#sometimes i wish i could be more like that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chaostudee · 1 day ago

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afterglow, oscar piastri

summary : y/n and oscar are childhood bestfriends and y/n tries to be supportive as she can by coming to his races and cheering him on. oscar enjoys y/n's company but sometimes he wishes that he could have you all to himself. in truth you are both just to stubborn to admit that you like each other, a little more than just friends. faceclaim : julia hatch a/n : i'm so obsessed with this acc <3

y/nusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, sabrinacarpenter, and 456,618 others.

user627 oml

username_11 the prettiest redhead

user9_782 oh girl we need the workout routine asap

sabrinacarpenter literally the most perfect ever 💋

y/nusername all you babes

username1415 to look like y/n 😫

f1fan the prettiest non-wag

user771 in my eyes she's a wag idc

y/nusername love supporting you bestie <3

》 girl u literally travel the whole world supporting him.....it's giving girlfriend

》 there is nooooo way they are just friends

》 my fav bestiessss

》 she's so supportive eeek i love her !!

》 our mclaren queen

oscarpiastri great weekend with a good haul of points !!

liked by y/nusername, landonorris, carlossainz and 4,618,929 others.

y/nusername so so proud of you !!

oscarpiastri ❤️

user728 my fav driver forever

f1fan how can u hate on this cutie

username661 great drive oscar !!

user992 i will always be a mclaren girl idc

user290 oscar pastry

oscarpiastri y/n forced me to post these pictures.

liked by y/nusername, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,729,562 others.

y/nusername okay but FORCED is such a strong word....i encouraged you

user728 omgg y/n is so gorge

f1fan okay but appreciation for oscar's photography skills because wowww

user910 love them sm acc

username_56 oh how i love summer break content

user72 oscar pls lemme steal your bsf

f1lover proof the boys and girls can just be friends

landonorris

》 IS THAT Y/N?!?!

》 LANDO WTHHH OMGGG

》 oscar is defo going to be mad

》 um what in the world

》 posting this on your public story is crazyyy

》 i don't want to hear anyone start saying that they are dating istggg

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between y/n and oscar

were you with lando today?? oscar

yeah y/n

oh i didn't know you guys were close oscar

we're just hanging out y/n

yeah right, i know lando oscar

omg stop oscar i can do what i want y/n

ik ik that y/n i'm just warning you oscar

okay well i rly don't care about what you think y/n

fine oscar

fine y/n

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

y/nusername now my life is sweet like cinnamon

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, charlesleclerc and 1,772,929 others.

user728 oh !

username_89 she's really just that girl

f1fan not seeing oscar in the likes hurts

user627 imagine your teammate and bsf dating bleh

f1lover living for this drama idc

alexandrasaintmleux obssessed with the dress you look so gorge <3

y/nusername omgg tysmm it's from meskhi

user56 lando and oscar i fear i get it

username72 body is teaaa

f1_672 appreciation for the car 🫠

landonorris amazing weekend great to be back on the podium :)

liked by y/nusername, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen and 3,618,701 others.

maxverstappen great drive mate and a well deserved win

user that's my goat 🐐

username617 ugh his smile i cant

f1lover omgg best race of the season

user55 so ready for a drive to survive episode on this madness

user728 that podium is literally my dream blunt rotation

f1fan YES U GET IT user756 like carlos, lando and oscar omll i was dying username_55 it was all good until we got no landoscar interaction user617 stopp don't remind me 😭😭

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between y/n and oscar

hey.... y/n

oh wow you're talking to me again oscar

well i figured u needed space y/n

i never wanted space y/n i was just angry oscar

oh okay y/n

so did u want something or...?? oscar

well yk halloween is coming up y/n

oh you still want to do the costume oscar

well i mean we do it every year osc y/n

yeah true, well i guess we shouldn't break tradition oscar

oh yayyy great i'll send you the details :) y/n

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

*written*

you stood adjusting your dress as excited chatter filled the room. the party was now in full swing and oscar had still not shown up. sure you had your doubts that he wouldn't but you had known oscar all your life, he wouldn't do that to you.

as if on cue the front door swings open and none other than the man himself steps inside before scanning the room. it's not long before his eyes latch onto yours and it feels as though your heart stops. you can't remember the last time you had seen him and the last time you weren't having an argument over something. oscar smiles and your heart begins to thump in your chest as you see him making his way over to you.

"hey" a familair voice beckons your attention.

you look up at him and smile when you notice that he wore the costume." nice costume" you say giggling as you tuck your hair behind your ear.

"oh yeah my best friend got it for me"

you nod smiling back at him. "so how have you been?"

you roll your eyes before drawing your attention back to him. "is this your subtle way of asking if me and lando are still together"

"i don't care about that" he blatantly lies, scrunching his nose.

"well if you must know we are taking a break right now he said he was too busy for a serious relationship".

oscar scoffs. "what an asshole".

"he's your bestfriend" you say confusingly as you believed that lando and oscar were close.

"yeah but so are you".

your heart warms when you hear that and you feel as though in that moment your friendship has been mended through unspoken words. yet you still wished that he would notice, notice how obviously and madly in love with him you are. you watched as he looked into the distance and there you sat admiring something from afar and out of reach.

y/nusername halloween ;)

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen and 11,772,929 others.

user HUH

user728 i'm so confused

f1fan u and me both girl

user61 if i was lando i would be so pissed BECAUSE WDYM THEY DID A COUPLES COSTUME TOGETHER

f1lover the real ogs know that they do a couples costume every year

user919 ya'll are hating but I LOVE

justaninchident oh how i missed them

user671 lando be tweaking rn

username717 the fits are on point

f1_55 blink twice oscar if u need help

mclaren lando and oscar youtube video up now !

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, user782 and 554,818 others.

user728 OMG THEY MADE UP

username LANDOSCAR YES YES

anon defo just pr

f1fan not lando calling oscar out for getting flustered over y/n 💀

justaninchident okay but the way oscar and lando are looking at eachother omg i acc can't

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between lando and y/n

you like him don't you lando

what makes u think that ?? y/n

are u fr y/n lando

the fact that you never stop talking about him and that everytime we are in the garage you can't keep your eyes off him lando

what do you even want me to say?! y/n

i want you to admit it lando

okay fine i like oscar y/n

for how long lando

lando pls y/n

y/n just tell me lando

i mean i've always loved him i just i don't know if he feels the same y/n

oh god you are both so so stupid lando

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

texts between y/n and oscar

how come u and lando don't hang out as much oscar

wow straight to the point y/n

well why oscar

because y/n

because why oscar

because he's not you y/n

wdym oscar

omg you are so clueless , i never liked lando silly he was just a distraction a way to trick my mind into liking someone else y/n

oh well who do u like oscar

do i actually have to say y/n

yes i want to hear you say it oscar

you y/n

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

y/nusername my boy 💞

liked by oscarpiastri, charlesleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 14,717,896 others.

user828 EEEEEEEEEKKKKK

username728 YES FINALLY

user734 STOP THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME

alexandrasaintmleux so so happy for you, you deserve this sm <3

landonorris happy for you's

user561 awww username717 and this is why i love lando

user727 the hard launch is launching

f1fan omgggg im cryinggg

username_62 they are so perfect for each other

taglist ⭑.ᐟ

@lottalove4evelyn

@sweetestgirlintown111

@mxryxmfooty

@hadidsworld

@llando4norris

@heavy-vettel

@janeh22

@love2readd

@depressedriches

@seonghwaexile

@nichmeddar

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #masterlist #f1 fluff #f1 2024 #fic rec #formula 1 #f1 blurb #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #mclaren

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merakiui · 1 day ago

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the symptoms of being human.

jade leech x (gender neutral) reader note - being human comes with its fair share of very specific symptoms. or: jade has lived in saltwater his entire life. never has it leaked out of him before. // HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO MY BIRTHDAY BESTIE @heyyy11!!!!!! 🎉 many wonderful wishes of health, happiness, and good fortune for you!!!! :D it isn't a lot, but please enjoy this little gift i prepared in celebration!!!

But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more.

A long time ago, a human penned that line in reference to merfolk and their inability to shed tears. A fact as intimate as that couldn’t have possibly been common knowledge amongst humans, or so Jade assumed every time the story was regurgitated at bedtime. He always did that: apply logic to areas where logic wasn’t needed. His teachers used to tell him, “Jade, sometimes you need to suspend your disbelief in order to immerse yourself in a fictional world.” He could try—and try he did—but he’d find himself lingering on that quote every time.

A slight amendment to that: merfolk can cry and they do suffer, but whether they suffer more is impossible to know without further study.

Jade operates under the notion that there are explanations for everything, even the wildest of lunacy. There is comfort in comprehension. He would spend hours holed up in his sleeping nook, poring over stories and texts on humans and beastfolk. He would compare and contrast them. Can a tearless cry indicate the amount of suffering per species, or is such an abstract concept even remotely quantifiable? Perhaps it is because merfolk cry silently that they suffer. Because there is no one who can hear their weeping in the deep sea. Because there is no physical proof.

It’s easier to recognize the physical signs of grief, for what happens within is shrouded in secrecy, veiled in the depths of the heart.

So when Jade comes onto land for the first time, human skin stretched over a skeleton altered with a potion, every inch awkward and aching, the sea leaks out of his pores. He feels like a pufferfish not yet expanded but on the verge of bloating, deflated and weak, salt still spilling. And he knows it’s salt because he swipes two fingers under his armpit and brings them to his mouth to taste. It’s saltwater.

He later learns, while sitting in Professor Crewel’s class and listening to him drone on about anatomy, that this is the phenomenon known as sweating. Jade sweats when he exerts himself, when his body temperature rises degrees over what’s internally comfortable and he needs to cool down, when he ingests something spicy, when he’s sick with a fever, when he’s stressed… It’s a fascinating facet of human biology he was previously unaware of.

Azul called these peculiarities “symptoms of being human,” and what intriguing symptoms they are! He hopes to experience even more as he completes his education on land, regardless of how troublesome they might be.

Having a symptom of something implies the affected is ill in some way—as if humanity itself is an illness and this human body serves as more of a hindrance than help. Jade will forever be an eel merman, and this body is just a clever cloak crafted to make his life on land habitable. Although there are moments where he thinks his original form would suit a certain task. Like swimming or any sport in the water, really. But he likes to struggle and fail, learning from every human mistake.

These symptoms are not terrible. Not to him, at least.

He meets you in the woods. You’re hunched over the ground, patting a compact lump of freshly disturbed soil. A burial, he thinks, but then he’s not certain. When you fashion a little marker out of sticks and ribbons, it occurs to him that he was right.

“Hello to you, too,” you say, turning to glance at him.

There’s something that stills in the air. A feeling catches and tugs at his heart. He can’t explain it—still can’t even to this day—but something trickles out of his eyes then. A droplet of water and then another and then more until silent streams are falling thick. He blinks until his once-blurry vision clears, only to find you’re looking at him fully now.

Jade gathers the wetness on his fingertips and licks curiously. Salt.

Horrifyingly, he’s sweating from his eyes.

He doesn’t panic. A grotesque part of him wants to know what else these eyes are capable of in this body.

You draw in breath through your lips. A gasp. “Oh! Are you all right?”

He nods because even if his brain doesn’t understand it yet his heart does.

You are the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with.

This isn’t fiction, and he doesn’t have to pretend to accept it as his temporary reality just to enjoy the story it promises. He knows. His heart—the eel-mer heart—knows. This salt is a symptom of being human, but a symptom of being a mer is that there is the strongest sixth sense for finding one’s other half.

“Are you sure?” you press, rising to your feet, digging through your bag for tissue. “You’re crying!”

He blinks back at you. I’m…crying.

He’s not sweating. He’s crying.

“Forgive me,” he says even though he knows there’s nothing to apologize for. “My eyes must not be working today.”

A sympathetic smile spreads on your face. “Did you come here with anyone?”

He shakes his head and explains rather simply that he’s come on account of club business. “I’m the only member in my club,” he elaborates unnecessarily, “and so I often come here to hike and forage. I suppose I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone on this route.”

“Club? You’re a student?” Before he has a chance to respond, you add, “No way! What school? I’m from Royal Sword.”

“Night Raven.”

“Whoa! That’s so cool. I’ve heard lots about that school. Oh, sorry, I’m totally chatting your ear off. If it’s not an issue, would you like to walk back together? Don’t take this the wrong way. I’m just worried about you.”

The affable conversation was so smooth Jade almost forgot he’s been leaking—crying—the entire time.

“Why would you be worried? I assure you there’s nothing in this forest that could harm me,” he says, holding a hand over his heart.

As if it isn’t the woods that might hurt him but, rather, the person standing in front of him. He has never felt any need to protect his heart, but now he thinks he must. If he’s to offer it to you in the future, he wants to do so when it is perfectly whole and packed full of happiness.

“Um… Well, I just don’t want you to do anything…harmful,” you say, stringing the words together awkwardly. “People care about you. They’d miss you.”

He glances past you at the burial. Just above, a nest of baby birds chirp noisily. He understands now.

“As it happens, I’m currently quite content.”

“You are?”

He tilts his head at you and smiles, teary-eyed and most likely red in the face.

“I am. Very much so. I’ve experienced another human symptom. I couldn’t be any happier.”

You exhale a quiet, semi-amused breath. “I’m glad.” Your hand is held out next. “I’m (Name). It’s nice to meet you.”

His webless, clawless hand closes around yours. “Jade Leech,” he greets.

— — —

“You look good,” Floyd compliments, watching Jade fuss over himself in the mirror. “Shrimpy’ll think so. And Mama. Pops, too.”

“So everyone,” he replies smartly, his hands shaking as he smooths the nonexistent wrinkles in his suit. They reach for the jewelry strung around his neck. He’s wearing his mother’s pearls. Tradition and memory are twined throughout each one. For every hand that holds this chain, a new pearl will be added. It has been in his family for ages. After today, he’ll add his and the necklace will be a pearl longer.

He feels like he needs to pace up and down a mountain. Like he needs to strip this seaweed-esque suit off and jump into the ocean to feel free of constriction. Clothes are always so…unique. That’s the word he chooses to use. Another symptom, he’s certain, because clothes are to humans as colors are to merfolk. Humans attract each other with fashion styles just as mers flash colors and patterns at those they intend to charm.

“Everyone,” Floyd echoes, grinning to ease the tension. “C’mon. You know everything’s gonna be fine.”

Logically, Jade is aware of that. There were rehearsals and lists and triple-checks. Everything is in order. He’s ready. You’re ready. Illogically, he thinks he’s about to shake out of his skin from either excitement or anxiety or a combination of both.

Floyd’s hand comes down upon his shoulder. He relaxes beneath the squeeze. “You got this.”

“I do,” he whispers, turning away from the mirror with a smile.

He waits for you at the altar. A feeling he knows well enough claws at the back of his eyes. It’s been steadily encroaching since this morning, or perhaps it’s always been there ever since he first met you.

When he sees you, his world comes together and everything is warm and wonderful. There are tears on his face, tracking down his cheeks in hot streaks. It’s not embarrassing even though, somewhat flustered, he mouths to his parents that he’s simply sweating from the eyes. A symptom they’ll soon experience in their temporary human bodies.

Out of every human symptom he’s experienced, he thinks this one is his favorite.

You meet him at the front, and beneath an awning of the prettiest flowers you join hands.

“How do you feel?” you murmur, your thumbs running over his palms.

He’s going to say he feels like his world is brighter and wrapped in silk—like he’s looking love right in the face.

Through his tears, he smiles and says, “Like my eyes are working properly today.”

You giggle around a rising sob. Happy tears, he notes, much like the ones sticking to his face. “Weird. Because mine don’t seem to be working today.”

“A shame. You can’t see how beautiful you are.”

“I trust you.”

“I can’t promise mine won’t sweat halfway through the ceremony, but I appreciate your faith in me.”

“It’s fine. Mine are already doing that.”

And it’s everything to him—you, this union, the tears, these messy, complex symptoms of being human. Everything.

Jade thinks he’d like to rewrite that old quote from his childhood.

But a mermaid has no tears and so that may be true in storybook blue, but it is her heart that weeps for everything she has experienced, is experiencing, and will experience; the good and the bad, the happy and the sad.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #jade x reader

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theirstookmyfamily · 2 days ago

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Heads up, longer post, just some ranting.

Tl;dr: Protect yourself and others first, then we can fix the fascists, usually they're deeply hurt people which is why they fall into right wing populism, people are products of their environment, they're not stupid, just ignorant. But still fuck them, and their existence in such a state makes me depressed.

I am sometimes a little sad *for* people who fall into fascism. I personally think that everyone is a product of their environment, I'll look at a Trump supporter and just feel like this deep melancholic pity for them, just "Oh, usually with you lot, you grew up in a small town, mostly white, everyone around you talked about 'bad groups' so you learned to hate those groups, often you'll have been abused by those around you from a young age, which teaches you to believe in a natural hierarchy, 'parent is better than child, so parent *deserves* to hit child'." It just kinda makes me sad, like, jesus dude, you got so fucked up as a child you became a neo-nazi, fucking hell man. But I also can't help but get pissed when they try to hurt other people, and rightly so. I just wish we could help them, this is usually better for a 1 on 1 person to person thing, maybe even stop them from becoming that in the first place. But for now we need to focus on preventing them from harming others, we can fix them later, but it's more important to protect ourselves and others first.

There's a lot more I want to say, but I got tired of typing on mobile, and this type of conversation is usually better had with words rather than text, it also is basically just a rephrasing of a contrapoints video I saw a few months ago and was just thinking about again. I am unoriginal, my bad, yo.

I actually can't stop thinking about how the losing party last election dressed like vikings and tried to break into the white house and the losing party this election are sharing suicide prevention hotlines

#ramblings #us politics #us election #people are products of their environment #fuck fascism #capitalism strikes again #I could explain how this is capitalism's fault #but that's a much much longer discussion

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inkedinshadows · 17 hours ago

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A Place Called Home

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: Follow Azriel as he recalls all the places where he's lived but never belonged, until he finds the one where he finally does.

Warnings: a bit of Inner Circle slander, I guess? But not really tbh. Mentions of wing clipping

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: I don't know what I think of this one tbh. It's not exactly what I had in mind, but I've made my peace with it. @azrielappreciationweek

Azriel had never belonged in his father's mansion. He never once believed he did. But he didn't belong in Illyria, either.

Though he was Illyrian, he always disapproved of their backward traditions, especially regarding females.

He had seen how his mother was treated; he knew what had happened to Cassian’s, and too many times during his training in Windhaven, he had to witness brutal clippings without being able to stop them.

How could he belong in such a place? A place where females were treated as little more than objects and breeding mares, where children were taught to fight as soon as they could walk and left to care for themselves in the mud and cold?

He had done horrible things—most of which to protect his family and court—and they still haunted him in his sleep at times. But he liked to think that he was at least better than the Illyrian brutes he had grown up among. That there were certain lines even he wouldn't cross.

Illyria was a beautiful land, with its snow-capped mountains and frozen lakes. It could be merciless and harsh, but that was nature. Its inhabitants, however, chose to be that way, and Azriel had long since lost faith in any change.

~~~~~~

He didn't belong in Rosehall, either.

He was always welcome there and visited as often as he could, but that was his mother’s house. He had bought it for her as soon as he had enough money.

It was her safe place, her haven, where she didn't have to worry about anything and where she wasn't anyone's servant. Azriel remembered the tears shining in her eyes the first time he brought her there, when the house was still empty and cold.

It had taken him a long time to convince her that she didn't need to worry about money. He worked directly for the High Lord now, and he was paid well enough for her to furnish the house however she liked.

She had still tried not to spend too much, but she had chosen each piece of furniture and decoration with attentive care. It was the first time she had a place she could call her own after centuries of living, and Azriel liked what she had done with it. The place was simple yet elegant, with cream-colored walls and wooden furniture. Colorful flowers bloomed on the windowsills, and paintings hung in the hallway and the living room. She had even made sure to have a bedroom for him, so he could stay as long as he wished.

But Azriel's favorite part of Rosehall was probably the delicious smell of food wafting through the rooms. Now that she no longer had to cook for domineering males, she had rediscovered her passion for cooking. Whether it was spices, freshly baked bread, or roasted meat, the smell never failed to make his mouth water.

Yes, Azriel enjoyed his time in Rosehall and tried to visit as often as he could, but it was still his mother’s house—not his.

~~~~~~

He belonged in the Inner Circle, he guessed. Though sometimes he felt like he didn't.

Azriel cared about Amren; after all, he had known her for centuries. But it was still Amren. How many times had it been just the two of them, spending time like normal friends? Once, maybe twice, and even then, their conversations had mostly revolved around Court matters. Sometimes he wondered if they would have ever approached each other at all if it hadn't been for Rhys bringing them together.

And then there was Mor. He had spent centuries quietly loving her, longing for something he could never have. He had long since stopped believing that her concerned glances and gentle touches meant anything beyond deep affection—sisterly affection. Yet he'd held on to those feelings even when they started to fade, because he had never known anything different. It was a twisted form of both protection and punishment: if he still loved her, then he wouldn't risk his heart being broken by another rejection. Yet knowing Mor would never feel the same, that she had her own lovers and relationships, was like being stabbed in the chest. He wasn't sure when it started to hurt a little less each time he thought about it.

With that pain easing, the resentment he'd carried buried deep down for most of his life began to fade as well. He never once held it against Cassian. He knew it wasn't his fault Mor had chosen him. Who would have chosen Azriel anyway? He wished things were different, but he didn't blame either of them. It still chafed, though. It was something he couldn't shake, like a shadow lingered on the edges of his heart, and it resurfaced whenever he saw Mor and Cassian together.

And his brother… Azriel loved him deeply, and he was grateful to have him in his life. But there was no denying how different they were, and sometimes it felt as if Cassian didn't really understand him. There was a rage inside Azriel, rarely rising to the surface but it was there, born the moment he'd seen his mother's fear in the presence of his father. That rage never left. It grew until Azriel had to learn how to contain it, to live with it, for the sake of the people around him and his own.

Cassian never really understood it. Rhys did, though. Azriel knew that if he pushed, Rhysand would match him. Yet his brother still tried to thaw and tame that icy rage he had grown so accustomed to, which was probably an honorable aim—if Azriel hadn't lived with it so long that he wasn't sure who he would be without it.

He loved his family deeply, and he knew they loved him back. But they didn't always understand him, and he often felt out of place among them.

~~~~~~

Velaris was his home, and he'd do anything to protect it. He tortured and killed for that very reason many times. But at the end of the day, the City of Starlight was just that—a city. No matter how beautiful or welcoming, it was too vast a place to call home.

He had never bothered buying an apartment or a town house for himself. Maybe he should have. But the House of Wind had always been enough, with its views and endless rooms. It was practical living there—there was the training ring, the hall where Rhys held court, and the library for when he wanted some quiet.

But the House of Wind belonged to Rhys. Now that he had given it as a mating present to Nesta and Cassian, it was theirs. They assured him he could still live there, that his room would always be his, but Azriel had preferred to move out. He had no interest in living there during their mating frenzy.

The townhouse and the river house belonged, once again, to Rhys and Feyre. They never made him feel like he owed them anything for staying there—Elain lived there too, after all—but Azriel longed for a place he could call his own. Yet the idea of buying an apartment had still felt too definitive. He had tried, but none of the places he'd seen made him want to own them.

He had almost given up hope of finding a place he could call home, but then he met you. And he realized, after five hundred years, that maybe home wasn't a place at all.

“Az?”

Your voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present, to the feel of you in his arms and your big eyes staring up at him.

“Baby, are you listening to me?”

Azriel blinked, slightly shaking his head to chase away the remnants of his past. He looked down at you, and his heart fluttered at the love shining in your eyes.

“Hi,” you said with a soft smile. Your hand came up to cup his face, the touch warm and familiar. “I lost you. Where did you go?”

“Sorry,” he breathed. “I was just thinking.”

You waited patiently, giving him the freedom to continue or return to your conversion. Embarrassment flooded Azriel as he realized he couldn't remember what you were talking about.

He held you imperceptibly tighter, trying to find the right words to convey what he felt.

“I never felt like I fit in anywhere,” he said eventually. His voice was quiet even in the silence of the room, and he struggled to keep his eyes open when all he wanted to do was lean into your touch. “I've been looking for where I belong for centuries.”

It came easy to voice those thoughts to you. You never judged. You listened, and then you gave your opinion or simply shared your own thoughts. You saw all of him, and you didn't run from it. You accepted him. You loved him.

Sometimes, Azriel still wondered if it was all a dream or if you were really a part of his life.

“And have you found it?” you murmured, your thumb brushing his cheek just below his eye.

Azriel nodded. “I found it.” He took your hand, gently removing it from his face to bring it closer to his mouth. He pressed a tender kiss to your palm, his lips lingering on your skin before he repeated the gesture with your fingertips. Your smile was soft as he murmured, “I found you.”

Your eyes, which had been following the movements of his lips, shot up to meet his. Even after a year together, he was still mesmerized by how you always wore your heart on your sleeve. It was so easy to read you, and right now, blended with your unconditional love, he could see curiosity and amusement playing on your features.

“Me?” you repeated, your voice a murmur.

Azriel nodded once more, letting go of your hand only to bring his own up to your cheek. “Yes, you, my love.” He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he breathed in your scent. “It doesn’t matter where we are. You’re where I belong. You’re my home.”

Wherever you went, he would follow. If you woke up one day and told him you wanted to move to the Spring Court, or even to Vallahan far east on the continent, he would go with you. He would go with you to the end of the world if you asked.

He could feel your heart beating faster in your chest, and a playful smile appeared on your lips as you pulled back to look into his eyes. “So… is this the right moment to tell you that I wanted to ask you to move in?”

Azriel stared at you, eyes wide, a huge grin slowly spreading across his face. His arms tightened around you, and then you squealed in surprise as his hands found your backside and he picked you up. The sound was quickly swallowed by his lips crashing against yours, and you could do nothing but kiss him back and wrap your legs around his waist, careful not to brush against his wings.

You were both breathing slightly faster when Azriel pulled back, but he didn’t let you go. If anything, he held you tighter, as if worried you might disappear.

“I’ll take it that’s a yes?” you chuckled. Your fingers brushed the hair on the back of his neck, his wings rustling quietly at the sensation.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Of course it’s a yes, love.”

He didn’t care if your apartment wasn’t suited for an Illyrian, if he had to carefully maneuver his wings to avoid knocking things over. He had already spent so much time at your place that he was used to it by now. The thought of staying there permanently—of waking up with you in his arms every morning, of coming back after a long day knowing you’d be there too—filled him with so much joy that his heart could burst.

You beamed, and all Azriel wanted to do was to spin you around and never let you go. And so, he did, because nothing was stopping him. He was going to share a home with his love, and nothing had ever made him this happy before.

As he spun you around, you threw your head back and laughed joyfully, the sound echoing off the walls. Azriel’s laughter joined yours when he stilled, and then you were kissing him again.

After more than five hundred years, he finally knew where he belonged. And it wasn’t a place.

It was with you.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

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holybibly · 3 days ago

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hiiii :> im new here. I’ve never sent anything like this, or anything at all honestly because I get really shy:( I love your writing hehehe it’s very 😳 im sorry to be upfront 😖 but could I request some yunho.. thoughts? AHHHHH im too shy to say it omg🥲🥲🥲 hishandsandhimjusthimbeingadomiwanthimtodestroymeomg. I read your unholy thought of the day for yunho on the fourth, and 😵‍💫😵‍💫 I can’t seem to get him out of my head. M SORRYYY i sound so needy it’s embarrassing.

Your wishes are my commands, my sweet bunnies. If you want more unholy thoughts with Yunho, here you go.

Unholy thoughts of the day, my bunnies: Sometimes Yunho just wants to be a good boy for you and let you use him like a toy. Or Yunho wants to return the favour and warm your pussy with his mouth while you're chatting carelessly on the phone.

You made yourself comfortable on the bed with your legs bent and spread wide apart as you continued to talk to your best friend on the phone, discussing your trip to Jeju together next month. Yunho was lying on his stomach between your legs, mooing softly and contentedly as he pressed his handsome face against your pussy. In this position, you could easily see his plump, bare buttocks peeking seductively out from under the edge of his oversized, homely t-shirt.

As he began to wriggle slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, you could catch a glimpse of his thick, large cock with its swollen veins and black vibrating ring at the base. The swollen head was red and shiny from the copious amounts of pre-cum that had leaked out, and you unconsciously licked your lips, thinking how good it would taste when you finally took his cock in your mouth. It was strange, and you know many would consider you a pervert, but sometimes you just wanted to suck his cock and heavy testicles like a favourite pacifier, not for sexual pleasure but just for comfort. Just like Yunho liked to keep his fingers deep inside you, feeling your slippery, warm walls clinging greedily around them. You were a dirty couple; sue you for that.

He purrs softly, drawing your attention back to him, and you stroke his hair as that moist, soft mouth completely surrounds your tiny pussy, providing warmth, and you can feel the faintest hint of his tongue pressing against your tender folds and labia, but nothing more. You've only recently started practicing pussywarming with him, and you have to say it's been an exciting experience. You loved warming Yunho's huge, delicious cock in your tight cunt, but your gorgeous boyfriend thought it only fair to return the favour and warm his sweet girl with his mouth while you went about your routine business.

You weren't surprised at all by his desire, Yunho loved to eat pussy and he was amazing at it, you loved how messy and sloppy a eater he was, always greedy and slobbering licking your cunt and pulling as many orgasms out of you as he could before you begged him to stop, although even that wasn't much of a reason for him to stop swirling his tongue around your tiny hole. You also practiced 'free use' by refusing to wear any underwear at home and sometimes outside.

You were so excited to try something new and please your boyfriend, but damn if anyone told you it was going to be as easy as it seemed.

At first it was an unbearable pleasure, almost on the verge of pain, when Yunho had to restrain himself with all his might from licking you like crazy and sucking your cute clit into his insatiable mouth, wrapping his lips around it, and sipping it every now and then. But the more you did it, the easier it became, and now Yunho was warming your pussycat with his mouth like a champion. Spend hours between your legs while you were doing your usual things. You don't want your friend to hear your next words, so you put your phone away.

"You look so sweet, baby." You pull his hair harder, and he looks up at you with his huge eyes clouded with pleasure, carefully dipping the tip of his tongue into your slit. "You make me feel so good, Yuyu."

He lets out a low moan at your praise, bobbing his head up and down a little as if you were riding on his face to heighten pleasure, and your thighs tremble a little at the delicious stimulation. Yunho lifts his hips off the bed and slides his hand underneath to stroke his needy cock. The soft fabric of his shirt slides all the way down the curve of his ass and to his waist, exposing his buttocks, and you bite your bottom lip from the seductive sight.

This also serves as a signal for you to end the conversation quickly and let him fuck your pussy properly.

"Yuri, I'm sorry, but I have to go; Yunho and I have plans for tonight." You smile as you see Yunho's eyes darken and become heavy with sensual anticipation, and he no longer holds back, starting to tickle your clit quickly and jerkily with the tip of his tongue. You almost scream, ignoring your friend and hastily pressing the end call button. "Oh fuck, Yunho."

He finally releases your cunt from his mouth, only to spit into it and immediately smear his drool all over your folds with his tongue.

"Are you going to sit on my face or am I going to fold you in half, princess?" He purrs before wrapping his lips around your clit and tugging. You arch your hips and pull his hair roughly.

"How about 69, baby? I want to taste you too."

#ateez smut #kpop smut #atz smut #ateez hard hours #ateez unholy hours #smut #ateez au #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #yunho smut #jeong yunho smut #ateez hard thoughts

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melonglossz · 2 days ago

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“stop moving, toshi.”

“sorry, love.”

it has been a long week for both them and ushijima. him with his vigorous volleyball practices and them with all of their schoolwork and classes that felt never-ending. so, when the both of them had no plans this weekend, they decided it was the perfect time to do some self-care, watch crappy reality tv, and eat whatever they wanted (well, they would eat whatever they wanted, ushijima would stick to his diet).

it wasn’t often that they got to go all out with their skincare or ushijima’s, so that meant pulling out all the stops: face masks, expensive face creams, lip scrubs, and under-eye masks.

sighing, they couldn’t help but smile as the hands on their waist tightened. “alright, i think we are done.” they patted their boyfriend's cheek as they removed the eye mask from under his eye. they knew by the furrow of his brows and the fidgeting that they wouldn’t get the second one on (honestly, they was surprised they even got the first one on since ushijima has a thing with things being put in or around his eyes).

“hm,” ushijima’s eyes fluttered open as he stared at them with a pout on his lips, “if you’re sure.”

“what,” they giggled, “you want to keep going?”

“i don’t mind, as long as you don’t put those things under my eyes again.”

their smile widened. “well, i guess some chapstick wouldn’t hurt.” they tried to move towards the bathroom counter but was stopped by ushijima wrapping his arms around their waist and pulling them closer to where he sat on the toilet lid. before they could ask him what he was doing he pulled them in for a kiss. immediately their hands go to the nape of his neck and their fingers play with the hair there. the kiss in of itself wasn’t anything crazy, they didn’t feel butterflies in their stomach or exploding fireworks instead, they felt warm and safe and happy. the two of them kiss like they have all the time in the world, like nothing else mattered except the two of them in this bathroom. they eventually break from the kiss and rest their forehead against his. they gave him a couple more pecks before moving back so they could look at his face.

“not that i didn’t enjoy it, but what was that for?”

“chapstick,” he said with a cute smile and shrug.

they let out a surprised laugh as they smacked his shoulder “oh my god, wakatoshi!” sometimes they couldn’t believe that they got to be with this man. they placed their hands on his cheeks and just stared at him. god, they wished they could take a picture of ushijima like this, with his hair pushed up off his face with a my melody headband (they had a matching kuromi one), face clean and bright, a cute smile on his face, and most importantly eyes that were filled with so much love it hurt them sometimes. they were forever grateful that they were the only person in the world who got to see him like this.

“come on lover boy,” they reached for both his and theirs headbands and took them off, throwing them on the counter, “we have a show to get back to.”

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ihaveasolutionbutyouwontlikeit · 1 day ago

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Like anything it always comes down to choice.

From the outside it may look like a disability is making me choose an option that seems favourable, but that option is favourable only because we get to choose it.

I'm tired, I choose to rest. I'm rested, I chose to get up. Rinse and repeat.

What actually happens is I'm tired, I'm injured, I deal with chronic pain or unpredictable symptoms, I'm sad, I'm hurting, I'm recovering, I'm depressed, I'm watching the world burn, I'm in burnout and I wish I could do ANYTHING else but be here in this bed but I CAN'T, I'm stuck here, trapped with this thing that is actually holding me against my will, this malady or state is holding me back from doing the things I DESPERATELY want to do.

There is grief and pain and feelings in there that come with being forced to do something against your will, even if it is "just" staying in bed and coming from the self, and they are valid.

May you never know what it is like to be held in place against your will, or forced to do things you never had a choice in, by your own body and mind.

If you do, I can only say that you are not alone, and I love every holding on and hoping and crying and breaking and healing and tumultuous part of you. Accepting this aspect of ourselves is the most heartbreaking and healing thing we could ever do, and I wish it was the case that acceptance only had to happen once, but that's not real. This breaking and healing will happen again and again and again and again. And you will keep doing, you will keep trying, and you will keep dreaming. Each time may take something valuable from you, but each time will leave something valuable too. It will give yourself and the world you in your truest and strongest form.

If you do, I don't blame you for having done what you sometimes had to, to hold on. Pain and despair turns everyone into shadows of themselves. It does not and never will define you.

I love you on your good days,

but I love you more on the bad ones.

May your soul find peace in its storms and love in its heart. You are not alone.

If you've ever told a person who's had to be bedbound for a period of time that you wish you could "just stay in bed", DO IT.

Stay in bed. For days. But don't get up if someone needs you to, or you get bored, or you get antsy. Don't do anything other than rest. Just lie in your bed, whether you need to get stuff done around the house or socialize or anything else "productive". You'll have to cancel on people, you'll disappoint them, they won't understand.

And if you're thinking, "well, i CAN'T just be in bed. There's stuff that has to be done - I have plans", maybe ask yourself why you assumed a disabled person doesn't have plans or things to do or desires.

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 9 hours ago

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Hiii, loved to see that you a writing for arcane again. Tbh I just loved Isha and Jinx, so could could you make headcanons for how Jinx, Vi and Cait would be like taking care of or rising a kid with a girlfriend or s/o?

Sure I can! I don’t want he post to be huge though so I’ll break it up into three separate ones! Enjoy!

Family Bound

Raising or looking after a kid was not easy by any means, but taking care of one with Jinx was even harder

Jinx does not know how to be a paternal figure, or an older sibling kind of figure

She has really bad experiences with the only ones she’s ever known, so how was she supposed to fix that with some kid she’s not even related to?

But, for your sake, I feel like jinx loves you enough to try

If the kid was your sibling, I feel like she would be more reserved and distant from the child

In some way you and your little sibling remind her of herself and Vi when they were young and it’s not a good thing

She’s only able to take care of the kid once she separated those two things and finally able to bond with the kid

It takes a lot of time and patience from you for Jinx to be able to bond with the kid

If y’all found the kiddo, I feel like it would be easier for her to take care of it more than it being your sibling

When she does come around, Jinx can be very protective of the kid

She’s more the parent that doesn’t discipline and lets the kid get away with stuff, which causes some behavioral issues and arguments between you two cause that’s not really a good thing

So she has to learn from you how to take care of the child

She teaches the kid lots of things like how to invent gadgets, to make sure they work, how to protect yourself, and lots of other things like that

On more positive notes:

You’re the main bridge between the two so when they’re left alone together, they have no clue what to do or how to bond

But you do find little bits and pieces of a genuine bond forming between the two

You see the little smile Jinx wears when she finds genuine joy in taking care of them

She wonders how anyone could abandon their child or harm them when the one she takes care of with you is so beautifully innocent and childlike

In a way the kid heals the inner child and the Powder still inside of Jinx

She takes care of them in the way she wished Silco or Vi was

And she understands them in a way not even you can, especially if they show signs that Powder and Jinx did when she was young

She likes goofing off with the kid, and she likes playing around with them

You’ve found them roughhousing and giggling more times than you could count

and you’ve found them testing out bombs, which only happens when it’s in a safe place and a safe distance away

Jinx would never intentionally harm your guys’ child

She loves them so much that sometimes it’s scary to see how attached she has become

She doesn’t know what she would do if anything happened to you or the kid

She doesn’t ever wanna scare them, which has only happpened once

Jinx was having a freak out after everything has happened, probably after Vi was found to be an enforcer or after their fight

She was going through it, yelling, breaking things and crying and screaming

She didn’t notice how scared your guys’ child was until they started crying

Jinx felt her heart break, and even if she was ashamed of doing it, she ran out

She didn’t know how to handle the gaf she scare them so much

She was gone for a while and when she came back she was visibly distant

It took a lot of patience and reassurance for her to come back around the kid without being hesitant about every move

But the kid loved her, and when she saw your child was more sad about the fact she was gone, it broke her heart and almost healed it at the same time

She doesn’t know what she would do if they feared her badly

She loves coloring with the little girl or boy, and she likes helping them figure out outfits

She likes running around the lanes with them, or going to the old hideout

The two also love messing with Sevika as the woman has now joined your little mini family

Jinx and the kid often pass out together, both on the ground or wherever and limbs tangled and snoring with drool on the corners of their lips

Which means you have to carry both to bed a lot of the time

Jinx loves. Showing he kid to invent, and how to fight and everything

She loves seeing the sparkle in the kids eye when she shows them fireworks and anything Jinx

She and the kid have a bond you don’t know how to describe

She also doesn’t try to keep the fact of who she is and the things she’s done a secret from the child

Sometimes she can be harsh, but it’s from a space of love even if the kid gets hurt feelings

She always makes up for it though

#arcane x reader #arcane #jinx arcane #arcane jinx #jinx x reader #vi arcane #arcane jinx x reader #arcane reader #arcane reader insert #arcane imagines #arcane headcanon #jinx arcane x reader #jinx league of legends #jinx

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softevie · 2 days ago

Text

raspberry delight

pairing: hongjoong x female reader

warnings: smut under the cut so MDNI; established relationship; sub joong, dom reader, sex toys, restraints, blindfold, gag, orgasm control/denial, cock slapping (just a little, as a treat), crying, brief oral (m receiving), nipple play/biting, is there such a thing as precome play? now there is; aftercare

a/n: ah what can I say. I’m a huge sub!joong enthusiast 🤠 this one is a bit rushed but honestly I just couldn't wait to post it. I might rewrite it later though!

word count: 1.7k

divider by: @cafekitsune

It’s getting increasingly harder to stop yourself from bringing him over the edge. The sight of him lying before you, so open and vulnerable, is nothing short of a temptation straight from hell. Or a gift from heaven.

His forearms are brought together over his head by wide leather restraints (firm, yet smooth and soft, sure not to leave any traces when he goes to work), which are in turn chained to the metal frame of your bed. A soft black blindfold clings to his face perfectly, preventing him from seeing any of your moves, the anticipation of your next touch making him squirm. The firm rubber bar between his teeth is not letting him close his mouth completely, drool escaping both corners of his lips, while he’s sobbing so beautifully for you. His abdomen is tensing rhythmically, covered in a shiny sheen of sweat.

His legs are spread open so invitingly, displaying his hard cock resting against his soft stomach. You wish you could just make him cum over and over again, with no time in between, but you pace yourself for both of your sakes. You know he enjoys this just as much as you do. You know he sometimes wishes he could just be your good little toy forever instead of bearing all of that responsibility on his shoulders.

“Aren't I being nice to you?”

You reverently run your palms over the soft skin on the insides of his thighs, and he’s so sensitive that even this light touch is causing him to sob and shiver. His whole body trembles, making his aching cock jump a little.

You’ve played with him for so long already, there’s an impressive pool of precum on his stomach, his bellybutton overflowing with it. You dip your fingertips in it and bring them to his puffy pink nipples, just as sensitive from your play as the rest of him. When you lightly squeeze them with your fingers, he starts whining and thrashing on the bed, almost knocking into you with his knees and even more precum dripping on his stomach. The chain rattles against the bed frame when he strains his arms.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you coo and let go of his rosy buds.

He sniffles wetly, and you can tell that the blindfold soon is going to be soaked in his tears. He tries to say something through the gag, but it’s barely coherent. His mouth moves when he tries to swallow the spit but can’t help the way it escapes his mouth, running down his face and onto the pillow under his head.

“What’s that, hun? You want to cum?”

He nods frantically and sobs again.

“Hm…” you pretend to think, smoothing your hands down his sides. “Just hold on a little more, baby.”

He sighs resignedly as you lean down and gently take one of his nipples in your mouth, the bitter taste of leftover precome exploding on your tongue. You make sure to be gentle when you suck on it, and he moans softly, thrusting his hips up, trying to rut against you, or anything, really; that’s how desperate he is. You move your lips lower to bite and suck at the supple flesh of his chest under the nipple, squeezing the other one with your hand.

After you’re sure there will be a noticeable mark on his chest, you push his hips down to the bed with your hands and lean away, sitting between his legs and admiring your work. There’s no feeling better than having him beneath you like this. While he’s writhing on the sheets, you smile to yourself thinking about how the tip of his overstimulated leaking cock reminds you of a bright plump pink berry, creating a beautiful contrast with his honey toned skin.

Something comes over you, and you do the thing that wasn’t on the menu tonight, but his surprised gasp is worth it. You lean down to press slow kisses along his length, making sure to keep the touch light as to not end this too soon. It’s warm and firm under your soft lips, his scent making your head spin and in a moment of weakness you want to abandon all of this, take him in your mouth and then have him inside. Instead, you take a deep breath and pull yourself together; but not before giving his cock a slow lick from the base to the very tip, which earns you a pretty whine from him.

You bring your hand up and gently tap the head of his cock with your fingertips a few times before lifting them slowly, watching a string of sticky precum stretch and eventually break off, causing him to thrust his hips up again in search of friction. The chain rattles again, like an alarm of his desperation. You take him in your hand and press the tip of your thumb into the wet slit, rubbing it insistently, enjoying all the different sounds you pull out of him. You crave more of his soft cries and whines. The blunt nail of your thumb digs into sensitive skin and he cries out, voice highest it’s been this whole session. You wonder for a second what the neighbors are going to think. Well, it’s not like you and Hongjoong ever tried very hard to keep your preferences secret anyway.

You shush him and rub soothing circles on his sides with your palms.

“It’s alright baby. I’ll give you what you need now.”

You pick up the pink vibrator lying on the bed next to you, turn it on the lowest setting and lightly press it against his aching cock. He sighs and very predictably thrusts up to rub against it but it’s just not getting him there. The soft vibrations are just enough to keep him in this perpetual state of stimulation, but with no release in sight. His frustrated whimpers are music to your ears.

“What’s wrong again? Is this not enough for my baby?” He shakes his head side to side, and you know that if he wasn’t wearing a gag, he would be pouting his hardest right now. “You can’t come like this? Are you sure?” He nods, whining and trying to swallow again, the sound of it mixing well with his wet sobs.

“Alright, well…” you sigh, contemplating while your other hand goes to massage his balls rather roughly, making him whimper. “I suppose, you’ve been a good boy tonight…”

He fights against the gag between his teeth to get the words out.

“Yeth.”

“You deserve your reward.”

“Pleath.” He breathes out, the promise of release making him all giddy.

“Do you want my hand or the toy?”

He’s silent this time and his cheeks grow even pinker than they were before.

“Both?” You gasp in mock surprise, and he nods weakly, ears red. “Greedy boy.” You lightly slap his cock and his whole body jolts with a cry. You watch it bob against his stomach, messy with unfathomable amount of precome and try to stop your mouth from salivating so much.

Even though you just reprimanded him, you bring both the toy and your hand to him. You situate yourself securely between his legs, turn the toy on the middle setting and press it to his tip. He moans loudly as his body goes tense. You wrap the other hand around him an start moving it applying the pressure you know he likes best. He’s full on crying now and chanting “please, please, please” through the gag, hoping you will actually let him come this time. You keep the pace of your hand and pressure of the vibrator steady until his breath catches in his throat.

When the orgasm finally arrives, it hits him like a freight train; he arches his back off the bed and clamps his legs together, trapping you between his thighs. Thick viscous ropes of milky cum shoot across his abdomen and chest, almost reaching his chin. You remove the toy, still softly moving your hand through his orgasm.

“That’s it, good boy, look at you.”

He comes for so long with his whole body taut like a bowsrting, you even get a little worried.

When he’s completely spent and you’re sure his oversensistive cock has nothing left to give, you move your hand away. He collapses back to the mattress, catching his breath.

Still sitting between his legs, you turn your head to the side to kiss his knee and run your hand down his thigh.

“Hold on, sweetheart, I’m going to clean you up, okay?” you murmur into his skin.

He manages to hum in agreement and you get up to grab the pack of wet wipes from the nightstand. You clean him up as gently as you can before discarding the wipes into the little trash bin next to the bed. After that, it’s time to remove the restraints.

You sit on the bed next to him and you take the gag off first, unclasping the little belt on the back of his head, and then put it on the nightstand. He sighs in relief, finally swallows properly and licks his lips. You caress his cheeks and the corners of his mouth, which are slightly sore.

“That’s it, baby, you’re okay,” you coo placing loving pecks on each corner of his mouth.

Next are the restraints on his arms, which you fist unchain from the bed frame and then remove from his forearms to place next to the gag. You rub his wrists even though they’re not really sore, and run your palms over his arms. When you slowly remove the blindfold as well, your heart clenches with affection when his puffy red eyes meet yours.

“Hey,” he whispers.

“Hey,” you reply, petting his hair with your hand. “You’re with me?” You caress his cheeks, wiping his tears away.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He smiles up at you. He pulls you down by your t-shirt into a gentle kiss, his warm dry lips moving against yours.

“You did so well, honey,” you move away shortly to mumble into his lips before going back to kissing him.

“You too,” he pecks your lips. “Thank you for doing this, you’re so good at it.”

You lie next to him more comfortably and go back to slowly making out.

“No, thank you. For being such a good boy for me.”

#kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #ateez smut #ateez x reader #hongjoong x y/n #ateez fanfic

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lenaswritingandstuff · 3 days ago

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Right again • Tom Riddle x f!reader

Requested: No

Pairing: Tom Riddle x f!reader (+ SPOILER x f!reader)

Summary: Tom, who always thought relationships were meaningless, changed his mind when he met y/n. He plans on telling her how he feels, however, it doesn't go as planned, and he finds himself to be right - again.

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: Fluff; angst; English is not my first language.

A/N: It wasn't supposed to be this long lmao. I will write the same plot with Mattheo, Draco, Lorenzo and Theo in the future - hopefully with a better title lol. PLEASE PLEASE DON'T LET THIS FLOP OR YOU WON'T SEE ME ON HERE AGAIN LOL. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Sorry for the typos. Hope you enjoy it! xx

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan @blocked-zombieartist

Tom Riddle was in his dorm, one of the only places in Hogwarts where he could be by himself, and where he could be doing the things he enjoyed the most - studying and reading, both in silence. But, despite being currently sitting on his desk - always perfectly arranged -, he was not currently reading a book or studying. Instead, he was doing something he never thought he would do and was feeling something he never thought he would feel: thinking about a girl, and being nervous about a girl.

Contrary to Mattheo and his friends, Tom has never cared for relationships - he could barely bear being around Mattheo’s friends if serious, meaningful discussions or activities weren’t involved. Sure, he cared for Mattheo, more than he cared to admit, because they were of the same blood. And for Tom, blood was one of the things that mattered the most, alongside loyalty, knowledge and influence.

And y/n.

Tom had always thought Mattheo was the only person he could ever care for - after all, they needed to have some sort of loyalty towards each other if they wanted to have a chance to fight their father - but, just like he was surprised to learn he did not want to follow his father in his quest for tyranny, Tom was surprised to find himself caring for y/n.

Just like he had never cared for friendship, Tom had never cared for love. He did not think it was a weakness as his father did, but he did think it was not as important as people made it out to be. And, also, why care for love when something terrible, something that would likely cost lives was being prepared?

But then again, y/n challenged that idea. Despite being in the same house and the same year, it took Tom several years to properly notice her. He knew she was one of Mattheo’s close friends outside of his usual group, and that gave them occasions to spend time together. Strangely, Tom had first found her company more tolerable than the others - she seemed to understand his will for silence, deep conversations and his interests, seemed to have the same thirst for knowledge. She was kind as well, having what people called “a heart of gold”, always ready to help anybody in need. She was also warm and funny, two things she shared with Mattheo, and it usually didn’t take people enough to want to be her friend. Tom had considered y/n the closest thing he had to a friend, and he thought he would stay that way until, one day, he saw her and Mattheo sitting closer to each other than usual, and he felt something strange, something he didn’t expect to feel, and something he struggled to understand - jealousy. He didn’t think it was that at first, but it became obvious it indeed was jealousy when he found himself wishing that he was the one sitting next to her, and not Mattheo.

From that moment, he kept thinking about y/n in ways he had never done before - how beautiful she was, how he loved her smile, how he wanted to hold her hand, to smell her addictive perfume, to be the person who mattered most to her… how he wanted to hold and kiss her. He had considered those thoughts as foolish at first and tried to not have them, but everytime he was with y/n, they came back running, and he sometimes had to restrain himself from sitting closer to her just to smell her perfume when they were in class, or to hold her hand when they were studying in the library. He didn’t have anybody to ask questions to - Mattheo would laugh at him - so, like he always did, Tom gave himself the answer: it was love. At first, he thought it was only temporary and it didn’t even cross his mind to tell her about it, but he was forced to admit that, instead of disappearing, those feelings became stronger with each day passing. The idea displeased him, and he tried to avoid y/n so these feelings would go away, but it was in vain, and only made him miss y/n - and made him love her more. But one day, as he was sitting on his desk busy thinking about her instead of studying, the idea of just telling her how he felt seemed right. Of course, the idea of rejection secretly terrified him, but he would accept simply being her friend. y/n deserved a loyal, sincere friend and that is what Tom was. All she had to do was give him a chance he could be the boyfriend - the word seemed so meaningless compared to what he felt - she deserved, a boyfriend who would be loyal, caring, sincere, and who would put her and her needs and safety first.

Thus, he got her favorite flowers, and, having thought about what to say to her for hours, decided to go and ask her to have a moment of her time. And now the time had come. He grabbed the bouquet, and, trying to pull himself together, left his dorm. At that hour, y/n should be in the common room. With a bit of luck, she would be alone. Tom headed for the common room, which was nearly empty except for two first years laughing. He started looking for y/n, and his heart, which had started to beat faster with nervosity and hope, almost broke.

y/n was indeed here, standing in a corner of the room - kissing Mattheo, who had a hand on her waist and the other in her hair. He broke the kiss, looked at her in a way Tom had never seen him and y/n had a smile before Mattheo pressed his lips on hers like he couldn’t help it.

Tom took a step back, and the only thing that stopped him from dropping the bouquet was the noise he knew it would make. He turned around and quickly yet silently went back to his dorm - where the flowers finally met the ground. His back against the door, he almost wanted to laugh now. How could he have been so foolish? It should have been obvious to him from the start that y/n, warm and kind y/n, would prefere Mattheo, Mattheo would everybody loved or at least fond of, who had no problems making friends and be with people, Mattheo who had never been anything like their father. Mattheo, who people didn’t intimidate or rightfully found cold and strange.

You’ve won, brother.

As always, Tom Riddle found he had been right. Love was meaningless, and he should never have cared for it - should have never cared for her - in the first place.

He was right, but for the first time in his life, he wished he wasn’t.

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buckysfaveplum · 1 day ago

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doomsday

summary: missions don't always go according to plan, sometimes you lose people- that's the job. bucky told you that himself.

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3k

warnings: violence, character death, um yea this one's sad. OH and Steve is dead in this (I mean he was like 90 something in endgame...)

a/n: GUYS omg i missed youuu i hope you remember me. its been like almost two years? i moved to ireland and started grad school! things are different. buttt here’s a new fic cause i’m back!!! ANGST omg im sorryyyy.... idk I wanted to right something that hurt okay okay bye (:

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You hated funerals.

The suffocating smell of formaldehyde and roses wafted through the wake hall. The sounds of distant friends and relatives feigning grief, playing up small interactions with the deceased as more than just pleasantries while siblings and best friends' voices seem to be gone with a lack of words to express their suffering. The stale cookies and donuts in the hall, as if someone’s lover isn’t lying in a casket 50 feet away. All wrapped up in black dresses, suits, and handkerchiefs.

You hated funerals.

Today was no exception. An agent lost on a routine mission in Guam, taking out an arms dealer terrorizing a village. There were loose connections to Hydra, but just petty violence and shootouts for nothing. It shouldn’t have resulted in the loss of an agent. But sometimes things go wrong. A gun barrel stalls, someone trips, a civilian happens to be in the way. Sometimes people die. That’s how you ended up here.

Sarah was a good agent, a great one. She was top of her class at Westpoint, went straight to the FBI, and was recruited into SHIELD- all before 30. She was good- too good for a slip-up like this.

As speeches wrapped up, family and friends began to say their goodbyes. A line formed at the casket as people poured their hearts out for the redhead you once called a friend. You waited patiently at the back, making sure you were one of the last. You always did. Maybe out of respect, perhaps guilt? Who knows. You always felt guilt, even if there was nothing to be done. There was guilt.

Finally, as the small crowd left the room, flooding into the hall outside, you made your way to the front. Laid out before you, Sarah’s curly and wild hair was in two thick braids on each side of her head, a blue dress covering her as well as a soft cream cardigan. She looked beautiful and peaceful. But she was dead. Your friend was dead. No makeup or pretty clothes would lessen that blow. The plush velvet of the casket seemed to soften the prison that her body would rest in. At every funeral, you were reminded of how you wished to be cremated.

“I’ve never seen her hair so flat,” you turned to see Bucky standing beside you.

“You know, even wet her hair always seemed to spring up. Had a mind of its own,” you said, your gaze resting on him.

He was clad in a simple black suit, an older set you’d gotten him at a vintage shop. Something familiar. A simple cream button-down, no tie. It was simple, but that was him. What was most striking though was his serene demeanor. It never seemed to settle with you how unaffected by death he was. How easily he was able to gather himself and keep going. You couldn’t blame him though, 90 years of pain, death, torture, and violence will do that to you. You’d only seen him torn up once. And it was beyond devastating. Steve. “You okay, kid?” he asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

He was your partner, in every sense of the word. In the field, as a friend, in life. He was everything. Your taut shoulders melted under the firm comfort of his vibranium arm. You could rest in its embrace a thousand times and never cease to crave its solace when away. He was your rock through every debriefing, call to family, black dress, and smeared mascara. Who knows what you would be without him?

You rested your head on his chest, breathing in the potent smell of his old cologne and something that was distinctly Bucky.

“I hate funerals.”

——

“Do you ever think about dying?”

Bucky’s grip on you tightened slightly at your words. Wrapped in the soft linen of your duvet and the sunlight streaming in through your windows, his body lay around yours. His short choppy locks were tousled fresh from his slumber. The previous night’s sleep had yet to let go of his consciousness fully, still cozy and relaxed in your shared bed. His vibranium fingers continued to play with your hair as he considered your question.

“Not anymore,” he said.

Your face scrunched in confusion at his words. Your fingers traced gently over the thick scars on his left shoulder. They mangled and twisted, sprouting in angry red from the line where his skin met vibranium. Shuri had done her best to soften the tissue when replacing his arm, but only so much could be done.

“I did a lot when I was first drafted. I was scared of it then. And in those early days under Hydra. It was all-consuming. But at some point, I wasn’t scared of it, I embraced it- prayed for it,” your fingers froze at his words. It was nothing new to you, you had spent countless late nights and early mornings recounting the abuse of his days as the Winter Soldier. But hearing him say flat out how he wished to die. That was jarring. “After the Blip, I’ve just become a bit numb to it. I don’t really think about it if that makes sense. It could always happen.”

His hands danced down your spine as if his words were simple.

“You expect it?” You asked, propping yourself up on your elbow.

“It’s the job, Y/N. It comes with the territory. Sometimes you lose people. And it could always be you,” he said, giving you a soft look. “You know that, doll”.

“I just, I don’t expect it in the field you know?” you relaxed a bit, regretting the subject you forced upon him.

“Hey, maybe that wasn’t the best way to put it,” he said, giving you a ginger smile as he leaned close and cupped your cheeks in his hands. “Death has just followed me for a long time, doll. I mean I’m a 106. I’m just not scared of it anymore.”

You tucked yourself into his chest, his words soothing the fears swirling in your mind. You knew the job was dangerous. That any mission could be the last. You just hoped it would never be him.

“Why do you always pick the heaviest topics of discussion early in the morning?” he asked, his voice still groggy from sleep. He smiled as you chuckled against his chest.

“Probably cause I’m hungry, Plum,” you said, turning to lay on your back as you smiled up at him.

“Yea? What could we do about that, huh?” that devilish smirk of his could stop your heart anytime and you’d be grateful. “Pancakes? Clinton St?”

You nodded eagerly at his suggestion before taking his hand and slipping from the bed.

——

The rumbling of the quinjet shot up your spine. Sam and Bucky’s relentless bickering filled the steel jet as you came closer to your destination. Your gloved hands worked at strapping your knives to your thighs as they quarreled over how best to stain wooden beams in Sam’s living room during your and Bucky’s next trip down to Louisiana.

“No! NO! Buck, that stain doesn’t go with the accent wood in the kitchen! I already told you,” Sam said as he fixed his shield to his back. You chuckled as you walked over to them. Your backup squad, full of agents fresh from SWORD’s training academy, snickered at the two men as Bucky rolled his eyes.

“The beams are in your living room, what does it matter?” He said.

“I wouldn’t take any interior design advice from him, he wanted a purple couch in our living room,” you said, wrapping your arms around Bucky’s waist. Sam laughed as he turned to grab the mission report. The jet was drawing close, entering stealth mode and preparing for landing.

“It was a plum color,” Bucky grumbled, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“Okay team, huddle up!” Sam said. “This is just a simple in and out. We gotta get these hostages out safely so no risky moves- I’m lookin’ at you, Buck.”

Bucky threw his hand up in defeat, scoffing jokingly under his breath.

“I’ll swoop through and scout entrances, Squad Two you’ll be with me for direct combat. We’re clearing out the building. Squad One, you’ll be with Y/N and Bucky, you’re getting those hostages out. You bring them straight back here, got it? There’s four so it shouldn’t be too strenuous,” he said, closing up his report before slipping on his cowl. “Alright team, let’s show ‘em what we got.”

——

Fluorescent red light filtered across your face as you slipped through the hallways. Half the squad led ahead of you, banging on doors in search of the hostages. Bucky hung close behind you, the rest of your squad keeping your entrance open for your escape. His hand rested on the gun strapped to his hip as he kept an eye on your blind spots.

Watching your back on the field was second nature to him. Protecting you, be it on the subway or in an active battle zone, was something he felt born to do. A reason to survive all those years under Hydra.

After several doors, your team stopped; having heard the pleas for help on the other end of the steel doors, they backed up to allow room for an agent to blast the lock. You stumbled back into Bucky, tripping on your own feet. His arms caught you before you could even glance at the floor. You felt his fingers gripping your hips and fidgeting with the straps on your thighs as you straighten.

“Some reflexes you got,” you whispered to him.

“Can’t let my babydoll fall,” he said, kissing the back of your head before his focus shifted back to the lock, now falling to the floor.

The agents flooded into the room, pulling hostages out and bringing them back into the hall. As they streamed out, you realized something was wrong. You only counted 3.

“Where’s the fourth hostage?” you asked.

Bucky commed Sam, hoping he’d scanned the place and found a lead. As he spoke, you gathered the agents, giving them an order. Lead them through the building, get out to the other half of the squad, and get them into the jet. You’d meet them on the other side. You and Bucky would find the last hostage. The agents fled, leaving you and Bucky alone in the dark hallway.

“Where are they?” you asked. Bucky sighed, as he grabbed a knife from his hip.

“In the lab in the basement, must’ve been the first to get taken,” he said.

The hostages weren’t nobodies. Prisoners were taken from SWORD on a mission to squash a newly established radical group. A group that seemed to resonate with the ideas of Hydra. This mission was all too familiar to Bucky, and all the more upsetting. You gave his free hand a firm squeeze before you turned and bolted to the lab.

You could feel the heaviness of the lab as soon as you entered the basement. The looming presence of the sterile room filled the hallways as you stalked toward it. Bucky was unusually quiet as he covered you from behind. You knew this was triggering, it had to be. He would always tell you he was beyond triggered episodes, having gotten a firm grasp on his PTSD. But you knew better. The subtle tremor in his brow told you so.

As you reached the eerie room, you stilled. Bucky came up behind you, resting a hand on your waist as you assessed the space. Metal shelves lined the walls full of jars, syringes, and test tubes. Sleek steel tables with rags soaked in blood, white grimy cabinets full of scalpels and needles, and an operating table at the center. The floors were coated in grot, each crack in the tile stained brown. Your mind couldn’t help but wonder if this condition was what Bucky was used to for all those decades.

Realizing the area was clear, you entered. Quickly, you spotted the hostage. Strapped to a chair in the corner with an IV jabbed into his arm. Bucky squeezed your arm as he headed over, slipping his knife back on his hip.

You felt a pit growing in your stomach. You pulled your gun gently. This hostage didn’t look familiar, you thought Sam said he was a brunette, not blonde.

Bucky began to break the straps holding the man down. Slipping the IV gently from his arms, Bucky eased him up into a sitting position. He spoke to the man calmly, explaining to him who you were and that he was here to get him out. He seemed off, but Bucky just assumed it was the experimentation. He was wrong.

“Do you know who we are?” Bucky asked, helping the man up.

“I know who you are, Soldat,” the man said.

A chill ran through your legs, almost toppling you over. You reached for your gun, but the man was quicker. He was able to log four bullets into Bucky’s chest before you could get one in his skull.

Shots rang out in the room, flooding your ears. As soon as you pulled the trigger, the man fell to the ground. Your bullet nestled into the side of his head. Your hands were shaky as the gun fell from your grasp, clattering across the floor and sending echoes through the rotting room. Of course it was a trap. The rubber of your boots squeaked as you sprinted your way over to your lover. He stumbled back against the filthy wall, his hands pressing firmly on the holes scattered across his chest.

As soon as you reached him, his legs seemed to give out. Everything in you tried to keep him up, your hands gripping the straps of his suit to keep him from surrendering to the floor. But he was too heavy. You followed him down, gathering him in your arms and holding him close. His breathing was labored and rough. Squeaks and coughs escaping from his punctured lungs haunted your ears, taunting you as you desperately tried to get him to stand.

“Baby, baby come on… you gotta get up, love,” you said, pulling him as you tried to get his attention.

His eyes were fixed on the mess in his chest. Blood bloomed across the fabric of his blue suit like a watercolor painting. His hands slipped from their place over the wounds and grasped yours.

“Y/N…” he said. You froze at his voice. It was weak and unsteady. His grip on your hand was tight, too tight. He was always so gentle with you. As if you were glass under his hands and he was afraid you cracked. Now, he gripped you so hard you were afraid your bones would fracture.

“Bucky, you gotta get up. You’re gonna be okay,” you said as you tried to stay calm, but your voice failed you. You commed Sam, “Sam, Sam! Bucky’s down, I need help please!”

You tried your best to stop the bleeding, tearing fabric from your pants to stuff the wound and slow the blood. But it didn’t seem to help. Bucky’s vibranium hand rose to your cheek, holding you steady. You mumbled to yourself, beginning to panic as blood spilled onto your hand; it stained the groves in your knuckles and cakes in your fingertips. Bucky’s coughing finally brought you out of your spiral. Blood began to trickle from his mouth.

“Doll…I can’t- I can’t breathe,” he said, his voice hoarse from the blood filling his throat.

“Bucky, hang on for me okay, please,” you said, your hands grasping his face and pulling yourself closer. You pressed a firm kiss to his forehead. When you pulled back, you could see it in his eyes.

“Y/N, I’m scared…” you felt bile rise in your throat at his words. The reality of the situation began to set in. Sam’s glitchy voice rang through your coms but you barely registered it.

“You’re okay, plum. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re gonna be okay,” you said. Your voice was frantic and distraught. The need to reassure him he would make it was overwhelming. But was it for him or you? Perhaps if you kept repeating it, doomsday would stay at bay.

His hands returned to yours, grabbing them and pulling you close as another cough racked his body. Blood speckled across your hands. You were white in the face, all the color drained.

“I…I love you, kid,” he said, his grip loosening.

“No, baby, you’re gonna be okay. Sam’s on the way, it’s-”

“Y/N, I love you,” your hands gripped his tighter, wishing the firm hold he had minutes ago would return as his hands became limp in yours.

“… I love you, Buck,” you said softly, resting your forehead on his.

You pulled him close, kissing his lips one last time. You felt his breathing slow, his lips still. You didn’t pull back, you couldn’t. You knew what would await. A thick sob slipped through your chest.

You tucked yourself further into his body, pulling him close and wrapping your arms around him. His head rested tucked into the crook of your neck, your hand tangled into his hair. You closed your eyes as you pressed your face into his hair, your free hand stroking his back and you rocked his now limp body. And you waited for Sam.

——

The smell of formaldehyde was the same, but no roses- Bucky preferred lilacs. You didn’t want the standard service, but SWORD insisted. No speeches, except for the pastor leading the service. You didn’t want any speeches, you knew Bucky would agree.

You sat in the back, behind the small crowd of agents, friends, and the team you had come to consider family. Sam kept looking over his shoulder, keeping an arm behind him and resting on your knee. Perhaps he was trying to stop its shaking through the service or just to bring you comfort.

The service was simple, it was quiet. It was small. But it didn’t change anything.

You hated funerals.

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withwritersblock · 2 days ago

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Daylight

~Daylight by Taylor Swift~

Author's Note: requested! I love Nathan Mackinnon Summary: erm friends to strangers to friends again to lovers? Warnings: swearing maybe? Word Count: 5,431 Nathan Mackinnon x fm!reader

It was a huge life decision that she was convinced was going to fail miserably. Moving to the States felt like an awful decision but she was tired of staying in the same place she has lived in her whole life.

Her newly found ex-boyfriend also had lived there his entire life and it showed. There was never any desire to grow or change. There was no way she wanted to stay in Nova Scotia her whole life. Despite it being one of the most gorgeous places in the world, there was plenty gorgeous places in the States too.

She sent her resume to probably a hundred different places and Denver ended up being the best option. They offered the most travel money and salary. It seemed perfect. Her apartment was only two blocks away from her job and on nice days she was more than willing to walk.

Today, it was April and her apartment was covered in boxes. The movers were able to bring everything into the apartment but after that there was nothing they could do. She was making good money, great money. Some of the best money she’s ever made in her entire life so she might’ve went a little big on the apartment; and a little big on the furniture.

Instead of happily unpacking, she found herself sobbing on the floor after she pulled out a framed photo of herself with her ex. It was something she either accidentally packed our the movers did. She was not sure.

They had been together since they were seventeen and they broke up a decade later. It was a lot of her life that she sometimes wished she could get back. There was times she wished she ended it sooner. Because who waits a decade to even bring up marriage.

She got out and that’s all that matters.

Wiping the tears from her face she stood up from the floor and stumbled towards her bathroom, the only room that was semi-unpacked. She decided to shower and get a freshstart on the day. Even though it was well into the afternoon.

After another hour she decided to head down to the coffee shop that was only two buildings over. They were nearly a twenty-four hour place, which is just the coffee shop she needs.

It was starting to get dark as it was close to six at night, but the sun was setting over the mountains, casting a pink and purple hue to the sky. The sidewalks were suprisingly busy with tourists. It was evident by the way they were taking pictures and speeding down the sidewalks towards their next destination.

She smiled towards herself as she stepped inside the coffee shop and it wasn’t crowded. Maybe people didn’t have as big of a caffeine addiction like she did. She walked behind the small line towards the counter, three blonde men stood in front of her and she kept her distance.

She was tuning out their voices as she was listening to the Taylor Swift song playing in the background. After the last one ordered, the three of them erupted into laughter.

“New contract, Caler, thanks for the coffee,” one of them said as they smacked their hand against his upper back. They all barked out a laugh before the first two wandered towards a table near the center of the shop.

The man in front of her, Caler apparently, paid for the coffees before he followed his friends.

The barista smiled towards her, looking somewhat exhausted. She felt a little guilty now that she was there. “Can I get an iced lavender latte to go?” Y/N asked her. She nodded immediately grabbing the largest size clear cup and started writing on it.

“Shut up man,” she heard one of them say from the corner but she chose to try her best to ignore it. She handed her card over to the barista and quickly paid for it, keeping her gaze towards her. “Nate don’t be weird,” she heard again.

She took her card back and subconsciously glanced towards the three of them. She stopped short, holding her card in the air while she met one of their gazes. A man she hasn’t seen in eleven years.

Well, she’s seen him but not like this. Not face to face or in public. He was much older and had a different smile but it was Nathan.

She thought Denver was too big to run into him, especially since he was dominating the NHL at the moment.

“Y/N,” he let out barely above a whisper as he crossed around the table, moving quickly towards her. Her eyes widened as she slowly put her card back into her wallet.

“Nathan,” she let out with a soft grin.

“What are you doing in Denver?” he let out excitedly, his hands were interlocked; almost as if he was trying to decide if he should hug her. She slipped her wallet back into her hoodie pocket as she stepped away from the counter.

Glancing towards the other two boys whom she assumed were his teammates. She was a Canadiens fan since that’s who her parents root for. But she was never obsessed with the sport. Based off of the decor in the coffee shop, she could see from behind Nathan’s head that she should know who they are.

Swallowing hard, “I just moved here for a job,” she explained. His eyes widened as he smiled.

“Where’s Carter?” Nathan asked while whipping his head around to see the two guys staring towards him. He waved his hand at them hoping they would stop.

Her mouth fell open while she took in a sharp breath, “We broke up a few months ago,” she let out.

He pulled his head back while nodding; crossing his arms over his chest. “That sucks, I’m sorry. You guys were together for a long time,”

She chuckled while tilting her head to the side, “Too long, but it’s all good. Needed a fresh start,” she explained while brushing a piece of hair away from her face. He nodded before pressing his lips together.

“Denver’s a great place for that,” he mumbled.

The barista called out Cale’s name and the two other guys jumped up from their seats to go grab their drinks. They were all hot coffee in to go cups.

“It is,” she mumbled as she continued to look into his eyes, “H-how’s the season going? You know I don’t really pay much attention-”

“Still a Habs fan?” Nathan asked as Cale handed him his drink. She smiled and nodded. “Well, we’re heading to the playoffs in a week so we’ll see.”

“Better than the Habs,” she muttered jokingly. He chuckled as he continued to look into her eyes. “That’s great, I hope it works out for you guys,”

“Tha-thanks,” he mumbled.

“Nate, we gotta head out,” the other guy said walking up behind them, “Got to get to the arena. Why don’t you get her number and call her after our meeting?” he teased as he pushed past them. Nathan chuckled as watched them walk away before he met her gaze again.

“That’s Gabe, doesn’t know how to switch off being captain,” he explained. She smiled as she looked into his light eyes again, something in them made her heart flutter. He looks so good.

“I see,” she mumbled as she saw the barista hold out her drink towards her, “Thank you,” she said as she gladly took the drink. Nathan took in a sharp breath as he pulled his phone from his pocket.

“My number’s changed a few times since secondary school,” he explained as he held out an empty contact in his phone. She took a hold of it and added herself to his phone. “Just in case you need some friends in the city, I’ve got a few to spare,” he continued meeting her eye.

“Thanks Nathan, I guess I’ll see you,” she muttered. He nodded before he walked out of the coffee shop. She watched him leave and felt herself overthinking the conversation. Did that really just happen?

“I’m so sorry but how do you know Nathan Mackinnon?” the barista said as she leaned over the counter. Y/N pulled herself out of the small trance she was in and looked towards the dark brown haired girl beside her.

“We grew up together back in Canada. I haven’t seen him since we were sixteen,” Y/N explained, shocked to say the least. The barista smiled widely.

“Wow, that’s like-so cool,” she said while shaking her head. She turned around and immediately started cleaning something.

Y/N nodded with a hum falling from her lips, she continued to walk out of the coffee shop to head towards her apartment again.

~~~

It had been a few days since she ran into Nathan and they had been texting constantly since Nathan was incredibly busy with the end of the season coming up and their first round in the playoffs against the Predators.

Her apartment was slowly starting to come together. Majority of her furniture arrived and she convinced the movers to place it exactly where she needed it to be. Even after a handful of “wait can you actually put it on that side, thank you.” She hated being that person but she didn’t have anyone to help her move them.

The thought of asking Nathan to help crossed her mind but it was such a difficult and essential time in his life. They were in Minnesota for the last game of the season and even in the text messages it was obvious that he was nervous. But he was Nathan Mackinnon and he was not supposed to be nervous.

For the first time by herself, she decided to sit down and watch a hockey game. Her former boyfriend was a huge hockey fan, specifically the Pittsburg Penguins. Because he was such a nice guy he had the multi-broadcast so she could watch the Habs play as well. Whenever they were playing at the same time.

She sat at the center of her new couch and draped a light pink blanket over her lap and she turned on the local Altitude broadcast. She put on her Lehkonen jersey that her father gave her after she said she was moving to Denver.

He told her that if his two favorite people were moving to Denver at least she should have his favorite player’s jersey. He was joking mostly, but her mother didn’t find it that funny. But she promised that she would wear it every time she watched a game or went to one. Especially since her dad actually was close to heartbroken when he was traded.

The game started and she saw Nathan take the draw. She found herself smiling. She was also excited to watch the game again. She hasn’t been excited to watch the game since she was a kid. The joy of watching it with her dad and bonding with him over it was everything. Except Carter took that away from her. The game was ruined for her because of the rage he would get every time they made a bad play or lost the game.

But she was alone, a glass of rosè in her hand and her dad’s favorite player on her jersey. The apartment was nearly pitch black and the only light was the TV screen.

The game ended with a difficult loss but she was happy to actually have enjoyed the game.

All she knew was that the next set of games were going to be hard and she was excited to watch and excited to talk to Nathan about it. The more she thought about him over the last few months, the more she realized how close they used to be.

There was a time in her life where Nathan was always around and they were inseparable. Until he joined Halifax and he became a future star. It wasn’t intentional with how he left, he tried to reach out and be there but his life was going warp speed and hers was slowly moving on.

She never forgot about him and he clearly hasn’t forgotten about her. She took in a deep breath before she stood up from the couch. Placing her empty glass onto the coffee table before she folded the blanket and draped it over the top of the couch.

Her father started to video call her and she pulled her head back for a moment. Never someone to call this late, let alone call her ever. She answered it and held it ahead of her waiting for him to show up on the screen. He smiled widely as he saw the Habs jersey on her body.

“Were you watching hockey?” he asked. She nodded as her lips curled upward into a small grin.

“I ran into someone,” she muttered. Her dad’s eyes squinted while he furrowed his eyebrows. “Nathan,” she let out simply. He tilted his head to the side for a second before his mouth fell open.

“Our Nate?” he let out. She wasn’t sure if he meant Nova Scotia’s or their little social circle.

“Yeah, literally two days after I got here. How crazy is that,” she expressed.

“Man, you guys haven’t talks since he joined the Mooseheads, wow,” he let out. Something felt off with his tone, nearly sarcastic.

“Why are you talking like that?”

“I’m not talking like anything,” he said, pouting his bottom lip slightly.

“Dad,” she nearly scolded.

He took a long dramatic inhale before shutting his eyes, “Nate told his mom about running into you and then she called your mother and we’ve been waiting for you to bring it up to talk about it,” he opened his eyes and glanced away from his phone, most likely her mother.

“I forget how tiny that town is sometimes,” she muttered before she ran her hand across her eyes.

“Are you guys talking?” her mother shouted, it sounded faint through the phone.

“We’ve been texting but he’s busy-you know- being a professional athlete.” she explained while laughing nervously.

~~~

The series against the Predators ended with a sweep for them which led to a long break until the next one for the Avalanche. Which led to Nathan coming over to help finish decorating her apartment. Aka, she went on a late night shopping spree while wine drunk and now her living room is full of boxes once again.

The doorbell rang and she felt her body jolt. She walked towards the door, taking in a deep breath. She pulled the door open and Nathan was standing there holding a bottle of wine. He smiled widely once he met her gaze.

“Hey,” he mumbled. She smiled as she stepped aside letting him into her apartment.

“Hey, you didn’t have to bring anything,” she expressed, referencing the very expensive bottle. He glanced down, smirking.

“It’s actually not meant to be drunk tonight,” he let out. Meeting her eye, she nodded as she watched him delicately place it down onto the counter. Squinting her eyes suspiciously as she pursed her lips forward. He pressed his lips together as he continued to look into her eye.

“I know it was a long time ago but I’ve been doing some thinking. The last time we hung out before I started playing for Halifax we talked about what would happen when I joined the NHL. Do you remember?” he asked, a smile toying to his lips. She shook her head as she leaned against the counter. “We talked about what would happen if I get a chance to win the Cup.”

She nodded, “Oh yeah,” she said with a smile.

“We talked about if I win, we’d drink a $500 bottle of wine and celebrate just you and me,” he expressed. She glanced down towards the wine before flickering her eye back towards him. Furrowing her eyebrows slightly, she tilted her head to the side.

“Every playoff run I’ve thought about that conversation. Even though you were back in Nova Scotia, I still thought about it,” he explained as he tapped his fingers against the countertop. “This was the first season I bought a bottle. I bought it two days before we ran into one another at the coffee shop,”

“Wait, so you bought it before you knew I moved here?” she mumbled.

“If we won the Cup, you were going to be one of the first people I called,” he explained as he smirked towards her. She nodded as she took in sharp breath, “Anyway, let’s get to decorating.” he said switching the subject quickly. She pursed her lips forward as she delicately took a hold of the bottle. Slowly, she delicately ran her thumb across the label, hoping she would get a chance to open it with him.

“I’m looking forward to opening it,” she let out nonchalantly as she put the wine bottle onto a different more secluded counter.

He chuckled nervously as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Gotta win the Cup first,” he mumbled.

“You will, Nathan,” she said with a wide smile. He smirked as he stumbled backwards towards her living room. “I honestly don’t remember what I bought, so this should be fun,” she sat down in front of one of the boxes as he followed in pursuit. Without hesitation, he ripped open the box. He pulled out a picture frame an empty picture frame.

“An empty frame?” he let out while chuckling. She rolled her eyes playfully as she attempted to rip open the box in front of her.

“I told you I was wine drunk,” she defended as she finally ripped open the box. She let out a sudden laugh as the blanket she purchased came into full view. It was a red and white Habs blanket. She pulled it out and held it towards Nathan. His mouth fell open as he giggled.

“You’re going to have to put that away when I come over,” he said while shaking his head.

“Oh, just wait,” she teased while raising her eyebrows. She stood up from the ground and quickly sped walk down the hallway towards her bedroom. After a minute she returned to her living room holding up her Habs jersey against her chest. Nathan looked up towards her giggled.

“Who is it?” he asked while moving his head back and forth trying to see the number on the side. Spinning it around, she showed the Lehkonen on the back. He clapped his hands together while tilting his head back.

“Now you’re just rubbing it in my face!” he let out while laughing.

“At least he plays on your team now,” she said as she sat down on the floor again, delicately placing the jersey on the couch directly behind her.

“Fucking great guy,” he let out while raising his eyebrows.

The rest of the evening was filled with giggling and showing off the ridiculous decor she bought. It nearly reminded her of how they were when they were teenagers. It was as if there wasn’t a decade between the last time they hung out like this.

It’s been years since the last time she felt so giddy. It was almost impossible to let him leave. They hovered at her door for several minutes before he slipped out of the apartment. Hovering for a long time, lot of intense eye contact. Subtle smirks and lack of distance.

~~~

Tonight was a roller coaster of emotions. It was game five against the St. Louis Blues and Nathan had a hat trick and an assist. It should’ve been more than enough to push the Avs to the third round. Except the Blues tied it late and won it in overtime.

She watched the game from her couch, despite Nathan telling her she could hang out with the WAGs. She declined because it felt weird to her since she wasn’t a part of the club. She had her Habs blanket wrapped around her shoulders, squeezed tightly to her chest just beneath her chin.

Her gaze shifted towards the bottle on the counter a few feet away. Knowing that they will get to open that bottle this season. The post-game show was playing in the background but she was only half listening as she was scrolling through her Twitter feed. Most of it was about anything but hockey, it was a decent distraction.

Her eyes widened as her phone started to vibrate in her hands, Nathan was calling her. Her lips curled upward as she saw his name, she knew he wasn’t going to be in a great mood but she answered it anyway.

“Hey,” she mumbled.

“Hey, can I see you?” he asked, his voice was grogging and raspy. It was sudden but she hummed unsure of how to reply, she couldn’t tell how he was truly feeling. “Okay, I’ll be over in like ten,” he said before he ended the call. She pulled the phone away from her ear, staring towards it for a moment before she delicately placed it beside her.

She took a hold of the TV remote and put on New Girl to have in the background. She kept snuggling the blanket in the pitch black apartment, the TV being the only bit of light.

Her phone buzzed beside her and she glanced down to see a text from her dad. She smiled as she lifted her phone to read the message: Give Nate a hug for us, he’s got the next one.

She replied quickly before she turned off her phone and wandered towards her kitchen. She reached into the freezer and pulled out a small pint of ice cream. Quickly, she took a hold of a spoon and began to eat some of the ice cream before Nathan arrived. He was very determined on sticking his diet so he would not be phased by it even if she was eating it in front of him.

After a few minutes, there was several knocks on the door and she set the pint down onto the counter. She walked towards the door and pulled it open. Nathan stood in the doorway, he looked exhausted. His lips fell into a small pout as he looked into her eyes. She reached her hands around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace.

He loosely wrapped his arms around her waist as he slowly stepped inside gliding her inside. The door shut behind them as he continued to hold her to his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she whispered as she started running her fingers through the ends of his hair for a moment. He pulled away looking into her eyes, as if for the first time.

“I’m just glad you moved here,” he let out as he continued to look into her eye. She furrowed her eyebrows, confusion written all over her features. His lips curled up into a small grin, “It was a tough night but next game we’ll win,” he let out.

“That’s it?” she asked suspiciously.

“We lost, did it suck, absolutely, but there’s next game and we’re winning it. Simple,” he explained before he slowly slipped away from her grasp towards the couch.

“You used to go silent after games you lost. There was a time you didn’t talk for nearly two days after you lost a regular season game back before the Mooseheads,” she expressed as she quickly reached for her ice cream and walked towards the couch again. He let out a dry laugh before he rubbed his nose.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Y/N, I’ve grown,” he said sarcastically while he took a hold of the Habs blanket and draped it over his lap, “You’re lucky Drouin’s over there,” he muttered as he held it open for her to sit beside him. Delicately, he laid it over her lap.

Every times the Hab’s were even slightly brought up, he had to have a dig towards the fact that she was a fan, always hinting that she should convert to an Avs fan. Even left her a gift of Lehkonen’s Avs jersey on her doorstep. Said that Lehky’s gonna be sticking around, so you better get an updated jersey.

“It’s good to see you… like that,” she expressed, finding it difficult to get the right words out.

“I would do the silent thing for a long time in the league. I would just get so mad that it was easier to stay quiet than talk,” he said as he held his hand out towards her. She stared towards him mildly concerned. He stole the spoon from her hand and took barely any ice cream and brought it towards his mouth.

“Did you just-”

“Yup,” he teased before he dropped the spoon back into the pint. She chuckled as she took a much bigger spoonful and brought it towards her own lips. “I’ve gotten a lot better and letting things go,” he continued. He took in a sharp breath, “Letting go most things,” he let out as he met her gaze for only a second before looked back towards the screen.

Swallowing hard, she stared towards his side profile. She was always fond of his nose, despite how crooked it looked since his teenage years, he was elegant. “What haven’t you let go?” she poked.

Looking back towards her, meeting her eye he fought the words he wanted to say. “It’s stupid,” he dropped his gaze towards his lap.

“Say it,” she pressed as she leaned forward, placing the ice cream onto the coffee table.

“The night we talked about the Cup and the wine bottle or whatever back then, I remember that was the moment I realized I liked you,” he expressed, “I didn’t really realize it fully but that night I felt something for you I never felt before and then we never hung out again. Which was my bad so I-I guess that I never let go of the fact of what would have happen if I told you, I guess,”

She smiled softly, staring down towards her lap. “What do you think would’ve happened?” she asked, sliding towards him slightly. He tilted his head back against the top of the couch.

“Honestly, we probably would’ve gotten together and I probably would’ve ruined it,” he ran his fingers through his hair, awkwardly.

“Why would you say that?” she pressed further turning her body towards him, leaning her head against the top of the couch. He turned his head, meeting her eye.

“Same reason why I stopped reaching out, being away from you would’ve been too hard,” he expressed. She nodded as she continued looking into his eye.

~~~

She was on the couch watching Nathan raise the Cup. He was crying tears of joy with the horrendous scraggly beard on his face. The Stanley Cup champion hat on his head, he had achieved his childhood dream. The summer of celebrations was about to happen. She wiped her hands across her cheeks, clearing the tears from her skin before she stood up.

She took a hold of the wine bottle and placed it into the fridge because who likes warm wine?

A smile formed to her lips as the Avalanche jersey on her frame was something she never thought she would wear. Especially with how serious her dad was about the Habs. But she knew that he was rooting for Nathan and so was she.

She sat back on the couch and laid down as she watched the remainder of the broadcast, Nathan’s interview, and the team photo. An audible laugh fell from her lips after she watched Nicolas Aubė-Kubel drop the Cup. Everyone’s face was ridiculous.

She reached for her phone to see a text from Nathan: I can’t wait to be in Denver to celebrate with you.

The following morning she awoke to several missed called from Nathan almost as if he spent most of the night trying to get a hold of her. She rolled her eyes playfully as she began to call him back as she stumbled towards her kitchen and her coffee maker.

It took a handful of rings before he answered.

“Hey,” his voice was nearly gone, so hoarse it was barely audible.

“Hey champion,” she teased.

“Still does not feel real,” he let out.

“Denver was crazy last night, they’re excited for you guys to bring it home,” she explained. He chuckled.

“Can’t wait to see you,” he let out, “-And that wine bottle because it fucking happened and we are fucking celebrating,”

It was that same night and she has spent most of the day simply waiting for Nathan. Ever since game five against the Blues, they started flirting more and the tension between them was getting more and more intense.

It was hard to decipher exactly what was the tension from, lust or longing. It was impossible but tonight was the night she was going to try and dissect it and figure it out. She ran her fingers through her recently styled hair and stared into her reflection, trying to decide if she was happy with the way she looked.

It didn’t matter as Nathan rang her doorbell three times. She leaped out of the bathroom and jogged down towards her front door. She pulled it open and smiled towards him. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. A giggle fell from her lips as slowly glided her inside of the apartment.

“It was better than I ever could’ve imagined,” he mumbled against her hair. “Wish you were there to experience it,”

She slowly pulled away, meeting his gaze as she rested her hands on the base of his neck, “I’ll be there for the next one,” she let out. He smirked as his gaze flickered towards her lips for much longer than he would like to admit.

“Yeah?” he let out. She nodded, keeping his gaze towards her lips. “Where’s that bottle?” he said slowly slipping away from her grasp. Perhaps in the need of some liquid courage.

She pointed towards the fridge and he immediately pulled it open to look towards the bottle that’s been on his mind for over a decade. He pulled it out and delicately rested it onto the counter. She had already placed two glasses onto the counter as he was fetching the bottle.

He popped it open, a grin wide on his lips. They giggled as he happily poured two large glasses of wine. He placed it back down as he slid the glass towards her. He brought it towards his lips at the same time as she did and they both took a long sip. It was probably the fanciest wine she’s ever had. He shut his eyes content as he took in a long breath.

It had been several hours later and safe to say they were giggling and incredibly wine drunk. They were laid across her bed, nearly a bottle and a half shared between them, both of them were quite the lightweight.

“No-no cause look I’ve got a bruise from that hug-alright!” he let out while laughing, he tossed his body to the side to try and find the bruise from the impact, he was unsuccessful, it just ended in more fits of laughter.

They slipped in and out of different conversations as they were sprailedd out on her bed, distant at times and really close at others. In this moment it was one of those times where they were incredibly close. Their nose bumping at times from how close they were.

“When I moved here, I genuinely didn’t think I would see you,” she expressed. He hummed as he kept his gaze on her lips, his bright red cheeks were not hiding the fact of how intoxicated he was. Her rambling words were a sign of hers. “Like it didn’t even cross my mind that you lived here because it had been so long but I’m so glad I ran into you,”

“Me too,” he let out.

He reached over towards her and took a hold of her chin as he leaned towards her kissing her delicately. It wasn’t urgent but so delicate that it was almost a confession of love in the process.

He pulled away, keeping a small distance between their lips. A smile formed to her lips before she leaned towards him, kissing him again. She slowly rolled onto her back allowing him to climb on top of her.

#nathan mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon imagines #nathan mackinnon #nate mackinnon imagines #nate mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon #nhl imagines #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #hockey #colorado avalanche x reader #colorado avalanche imagines #cale makar x reader #cale makar fic #cale makar imagines #cale makar

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peachhcs · 2 days ago

Note

omg you should write something of an example where will has dropped everything for samy

i'd do anything for you

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will blurb)

when samy struggles with the semester piling up will takes his chances to fly out and surprise her

1.4k words

hiiii on my posting spree fr fr. here’s a little something i wrote up :)) keep sending in requests!!!

au masterlist

samy couldn't do it. she'd been staring at the 8 problem calculus homework for almost three hours now and none of it was clicking. it should've been easy considering she took it in high school, but something about college calculus was 100x harder than what she did a year ago. to make it worse, will was on facetime attempting to help her through the problems, but it wasn't any luck and the tears were growing thicker in her eyes.

"i don't get it. i don't get it. i don't get it," the brunette buried her face into her arms, trying to keep the sobs from escaping.

"you're getting so close, baby. i promise. we can take a break if you want?" will offered through the screen.

she shook her head, "no, i can't. i need to finish this. it's due tomorrow morning and it's already 12:30."

both of them grimaced hearing how late it was already. will had early conditioning tomorrow which meant he needed to be up in five and a half hours, yet here he was on the call trying to help the youngest hughes through her homework.

"well, you're super close to figuring it out. you just need to derive the function," will continued softly.

"that's what i'm doing but it just doesn't make sense. i can't do this," if anyone knew anything about samy it was that she needed to do everything perfectly or else it wasn't good in her eyes. doing homework ended in hell like this sometimes because samy just couldn't pretend like she did it and hope for the best when she turned it in. all of it needed to be correct.

it also didn't help that there was a lot going on. homework, practice, and classes were staring to pile up as mid semester rolled around and the poor girl was definitely drowning in everything. plus, she really wished her boyfriend was there so he would just hold her and tell her it would be okay.

"you can do this, i promise. if you could do it in high school, you can do it now," the blonde encouraged, but he saw the solemn look on his girlfriend's face and the tears. it broke his heart seeing her so upset about the homework.

"i can't, will. i can't do this. i'm so tired from everything. class, practice, homework—i just need a break or something. wish you were here," samy rambled through her frustration. will frowned even more, hating that he wasn't a step away to be able to comfort her and wipe her tears away.

"i know, i wish i was there too. always thinking of you, sweet girl," his little pet name brought a little blush to her cheeks as she wiped her own tears away.

she wouldn't ever ask him to come, especially with his collegiate season fully underway. she just couldn't ask him to do that for her, even if she really wanted to. she also knew he 100% would and samy didn't want will missing anything and getting yelled at by his coach just for her.

"i'm thinking of you, too. i'll figure it out. i should let you go. you have practice in the morning," samy finally realized the time, lifting her head back up and wiping her puffy eyes from the last of her tears. the sight hurt will's heart.

"are you sure? i don't mind staying up," he said.

"i'm sure. i promise. you need sleep. i need sleep," samy nodded firmly.

"okay, well text me if you need anyting else. i love you," the blonde blew a kiss to the phone. samy did the same back before they hung up for the night.

she decided to just give up. it wasn't worth it anymore and she needed sleep. will, on the other hand, felt horrible. he hated that he couldn't be there for her. the blonde glanced at the clock on his desk knowing that in five hours he needed to be up and it definitely wouldn't feel good, but he didn't care.

he looked over at gabe's sleeping figure in his bed. that boy could sleep through anything which was convenient when will was on call for a bit longer with samy. he reopened his computer and clicked into expedia.

would coach kill him? probably. would he sit bench for missing a weekend of practice? definitely. would he get a stern talking to? most likely. did will care? no.

samy obviously needed him and if he was being honest, he needed her too. with that, will started searching for the earliest flight out to michigan in hopes that a weekend surprise would ease all of the tension.

—

the brunette was at her desk again after class. she forfeited that homework and just hoped her professor would give her some grace for attempting the problems. what samy didn't know was hannah busy on her side of the room texting with will about his arrival.

ethan and mark were tasked with picking the blonde up from the airport. they were excited that the younger boy was coming to visit knowing how stressed samy had been the past few days. luckily, gabe and ryan would do their best to cover for will but honestly, the blonde didn't care about the consequences from coach. if they wanted to bench him, they were gonna go ahead and bench him.

hannah quickly jumped off her bed when there was a small knock on the door. samy didn't hear because of her headphones on, so she was oblivious to will poking his head in with ethan and mark behind him, phones recording.

"she's studying," hannah whispered and opened the door wider. will smiled to himself, setting his bag down and carefully reaching out to tap his girlfriend's shoulder.

she turned her head, expecting hannah, but when she caught sight of her boyfriend's large grin she jumped out of her chair.

"holy shit," the girl exclaimed, jumping into his arms without a second though. the others cheered in excitement.

"hi, baby," will continued grinning as he held her tightly.

"what are you doing here? what about practice?" the brunette had a million questions as she pulled back to really take in will's face and his presence.

"skipped them," the blonde said like it wasn't a big deal.

"what do you mean you skipped them? i thought you couldn't skip practice or else you'd get in trouble," she was in disbelief as she glanced over at hannah, ethan, and mark.

"i mean yeah, but you needed me and i felt horrible that i couldn't be there for you," his words softened her expression and she melted back into him.

"you skipped a whole weekend of practice just for me?" the younger hughes wondered, heart feeling full because she's never had anyone say or do that for her before.

"yup. wanted to see my girl," will beamed.

neither of them cared about the others still in the room as they connected their lips into a sweet kiss. the three awed, happy to see the couple so happy, especially samy.

"i love you," the brunette smiled as they pulled away.

"i love you too," will smiled back and that's when mark and ethan decided to be mark and ethan by pouncing on the blonde's shoulders.

"it's good to see you again, man. we've got good things planned for this weekend," mark smirked while samy rolled her eyes at their antics.

"i'm sure. it's good to see you guys too," the blonde laughed along.

samy went to hannah who's lips were turned up into a smirk that she kept that secret for a good 12 hours. "surprised?" the girl wondered.

"very. thanks for getting him here," samy hugged her roommate.

"of course. anything to get you less stressed for a few days," they shared a laugh.

she eyed her boyfriend again and he immediately met her gaze probably feeling her stare on him. the two smiled again as will reached out to wrap his arm around her torso.

"we'll give you two some space, but then we're getting out tonight!" ethan exclaimed as him and mark trailed out of the dorm.

"i'll go bother amelia two doors down," hannah winked making samy roll her eyes and will flush.

when it was just the two of them samy returned her gaze to her boyfriend who was already looking at her. she pinched his cheek.

"thanks for coming. i'm really glad you're here."

"anything for you. i hope this weekend can ease your stress," will pinched her cheeks back before placing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"now that you're here it definitely will," and with that, the couple climbed into samy's bed for some some much needed rest and cuddles that the two haven't had since summer ended.

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smallnico · 2 days ago

Text

i'm literally so flattered by this. i wish i'd come up with a more thought-out argument so i could properly fight your student. i can do the counterargument now if you'd like.

i'm not scared of generative ai. i'm genuinely concerned for the impact it'll have on the neurological development of young people if they become overexposed to the instant gratification of "bringing their ideas to life" and never practice or develop the skills and labour actually associated with creating something from nothing. it means that if the ai gives you dogshit (and it will), you don't have the ability to fix it, because you're so alienated from the process of creating (writing an essay, drawing a picture, organizing a playlist, composing a song, listening to and analyzing and summarizing the art you're examining) that you don't know what isn't working or how to make it work correctly. if you don't learn how to analyze, if you don't train your brain to do these things, they don't stop needing to be done. you will be dependant on ai, or on others to do these things for you. others, you can sometimes trust, but it really helps to be able to really grok the difference between a grifter, an ignorant person, and a person who knows what they're talking about -- and again, the more you alienate yourself from the construction of their arguments, the less you are able to take them apart and see what isn't adding up. and ai is dogshit, frequently incorrect and incapable of doing the small calculus the human brain can do (if you train it to) to tell the difference between quality of sources and reliability of data, so it should never be trusted, period.

the only part of this "new technology" that i'm scared of is based on a history of ideas that i have actually studied. historically, the more we alienate ourselves from the process of labour, the less we are able to grasp it as a reality, and the more people are able to use that fact to exploit us. if you look at, say, the paper coffee cup on your desk, really look at it. where did that come from? it didn't spring fully formed from someone's imagination. someone had to design the shape of that cup, engineer it so it could contain a hot beverage and keep it hot, come up with the sleeve to make sure the drinker could actually hold it, but there's even more to it than that. someone had to make the cup. someone had to source the paper (or the compound) for the body, the material for the lid, the glue that holds it together. someone had to harvest those materials, in whichever country they were sourced, and someone had to package them and transport them to the company responsible for assembling the cup. someone designed the logo and the pattern on the outside, and someone is monitoring the machine that prints those images on the cup. someone will be responsible for picking up the waste and transporting it to a recycling plant, or to the landfill where it'll end up. let's not even start on the drink inside it. farming, harvesting, shipping, receiving, assembling, serving. it takes time to manifest something, and you are in a position of immense privilege to not have to think about where it all comes from on a regular basis. but what happens when the supply lines get shut down? what happens when there's a failure of irrigation or something in the paper mill and the glue holding the paper together doesn't work? do you know? i don't, personally. but there is someone along the line whose job it is to know, and i appreciate the work they (probably aren't paid enough to) do so that i can grab a coffee on my way into my own work. i have to appreciate it because i know that if the process goes wrong somewhere, i have no fucking idea what to do about the problem.

but i'm not pretending to know. i'm not applying for a job at the papermill to work for pennies instead of someone who does know the perfect chemical makeup of coffee cup cardboard because i can order a ton of coffee cups online from amazon in bulk. that's why generative ai offends me. the work that goes into creating art and writing still has to be done, because all generative ai knows how to do is steal, and it doesn't steal like an artist. artists look at the works of others and think, oh, i see how they did that, i want to try doing that, and then they can, because they learned how to appreciate the process. they've actually worked, and practiced, and spent time engaging with the process step by step to create something they find pleasing. generative ai looks at art and spits out a copy by comparing one image to another and assuming based on Uncredited Data that sometimes, pictures have hands in them, and hands sort of look like this. and the computer doesn't have a goddamn clue how many fingers the hand has, or how to translate that data into a visual. you know what does? the human brain. you know what you can do instead of bemoaning that you, a high school junior, can't produce a rembrandt on your first try? you can actually try drawing something.

you can actually try to turn your ideas into a drawing. you can do research into how to make it look the way you want it to. who knows? you might actually have fun doing it. because the creative process can be fun! it isn't for everyone, but unless you actually sit down and try, you won't find out, and if it's not for you, you'll never grasp on that physical experiential level that the creative process is actually a lot of fucking work, and we should respect artists for being able to sit down and do it so we don't have to, same as we respect the farmers who grow our food or the plant workers who mix the slurry that becomes our coffee cup cardboard.

i'm not scared of spotify for pushing ai bullshit down my throat. more than anything, i'm kind of offended, because i do put a lot of work into my playlists, and i have a lot of fun doing it, because i like listening to music and analyzing lyrics and relating the themes of songs to my little characters. i took it so personally because i Want to be involved in the process. i'm paying spotify a lot of my real adult money to have access to music and the tools i can use to entertain this pastime of mine, and it's kind of fucked up that they're raising their monthly fee to fund a tool that makes me, the user of their product, motivated to use their product less. insulting, even. why should i pay more for a computer to do a worse job than me at Having Fun? making a playlist isn't even that fucking hard.

i'm just tired. stuff takes work to make. it takes care and time and effort to create something from nothing, and a lot of the time, the process is necessary to make the thing good, because it forces you to take the time you need to spot and fix mistakes. i hope by now that it's self-explanatory why i don't want an entire society run by a dipshit program that doesn't know how to do what it's doing and doesn't know how to solve the problems it creates faster than human hands could ever manage, and i hope the dipshit machine and the grifters who push it are inextricable from each other in the minds of anyone who's read this whole post. i don't want them to run society either, because they Know that generative ai sucks and can't do anything right, and they're still trying to tack it on to everything to devalue the labour of artists and make a quick buck for themselves.

the best quote i've ever seen about generative ai is "why should i bother reading something nobody bothered to write".

we are a social species. alienation from labour alienates us from each other, from our communities, and makes us feel alone. when we're alone, we're vulnerable down to our core psychology, and there are a lot of people out there who know better who want to take advantage of vulnerable people to manipulate society at large. they want to make money off of your suffering. they want to reduce you to a number for their own convenience so they can use the One Life You Have On Earth to play their own personal tycoon game and get a slightly higher score. they want you to spend less time having fun, creating art, spending time with your family, thinking about what they're Doing to you, so you don't ruin their good time. i'm not scared because it's new, i'm pissed because it's the same old late capitalist shit i've already been dealing with, and i'm sick of seeing it everywhere because it stands a very real chance of turning everyone's brains to even more detached-from-reality mush than late-stage capitalism already has already.

And, on top of all of that, spotify's algorithm sucks shit already, so why on earth would i want it to make my playlists for me. the other day i saw it put zombie by the cranberries on a halloween playlist. she doesn't know dickety shit about my ideas or vibes or anything. so

no, spotify, i don't want to use ai to "turn my ideas into playlists". i already fucking do that with my brain and hands and i do it for fun. what, should i get ai to pet my cat for me? to play my silly games for me? to spend time with my beautiful wife for me? how about i rend you asunder

#loquor #seems ironic considering how i started the post but i'm really not looking to fight with anyone about this #i'm just worried for people. i'm worried for myself #long post

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