marched across the hallway to the front door. He flung it open with a frustrated snarl, preparing to share some choice words with the impatient piece of shit on the other side — only for his insults to die on his tongue at the sight of the man standing before him. The broadest shoulders he’d ever laid eyes on; thick arms, tanned and toned; a muscular torso tapering down to a tiny waist — and all packaged in a uniform, for god’s sake. When Satoru finally managed to lift his jaw off the floor, he looked up at the man’s face and the damn thing unhinged from his skull all over again. He was all sharp cheekbones and sunkissed skin and the sweetest smile Satoru had ever seen. Perhaps a little too sweet now that he really looked at it. ‘I think your doorbell is broken.’
Sure, the guy was hot — easily the prettiest person Satoru had ever seen — but that didn’t stop his eye from twitching at the blatant passive aggression masked behind that sickly sweet smile. Satoru matched it with one of his own. ‘I assure you, it’s not.’ ‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ Satoru didn't think he seemed sorry in the slightest — even if his voice did sound like melted chocolate. ‘I’ve got a parcel for Gojō Satoru?’ When hot mailman tilted his head to the right, a lock of glossy black hair fell into his face. Too short to secure in his bun and too short to tuck behind his ear, he simply brushed it away from warm eyes the colour of honey. Satoru wondered if every part of him was as gorgeous. ‘It needs a signature.’ Shocked out of his stupor, Satoru's gaze travelled to the box at the right of the door. ’The regular guy always puts them in there.’ Hot mailman simply beamed at him. ‘Do I look like the regular guy to you?’ No, Satoru thought. There’s nothing regular about you. As though he could read minds, hot mailman winked at him. ‘Then I’ll need a signature, please.’ And god — he was so effortlessly charming that, for the first time in his life, Satoru found himself speechless. For a long moment, he simply stood there, gawping like an idiot. When hot mailman eventually quirked an amused eyebrow in his direction, Satoru had no choice but to take the signature pad being waved at him, managing to make a hash of his name before wordlessly handing it back. Having completely and utterly embarrassed himself, Satoru had started to retreat into the safety of his home when a strong hand closed around the edge of the door. Hot mailman popped his head around the side. ‘You forgot your parcel.’ Satoru watched those amber eyes as they slid down the length of his body — and hot mailman's sickly sweet smile morphed into a devilish grin. ‘Your clothes, too.’ Glancing down at himself, Satoru’s heart stopped in his chest when he realised he’d answered the door in nothing but his boxers — and not fitted Calvin Kleins that emphasised what he was working with either. No, the ratty, stretched out Digimon boxers he’d owned since he was 17. With a mortified squeak, Satoru snatched the parcel from hot mailman’s hands and slammed the door in his face, uncaring of whether his stupid bangs got caught in the doorframe. Tossing the package onto the floor, Satoru brought his palms to his rapidly heating cheeks, taking a moment to stare into the silence of his hallway. Then, he summoned all the air in his lungs and let out the single loudest ‘fuck!’ he’d ever produced. Hot mailman’s beautiful laughter travelled down the entire length of the driveway.
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