#i crave the traction

[tallbidraws]

arthur lester, PI, circa 1934

[hijinks-n-lowjinks]

teaser for my itafushi fic…………. 👀

[yokyoaaa]

OMGOMGYY AUGSHSHBS THANKUALLL SOMUCHHH

Random personal thing, it's literally so funny that in my first post I thought kirby was just a lil hiperfixation that will eventually fade over time- someone in the tags of my first post said that hiperfixations never truly go away- they're so right

Anyways- thank u all so much for sticking by!! I can't wait to come up with more art and ideas in the future :D

[pataconesfrias]

ヾ(☆▽☆)

if anyone plays toontown rewritten, club penguin, animal crossing or any game that involves dress up and/or horror — anything a 25 year old hermit like me would play…….can we be friends lols

my irl friends are very much offline and i would like to renter the digital friendship verse again bc meeting people in person is 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

🩻🦷🐛❤️⭐️🏴‍☠️🧠🫀🪡🪱🪲

[adventuringblind]

He Must Be Lucky!

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: fluff and crack

Summary: Max gets wasted and can't remember that the reader is his wife. It's endearing how much he simps bith sober and drunk.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, a wild party (at least for Max), Max being down bad

Notes: This one is for @amajixi! I hope you like it! Does anybody wanna send me asks and talk about drivers with me? Give me your most feral thoughts because I'm genuinely curious... please >_< (I even turned my anonymous asks back on please just send me things).

Side note: my fics haven't been getting much traction as they usually do. Is it something on my end? Have y'all disappeared on me? I know I shouldn't care, but y'all are the only ones that validate my writing T_T

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Max has a track record of partying hard. It's who he is, and she lives him for it. There isn't any kind of gripe of hang-up, just Max having fun and doing dumb shit that makes her laugh.

Lando is throwing a - well - a party. There was an excuse for it in the invitation, but she's too buzzed to remember it.

The echoing sound of Max's laughter ricochets off the walls. Daniel is with him, probably getting them into more trouble, but she knows Daniel will look after him. At least until he's trashed and can't get off the floor.

Alex brings her another shot glass. She has no idea what's in it, but Alex is letting loose, and she'll be damned if she doesn't partake.

He raises the shot glass in a toast. "To whatever this party is!" He cheers. They clink their glasses together and down the shots. She gags at whatever was in it.

"The fuck was that, Alex?!" She sputters.

He gives her a blank look. Really thinking hard about what he gave her. "I've got no idea."

The hours seem to tick by. The people are slowly dissipating, leaving the safety of this weird little bubble they've created.

She's lightly buzzed still, having danced off the majority of the shots Alex had her doing. The couch is her new best friend, and Lando had brought her a blanket at some point in the last twenty minutes.

A weight on the other end of the sofa catches her attention. Max, with complete adoration in his blue eyes, is staring at her. "Wow," he slurs. "You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen."

She laughs at his drunken thoughts. "You're not too bad looking yourself, babe."

The smile on his face is almost childish. It's big enough to almost fall off. His cheeks tinged a darker red with the blush adding to the alcohol flush.

"Go on a date with me? Please?" He tries to pout, but it ends up looking awkward mixed with the grin.

She flashes the ring at him. "Sorry, I'm spoken for." Alex and Lando are giggling from where they are watching this interaction unfold.

Max looks like a wounded puppy. Eye's glossing over like her might cry. "He must be such a lucky guy. You're just so perfect!"

"Awe, love, you wanna know a secret?" She leans in to whisper into Max's ear. "You married me."

If Max could hand you the world on a silver platter, he might have tried in this moment. The Dutch is vibrating in pure, unadulterated joy. Like a child who just got the ice-cream they were so desperately craving.

"Holy shit! I'm the lucky guy!"

Max smothers himself against your body. Eventually falling asleep, mumbling about how she's so amazing, and how he loves her so much. It's endearing to here his drunk affections laid bare for everyone to see.

It's the lullaby that calms her to a restful state. Fingers tangling with the softness of his hair. "You're not the only one who's lucky. I guess I'm pretty lucky, too."

[cecenyss]

I honestly pity people who have posts that go viral because I have one post with like 700 notes and let me tell you the week after posting that was hell

[raitonsfw]

𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 | 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚞 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

synopsis: They made a fucking bet – whoever made you cum first wins first fuck of the night. The drawback? They can't drop their cursed techniques, Gojo with his Limitless and Geto with his Curse Manipulation. You can only imagine where this was gonna go, your legs already spread open wide for the sorcerers.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader (she/her pronouns), threesome, inappropriate use of cursed techniques, sex toy (vibrator with insertion), clit play, doggy style, facefucking, creampie & cum swallowing, dirty talk, banter, satosugu arguing like idiots, geto pisses gojo off, geto kinda cheats, toji's worm pins reader down, gojo's love language is touch (so this is really hard for him), gojo being a bit cocky and geto being a bit condescending, satosugu don't interact sexually (i know, i'm sorry), endings kinda weak but who cares?

a/n: with this treasure i summon– dunno came up with this plot like a few weeks ago cuz i was really intrigued by satoru's technique and not being able to touch him like- if there are mistakes, just know i suck at distinguishing the power system of jjk so my bad. wc: 2.2k. m.list

divider credit: @hitobaby

“Aw, she’s crying…” You heard from afar and you knew instantly– you were fucked. 

“Satoru, don’t tease her.” 

The two men made a bet– of who could get you to cum without dropping their technique wins first fuck of the night. Naturally, Gojo had it much worse as he couldn’t touch you but Geto was able to do whatever he pleased… with the exception of his curses clinging to you. And that made you squirm with discomfort– you hated his curses, they skeeved you out and you were worried they might attack you even though Geto’s assured you many times he has full control of them. 

You reached out for Gojo again but you were met with traction, the slipping feeling of reality falling apart and breaking your hand’s outstretch. Tears slipped from your eyes as you were fooled yet again, the pressure vibrating through your body becoming way too much and you tried to pull from Geto’s grasp. But the wormed curse he summoned kept you tight and taut against the heat of the mattress, the vibrator flush with your clit and you frowned.

You couldn’t cum like this– with the way Geto’s slimy purple worm looked, so goddamn disgusting…and all you wanted was Gojo’s affection. You wanted him to touch you– to crave you like he always did. He was such a touchy man and the fact that he sat in front of you without so much as reaching out killed you.

Geto had you in his lap, the worm clinging onto one of your arms and the other expelled out towards Gojo. Geto ran the vibrator down towards your entrance and you writhed against him again, your back arching up with a whiny moan but you were met with the babbling of the wretched worm next to you and you instinctively tried to flung it off. “Getooo… Get it off me.” 

Geto pressed a tiny kiss to the back of your head, his other hand stroking your hair with a quiet murmur of ‘sorry baby…’ which didn’t make you feel any better. Gojo sat in front of you in a criss cross position, looking quite bored as he leaned his elbow against his knee. “Bring out another curse, Suguruuu. Toji’s worm’s weak.” 

“I’m not going to scare her.” Geto sighed, his hand faltering on your cunt and you visibly relaxed as he pulled it away from you. Instead he slipped the other part of the vibrator inside you curtly, leaving it there as his fingers brushed your clit. “At least I can touch her.”

Jealousy flashed on Gojo’s face as Geto rubbed circles on your clit, earning another whine from you– a long needy whine too. Your eyes threatened to squeeze shut, barely able to concentrate on anything besides the incessant vibrating pressing into you. Gojo huffed out dramatically, his eyes leveling towards your cunt then back towards Geto. 

“Just because I can’t touch her doesn’t mean I can’t get her off.” The sly remark from the white haired sorcerer went unnoticed by you as the toy nudged deeper into you, the force much more prominent than before. 

You moaned out as it started to fuck in and out of you, the motions absurdly fluid as it pinned your sweet spot, making you tremble. Your hips rolled into the sensation, your hands clutching against the silk of the bed sheets quickly. When you vaguely registered where Geto’s hands rested – one in your hair and another rubbing your clit – you realized that it wasn’t him thrusting the vibrator in you.

You glanced down quickly and through blurred vision, you recognized the invisible energy dragging so heavenly along your walls– Gojo was using his technique.

The vibrator moved to the force pulled within the constraints of his limitless technique, infinity constriding your every nerve and you writhed against Geto, completely forgetting about the curse that crawled against your arm. Your eyes met Gojo; his hand flush with cursed energy glowing a bright blue along with the crystals he called eyes, the damned things nearly taking your breath away. It felt like you were on display for him, taking in every whimper and moan coaxed out of you by his precious power.

He seemed so into it now, his cock straining in his boxers– he found a loophole of course – and he was sure he was going to win the bet. Gojo felt his cock leak as your pretty pussy clenched around the toy, his hand wavering slightly at the thought of it being his– ‘cause God, you’d squeeze him so fucking hard sometimes when he fucked you that he saw stars. Your pussy slicked the little toy with a mass of your arousal, glistening the ribbed toy beautifully and he had to stop himself from drooling. 

When he wins the bet, he’s going to suck the life out of you– your clit and your soul.

The fucking bet sucked his soul right out of him though; all he wanted right now was you on his lap, quivering against him as he played with you. His dick would settle right against the small of your back and he’d grind up into it as you rutted yourself against the little toy and then he’d press the head of his cock right against your aching cunt– maybe even next to the juddering toy, teasing you until you were crying for him and– 

“Stop toying with her.”

The vibrator was delicately pulled out of you, the pleasure ceasing and leaving you empty with pure neediness. You whined out, trying to grasp at Geto’s wrist but his black portal had materialized next to it and another one of his curses grabbed you and kept you still. You grimaced in disgust, leaning forward from Geto before you were forcefully pushed back by strong, uncontrolled energy. 

Gojo was wildly annoyed; you could tell. In fact, you weren’t sure if he could go one more second without touching you– or punching Geto square in the face. 

“Gojo, don’t–” You started, but it was too late now. He was livid, because how dare Geto. How dare he just fucking pull it right out of you with not even an inkling of regret etched on his face. Especially since you were so close– he sensed it, practically saw you tensing up in chase of your release and he just ruins it for you? 

“I’m not toying with her. That was fucking allowed–! Put it back in her.” Gojo growled, his eyebrows furrowing in anger. Animosity dripped from his presence, his body leaning close towards yours before stopping in harrow. 

“Do it yourself.” Geto smirked. He definitely wanted to get under Gojo’s skin; anything to get him to lose the bet. “Maybe I’ll fuck my cock in instead…”

You noticed Gojo stiffen, a menacing look painting his face for a split second before it fell away into a lazed attitude. You watched as his jaw clenched, his fists balling up against his lap as he crouched forward. He had a slight pout to his features, which you adored– he was always in a mood whenever it came to Geto’s taunting. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Oh? Satoru– you should know me by now.” 

“That’s cheating, Sugu.” You leaned up to look at him, kissing at his jawline to prevent any more arguing. His hands found your clit again, feigning more circles into the soft bud and you cooed at him with a tiny whine. His fingers dipped into your pussy slightly which in turn, made you buck your hips against them and his eyes never left Gojo’s as they tranced him into a challenge.

“Who cares? I’ll win anyway. I’m just getting a headstart into the night, pretty.” Before you had time to readjust underneath Geto’s intoxicating touch, his curses pulled you upwards; sitting you directly against Geto’s thick cock. 

And there it was– a flash of blue. Your body was instantly flush against Gojo’s chest, his strong arms embracing you like he was trying to protect you from harm. He pulled you into a desperate kiss, his fingers roaming over your waist as he lapped his tongue against yours in a soft hum. God, he missed this– he missed you, even though it was only for a few minutes. As his mouth sucked a tiny bruise down your neck, revelling in the way you keened, he vowed to never fucking make a bet with Geto Suguru ever again. 

Geto’s curses faded away back into the portal, disintegrating against the black mass as soon as Gojo touched you. “Told you, Y/N.” 

Geto’s big hands wrapped against your hips, the tip of his cock already prodding against your entrance as he aimed to mount you right then and there. No, he didn’t want to waste any time because just as quickly as Gojo lost the bet, he could turn it towards his favor; the damned idiot spinning you like a hot wheel whenever he flashed his mesmerizing eyes at you.

One wink and you could probably squirt a mile for him. 

Geto turned your chin towards him with his forefinger, his dark eyes sending chills down your spine as he bottomed out. You took to your hands and knees, unable to hold onto Gojo any longer as Geto filled you full. A slight blush spread throughout his cheeks as he let out a low deep groan, his eyes fluttering shut for a second. “Fuck… Just keep your eyes on me, darling.” 

You had your eyes on him for like five seconds before your head was tilted back towards Gojo, his cock now directly in front of you and he slicked the tip against your mouth while pumping it shallowly. “Open wide, baby.”

“Not going to scold me, Satoru?” Geto teased, pulling out his cock lightly and slamming it back into with fervor. You whimpered out, your eyes rolling towards the back of your head as Gojo tried to feed his cock into your mouth. 

“Just need her right now– shit…” He stuttered out as you sunk down on him eagerly, his cock hitting the back of your throat in one go. Oh, you must’ve broken him– his entire body jolted forwards to fuck into your mouth and his mouth dropped open in a shuddering moan. Or he was already broken beforehand, unable to keep his cock to himself as you were almost fucked without his permission. 

Geto was a dirty cheater, but a brilliant fucker; his hips snapped into you at the perfect angle and you whined happily around Gojo’s cock as he rammed into your sweet spot. You drooled on Gojo’s cock, unable to do anything but take it– take both of them in one sitting and try not to die from the pressure building in your tummy. Geto fucked into you so deep, his stamina barely faltering as he pounded you from the back with breathless pants seeping from his mouth. 

You wished you could turn back to look at him– or better yet, his hand tangled into your hair and pulled you towards him but he wouldn’t go that far to piss Gojo off. You could only imagine the sight of him, his long hair snaking down his back and sticking to the frame of his face while Gojo glared at him. Geto wouldn’t care though– because he won fair and square in his eyes, his cock pressing against your cervix with a tremble to his thighs now due to the way you clenched around him. 

And you knew Gojo wanted so badly to feel you squeeze around him– so you hollowed out your cheeks and smoothed one of your hands over his thigh as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. He took the golden opportunity to face fuck you, his hips rolling into you with a broken groan. 

“Ah, k-keep going. That’s it… you love being stuffed by the both of us, huh? Can’t even fucking think straight– fuck, do that again…” Gojo babbled above you as his hips thrusted into your wet mouth, your tongue sliding up the underside of his twitching cock. 

You felt your release practically racing towards you as Geto fucked into you relentlessly now, the crown of his cock catch on your hole each and every time he plunged in. You breathed through your nose as your walls fluttered around him through your orgasm, feeling the warmth of Geto’s following not long after. 

His groans were quickly overtaken by Gojo’s desperate little whines, both of their hips slapping against you being one of the few sounds in the room. Gojo could only be out of the limelight for so long before his moans became downright filthy whimpers when he came down your throat, burying his cock deeply into your mouth. “Swallow it all, princess. Don’t waste a goddamn drop…” 

And you did– you swallowed every goddamn drop that dribbled from his cock while Geto fucked his cum into you greedily. As you pulled off of Gojo’s cock, you wobbled against the bed slightly before the two of them held you up and placed you carefully against the pillows. Looking at the two of them, there seemed to be no sign of ill intent racking their brains. Maybe they wouldn’t fight and you could sleep peacefully, snuggled against them in a warm, cozy blanket.

“Next time you make a bet, fucking keep it Suguru.” Gojo breathed out, his voice void of malice but there still was a bite to it. Wedged between the two of them, you felt Geto shake with laughter– the mocking kind that dug at Gojo’s psyche.

Or maybe not.

“What, you really think you’ll win next time?”

“I know I will.”

a/n: y'all want them to make another bet or no?

[writing-for-marvel]

Day 4: Overstimulation

Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon

Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader

Summary: Bucky’s determined to give you an orgasm in every room of your private villa.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, spanking

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

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The villa Bucky chose for the first week of your honeymoon is absolutely stunning - views directly out onto a white sandy beach from a large infinity pool, a built-in spa and sauna you are already eager to try out as well as being completely fitted out with the most lush furnishings and extravagant amenities.

But he doesn’t give you time to enjoy any of it, for as soon as you walk over the threshold, Bucky bends you over the substantial kitchen island, pushes your skirt up around your waist, pulls your panties down to your ankles and licks a stripe up your slit, paying no mind to the two bodyguards following you into the residence.

He starts out eagerly, pushing his warm, wet tongue into your pussy as his thick fingers spread your folds bare for him. His name falls from your lips in a low moan, but this only spurs him on, wanting to hear his wife repeat his name like the God the majority of New York believe him to be.

As he relentlessly devours you, your orgasm builds, the band in your lower stomach tightening with every flick of his tongue, lapping up the arousal flooding from your core that Bucky himself is responsible for.

“Fuck Buck, right there, don’t stop.” If it weren’t your beloved husband spreading your ass cheeks wide and nose deep in your pussy, you might be embarrassed by how quickly you are hurtling towards your release.

But James Barnes knows every inch of your body with exact precision, he has memorised the map of how to navigate to the height of your pleasure and has the uncanny ability to bring you right to the edge with a single touch. Something he prides himself on.

Your first orgasm comes when his thumb toys with your puckered asshole and his plump lips suckle on your clit. The smooth marble underneath your fingertips provides no grip, no traction to pull yourself away from Bucky’s onslaught.

Before you can even take a breath to stabilise yourself after your high, Bucky picks you up bridal style and walks your limp body over to the couch of the connecting lounge room.

He places you on all fours on the leather couch, and after ridding himself of all nuisance clothing, he drives himself inside your sopping entrance without any notice. Your velvety walls burn deliciously as you stretch to accommodate him - a stretch that you will crave for the rest of your life.

“Good girl, take it all.” Bucky commands. He starts out at a brutal pace, but somehow with each thrust he seems to both accelerate the movement of his hips and plunge deeper within you, filling you completely and kissing your cervix.

Wet, salacious sounds fill the grand room, along with your strained voice chanting Bucky’s name like a prayer. You bury your face in the top of the backrest of the couch in an attempt to muffle the obscene moans falling from your lips as Bucky grips your hips tighter and continues fucking into you relentlessly.

You feel him press an affectionate kiss between your shoulder blades before his domineering hand grasps your neck and pulls you back into him, the warm length of his body pressing against yours.

“Be a good wife and take everything your husband gives you. Every. Fucking. Inch.” His words are growled into your ear and a shiver runs down your spine. He punctuates each word with a hard slap to your ass.

He reaches around your body, his hand finding your clit with the ease of magnets attracting one another. As he begins teasing your sensitive bundle of nerves, you feel like you’re floating, unable to come down from the pure bliss Bucky has fucked you into, every collision of his hips against yours bringing you closer to your inevitable end.

“This fat cock feels good, doesn’t it?” Luckily it’s a rhetorical question because in your current euphoric state you can’t find any words to express how good your husband is making you feel. “Be a good little slut and cum on it for me.”

You don’t even realise tears are leaking from your eyes when your next orgasm slams into you like a train, thighs quivering, inadvertently trying to crawl to the other side of the couch to find some relief from the spasming pleasure, even though you know Bucky will never let you go until you’ve ridden out your entire high.

The next room you find yourself in is the adjacent dining room. The table had been set for your arrival, but Bucky soon sweeps the settings at one end crashing onto the floor as he lays your back gently on the mahogany tabletop.

“God damn, I’ll never get enough of this tight pussy.” Bucky exclaims as he pushes inside you again. You gasp at the sudden intrusion of his thick length, every part of your body twitching with heightened awareness.

His thrusts are more languid this time, longer and deeper, but you’re so sensitive from your previous orgasms that you’re already right on the edge with just a few pumps.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum, my love.” His voice is softer in tone, words soothing as he shifts the position of your legs so they instead rest on his shoulders. His eye contact is just as intense as the momentum of his hips slapping yours. “Need you to do it again for me. Want you looking in my eyes when I make you cum.” Bucky urges, his hand migrating down to where your bodies meet, his thumb rubbing tight circles over your puffy and oversensitive clit.

The pressure building within your core borders on agonising, you’re sure that this impending orgasm will be larger than any else of your married life thus far, and with how he’s hitting every spot inside you that engages an electric current surging up your spine, you know you’re so close.

It only takes another flick of your clit and you’re there, falling over a cliff and plunging into a deep ocean of pure pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m cumming again!” You announce as your back arches off the dinning table, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your entire body convulses by the sheer magnitude of your orgasm.

“That’s it baby, keep ‘em coming.” Bucky doesn’t let up, smirking as you writhe in front of him. “Soak me sweetheart.”

And you do just that.

Before you even realise what’s happening, your release gushes out of you, soaking Bucky’s stomach and thighs, the force of your squirt pushing him out of you. He rubs his bulbous tip frantically over your clit, prolonging your high and milking every last drop of arousal from you.

You sense him pick you up again, a soft kiss placed to your hairline as you move throughout the house again.

Much later in the night, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, the line between each orgasm blurring, waves of pleasure melding into one huge tsunami. You can’t even remember which room you last came in, mind in a complete daze, all you can perceive is Bucky’s looming presence over you and the way he’s playing your body like a fiddle, each stroke, strum and nip brings you closer to your next high like a symphony orchestra playing to a crescendo.

“Too much.” You attempt to mumble, unsure if you’re even articulating the words correctly, feebly pushing at his veiny arm to give yourself a semblance of a break from the overwhelming sensations your husband is subjecting you to.

It feels like your entire body is trembling on the king sized bed you get to call yours for the next week as you attempt to steady your breathing, trying to focus on anything other than the violently intense sensations Bucky is responsible for between your legs.

“Just one more, darling. I know you can give me another. You’re doing so well for me.” He coos before his lips latch onto your breast, the tip of his tongue lightly circling your areola before suckling your hardened nipple.

“I can’t.” A sob bubbles up your throat, understanding if you really wanted to stop you could use your prearranged safeword. It isn’t that you want to stop - it just feels too good, the pleasure so earth shatteringly intense that it borders on pain.

“Yes you can. I know you can, baby.” He praises, planting a sweet kiss to your sweaty forehead as you mewl, Bucky’s nimble fingers continuing to move in and out of you at a damaging pace. “Do it for me.”

All it takes is those four short words. Do it for him, do it for your husband, and you’re coming undone again for him. You whine his name as the most immense pleasure fires from the base of your spine, spreading like exploding fireworks through the rest of your body.

You don’t feel Bucky pull his fingers from you, nor do you discern his weight drop beside you in bed. It takes a couple minutes before your mind becomes a clear stream of thoughts and you can decidedly feel your extremities again.

“My perfect wife.” Bucky mumbles into your neck as you work to catch your breath and bring yourself assuredly back to earth after your visit to the heavens.

You turn your head to meet his gaze, and if you weren’t already breathless from the numerous orgasms he’s pulled from your body, the pure love and affection swirling in his stunning blue eyes you’ve fallen in love with would punch all the air from your lungs.

Warmth blooms in your chest at the soft, devoted smile painted on his features. He places a sweet kiss to your nose and then to your sweaty hairline.

“You still with me, darling?”

“Just barely.” You chuckle, finding enough energy to lift your arm up and draw along his sharp jaw with your index finger. Bucky takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckles and adjusting your extravagant wedding ring so that the scintillating diamond sits perfectly centred on your finger, before pulling your body into him so there is no space remaining between you.

“How about we run you a warm bath?” Bucky offers in a low tone, lifting your chin with a single bent finger so he can slot his supple lips against your own in a tender kiss. “We didn’t quite make it to the ensuite, so if we’re to complete the set, you still owe me one more orgasm.”

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[calebwittebane]

alright can i just say something.

can I just voice my opinion can I be heard. this post Bovvers Me. now i know this is a joke post. but in reality, in practice, as it has been released into the world, its a half-joke-post. it gained so much traction because people really do think like this and not for entirely self-deprecating ways--though that would be bad too. listen, when it comes to LESBIAN GAY BISEXUAL TRANSGENDER sex, being submissive is more readily accepted in the culture that is afraid of sexuality, because to a certain degree it appears to remove involvement and intent (which of course in reality it really doesnt, and the idea that it does has been used by predators to obscure abusive dynamics, but i digress). being dominant, being horny without guilt, initiating and "leading" the scene, it involves a level of earnesty that many people are scared of. it is Cringe to them even tough they crave it, but what they want is an oscar worthy performance that hits all the unspoken levels of subtleties and post-post-irony, done by someone without feelings or boundaries or different levels of comfort, who is just here to act out someone elses fantasy and leave. it is a dreary picture of gaysexhavers SO afraid of being earnest, so intent on needlessly judging and policing others all because they do it to themselves first and foremost. a pursuit of joy and understanding gets trampled over by the need to appease The Shame and The Voyeur and The Peer Judgment and to conform to norms even in privacy. the notion that its shameful to be horny, that wanting things is predatory, that youre making a mistake and committing a sin to even be doing this in the first place. the need to have someone to project anxieties and shame onto, the need to look at someones "right" to have a sexuality, unspoken social currency, self-policing. moreover, when a person is designated inherently less deserving of normal things like safely expressing desire, kept perpetually afraid of unknowingly becoming a predator due to some intrinsic quality of theirs, their boundaries are more easily trampled over and their safety is not as readily taken into consideration. not to mention that such pathologizing of agency and expression mirrors the same old dehumanizing patterns found in wider society, as it ends up harming those most marginalized within lgbt spaces--POC, especially Black people, trans women, very gnc people, disabled people, and so on.

TL;DR - people will think and talk like this and then be like "where are all the doms..." this and "no one wants to top..." that

[enlitment]

i am curious about robespierre and camille and “doomed by the narrative”, if you are free i would love to learn some more about them since i only have basic frev knowledge!

- @iron--and--blood

Thank you so much for the ask! ✨

The short version is that they started off as school friends and got separated for a couple of years after finishing their studies. Then the revolution started in 1789 and brought them together again by uniting them in their shared goal, only to completely tear them apart in 1794. And by ‘completely tear them apart’, I mean that Robespierre was one of the people who signed the decree for Camille’s arrest which led to his execution in 1794. Talk about star-crossed…

The answer would not have been possible without this great article by @anothehumaninthisworld btw! Definitely go read it if you haven’t already and are craving more information.

Both Camille Desmoulins and Maximilien Robespierre studied at Lous-le-Grand, the former Jesuit school, in Paris. Camille was 2 years younger than Maximilien, but they definitely knew each other, and there is a strong suggestion that they were friends back then. Later, Robespierre calls Camille his ‘study companion’, ‘college comrade’ and (and this will be important later, so just put a pin in that) ‘a talented young man without mature judgement’. Their favourite topic to discuss with each other was apparently the Roman Republic - because of course it was. I also like to imagine they bonded over their enthusiasm for classical authors!

Although two years is not that much of an age difference, a lot of people (including Przybyszewska, who takes it to the max) picked up on the fact that their dynamic was kind of like this:

picture by @did-slid-skid (hope it’s okay to share it, if not then I’ll take it down. Give it a like here!)

…and it sort of continued to be like that until the bitter end, but let’s not get ahead too much.

Once the revolution kicked off and Camille started publishing his first newspaper, he seems to have tried to capitalise on the fact that he knew Robespierre,whose political career at that time was already gaining significant traction (in a bit of ‘I’m so proud of my famous talented friend! Just look at Robespierre! And have I mentioned he is *my* friend?!’ kind of way). At this point, Camille might have had an incentive to exaggerate their closeness a bit to help his own journalistic career.

But I think it’s fair to say their relationship became closer once again sometime during 1790 since Robespierre was not only a witness at Camille’s wedding to Lucile, but he also became a godfather to Camille’s and Lucile’s son Horace, according to some sources. And if not a godfather, then definitely at least an occasional babysitter.

Also not super relevant from a historical perspective but the wedding scene in La Revolution Francaise is very cute, despite the film's many issues:

Then, around late 1793 and the first half of 1794, things got really messy. I mean, they were always really complex of course, it was the revolution and fractions kept forming and falling in quite a rapid succession. I mean messy specifically in regards to Camille. To put something really complicated as simply as possible, Camille started to be associated with the Indudgents/Dantonists - a name coined for the political fraction which included figures like Georges Danton and Fabre d'Églantine, who was involved in a massive corruption scandal.

Around that time, Camille also started publishing a newspaper – La Vieux Cordellier – which criticised the actions of the Committees and as such, came to be seen as something that was actively undermining the authority and the efforts of the revolutionary government.

There was quite a heated public exchange between Camille and Robespierre in January 1794 at the Jacobin Club. It also marks one of the greatest instances of what I like to call ‘using Rousseau as a weapon”.

Basically, Robespierre ordered Camille to destroy the copies of his journal, to which Camille replied by quoting Rousseau and saying "to burn is not to answer." It's important to know that Rousseau was *the* hero of Robespierre - a fact of which Camille was fully aware - so this was meant to cut deep. It must have stung!

Robespierre then replied “Learn, Camille, that if you were not Camille, one could not have so much indulgence for you”. This to me really illustrates the nature of their relationship at this point in time.

I am not sure how much of this is actually historically accurate and how much is my view based on the interpretations of their relationship in the media, but the sense I get is that Robespierre was quite protective of Camille until he felt like he had no choice but to move against him.

Despite the small age difference, there seemed to have been kind of an older, wiser person in a protective role/younger man led astray (or, if you want to go the Przybyszewka's route, acting like a brat) dynamic. Robespierre is quoted referring to Camille as a ‘spoilt child’. I mean, Camille might have been one of the first people to be called enfant terrible (I swear I saw it somewhere and did not hallucinate it, right?), despite being a man in his 30s.

Camille's whole vibe is somehow 30+ going on 14. Like that's pretty much a historical canon.

But then, in one way or another, the situation reached a point where for Robespierre, the importance of preserving the revolutionary cause outweighed the importance of friendship with Camille - his old college comrade. (DOOMED BY THE NARRATIVE!)

In March 1794, Robespierre, as a member of the Committee of Public Safety, was among the people who signed Camille’s arrest warrant and thus, with a stroke of a pen, sealed his fate.

blood and ink parallel etc etc you get it ~

According to Robespierre’s sister, Charlotte, Maximilien tried to visit his friend in prison. I'm including a longer version of the quote because it is fascinating! Przybyszewska includes this supposed event in her play, The Danton case. It is also something which I may or may not have capitalised on in my own writing. Ahem.

"all I know is that my brother had much love for Camille Desmoulins, with whom he had studied, and that when he learned of his arrest and his incarceration in the Luxembourg he went to that prison in the intention of imploring Camille to return to the true revolutionary principles he had abandoned to ally himself with the aristocrats. Camille did not want to see him; and my brother, who would probably have defended and perhaps saved him, abandoned him to the terrible justice of the Revolutionary Tribunal."

An important question though is whether we can trust Charlotte as a source here… (most likely no?) If it were true though, it just screams doomed by the narrative (and own hubris?) to me.

Lucile Desmoulins, Camille’s wife, meanwhile tried to plea for Camille’s release by writing to Robespierre and trying to remind him of his and Camille’s friendship:

Have you forgotten these ties which Camille can never remember without tenderness? You who prayed for out union, who took our hands into yours, you who have smiled at my son and whom his infantile hands have caressed so many times (…) Even if he (…) hadn’t been as attached to the republic, I figure his attachment to you would have functioned as a substitute for patriotism, and you think that for this we deserve death?

(I’m not crying you’re crying)

Lucile’s letter, however, did not help to change Robespierre’s mind and overturn the decision. On 16 Germinal Year II (5th of April 1794), Camille Desmoulins was executed, along with other Dantonists.

Just one more line that always makes me sad, to really rub it in as a special treat – from Camille’s letter to his wife from prison:

“I have dreamed of a Republic such as all the world would have adored. I could never have believed that men could be so ferocious and so unjust.”

Or, as @anotherhumaninthisworld aptly puts it in the tags, Camille and Maximilien’s relationship essentially boils down to this:

(Really funny, but ouch.)

Their relationship also features prominently in the works by S. Przybyszewska, an early 20th century Polish playwright who very much picks up on the potentially queer vibes of Camile's and Maximilien's dynamic and just runs with it. She's much loved by the French Revolution Tumblr fandom for writing what is essentially a beautiful extremely angsty historical RPF in the 1920s.

[kalivodas]

Craving sum Fluff and comfort from John price 🙏🏻🙏🏻‼️‼️ how gentle and Wholesome he is whenever he's not deployed 😭😭

SNAKE IN MY BOOTS — john price

oh captain my captain we all chant in unison!! cod requests make my brain go brrrrr

warnings: she’s tending to his wounds this is so wattpad. descriptions of injury. ps i think the twisted part of me can’t really write fluff. so checks notes and shoves papers at u take this

IT WAS EVIL, had it not made your heartbeat run wild under your chest. it knocked on your ribs like an outstretched palm to a tall oak door.

john price was staring at you, gaze intent and heavy as his eyes drew. a familiar smile hung tight on his lips.

“i’ve missed ya, princess.” he purred. but his words and his eyes weren’t following what his hands were doing. calloused palms ran gingerly down his sides, cargos stained and caked in crimson that had dried into something brown, unrecognizable amongst the red dirt.

your gaze was menacing.

he was hurt, yet finally standing here infront of you for the first time in four, long, treacherous months. every spark in your brain wanted to jump on him. hold him to your chest and never let him walk out of that door again, world be damned.

“don’t distract me, john price,” is what come out of your mouth as you jumped to the soles of your feet. your hands fell in some sort of synchronous motion, arm looped in john’s thick one as you drug him off to the bathroom.

you let the toilet seat lid down and gesture your head there once. sit.

he huffed. “it’s not bad, just a graze wound.”

your head cocked to the side, eyebrows drawn high and unyielding. “i’ll show you a real graze wound if you don’t sit your ass down.”

his eyes roll, but his knees have already buckled. he sits, and that tight smile is splitting his face. his little spitfire.

he raises his arms high, lets you peel that sweaty dri-fit shirt off of him. you toss it in the sink, already running through the stain treatments you’re gonna attempt to scrub the sin out of it with.

being a military spouse came hand in hand with blood and grime. if it wasn’t caked on his face, or he hadn’t tracked it in, his clothes were adorned with it.

you stare at his graze wound. he meant knife wound in his lower belly, untreated and oozing crimson. you want to kiss his face, thank him for coming home to you in one piece as his beard tickles your cheeks.

a deeper part of you, the one that’s got two rows of pearls gingery grinding against one another, wants to smack him upside the fat of his skull. you throw a quarter in the wrongful conviction jar and hit him anyways.

“why wouldn’t you stop by medic, honey? i need you safe, not bleeding out on your way home.”

his palms find the fat of your hips, soothing. “i know, princess. i just figure only my wife could patch me up like i needed.”

guilt swells in the soft underbelly of you. conniving son of a bitch. john price had always been a man of solemn words, but he seemed to save the best ones for you.

silence blankets the two of you after that. you clean his wound, let the vice of his white knuckles clutch you unforgivingly when you flush it with alcohol. wrap it up nicely, pat his abdomen and place a cool, open-mouthed kiss there on his gauze.

he stares down at you, some filthy idea gaining traction on the backside of his mind when he sees your mouth so close to him.

couldn’t help it, he’d say. pretty wife on her knees, so forgiving and so damn sweet to him that he thought his heart might rot of out of his chest.

later that night, after you’d made him shower while you threw something together on the stove to satiate your husband’s vast appetite, you feel thick forearms wrap around your torso. constricting, yet gentle. like a snake who’d been taught to take his war-riddled boots off at the door.

his mouth finds it’s heaven on the right side of your neck, and he plants a few wet kisses there. the burn of his beard tickles, makes your head jerk and a snort fall from your mouth.

“i missed you,” he says. “i miss you horribly when i’m away.”

you want to reply, to snake your own arms tight around him and vow to let 141 go without its captain. you don’t get the chance.

“i can’t breathe when i’m not without you.” his hands find the supple of your ass, squeezes there and grins when you yelp. he urges your legs to wrap around his waist, and he sets you up on the counter between him.

his eyes are blown, the deep brown like whiskey that ignited heat in your cheeks. he kisses the scarlet there.

[tizeline]

Random question, but do you post your comics for yourself? Like do you not care so much about how much traction you get?

God I WISH I didn't care about such things, you should create art for sake of creating art, at least when you're a hobbyist you shouldn't have to worry about clout and such. Alas, I crave validation! It's really a double edged sword, my art tend to get quite a bit of positive attention which is absolutely wonderful and means the world to me, I will just be reading comments people leave on my posts and grinning like an idiot😭💕 But of course, that means that whenever I post something that doesn't get quite as many notes as usual it effects me way more than it should and I feel like a failure lmao 🙃

I am very aware that this is not a healthy mindset to have and I do my best not to let it get the best of me. And just to clarify, the main reason I create art is because I just enjoy it on it's own, that's always going to be my main motivation, I do make art without the intentions of posting it here. But I'd be lying if I claimed that internet clout didn't play any role at all when it comes to exactly what type of art I end up making.

[ioniansunsets]

I love all your Heartsteel hcs they are making me melt <3

Can I request a scenario of Aphelios going to non musician!readers house after a long day and then just spoil them with cuddles and hugs until they go to sleep? Hes my fave and I’m just so normal about him and the rest of Heartsteel thank you <<3

✖ Heartsteel!Aphelios Chilling with Reader ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.5k

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: SORRY FOR TAKING A WHILE!!!! Wrote this with Worlds in mind! Also imagining their little collab with Knotted + The Rocklove apparel drop❤️ Our boys have been busy.

I...also got really carried away, I just like soft warm domestic established relationships..........

Also doing this with the headcanon that Aphelios can still very softly whisper (like how he talks to Alune). He can sign, he can type fast with just one hand but! His favorite thing is to let you, his precious partner, hear him when it really matters.

----

It was a long month for Aphelios. He wasn't, miserable, to speak but he was slowly reaching his (already low) mental limit. The stress of performing in front of millions truly catching up to him.

Heartsteel was finally going to perform on stage so it has been practice after practice. Photoshoots, interviews, Instagram lives, meetups for collabs at stores, showcases for new merch, feedback for social media content, approving this and that. It has been non stop work and Aphelios was far beyond burnt out.

He was exhausted and he hasn't seen you in days. As such, when Alune finally squeezed some time out of everyone's schedule to give them a day off (after a grueling final full dressed practice run right before the actual performance day) the first thing he did was grab a ride to your place. It was a quick goodbye wave to the other members, thanking the staff with a curt bow before he ran to grab his stuff, change and fucking book it. Dropping you a message on Discord to let you know he was finally done and coming over as he calls for a ride.

It was late already too, the sun had set and all Aphelios could really do what think about you. Actually, all he could think about when he wasn't working on band stuff was you.

His hands and legs jittery, itching to finally see you, feel you, hear you, hold you. Oh gods, to have you in his arms again. He sucks in a breath at the thought.

How he so craves you to salve his faltering, exhausted soul. He sighs, turning up the music in his headphones as he leans against the window of the passenger's side. Fingers tapping to the beat as he tries to calm down, a smile on his face already at the thought of seeing you again.

He wasn't used to this. Being away from you this long and being so busy as to not even be able to chat with you often. Before Heartsteel picked up traction the two of you were practically inseparable, he would spend time writing songs in your room as you worked. Or Aphelios would just invite you over to his place to chill as he made music. The simple joys of being able to work from home as an artist. But alas, fame comes with responsibilities, and as much as he loves finally making it in the scene, it was tough going through the withdrawal of not being by your side.

His heart races in anticipation as the car stops at an all too familiar road. Grabbing his things, he pays and leaves, slamming the door to the car shut.

Aphelios was practically flying up the steps to your apartment, out the cab he half walked, half ran to your door. Standing by the gate as he calls you to let you know he's here.

When you finally open the door, you're met with the most excited smile, his eyes almost close with how wide he is smiling.

Your usually calm and cool boyfriend dropping everything he was holding to throw himself into your arms the second the door opened. The softest of his whispers as he presses his cheek against yours.

" I've missed you, so much."

You could tell, the way his body sinks into yours. The way his arms grasp you tighter than he ever has. The way he lightly nuzzles you. So uncharacteristic but so understandable at the same time. You laugh a little, telling him how much you missed him too as you held him close.

" Let's stop standing by the door. Come in Phel."

His shoulders rise and fall in a silent chuckle as he picks up his things form the floor to step into your house.

It was the usual domestic slice of life happenings that he was so used to doing. The absolute heartwarming comfort of just going on autopilot. Putting his things in the same spot he always has in your room. Going to get a bath, grabbing a change of clothes from his own shelf by your bed. The way you already helped make him dinner while he was bathing because you just know he hasn't eaten all day. It was perfect, it was like how things always was. A reminder that even though so much was going on, he was still yours as much as you were his.

" I'm excited for you. But you sure you can stay the night? You'll have to wake up earlier than if you stayed with the band you know?"

[ Being by your side is the only way I'll be able to calm down before tomorrow. It's worth the hour of sleep I'll miss not being in the venue hotel.]

The two of you update each other on your lives as he ate. You telling him about the things that happened through the month, watching small videos he took behind the scenes of the shoots, making fun of the other members together as you sit by his side by the dining table. You telling him about your time with your friends, telling him how much you missed him, how happy you were to be with him again too. And oh, the way his leg would reach out to yours, his foot lightly hooking you by the ankle to feel you close as his hands were busy with eating and typing to you about his day. It was nice. It was right. It was the cute little things that you were so used to with Aphelios. Your own hand reaching back out to hold his side. Aphelios' eyes closing as he takes a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of you holding him close after day after day of the noisy meals with the band or the desperately lonely silence of eating in a changing room between sets. It was a nice change of pace to finally be here with you.

Time ticks by and soon enough it was getting really late. Aphelios insisting to help you with the dishes since you cooked, so you did him a service by just hugging him lovingly from behind, giving the back of his neck soft kisses as he smiles with his head tilted to the side so you can rest your head on his shoulder.

" Sleep?"

You ask him softly as he puts the dishes away and dries his hands. Aphelios nods, it was getting late and he had to wake up at 5am to go through even more preparations tomorrow, but that's tomorrow Aphelios' problems. He shoves the thoughts to the back of his mind as he focuses back on you and your beautiful face.

Slowly the two of you walk up to your room, just like everything else, a warm familiarity as he walks to lie down exhausted, on his designated spot on the bed, pulling over some of his plushies that he left at your place as you join him in bed. As you crawl onto the soft bed and lie down, almost instantly you were pulled in close, his arms wrapping around you tight as he sighs again with a smile, enjoying the skinship.

The two of you get comfortable, his face lightly pressed into your shoulder as he laid in your arms. One of your hands around him as the other lightly strokes his hair, comforting him from all the work he has put in to reach where he was. Aphelios just couldn't help but feel all his trouble melt away, that ache in his muscles magically leaving him. Trying his best to fight off sleep as he wants to spend every minute more with you. It was not enough, never enough. Hours, days, years, spent by your side but in the end, all he can do now is but enjoys the little seconds before his consciousness wanes.

Once again, the warm comfort of the usual that has now become but a precious rarity. As he flits in and out of consciousness, he does one final act of love. You smile as he pulls himself up closer to your ears.

" I love you. Goodnight..."

As you adjust yourself to face him, you're met with a warm smile, his dyed hair falling softly around him on you, an almost ethereal glow on his skin from the moonlight seeping in from your window as he blinks at you with half lidded eyes, barely open from exhaustion. Truly a beautiful sight, one that you can't help but to cherish.

" I love you too Phel. Rest well."

You reach out to give him a gentle goodnight kiss on his lips, and just like tonight, and all the nights you have spent, and will spend, with him, he reaches out and kisses you back. So matter of fact, so expected that it was almost comical. He loves you and you love him. And that was right. Slowly the two of you fall asleep in each others arms once again.

[lynette-m-roses]

Sweet cravings

The sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the air as you stepped into the cozy kitchen, your baby bump prominent beneath your shirt. Henry Cavill, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, stood by the counter, a plate of delectable cookies in his hand. He looked up at you, mischief dancing in his eyes.

"Y/N, I've made a discovery," he announced, his voice tinged with excitement.

Curiosity piqued, you walked over to him, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Oh, really? What have you discovered, Henry?"

Henry's grin widened as he reached for his phone, swiftly navigating to his Instagram profile. With a flourish, he unveiled a picture he had posted—an image of you, radiant and glowing, cradling your baby bump with an expression of pure joy on your face.

"There you are, my love," Henry declared, his voice filled with adoration. "The world needs to see this beauty and the little one we're eagerly awaiting."

Your heart swelled with warmth as you looked at the image. Henry's caption read, "Just a proud papa-to-be indulging in some delicious cookies while marveling at the wonder growing inside @Y/N. Life's sweetest cravings!"

Laughter spilled from your lips, a mix of surprise and delight. "Henry, you didn't have to do this!"

"But I wanted to," he replied, his eyes softening with affection. "You and our baby deserve to be celebrated, and what better way than with cookies?"

In that moment, you realized the profound love and joy Henry felt for you and your growing family. His playful gesture, shared with the world, was a testament to his excitement and unwavering support.

As the day progressed, the picture gained traction on social media, eliciting an outpouring of warm wishes and congratulations. Messages of love and well-wishes flooded in, creating a virtual community of support that embraced you during this special time.

In the midst of it all, you and Henry reveled in the simple pleasures—baking cookies together, savoring each bite, and cherishing the excitement that swirled around you. The picture became a cherished memory, encapsulating the love and anticipation that filled your hearts.

And as your due date drew nearer, you knew that the journey ahead would be filled with more joy, challenges, and precious moments. With Henry by your side, you felt confident, knowing that his playful nature and unwavering love would continue to bring light to your lives.

In the years to come, that Instagram post would serve as a reminder—a snapshot frozen in time—of the sweet cravings, laughter, and love that defined this chapter of your lives. Together, you would create a tapestry of cherished memories, with every cookie and every smile etched within your hearts forever.

[mrchiipchrome]

The '23 Bonnie & Clyde

W.C: 2,9 K

You had started to play the guitar at the age of four when your parents bought you your very first guitar. It was one of those truly horrible plastic toy guitars with basically unusable strings. Two years later they put you in your first lessons and now 18 years later you are still playing your heart out, only now in front of unimaginable crowds. You and some of your childhood friends created your band at the ripe age of 15 as you started with making covers of your favorite songs in your garage and later uploading them to YouTube.

Soon enough your videos began to pick up some traction and you began getting gigs at local bars and cafes, and eventually you even began to write your own songs. You were the songwriter/guitarist, Benjamin was your bassist and backup vocalist, Amelia was your lead singer and Alexander was your drummer. 

You’re the one who writes the lyrics as well as the actual music as you were the one who had the best visions of how the songs were supposed to sound. The rest of the band usually gave their input and you made sure to add as much of them as possible. In your fifteen year old minds you thought that calling your band The Summer Trucks was the most hilarious thing ever, now that was a household name. 

Now at 24 you were incredibly thankful for everything that has transpired in your life up to this point. All your work and creativity has earned you a massive record deal and success all over the world with your songs being played practically everywhere. And yet everything paled in comparison to her, your girlfriend who you had met in a local coffee shop in North Carolina three years ago. You had just finished a gig, though this one without your band mates as the owner had requested that you be the only one there.

You hadn’t paid attention to where you were going, having had a song idea and needed to write it down before it slipped your mind. You were cautiously walking towards the counter to order yourself whatever drink you were craving that day when you felt another body colliding with your own, warm liquid spilling down your front as you let out a quick yelp. 

You were incredibly surprised and as your now stained tee stuck to your skin you could hear a multitude of apologies fall from the other person's lips. When you looked up you were even more surprised, she was undoubtedly the most beautiful girl you had ever seen and you had let your eyes fall on celebrities who were classed as the most beautiful in the world. And yet none of those celebrities had even a fraction of the clumsy girl’s beauty. 

You were simply speechless, the hot drink spilled on you earlier completely forgotten about. She took your silence as anger which was the complete opposite of what you were feeling. You reached your hands up to her arms, a way to tell her that it was okay and that you weren’t mad. She stops her rambling as soon as she looks into your eyes and seemingly recognises who you are, you can nearly see how the cogs turn in her head as she figures out where she has seen you before. Her eyes widened and you let a smile creep onto your face, looking down you spot her athletic wear and the iconic tar heels logo on the front. 

“I’m so incredibly sorry, I don’t even know how I fell- God I’m so stupid” Before she can continue to put herself down you invite her to sit with you in one of the countless booths in the coffee shop. This led to you and the mystery girl, who later let you know that her name was Alessia, engaging in a conversation lasting hours. 

By the end of the meeting it was dark outside and both of you had gotten countless texts from your teammates or bandmates respectively. But you felt like you had known Alessia for years and as you picked up your guitar from the guitar stand you asked her to put her number in your phone, even going as far as letting her know the code to your phone. 

As you make your way back to the hotel where you and your bandmates had been staying all you could think about was Alessia and how her eyes were some of the most gorgeous things you had ever seen. When you had arrived at the hotel your bandmates could see the dazed look in your eyes and instead of trying to tease you about being out for so long, they left you alone knowing that times like these were when you would write masterpieces. 

That night all you did was sit and write, you wrote everything that you had felt during your conversation and everything after. Then the process of rewriting your thoughts into songs began and by the end of the night your band had gained five new songs. Arriving down for breakfast that morning you were sluggish in your movements, dark circles surrounding your eyes and an accomplished smile on your tired face. 

Those five songs plus an additional four amassed into an album to which you gave the name ‘Coffee Shop Love’, the band's third studio album. Made up of love filled songs and hopeful messages, it became one of the most listened to albums of 2020 with many songs topping the charts in countless different countries. You and Alessia continued to text each other and after two months of flirting and sweet goodmorning messages you had finally gotten together.

15 year old you never would have thought that this would be your life, touring with the band created in your garage and an amazing footballer as your girlfriend. Sure, it had been difficult few years with Alessia training and having games and you touring with the band and writing hit after hit. 

You did take a break from touring when you attended the Euros final at Wembley, having been invited by Alessia. The pure joy expressed on Alessia’s face when that final whistle blew had your own eyes tearing up as you cheered and sang ‘Sweet Caroline’ with the rest of the crowd. 

Lately you had become a hot topic between Alessia’s teammates as well as the media, having been spotted going to their games wearing an England jersey with the name on the back unknown. It had recently been revealed that the band was in the studio, working on new music and you were known for going to random and unrelated places for inspiration. Well, it had started that way but after meeting Alessia you had started to go to places that reminded you of her. Coffee shops, football pitches and different locations in Manchester were where you would be found most times.

Sometimes you could be found wandering the cold, narrow streets of Manchester before sitting down on a random bench under a tree with only your notebook and a pen to keep you company. When you would come home you would sit down and start to compose a tune which matches perfectly with the words that are jotted down in your notebook.

Returning to the matter at hand, Alessia’s teammates had been arguing nonstop for the past few weeks and it was driving her nuts. Most nights she’s heard complaining over facetime about how miserable it is to hear her teammates argue about who’s name was on the back of your jersey when it clearly was hers. And everytime she complained you just laughed and told her that it was your secret and every time she would give you one of her signature smiles, the one that could instantly light up your slightly brooding demeanor.

You and Alessia had never really had the conversation of going public, I mean you never really had to considering no one suspected anything despite going on numerous dates together and posting small hints about who you were hanging out with. There were a few muttered suspicions from people of both fandoms but nothing really took off, so ultimately it fell on our hands to reveal your relationship.

Now going about this was something new to the both of you, never having to reveal a relationship before and you had sat and discussed late into the evening on how to do it. There were many options, going to one of her games and kissing her at the end, dropping hints in your music, soft launching it or hard launching it. Eventually you both settled on making the announcement via instagram, with matching photos from the past halloween where you had dressed in matching costumes.

—————————

“Lessi! Where are you?” The vibrations of your voice carry throughout the apartment as you enter. This is normal, you asking where she is as soon as you enter wanting to locate her as soon as possible. Today a sense of urgency is noticeable as your voice sounds hurried, throwing out the words without a care in the world. 

“In here!” Her downright addictive voice reaches your ears, seemingly coming from the direction of the kitchen. Unconsciously, your feet carry you in the direction of her voice in an effort to see and embrace her. Arriving at the kitchen the sight that meets your eyes is so domestic that you feel like you’re about to cry. Standing there over the stove is Alessia cooking some Italian dish you’ve forgotten the name of. 

The heavenly smell wafts into your nose and you let out a small groan, waltzing over to her as she stirs whatever is in the pan and you wrap your rather muscular arms around her waist. You have started to join in on some extra workouts she performs at home recently and you’ve started to see the result, arms more defined as well as your leg muscles something you know Alessia enjoyed seeing. It isn’t that you didn’t workout before, it’s just that you didn’t do it as frequently as you do currently.

It warms your heart whenever Alessia cooks for you, to think that she takes time out of her day to cook you a home cooked meal just amazes you. She cooks for you even though she’s tired and sore from training, it just makes your heart burst with love.

“Do you need help with anything?” Shaking her head, she turns towards you while you continue to clutch her waist. When she finally faces you she moves her hands up and places them delicately against your reddened cheeks, leaning in to connect your lips for what feels like the first time today. When she pulls away she keeps her hands on your face, fingers gently running over your lips as a large smile takes over her soft features when your blush darkens. 

Turning around in your arms, she takes back her earlier statement as she nods her head towards the living room where all your guitar equipment is. 

“Some live music would be nice” Barking out a loud laugh at her statement you remove your arms from their place around her waist and start your short trek through the small Manchester apartment. It is a one bedroom apartment with a large living room and a nice bedroom.

There was a doorway that led from the kitchen into the living room and then when you reach the living room there was another doorway that led to a hallway straight into the bedroom you shared. The bathroom is just to the right side of the entrance, while the coat and shoe rack are to the left. 

Picking up your favorite acoustic guitar, your very first one in fact, you start to walk back towards the kitchen all while picking up your capo and a plectrum. When you arrive back in the kitchen you see Alessia standing there, a glass of red wine in her hands as she continues to cook. Walking over to her you pluck the glass out of her hands, taking a quick sip before handing it back to her but not before getting fixed with an offended look.

Sitting down on the marble countertop you are in your natural habitat, with a guitar sitting in your lap. Your fingers are on the fretboard as you start to tune it, first playing the bass E while holding your finger on the fifth fret and the A string together to see if they sound the same. You tweak the E string a little bit before repeating the process and moving your finger down to the fifth fret on the A string and playing it together with the D string. It repeats until you reach the B string where you move your finger to the fourth fret as the high E has a lighter sound than what you could match with the B. 

“Alright, I’m all tuned and ready. You have any requests for the performer, madam?”

“Yeah, could you do that Metallica song we listened to last saturday? I can’t remember what it’s called, Nothing happens? Nothing else…something.” Snapping her fingers as she tries to remember the song's name has a quick smile creeping up on your face.

“Nothing Else Matters, you mean? Sure I can play that for you!” You see the relieved smile on her face as you understand her ramblings. Playing the opening notes of the calm song you soon have to run your fingers all over the fret all while alternating between plucking and strumming with your right hand. You play with an unbelievable amount of class, alike to how Alessia behaves on the pitch in your element.

The song comes to a close just as Alessia finishes up the food and you put your guitar back in its place in the living room before joining Alessia again. You help her with the cutlery and the plates as she serves you both, you go over to the cupboard again as you search for a glass. Taking a hold of your chosen glass you move towards the refrigerator where you fetch the sparkling water. Sitting down across the table from Alessia, you take a bite of the food and nearly moan as the incredible flavour hits your tastebuds.

The sound of Alessia’s soft laughter wakes you from the trance the food has put you in and you look up and straight into her unbelievably blue eyes.Suddenly you can’t help but blurting out something you had thought about long and hard. Watching as Alessia takes a bite of her pasta,your mouth spills out the words.

“I want to reveal our relationship” All of a sudden choking sounds are heard and the only thing you can think about is when she told you about how she had choked on her pasta in Jordan. Going to her side to clap her back, you press a kiss to the side of her face when she seems to not be choking anymore.

“What?” 

“I wanna tell people about us. I wanna be able to hold your hand and take you to award shows. I wanna be able to brag to people about my strong footballer girlfriend that I’m oh so proud of.”

“Yeah, yeah I can get behind that. How do you want to announce it?”

“Instagram? We can post the pictures from last halloween, you were so gorgeous drenched in fake blood.”

She gives you a weird look when you say that but you just shrugged as if saying ‘what? did you want me to lie?’. Getting through the rest of the meal without any other outbursts, you eventually settle on the couch after putting your cutlery in the dishwasher and you start to plan out how you were going to do this. Choosing your pictures and typing out matching captions based on your outfits in the pictures you press post at the exact same time, not having to wait for long until your phones start to blow up.

@ yourinstagram

Liked by leahwiliamsonn, alessiarusso99 and 2 863 657 others

yourinstagram all I need in this life of sin is me and my girlfriend @alessiarusso99

alessiarusso99 love you my Clyde❤️

↳yourinstagram love you even more my Bonnie ❤️

leahwilliamsonn you have to introduce us @alessiarusso99

ellatoone why wasn’t I told about this 😐

 ↳loveameliaclark yeah why weren’t we told about this

    ↳benmajorss yeah @ yourinstagram @alessiarusso99

       ↳alexgrant98 yeah

          ↳yourinstagram you just had to join didn’t you @alexgrant98

beyoncé ❤️

   ↳woso-fan BEYONCÉ?

ohgrays this is so nom x

y/nfan37 EXCUSE ME? Now this I didn’t have on my 2023 bingo card 

barclayswsl hottest couple alert 🚨 

thesummertrucksofficial w caption 

 ↳yourinstagram thanks Matthew

@alessiarusso99

Liked by yourinstagram, ellatoone and 186 593 others

alessiarusso99 The ‘23 Bonnie and Clyde, Blondie and Rockstar @yourinstagram

yourinstagram I only need you my dearest Bonnie ❤️

  ↳alessiarusso99 and I you my dearest Clyde ❤️

loveameliaclark still mad that you didn’t tell us first @ yourinstagram, but welcome into the family Alessia!

benmajorss so you’re the reason why we have been getting sweet love songs lately…

   ↳yourinstagram BENJAMIN ANDRE MAJORS II

      ↳tstloml not the full name💀

alexgrant98 so who’s the best man?

    ↳benmajorss me obviously 

       ↳loveameliaclark nah it’s obviously me

          ↳alexgrant98 @loveameliaclark ur not even a man

             ↳loveameliaclark I will hit you @alexgrant98

manutdwomen ❤️

russolover the matching captions, are they trying to kill us?

You repost each others post on your instagram stories before settling into the couch and spending the rest of the night together with Alessia basking in each others company, proud of the fact that you had just broken the internet.

Happy Easter/holidays everyone if you celebrate that! Hope y'all like that one. I've been playing the guitar since I was about 8, but I started to take lessons in fourth grade and I'm in eighth now. But yeah this was a fun one, What do we think about R being a manager for the next fic?

[connorboyyy]

I love the unstoppable force vs. immovable object thing so much when people associate it with characters like

Love it to death. For me, (unsurprisingly) it’s just so hankcon.

Hank’s entire life came to a skidding halt like breaks desperately trying to gain traction. He knows what it feels like to not have control of the force and more importantly what it cost him. Why would he risk that again?

Connor has never known a day where he could so much as hesitate. Whether he’s a deviant or not, he always has to be unstoppable. He has a mission to accomplish or an unlikely event he has to bring to fruition. He can’t afford to even slow down, much less stop

But maybe the immovable object wants to feel the rush of sweet movement again, and maybe the unstoppable force wants to be held still in his tracks by something sturdy for just a second

Maybe one can’t do it with the other—or maybe they could, eventually, but it would feel much slower. Hollower.

Maybe it’s the inevitable, breathless impact of one meeting the other they’re craving

Maybe they’ll find out. Maybe they won’t