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escelia · 2 months

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New Sibling Just Dropped

Or Danny gets willingly isekai'd into the DCU and gets a twin out of it.

I know I disappeared from the face of the earth for a bit there, and there's stuff I should probably be updating, but I come baring different stuff this time :D

Just started this for fun, and I have at least one other chapter of it done, but idk how long this bout of inspiration will last, so I'm just rolling with it for now.

@flamingpudding look! i pulled a jason todd and rose from the grave!

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Danny was tired. The kind of tired you felt behind your eyes and in your bones, and weighed heavy with achievement. He was perched on the edge of a building in his ghost form looking over Amity Park with a soft smile as he watched Youngblood run through the park with human children, Cujo playfully on their heels. His galaxy cloak (which had been a coronation gift) billowed around his lap like a gas with stars twinkling inside.

It had been a few years now since he took up the Crown of Fire and became High King of the Infinite Realms, and while he had accomplished many things since then, graduating from high school wasn't something on that list. It sucked that he wouldn't get to walk across the stage with Sam and Tucker, but in the face of all he'd been able to do for both Amity and the Infinite Realms, it was worth it. They coexisted now. There was still trouble every now and then, but Danny had helped the ghosts who insisted on staying in Amity Park find a place in their city where they could thrive.

Youngblood watched over the children of the city, Box Ghost started a box recycling center, Lunch Lady started a program to get food to families that couldn't afford it, and Pointdexter started reporting bullying at the school since he was already there.

On the Realms' side, Danny shut down Walker's prison. Since it was his lair, he couldn't take it away from him completely, but it no longer housed the many ghosts the warden had considered "rule breakers." He'd given Walker a new set of rules to enforce and essentially took him under his wing as a royal soldier, kept under the close watch of Fight Knight, who'd defected from Pariah Dark so fast after his defeat that it was laughable.

He'd done something similar with Skulker, though he was a harder case to crack. Unlike Walker, who was happy as long as he had a set of rules to enforce, Skulker wanted to keep hunting. He'd been recruited forcefully by Walker and Fright Knight after they caught him on his way to fight Danny again.

All in all, everything had begun to run smoothly now. The fatigue weighing on him reminded him that it had been hard to accomplish, and continuing to lead his double life hadn't made it any less exhausting. A cold breath rushed through his chest as he felt a familiar presence slide up next to him.

"You didn't time out," Danny pointed out without looking to face the ghost beside him. Clockwork hummed in acknowledgment.

"Sometimes it's pleasant to watch time flow in person." It was Danny's turn to hum at him.

"How are you feeling?" The Ancient asked thoughtfully. The younger ghost tilted his head pensively.

"It's hard to say. I'm tired, but I'm happy. And also sad..." he paused to gather his thoughts. "I feel like I've done everything I needed to."

But not everything he wanted to do.

"Go on," Clockwork pressed. The teenager did turn his head now to make a face at his mentor. If the guy knew how he felt and what he was going to say, why would he say it out loud? But the other just arched a brow at him and waited.

"Fine," he pouted. "I've spent so much time and energy finding places for everyone here. The GIW are gone, my parents stopped hunting ghosts, Jazz got into the psychology program at Stanford, Sam and Tucker are graduating today... I helped make that happen, I know I did! But they're moving on without me. They're growing up and I don't feel like I am."

'I don't feel like I'm ready.'

Danny stopped to take a breath and wipe away the icy tears gathering in his eyes. He felt stupid for crying over it. He was 17 for Ancients' sake! Jazz would have told him he grew up too fast, but he still felt like a child. He had no idea what he was doing! And yet! And yet... he felt...

"But you also feel ancient, right? Like you've been around too long and seen too much?" Clockwork said as though he were reading from a script. Danny sulked. Stupid time ghost with his dumb Time Stream TV or whatever.

"Yeah..."

"All Ancients feel that way. Though you may be feeling unbalanced in more ways than one because of how young you died and the fact you are half human."

"What do you mean?" Danny turned his whole body to face him now, tucking his knees under his chin and circling his arms around them. His cloak moved with him in inky black wisps and settled around him again like clouds of galaxies.

Clockworks form shifted to that of a child.

"You feel young because you died young. However, it is the nature of humans to grow and change. While you may have died at 14, your childhood died before that. You yearn to grow and learn, while also being an incredibly powerful Ancient."

He supposed that made sense. He recalled all the years cleaning the lab before the portal had even been built, and the fighting and neglect (Jazz's words, not his) that spawned his disdain of Christmas even longer before. He wanted to go back to school. He wanted a reason to love Christmas. He wanted pets and family dinners that didn't come alive. He wanted to grow up properly.

"But you still want to help people," the ghost said as though Danny had been talking out loud or having his mind read.

"I hate it when you do that," Danny complained. Clockwork just smiled smugly.

"I know." He laughed at the glare Danny threw him.

"I have a proposition for you," the older ghost began. Danny perked up in intrigue. "I know of another earth dimension with some problems that need to be addressed. Your role as High King puts you in a position to be helpful."

"Their problem has to do with the Realms?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Ectoplasm from the Realms is pooling into what are referred to on their planet as Lazarus Pits. They are both helpful and harmful as they do not dissipate into the air so they continually collect and concentrate emotion, but they do sometimes revive the dead."

Danny grimaced in disgust at the thought of dunking a person into a stagnant pool of contaminated ectoplasm. "That sounds disgusting."

"Quite," Clockwork agreed.

"So what's your proposition?"

"Well, if it is agreeable to you, I would like to de-age your physical form and place you with a family that's had dealings with the Pits firsthand. I've found them to be quite charming."

"Ah, so you want me to go in undercover?" Danny couldn't help but roll his eyes a little. It wasn't a half bad idea. He could try his hand at childhood again and still get to handle his duties as King Phantom. Leading a double life again would be easy enough, it was just stepping from one role into another.

"Not at all." Clockwork smiled knowingly. Danny was officially suspicious of his ghost guardian. "This planet has had all kinds of dealings with the occult, and even humans with superpowers isn't that unusual. While I would advise against telling anyone you are a king right away, you are in fact just that: a king. You may do what you wish."

For an ancient and wise time ghost, Danny thought Clockwork was really shit at hiding his expressions. Though he tried to keep the grin off his face, Danny could clearly see the twitching of his lips and gleam in his eyes that promised the old man was scheming.

But to get his childhood back. Or, at least a semblance of one... it deserved consideration. Danny looked back out at the cityscape again. Sam and Tucker... they were down there graduating from high school without him. He'd been the one to encourage them to pull away from Team Phantom activities to zero in on their studies, but he didn't regret it. Sam wanted to major in environmental science and Tucker wanted to go to MIT and he just didn't fit into those plans. After Jazz left for Stanford, his parents often forgot he was still there. He'd managed to convince them to study ghosts properly instead of hunting them, and with a little help from the "friendly ghost King Phantom" they were given a place to start. They dove into their research with the same excitement and fervor they'd had all their lives. Which of course meant he went days, sometimes weeks, without seeing them emerge from the lab. It was easy enough to slip past them to the portal while they were distracted.

The point was that he'd started to feel his anchor to this city, to this realm, start to dissipate as the people who kept him there started to break away from him. He still loved them, wanted to protect them, but they were safe and happy now. He felt fulfilled in his task of protecting them, but there was a buzzing beneath his skin to do more.

Danny took a deep and controlled breath. He didn't need it in his ghost form, but it felt good to feel his lungs stretch to fullness.

"When would I start?" He asked finally. The straight face Clockwork had been trying to keep, and he really was so bad at it, finally broke into a wide grin.

"Right now. Everything is already in place and your duties in the Realms will be taken care of in your absence."

Danny smiled softly at his guardian. Clockwork sure had a funny way of showing it, but he cared so deeply for the boy next to him that when Danny responded with a bad pun, he couldn't even be annoyed.

"Well, no time like the present!" He winked.

Clockwork chuckled, and with a flash of light, he sent Danny on his way.

The more time the older ghost spent with his young ward, the more he appreciated him. The Danny he’d come to know was nothing like the Danny’s from other worlds he’d encountered while trying to prevent Dan from existing. His Danny was now truly one of a kind. None of the others, not even the ones that eventually turned into Dan, had been Ancients. There would never be another Danny like him, and every universe was adjusting to include him should he ever decide to visit them. He had a place in any world, should he choose, but Clockwork knew he was needed most in the one he’d sent him to. It would be truly entertaining to watch the young Ancient settle into his role there, and Clockwork was actually finding himself looking forward to it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was dark and quiet a long while before Danny opened his eyes. And when he did open them it got really loud and really bright really fast. It belatedly occurred to him that he should have asked like a billion more questions before agreeing to be iseaki’d into a different dimension to join a family he knew literally nothing about.

There was shouting before someone in what looked like a ninja cult uniform shoved a knife into his hand and pushed him in the path of a person in a different uniform. The man in front of him was dressed in blue and black and wearing a mask that covered his eyes, but Danny could see the surprised shape of his mouth before it morphed into something like anger. And then he was being lunged at.

He shrieked as he dodged out of the way. Not his most graceful save, but whatever. His voice was a bit shrill and his center of gravity felt way off. He must have actually been de-aged! He wondered how old he was now. He still felt light on his feet thanks to his ghost half which felt blessedly intact. But the other guy was fast and he ducked into a roll just in time to dodge whatever weapon he was holding. This guy meant business, but he had no idea why he was trying to kill him.

‘Great, thanks Grandfather Clock for throwing me right back into the good ol’ days,’ he thought sarcastically. Nobody had attacked him for no good reason like that since Walker and Fright caught Skulker mid hunt for the very last time.

What he now saw was a baton swung down from overhead and Danny knew he wouldn't dodge it in time, so he caught it with the flat of the blade that had been shoved into his hands.

“Wait! Why are we fighting?” Danny yelled, panicked as the guy pushed more force into it. The man's face twisted into something like confusion for a moment and he backed off just the tiniest bit before the scuffing of shoes to his right had him looking over just in time to see another guy in a mask, this time in red, rushing at him. He threw his hands up in surrender.

“Wait!” He shrieked before he was absolutely bodied sideways into the ground.

Why was he doing this? He was half ghost, he could have just gone intangible and disappeared. He didn't have to be body slammed into the ground. Wasn't he a child now? Did that guy in red actually just slam a whole child into the ground?

“Red, hold on! This one's different!”

“What do you mean?” The guy Red asked. He was still pinning Danny to the ground.

“Yeah, what do you mean?” Danny asked breathlessly, then whimpered, “Someone please tell me what's going on!”

The one hovering over him must have seen something on his face that convinced him to not try and kill him anymore, because he grabbed him by the collar and started dragging him along.

“We'll take him in for questioning. Don't let Robin see him.”

“Who's Robin?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a long, arduous, and confusing journey from wherever they were to… well, wherever they were now. They'd blindfolded him for the transport so he still had no idea what was going on. He had learned that the guy with batons was Nightwing, and Red was actually Red Robin. The one they called Robin was a feral looking thing with swords, he was very small and stabby. Then there was Batman, and he totally threw off the whole bird theme but was easily the most intimidating. And that was all he knew so far. He'd been restrained at an interrogation table.

Danny groaned and knocked his forehead onto the table. He really, really wished he'd asked Clockwork more questions. He'd at least been able to catch a glimpse of himself in the glass behind Batman. He looked like he was eleven or twelve again, which was not as young as he'd been expecting, but much more preferable than being a literal toddler. The group of people he’d been brought in by seemed to be heroes. They were all incredibly weary of him, but hadn’t gone out of their way to harm him since his capture. Though it was hard to call it a capture when there wasn’t a chase involved.

“How old are you?” Batman asked suddenly. His voice was low and rough and somehow Danny could tell it didn't sound like that naturally.

“Um, maybe eleven or twelve?” Danny replied carefully, picking up his head from the table and having the decency to look a little embarrassed.

“And what's your name?” He looked like he was expecting something.

“My name is Danny, sir.”

“Hmm…”

It was quiet and awkward for a long moment.

“Why are you different from the other clones?”

“Yeeeaaah, I'm not a clone.” Danny absolutely did not jump when the brute slammed the file folder shut in front of him.

“We'll see what your DNA results have to say about that,” he said confidently before turning to leave, his cape dramatically flaring out behind him.

Sheesh, and he thought he’d had a flair for the dramatics.

‘Okay, time for some assessment,’ Danny thought to himself as he looked around the small closed room. It was soundproofed incredibly well. While he didn’t have super crazy hearing, it was enhanced by his ghost half, and combined with his other sharp senses, it tended to help him gather more information than others could. The most he could hear outside the room was a quiet hum of activity and nothing discernible. Still, he needed to decide how much he would say to these people. How much truth did he want to weave into his tale? These people clearly already had their own assumptions about him in mind, and while there was absolutely nothing wrong with being a clone, he knew he didn’t have what it took to keep up an act like that for long, which would just end up being awkward for everyone.

He also would not be telling them about his status as Ghost King, per Clockwork’s suggestion. His captors seemed like the uptight sort, and revealing that he was a big, scary ghost monarch didn’t seem like it’d go over well. Telling them he was a halfa would probably get them off his back over the clone thing, at least. He went over the list in his head.

He was a halfa from another dimension, so he couldn’t be a clone.

He had no plans of fighting with anyone unless absolutely necessary.

He did not have a way back to his other dimension.

His name was Danny, and he didn’t have a family anymore.

He did not know why he was in the middle of whatever fight he woke up in.

No, he didn’t know those people.

Danny must’ve been lost in thought for quite a while because his thoughts were interrupted by Batman bursting back through the door. The man’s demeanor had changed completely and he whipped off his cowl to reveal disheveled dark hair, blue eyes, and an expression of absolute heartbreak that accompanied his shuddering breaths. With the mask off, he reminded Danny a lot of his father.

Batman searched his face and, much like Red Robin had before, seemed to notice something there.

“She did it twice,” he muttered to himself. “Two of them this whole time and she didn’t tell me about either of them,” he said through gritted teeth. His frown deepened. Danny copied his frown.

“Hey, are you okay?”

He still had no idea what was going on.

#dcxdp #danny phantom #batman #danny fenton #fanfiction #damian wayne #batfam #just having fun with all the tropes #danny and damian are twins #except they're also kinda not #danny just wants to be a kid again #clockwork is scheming again #not even damian is safe from it #danny wanted something to do and clockwork dropped him and and said “go fix this”#also this is like barely edited

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luveline · 3 months

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also didn’t realise that amanda was their little baby but here’s an idea if ur up for it. amanda inherits like spencer’s smartness i guess and so when she starts spewing facts about the random-est stuff spencer’s overjoyed and then bombshells just staring at them with adoration in her eyes?? idk something really fluffy

“Shoes?” Amanda asks.

“Yeah, babe.”

“No thanks.”

You hold Amanda’s socked feet in your hands. “You need shoes to keep your feet warm.”

“I’ll have socks.”

You look past her tiny face to her father for some assistance. Spencer scratches his neck, looking absolutely exhausted, though he’s dressed sharply. You’d spent a few minutes finger curling his hair this morning before it dried, and he’s brushed them out gently, giving him a windblown look. You pretend to take a photo of him. He rolls his eyes.

“Amy,” he says lovingly, baby-voice in play as he leans over the back of the couch, “you know why you have to wear shoes?”

“Why?”

“Because growing up, your feet are very small, and very fragile. They need time to grow in proper structures, and they can’t do that if you don’t wear shoes when you’re walking a lot.” He gives her shoulder a rub. “Don’t you wanna match me and mommy?”

“You wear shoes… different. Mom has heels,” she insists.

“What if I wear flats?” you ask, eager to leave the house before afternoon.

She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a Spencer style pout.

Spencer sits down next to her with a sigh. You’re both aware of how smart she is for her age, and while it can be interesting, it’s also made some stuff so, so hard. Like explaining shoes. “I’m not want to wear them. It’s good for my skin to breathe.” All her r’s sound soft, like w’s.

You rub your eyes. Spencer sucks in an excited breath. “Yes! Skin can’t really breathe, but it’s good to have it uncovered sometimes to help your circulation and your pores.”

“‘Xactly,” Amy says.

“And, you know, shoes that don’t fit right force your feet into narrow positions, which can cause a whole bunch of problems.”

“No shoes,” Amy says.

“But…” Spencer backtracks, thumbing under her eyelashes gently. “If you don’t wear your shoes, we can’t go out to the store for groceries and we can’t go to the bakery on the way home. Which means you won’t get your sugar donuts, mommy won’t get her slice of cake, and that’s gonna make me so sad.”

“Why?”

“Because I love when your mom is happy. It makes me happy when she’s happy. She doesn’t look very happy now, does she?”

In all honesty, you’re much too pretty to be sitting on the floor, tights to the carpeting and your cute black dress bunching up your thighs. You refuse to close yourself into the ‘mom’ box some may expect of you, dressing as you had before you became a mom, but you’ve allowed Amanda the opportunity to choose your necklace; a gold pendant ring with green and pink sapphires. It’s gorgeous, colourful, and doesn’t even slightly go with your outfit. Spencer reaches for it now, tugging it straight carefully against your neck.

You frown deeply, pulling your widest, softest doe eyes. “Please, lovely girl, put your shoes on. Or I’m gonna have to be strict, and I hate being strict.”

“Don’t fw-own, mommy,” she says, listing into Spencer’s side, “you’ll get wrinkles. Worse wrinkles, ‘cos your muscles remember.”

And again, all her r’s are w’s, her pronunciation lispy and sweet despite her amazing expertise. Spencer laughs and takes her face into two hands, kissing “Wow, smarty pants,” into her crown. “You’re so smart! I can’t believe it!”

You feel your annoyance softening. Fine, she’s a smarty pants, and you secretly love it so so much. You’ll just have to carry her to the car. Or her genius dad can carry her. Actually, that could be great, Spencer’s never looked so handsome as he does carrying around your little baby, especially now he’s started working out every now and then.

“Better role your sleeves up, Spence,” you say, standing up off of your knees. “I’m keeping my heels on. Daddy’s gonna carry you, and you’re gonna get wonky feet.”

“That’s fine,” Spencer says to her in a whisper, “I’ll carry you forever if you want me to, even if you do get all wonky, bubby.”

Amy preens as she wraps her arms around him and he picks her up. He takes her shoes from your hand without her seeing.

“Isn’t she amazing?” he mouths, and he means it, his eyes wide with it.

“She’s gonna protest socks, next, Spencer Reid, and then what are you gonna do?” you ask. You aren’t half as concerned as you’re pretending to be. Amy’s a baby. She’ll learn how important shoes are soon enough.

“I’m gonna hold her in my coat, like this,” he says, pulling his coat over her legs.

“Like that,” you say to yourself, grinning. “Okay, you two do what you want. Can we go now? We really need to get some groceries.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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lvlyghost · 9 months

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Hello do you take requests cause I had this idea in my mind but I suck in writing

how bout a ghost x reader where he had a bad day and takes it out on his beloved reader who he's been in a really long relationship with, by starting an argument and maybe saying some really mean and bad things that break the reader. Like the reader is only a shell of herself and completely ruined by ghosts words and just crying or sitting completely still staring off the wall or just staring at nothing just being numb.

What would be interesting is Simons reaction when he realizes the damage that he's done, maybe he would cry/break down idk when he sees the usually happy reader being so dull and almost lifeless yk

But Pleasee don't do this to our hearts and write some comfort and a happy ending please I couldn't handle too much angst❤️😭

The Weight of the World

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: You promised to always lean on each other but sometimes love isn't enough.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

TW: heavy angst, literally got some mid anxiety writing this🥴 swearing, self-doubt, hurt-comfort and slight fluff towards the end. lmk if i missed any.

A/N: finished this in one sitting lol, also not proofread and poorly edited, i've been having a shitty week so expect more angst lol. meet me in therapy. Enjoy anon!🤍🌟🫶🏻💕

Masterlist✨

You hesitate right outside Simon's studio, the place where he secludes himself from everything and everyone. Ever since he came from his last mission he seemed to be on the edge constantly. The usual softness that he reserved specifically for you was... absent.

Still you wouldn't let that stop you from approaching; having dating him for a few years now let you know so much of that. You knew when he was hurting. When he was sad, angry, jealous or even happy. Little to no people could say that.

Somehow this was different. He wasn't even letting you in, constantly keeping you at arms length and that hurt. How were you supposed to get to him this time? Get him to talk to you?

To look at you again with that same glint in his eyes, the spark that you ignited in him and that won't fade away even years after.

The sound of a chair creaking startles you, the same time the timer in the kitchen goes off. You walk back, turning the oven off, and sticking out the apple pie you so happily baked for both with hopes that you'll get him loosen a bit that dark cloud that's been looming over Simon these past few days.

The door of his studio is yanked open the heavy stomp of his boots resonating across the small apartment you two share, then his bulky frame appears just to grab the keys to his black motorcycle.

"Simon!" You call him, burning your hand in the process. He stills halfway through the living room, waiting for you to say something else. Wetting a cloth hurriedly and wrapping it around the burnt skin.

"I made something for us... maybe," standing behind him you leave a reasonable space between the two. You swallow down hard. "Thought we could have it together and just, you know spend...-"

"I don't have time for that now." His voice is cold and monotone. "Don't wait for me."

"But Si-" he turns on his heels, eyes hard and unyielding. He approaches slowly, making you gulp. "What's gotten into you, Simon?" You fight back the tears, this was the man you loved so dearly, the man you knew loved you back; there was a reason for the golden engagement ring on your left hand. "I..-"

"Fucking hell would you stop that? Please just..." he notices the wetness in your eyes. "I can't do this. Not anymore."

"Whatever it is I promise we can work it out together!" your lips quivered. "Just talk to me!"

"I don't need to talk about anything girl!" He seethes, one finger pointing at you. "Think some cheap counseling with you will make things right? Bloody hell no. Neither some homemade bread, this isn't fucking working and it won't until you learn how the bloody world works."

It breaks your heart into a tiny million pieces, breathing becomes a challenge and the injury in your hand can no longer be felt. Simon's words were worse than any physical pain. Where was the man you loved? The man who used to lift you up and kiss you on the forehead? The man whose hands couldn't stop roaming your body late at night? The man who'd helped you reach out for things he probably put away in the highest shelf so you'd ask for help. That same man that had proposed to you no long ago, right before he was deployed to a special op God knows where. The fabric of his mask moves when he keeps talking but you don't listen. You can't. Just like you can't stop the tears dribbling down your cheeks and the tremble of your hands. Simon's jaw clenched, brows furrowed as he takes a step back and leaves.

You walk sluggishly to where the dessert awaits. It's when your knees buckle that you finally let out a loud cry.

Simon knows he isn't a good man. He's done quite questionable things that he could never say out loud. He knows he's fucked in so many ways. But he also knows that there's one thing that kept him from spiraling further down into an abyss of death and self-loathing.

You.

The woman he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The girl that didn't care about his past, the bad moments and his complicated persona. You who would selflessly love him without asking for something in return. What had you seen in him in first place? Even now after three years he can't wrap his head around the fact that he has someone who waits for him.

Simon knows how much he loves you, but what he doesn't know is how—or in what earth—he deserves every part of you.

You've been avoiding him ever since that horrible night. Words he can't take back. Looks that haunt him every time he closed his eyes. He hears you cry when you go to sleep or when you're taking a shower. Muffled sobs and wails that will come for him until the day he dies.

You avoid him like a plague, when he walks in. After all he's the one to blame. He wanted to ask you to tear him apart maybe that'd feel less painful.

The last remaining of sanity that was left in him came crashing down when he began to notice how you stared off in a haze, numbly looking at the window. He was losing you. Destroyed the one good thing he had. So, a few days later, despite his own demons. Despite the things that broke him all irreparably during the last mission in Moscow, he comes to find you. Sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes set on your left hand.

The engagement ring was gone, forgotten someplace unknown. Simon felt the panic wrenching his guts.

It's all on him.

He whispers your name, calls you softly. Slowly sitting in front of you, the coffee table creaks under his weight. Words get caught in his throat.

"May I take your hand?" He pleads, not getting an answer. Simon sighs, lowering his head as silent reigns yet again. "I don't deserve you." He murmurs, eyes bored into the floor. "I... I ruin everything I touch. Just never thought I'd ruin my girl."

Your eyes flutter shut, wet tears clinging to your eyelashes. Simon watches as you stand and leave without a word, he follows close behind to your shared room.

"Love..."

"Don't call me that!" the hurt in your voice... the resentment in your eyes, he's earned it.

Simon reaches out for your arm, grabbing you firmly but gently, mindful not to harm you.

"Right I deserve that." If there's one thing Simon regrets it's being the reason that your eyes no longer shine. "What I said... what happened I...-"

Shaking your head and biting down your lip.

"You never gave me the chance, I thought we said we'd always find a way."

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry baby." in an instant he's pulling you close, although you want to push him away, scream at him, slap him for the calvary he made you go through. "I'm not good with words, and I'm no good person." You feel his body shaking with anxiety as your eyes widen in shock. "I tried... I can't forgive myself for my mistakes."

"Simon..." he hushed you, cradling your head with his big hand. "I can't sleep knowing I can't protect you from what's out there, couldn't bloody protect that kid in Moscow, or my family."

You guide him to the bed, sitting down side by side and holding onto each other.

"Said I would always be with you Simon, why the hell did you push me away?! Have I not given my everything to you? We promised to always make it work!" He grabs your face staring intently into your eyes. "What happened there?"

He blinks, deciding how much to say. There was no need for you to know the entirety of it. He wanted to shield you from the horrors of this world, and he would as long as he lived.

"A young lad whose life's was cut short because I wasn't there on time. How can I come back to you, be happy when someone else just lost their kid..."

"That wasn't on you! Simon Riley you stop that now." He inhales, cinnamon and vanilla flooding his senses. It's you all of you. "Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. We do that together, yeah?" Your chest hurts from how hard it's beating. "You've done far so much. You won't lose me."

A rumble in the sky and cars passing by outside your home is all you hear. Brown eyes like honey stare back into your soul.

"You took it off..."

"I burnt my hand, it wasn't healing properly. And you know what?" He quirks a brow. "It wasn't homemade bread. It was an apple pie, you silly."

"You'll never forgive me for that one won't you?" He doesn't chuckle but the air feels lighter.

"No. Probably won't." Simon takes your burnt hand bringing it to his lips, they're soft against the marred skin.

"But we're still getting married, yeah?" He asks.

You smile fondly, humming when he kisses your forehead, tears have now dried.

"Yeah. We're still getting married."

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jjwantsme · 1 year

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the happiest girl in the world

- v.h

pairing: vinnie hacker x grumpy!girlfriend!reader

summary: in which you think he finally became fed up of you

Warnings: angst, sad vinnie, absolute fluff, pet names, crying, mentions of trauma, reader grew up in foster care

authors note: yall this is my first time posting on tumblr so please be kind😭😭 although constructive criticism is very much appreciated

masterlist

Much to your parents disbelief, you weren’t a complete idiot. You knew how to read body language and tone, knew how to tell if you weren’t wanted at the moment. You just never expected it from your own boyfriend.

Okay, let's admit, that's a little dramatic. Streaming on twitch is part of his job, it shouldn't be surprising, or insulting, when he takes multiple hours devoting his time to it; yet, sometimes it feels like the most invalidating thing in the world. It was becoming his excuse for everything, every date he missed or quality time he randomly walked out on. To be fair, you weren't exactly a little ray of sunshine. Your personality was definitely more on the brutal side- which wasn't your fault! Having trauma at the age of a toddler, growing up in foster care...it's no surprise that you're a little rough around the edges.

Most people didn't know how to handle it. They'd get flustered with your short temper, get angered at your rude comments, or even yell at you when you have trouble feeling emotions. Nobody even gave you a chance.

Vinnie changed that, though.

He was patient with you, and never tried to abandon you even when you asked him to. He understood why you act the way you do, and even helped you cope with it. He helped you become happy. For the first time in your goddamn life, you were happy. And now it’s all crashing down, because you fucked it up.

You don’t know how, when, or why- but you fucked it up. Why else would he be distant?

Vinnie was never the type to be distant. He’s always been clingy- emotionally and physically. He always had to have his hand in yours, or an arm around your shoulders. He always felt the need to verbally show you his affection, and expected the same in return. You, on the other hand, completely opposite- but that’s exactly why you two worked so well. You were contrasted to perfection, you balanced each other out in the best way, and kept each other seen.

So, then, why does it suddenly feel like you’re being avoided?

You sighed as all these thoughts pounded in your head, laying in vinnie’s bed as he was streaming in just the other room.

Or, you thought he was streaming, until he walked in his room to get a bottled water, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at his phone.

Your mouth moved faster than your brain as you sat up, “vin?”

His eyes widened a little as they snapped to look at you, a little startled by the sound of your voice, “yea?”

“Can we talk?”

That was the sentence vinnie had been dreading for days now. his avoidance finally caught up to him. He could have just lied and said he was busy, but it’s too hard to neglect a voice as sweet as yours. “Of course, my love.” He sighed quietly before stepping towards the king-sized bed, sitting across from you so he could see your face.

“I, uh…i don’t really know how to say this,” you sucked in a breath as you tried to remember how to express your emotions.

Vinnie looked away from your eyes and played with his fingers. He knew this day would come, regardless of him praying that it wouldn’t.

“Are you breaking up with me?” The two of them asked at the same time, making their eyes pop out of their heads.

“You’re breaking up with me?!” Vinnie exclaimed, looking into her eyes again in a moment of panic. “No, you shithead, i thought you were breaking up with me!”

“Why would i be breaking up with you?!”

“Because you’re avoiding me!”

“I was avoiding you because i thought you were gonna break up with me!”

“Huh?” Your voice lowered as your frown deepened, realizing how miscommunicated their relationship has become.

“Yeah…” vinnie’s face went red as he realized he had no choice but to confront the growing tension, “lately you seemed a little more annoyed than usual. I tried to tell myself it was probably because of Uni, or something that didn’t involve us, but…it quickly became clear that i’m what’s wrong. I always knew i wasn’t enough for you, but i guess it just hurts to finally be acting on it.”

His words broke your heart.

This whole time, you were overthinking his annoyance of you, thinking that he was fed up. When, in reality, he was thinking the same thing all along.

“Baby,” you placed your cold hand on his warm cheek, watching as his brown eyes sparkled with admiration, “I’m so sorry for making you think that was true, and i’m even more sorry for not knowing you felt this way. Yeah, finals have been tough this semester, but i shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m such an asshole.”

He smiled a bit, “yeah, but a really cute one.”

You let out a small laugh and shoved his shoulder lightly, making him giggle.

“Kidding, kidding. But, seriously, i think we need to work on our communication. This situation definitely wasn’t handled the right way. I hate knowing my baby thought i was leaving her.”

You blushed deeply and smiled wide, shaking your head. You hated pet names, and he knew that. Well, in complete honesty, you loved them. You just hated how happy and giddy they made you- Vincent doesn’t have to know that part, though.

Vinnie leaned in and pecked your lips before mumbling, “i love you, so much more than you can imagine.”

“I may be an asshole, but you make me the happiest girl in the world. I love you too, vin.”

And you sealed that promise with a kiss, a kiss that lasted until the sunrise of the next morning.

#vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker #vinnie #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie imagines #vhackerr #vinnie hacker x reader #vinniehacker #vinnie fanfic #vinnie x y/n #im new hi

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gretavanmoon · 3 months

Text

G13

Spinning Now: "Finish What Ya Started" by Van Halen (1988)

Pairing: Josh x Female Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Description: You and Josh, your favorite new co worker, decide to share more than drinks as what started as a normal night turns into something you never expected.

Warnings: Smoking, Drinking, Cursing, Drug Use, Heavy Flirting, Praise, Dirty Talk, Touching, Mention of Breakups and Heartbreak, Sadness. Smut: Kissing, Oral M!receiving

New town, new job, new life.

That’s always how things went in the movies, and every time, the girl always got her happy ending.

How hard can it be, right?

After you’d managed to knock the first new off your list when you moved out of your ex’s house and to the next city over, the “job” part was next in line. After a week of filling out applications, you finally landed on the perfect selection, a serving job at Angelo’s Pizza.

You’d started this new job about about three months ago, and you finally felt like you were getting your footing with the flow of things. You’d been a server for as long as you could remember, but getting used to a new restaurant with new people and new menus and management could sometimes prove to be difficult. You were handling it with as much grace as you could, and the money was killer, so you stuck it out.

“You coming to the bar with me tonight?” your new favorite coworker, Josh asked as he stared into the kitchen from the expo window, rolling a pile of coasters across the countertop.

“Mmmh…” You mumbled under your breath. “I dunno, I’ve been here since lunch and my feet are absolutely killing me.”

”Ugh don’t be such a prude, Y/N.” He responded, taking a pepperoni and cheese in one hand, and a supreme in the other. “We’ll be sitting down the whole time. Ya know. In barstools.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You teased, elbowing him in the ribs. “I guess so, but I can’t stay out late like last weekend. I open tomorrow.”

“Oooo, a clopen. That sucks. Well, I don’t. So I can get drunk, and you can watch me.” He flashed you a giant smile before taking off with the pizzas in hand, disappearing into the sea of people seated in the restaurant.

Josh had befriended you on your very first day, comforting you after your manager harshly scolded you for ringing something in incorrectly.

“Don’t worry about it.” He’d said as you pouted in the walk-in. “I still fuck my shit up all the time. The cooks don’t really care, plus if you mess somethin’ up, we get to eat the fucked up pizza.” That was the only thing he said to you the entire day, but it really stuck with you, immediately making you feel a lot better about your tiny mistake.

Now, after a few months of working side by side with Josh, you’d actually gotten to know each other fairly well, and you’d even go as far as calling him one of your good friends. You’d managed to get to know all your coworkers on a surface level, but Josh actually took the time to listen to you when you spoke, and showed real interest in the things you had to say, no matter how menial.

He was cute, and around the same age as you, but there was something about Josh that you couldn’t put your finger on. It was something that struck you, making him stand out from the rest of the guys you worked with. His aura pulled you in, and the way his eyes sparkled in the neon that covered the walls of the restaurant didn’t help the fact that he sometimes made your heart skip a beat. You decided that it was just his looks, though, catching you off guard every once in a while as you were around him more. Most importantly, he made you feel welcome. Like a good friend should.

The more you got to know Josh, the more open he became with you, and you quickly learned that his real personality outside of work was a little bit different than when you were on the clock. It’d become almost a habit, now, joining Josh at his favorite dive bar down the street when you’d both end up on the same closing schedule. It was like Groundhog Day, Josh would ask you to come out, you’d find an excuse to turn him down, but you always left Angelo’s with your hand in his as you tiredly dragged yourselves down the street. Sometimes other coworkers would join you, but it was always the two of you left shutting the bar down, joking and laughing with one another as you waited for your Ubers.

Josh was quickly becoming a norm for you. A fun, platonic norm. And though you were both flirty with one another, it never felt as though it would go past anything but that. Just friends. And you were very content with that.

So tonight, as things wound down and the patrons closed out their tabs, you felt as if you really could use a nightcap or two to reward yourself for not making even one mistake on your orders today.

As you tied the oversized trash bag closed, you met eyes with Josh as he skillfully swiped the mop across the sticky, sauce-covered floor.

He grinned when he saw you looking, making your stomach drop. “What?” He asked, biting his lower lip in as he staved off a full-on smile.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how you roped me into going out again tonight.” You said with faux aggravation.

Josh sucked in his teeth as he plopped the mop back into the big yellow bucket, rolling it over to where you stood. “Actually, I asked you out with me tonight for another reason. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was gonna get absolutely shit hammered, tonight.” His tone was serious rather than silly, and you instantly felt like something was wrong.

“What’s the other reason?” You pressed, lifting the bag from the can. “Everything okay?”

He shook his head and swallowed, opening the double doors to the kitchen to go and dump his bucket. You followed closely behind him with your trash.

“Eh, not really. I’ll tell you all about it when we get there. Let’s lock this bitch up.” He flashed his eyes to the floor as he spoke, which was unlike him. He always spoke with such confidence and effortless ease.

The two of you finished up your closing tasks and said goodnight to the line cooks, grabbing up your things from your lockers and stuffing your aprons back inside. Josh was quiet the whole time, again striking you as out of the ordinary. You hadn’t known Josh long, but you did know him well enough to know that something was off, and he wasn’t handling it well.

“Think I’m going straight for liquor tonight.” He said as you walked arm in arm down the crowded sidewalk to the bar. He tilted his head back, blowing a puff of air above you, watching as the cold air turned it into steam.

“Damn.” You answered. “You must really be going through it, friend.” It was also unlike Josh to drink liquor; each time you were around him, he’d always chosen draft beer.

You both stepped inside the dimly-lit dive bar, letting the heat warm your chilly bones from the cold autumn air. You both took up camp on two stools at the end of the bar, closest to the back wall. The bartender Roy approached you, throwing down two bar napkins in front of you as you got comfortable in your seats.

“Evenin’, guys. Sex on the Beach andddd, Josh, we’ve got a Kolsch and a pale ale on tap, and also a—“

“Jack Daniel’s. Neat, please.” Josh interrupted Roy, causing him to contort his face with surprise.

“Been waiting on you almost five years and never known you to drink liquor. But, alright…” Roy responded as he left for a minute, returning and placing your drinks in front of you. “I’ll keep the tab goin’.”

It was silent between the two of you for the first couple of minutes, both of you sipping your drinks as you relaxed your muscles from the long workday. Finally, you decided you would have to be the one to speak first, for once.

“Okay, spill. What’s got you on the hard stuff tonight?” You asked, turning to face Josh in your stool.

He leaned on his elbow, his tight black t-shirt squeezing his toned arm just right. “I got dumped last night.”

You felt your eyebrows jump to your forehead. “What?! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Josh…I didn’t even know you had a—“

“Nah, it’s okay. I could kinda tell shit was going sideways, anyway, ya know? Almost expected it. But, still doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He disconnected his eye contact, tilting his glass back all the way and finishing off the last bit of his whiskey.

You were almost stunned speechless. You hadn’t seen Josh show any emotion that even came close to sadness before, and you struggled with how you were going to react.

Roy brought the bottle of Jack over, filling Josh’s glass with another two fingers.

“How long were you together?” You asked, tiptoeing with caution, given that he might not want to go into much detail.

“Four and a half years.” He said blankly.

“My god, are you serious?!” You choked out with disbelief.

He nodded hard as he kept his eyes trained on the bar in front of you, spinning his stool in tiny tight circles. “Yeah. Long time.” He sipped his drink again.

“I really am sorry, Josh. That’s a long time to be with someone for it to just...” You placed a hand on his arm as you spoke.

He crossed his arms in front of him. “Yeah, it’s fucked.” He growled, leaning back in his stool.

“You wanna talk about it?” You asked.

“No, that’s why we’re here.” He slammed his hands on the bar top, motioning for Roy to refill your already almost empty cocktail.

Roy brought your new drink over, stirring the drink with the tiny straw for you. Josh lifted his glass into the air, forcefully clinking it against yours. “To moving on!” He said, finishing the drink off once again.

——

An hour or so later, you and Josh had managed to find yourselves significantly intoxicated once again, engaged in a deep passionate debate.

“Ever since they banned smoking indoors, the American bar scene has been fucked!” Josh drunkenly yelled overtop of the loud music and large crowd that had joined you inside the bar.

You had to laugh. “Josh, not everybody loves breathing that shit in! It makes some people really sick!” You challenged.

“Ah, hell. You come into a bar, you expect to be around smoke, all there is to it. All there is to it!” He crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders in defiance of your argument.

“You can go outside and smoke, Josh. Easy as that. Just get over it!” The two of you were glassy-eyed and giggly, feeling your liquor take hold of you as you talked. Josh brought about a warmth in you that you’d never experienced before, and you’d be lying if you said your…attraction? to him wasn’t amplified when you were drunk.

No, not attraction.

Something else…

You had no idea what to label the feeling, because you’d never felt it ever before. You took it in stride, though, embracing the completely new emotion as it came. It was almost like you craved his attention, and fed off of him engaging with you. You wanted to please him, but not in such a way that was sexual.

…You didn’t think.

No. You just craved his recognition. Wanted his eyes on you and no one else. Wanted to make him laugh, be the one who made him forget about everything else. It wasn’t a jealousy thing, it was a matter of possessiveness. You wanted to protect him like a best friend. And anyone who dared cause him unhappiness would have to deal with you.

Is this insane thinking?! Am I crazy for this? You drunkenly asked yourself as you washed your hands in the bar bathroom sink, giving yourself a disapproving look in the mirror. Probably, maybe…but he seems to feel the same about you... You had noticed that the second you’d inadvertently struck up a conversation with another guy at the bar, Josh quickly stole your attention away again, bringing up a whole new topic of conversation that had nothing to do with the last.

He charmed you. Drew you in. Challenged your thoughts and opinions…made you talk like you’d never talked before. Laugh like you’d never laughed.

“You’re really smart, Y/N. I didn’t really notice that about you, before.” Josh smiled as he leaned over toward you on the bar. His cheeks were tinted the prettiest pink from the alcohol.

“Uhh, thanks, I guess?” You chortled, feigning being offended.

“No I mean, you surprise me. Keep me guessing, every time I turn around. Never had a friend like that before. I’m usually so bored with everyone I meet. You make me like, think. Ya know?” He explained as you nodded sweetly in understanding. You knew you were blushing.

“Last call!!” You heard Roy yell across the still-crowded room. You made blurry eye contact with Josh again.

“Damn, we didddit agin.” You stammered. “Let me pay, you’ve had a hard couple’a days.”

“No no no, no you don’t. I asked you here, my treat. Plus, my drinks were fuckin’ pricey tonight.”

“But Josh, let me treat you, for once...” You jutted your bottom lip out as you begged him. You watched as his eyes landed on your lips, stealing his attention again. Suddenly, you felt excited.

“Alright, alright. But I’m leavin’ the tip.” He agreed. “I just needed some sympathy…that’s all I wanted tonight.”

“And you got it, didn’t you? You forgot all about your messy breakup?”

“For the most part, yes.” He laughed. “But I like to look at the long run, ya know? Like to take each step, one by one. Let myself live in the sadness.”

You scoffed as you signed your name on the receipt and pulled your coat on. “Psh, Josh, didn’t you just cheers me and say ‘to moving on’?”

He stood from his stool, wrapping his arm around your neck tightly. The smell of his cologne mixed with the remnants of pizza filled your senses, temporarily making you dizzy as he squeezed you in his grip.

“I did, Y/N, I did. But I’m also drunk, now. So. And also, I don’t really wanna go home yet. ‘M gonna walk you to your Uber then hit up Chauncey’s…they stay open ‘til 2.”

You turned in his grasp, your face within inches of his as he held you tightly. “Don’t go back out, Josh. No sense in drinkin’ your sorrows away by yourself.” It felt like you were outside of your own body; all you wanted was to go home and strip down and crawl into bed, but for some reason, your mouth told Josh that apparently you didn’t want to go home, either. “Come back to my place. We’ll have one more drink, and we can share the blunt that TJ gave me yesterday.”

“TJ? The linecook?” Josh seemed surprised. “You letting strangers give you drugs now, Y/N?”

“He’s hardly a stranger, Josh. Why, you jealous?” You teased, while also testing the waters of what the hell this feeling the two of you apparently shared could actually be.

“Fuck no, I’m not jealous. I’m…I…” Josh opened his mouth, but nothing came out after that. “I don’t know, I just—“ You were still tightly wrapped up in the crook of his elbow, his face so close to yours that you could smell the liquor on his breath as he struggled to speak.

You decided to save him. “It’s alright Josh. You don’t have to come over. I’ll smoke it allllll by myself…” you sneakily wrapped your arm around his back, giving it a couple playful pats.

He looked down at you through his lashes, his jaw clenched tightly together. “You really want me to come over?”

You nodded. “I do. Come on, it’ll be fun.” More than anything, you wanted him to know you were the reason he had such a good night, and the reason he was able to forget about his breakup.

“Okay, jackass. You talked me into it. Let’s go get high.” He released you from his grasp as you confirmed your Uber on your phone, and your overwhelming satisfaction of claiming his attention again propelled you out the door.

——

“Cute place. You decorate it yourself?” Josh teased as you both entered your apartment. It was only half-decorated and you hardly had any furniture, spending most of your days working and saving up money to finish furnishing it.

“Shut up, dick head!” You shoved him backwards as he laughed. “I haven’t finished making it cute yet.” You pulled the bottle of liquor from the cabinet, shaking the little bit that was left. “I know you’ve been drinking whiskey, but…vodka’s all I’ve got.”

“Ah, it’ll work.” Josh responded, plopping down on your couch. “M’already fucked with a hangover tomorrow, might as well do it up.” You caught sight of his pretty light brown curls sitting on top of his head, and you felt another rush of that strange excitement soar through you.

You made the two drinks and joined him on the couch, pulling the blunt up under your nose as you breathed in its earthy scent. Josh took the drink from your hand, raising his eyebrows as he watched you smell the rolled marijuana.

“TJ usually has good shit, I will say.” He winked, sipping his drink.

You pulled your feet up underneath you on the couch, scooting yourself closer to him. “Thought you said I shouldn’t take drugs from strangers…”

“I never said you shouldn’t, I just meant that next time you should get your weed from me.” He spoke without a care, taking the blunt from your hand and bringing it to his own nose.

“Ah, well I was unaware I could do that, Joshua.” You snatched it back from him, taking the lighter from the table in front of you and lighting the end of the blunt. You inhaled the smoke slowly, noticing that Josh hadn’t responded to you.

You glanced at him, finding the most devastating half smile on his face. You swore you felt your skin tingle.

“Did you just call me by my government name, Y/N?” He whispered, leaning his head down to you.

You exhaled the smoke you didn’t realize you were holding, nodding slowly. “Yeah, you mad about it?”

You passed him the blunt. “Nah, kinda liked the way it sounded, actually.” You watched as his lips made a perfect O around the tip of the blunt, and you found yourself wondering what kind of chapstick he used to get them to look…like that…

You felt your eyes grow heavy as your first hit found you, the THC entering your system quickly. Josh must have noticed, as he giggled at your appearance. “Told you TJ had good shit.”

“I swear to god I’m already fuckin’ high…” you laughed, taking another big hit.

“Mmm, no baby, you’re crossed. But not all the way. Yet.” Josh’s voice was gritty and buttery all at the same time. And the fact that he called you baby had you feeling that same feeling again. He calls everybody baby, though…all the girls at work…you’re not special.

The two of you sat and smoked until the blunt was a roach, and the air around you was thick with haziness. Your entire body was heavy and floaty, and you swore you could feel the blood pumping through your extremities. The conversation with Josh was so easy, so effortless, and the way the two of you held the complete attention of one another continued to astound you.

“So tell me about you. What’s your real story?” Josh asked, the both of you sitting facing one another completely, now.

You sipped your vodka drink. “What do you mean, real story?”

“I only know a little bit about you, where did you come from? What’s in your past?”

You took a deep breath. “Well, believe it or not, Josh, I kinda just got broken up with recently, too.”

“No way, you’re kidding. When? What happened?” He pressed.

“Ahh, about a month before I started at Angelo’s. I’m from about twenty miles away, up north a bit. Came here looking to start completely fresh. Still close enough to my family, if I need them. Ya know…” you trailed off. Josh’s eyes were telling you to continue.

“I got dumped, too. After a year of being with him. I thought we were serious, but apparently not. It didn’t hurt me too bad, I’m alright. Liking my new life pretty well, actually.”

Josh dramatically leaned back on the couch cushion, throwing his free hand over his face. “Ugh, god…how embarrassing. You handled bein’ dumped like a goddamned rockstar. I’m over here down in the dumps.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s okay, Josh. Four and a half years is a lot longer than one…”

“You’re right, I guess.” He sat back up, bringing his attention back to you. “So what was his reason? What was his last straw?” He asked, moving his face closer to yours. Your body was vibrating from the alcohol and the weed, and the presence of Josh sitting so close to you on your couch. You were positively buzzing.

“He uh, didn’t really give me one. Just said it was over.” You whispered, feeling your emotions flying all over the place. Josh’s hand reached up, twirling a piece of your hair between his fingers. “He also said I was a bad kisser, or something stupid.”

Josh winced at your words. “A bad kisser? I highly doubt that, Y/N…”

“And why do you doubt that?” You giggled.

“Because. I have a hard time taking my eyes off your lips, I can only imagine how hard it would be to take my lips off of them…” he smirked a little, laughing through his nose.

“You’re fuckin’ stoned.” You laughed, leaning your face onto his hand.

“And? I speak nothing but the truth, baby.”

“Mmmhm, yeah. Shut up.” You complained.

“I’m serious. I bet you really are a good kisser. That guy was just…stupid.”

“Maybe I’m a horrible kisser, how would I ever know?” You shrugged, feeling your body about to jump out of your skin simply from having this conversation with Josh.

He held his first two fingers up, motioning for you to come here. “Come on. Show me how you like to kiss.”

“What?! No, I’m not gonna do that.” You blushed, pulling away from him with shyness.

“Baby, it’s me. I’m just trying to judge your kissing skills. I’ll be completely honest with you, tell you if that guy was right or not.” Josh said, holding his hands out to the sides.

You stopped, staring at Josh through your slit eyelids, trying to figure him out. He met you with sincere eyes, and though you were both extremely intoxicated, you didn’t feel uncomfortable in the least.

“I’m serious. Just kiss me.” He said matter of factly. “S’no big deal.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the air surrounding you heavy with normalcy, but also heavy with yearning.

You slowly pulled yourself in closer to him, gently wetting your lips as your mind went back and forth on whether or not to do this. Your breath became a little chopped, nerves bursting through the wall of your drunken carelessness.

Finally you were close enough to feel his breath on your lips, and your hands naturally shot up to cup his jaw. He clenched it, his eyes falling heavy again as his breath caught. Your heart was absolutely pounding from your chest.

“Do it.” He whispered. “Show me.”

You finally let your lips press gently to his, your hands still cupping his jaw, as his hands sat comfortably in his lap. The feeling of them was exactly what you had imagined, soft, supple, and sweet, with the tiniest bit of sting on them from the leftover liquor. You finally exhaled, pulling away a bit to gauge his reaction.

“You can get into it, baby.” He smiled, urging you to push through your nerves. “I’m just here to help, s’just me…” his voice was like honey, the sound of it tearing through your body as he motivated you.

You leaned in again, this time letting yourself be a little more brazen, a little more steadfast as you worked to prove your ex wrong. Worked to impress Josh. Worked to show him. You opened your mouth a little, letting your tongue skirt across his bottom lip. The flavor of him almost knocked you down.

You began to get into it some more, letting your high take over, and letting your guard down as you found yourself really, really enjoying kissing him. You perched up a little bit moving to your knees to get a better stance.

“Mmmhmm… keep goin’ baby…” Josh mumbled when you broke away for a second. His words urged you on, and you felt brave enough to push your tongue further into his mouth, but only a little. You didn’t want to overwhelm, just experiment. His tongue met yours in the process, tasting each other for the very first time.

Your hands curled up in his hair, squeezing at the roots a bit. He let out a little whine, so quiet that you almost didn’t even hear it. It ignited something inside you again, and you knew you had to drive it home. Had to prove yourself. You pulled away for a second, hissing in air as you bit his bottom lip, pulling it out a little and making eye contact before pressing into him again, both of you moving in such unison that you were fully involved in the sultry kiss, now.

At this point you felt like you were teetering on the thin line of platonic kissing; you were still trying to prove yourself, but also…he tasted so good…

You felt the need to be touched. You reached down and grabbed Josh’s wrists, pulling them up to rest on you- one hand on your thigh, and the other around the back of your neck. You wanted reciprocation. He obliged, and as you licked into his mouth, his hand squeezed into your thigh, strong and needing. His fingers felt like burning embers on your leg, and you wished that you had changed into shorts when you got home.

His hand pulled at the back of your neck, burying your mouths further into one another. “Fuck, baby…he was wrong, you proved him so wrong…” Josh said, smiling against your lips as he delved back in. Your mind was swimming from his words of praise, and you decided that though this was simply an act between friends, you knew that you could kiss him all day long, never tiring of the feeling of his lips on yours. You were completely surrounded by him, by his warming presence. His scent, his sounds, his touch… It was all too much. You felt like you were drowning in him, but you didn’t dare try to pull yourself from his waters.

Your hands squeezed at his hair one last time as you let them drift down his cheeks and neck, tickling the back of his neck before rolling across his shoulders. You slowly brought them down to his pecs, and finally rested them on his cheeks again, pulling his face away from yours for a split second before landing one last peck.

When you finally disconnected, you took in the sight of him…hair disheveled, eyes black and glazed, and his hands still rested gently in the places that you put them.

“Holy fuck…” he breathed.

“Oh my god, was it bad? It was bad, wasn’t it? He was right, I’m a horrible kis—“ you were completely cut off by Josh’s lips on yours again, this time forcefully pulling you into him. This kiss was pleading, unbridled, and wanting, and each time you pulled away, you both were panting with want.

“What the fuck are we doing?” You breathed when you broke away.

“Kissing contest.” He answered, his hand respectfully staying on the back of your neck. “I think I’m winning, though…”

“Mmm, I don’t know about that…” you said with a bit more confidence in yourself after seeing how you made him feel.

“Yeah you’re right.” He agreed through an inhale. “You’re kicking my ass at this experiment.” He drove his tongue into your mouth again, but it didn’t make you want to retract…it made you want to pull it in further. You began to feel the heat that the two of you were emanating, and the sweat that was forming on your skin.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely turned on, but you would never let him know that. You couldn’t. You’re just friends. One friend helping another get over his ex by having a kissing contest. Makes total sense.

Finally you pulled away again, covering your mouth with your hand. You laughed, making Josh in turn laugh with you. “Well? What’s the verdict? Was he right?” You asked.

“Fuck no, he wasn’t right. You’re a hell of a kisser, Y/N.” Josh’s smile stretched all the way across his face, completely blissed out in his high. “God damn, you left me a panting mess, baby.”

Your heart stopped at his words, feeling more confidence in yourself than you’d felt in a long, long time. Suddenly, the wildest idea to ever come across your mind escaped right through your lips.

“Josh, we’re just good friends, right?” You asked.

“Yeah, baby. Real good friends.” He wiped his hand across his mouth before extending both arms across the back of your couch.

“Do you—do you care if I finish what I started?” You asked in an absolute moment of weakness. The look on his face turned up into surprise, and you weren’t sure how he was going to react to your question.

“What uh, what do you mean, Y/N?”

You moved toward him again, wanting to feel him again. Feel his hands on you again. Be the center of all his attention again.

“Can you judge something else for me, Josh? I’ve always wondered how well I…performed…and who better to be the judge than my very good friend? Who will be completely honest with me?”

WHO even are you?! You felt like a person outside your own body. The confidence he was giving you was…

“This ain’t no way to treat the broken-hearted, baby…” he replied, his voice a soft breath of air as his head lulled backwards. You paused again, unsure how to take him. “But I’ll be your judge…”

“Really? You will?” You asked, feeling vulnerable, but also wanting to show out for him.

“Mhm. If that’s what you really want…” He bit his lower lip into his mouth, letting his eyes fall onto your lips like they had been doing all night.

“Just friends…” you reiterated.

“Just friends.” He parroted, lightly tapping your cheek with his hand.

This was absolutely something you never did, and definitely wasn’t something you could ever even see yourself doing with Josh, of all people. You were supposed to be making him forget about his ex, letting him talk through it… hell, he was just dumped twenty-four hours ago. But there was something other-worldly spurring you on, whispering in your ear to just do it. And he was letting you. Was it wrong? Maybe, probably… but honestly, where was the harm in it? You were both obviously into each other, and as long as you were just making each other happy, you didn’t see anything wrong with it.

Besides, this new need to make him think about nothing but you at every single second was making your head spin, and you wanted his focus completely on you, right now. You moved to press your lips to his again, letting things naturally heat up so that you could continue on with your intentions. You took a deep breath, confidently removing yourself, and placing yourself in the floor in front of him. It was at this second that you were extremely thankful for your liquid courage, and the fact that you were too stoned to care about much else besides pleasing Josh. He almost made it easy.

“Ten.” Josh said out of nowhere.

“What?” you asked.

“I give your kissing a ten out of ten. Seriously.” He said, smiling from the corner of his mouth as he ran his hand along your arm, peering down at you as you kneeled on the floor.

You felt your face turn beet red, and you halfway didn’t really believe him.

“Stop playing, you don’t have to be nice.” You erred.

“M’not just being nice. Seriously, I rate it a ten.” He stated, and you knew by the sincerity in his voice that he was telling the truth.

“Wow. Didn’t expect that, honestly.” you pulled a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now, you gonna finish what ya started, or not?” There was a darkness in his tone that you hadn’t noticed yet, and it made your stomach turn over with nerves. But even more so, it lit a fuse in your chest that was slowly burning, ready to explode at any given second. And with each passing minute, you wanted to impress him even more.

You maneuvered yourself on your knees, gripping his thighs and pulling them apart so that you could place yourself between them. Your hands stayed there on his legs, squeezing and kneading at his muscles as you moved your hands closer and closer to where you both really wanted them to be. You could almost physically see him getting harder through his dark jeans, and you could hear his breathing picking up, too.

You let your hands drift to his groin, squeezing the muscles there as he leaned down in his seat, giving you extra space as his head fell back on the cushions. You found the button on his jeans, pulling the fabric sideways and undoing the button with one hand and unzipping the zipper. “Damn, alright…” Josh laughed, holding his hands up. “Show off.”

You took that as a tiny win, and decided to keep it going, playing on his words from earlier. ‘You keep me guessing at every turn…’

You pushed your hair back behind your shoulders, and leaned yourself down, letting your mouth meet his boxer-covered dick. You nipped your teeth lightly at it, making him hiss. You could tell just from this little bit of contact that he was well-endowed, and you felt your mouth physically watering for him. You needed to taste him. Your lips bounced around, peppering little kisses all over… the indirect contact making his hips jut up a little.

You sat back, motioning with your hands. “Pull them down for me.” you demanded of him, and he gave you the sneakiest smirk, leaning back and pushing his pants and boxers down far enough to spring himself free.

You weren’t wrong. He was perfectly sized, and it reassured you that you were okay with going forward with this. What you did notice, though, was he wasn’t as hard as you wanted him to be. Your hands rested on his thighs again as you sized him up, licking your lips as you prepared yourself.

Josh had been the one urging you on all night, but suddenly, it felt like there had been a little bit of a shift. You finally brought your moistened lips to him, licking little circles around his tip, starting slowly at first, then picking up a little bit of speed. You swirled and gently suckled, and you felt him take in a big breath of air into his lungs. You glanced up at him, finding him looking up at the ceiling as he bit his lips.

“What’sa matter, Josh? You okay?” you pressed, knowing that you could stop at any second, if that was what he wanted.

“No, yeah. I’m fine. I’m sorry, I just… this is the first time someone else…since…” he didn’t need to say anything more.

“God, yeah. I’m sorry, your breakup is so fresh, I’m sure this is more mental than anything, for you…” you agreed as you sat back. “We don’t have to–”

“No. Yes we do, Y/N. I’m just…” You could tell Josh was having a hard time with his words again, for the second time tonight.

“Just what? You can tell me…”

He swallowed, placing a sweet hand on the side of your face. “This is the first time I’ve um…been…with a woman…in a very long time.”

“Oh.” You muttered, his sentiment catching you off guard a little. You hadn’t realized you never even asked the name of his ex, let alone any details about the relationship.

“But it’s okay, Y/N…” He smiled, letting his thumb brush your cheek. “I may be wallowing in my sorrows, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want this, want you to do this. Just…in my head a little bit.” He admitted, putting a hole through your heart.

You sighed. “It doesn’t feel wrong?” Your voice was tiny as it escaped you.

He quickly shook his head side to side as he layed back on his elbow behind his head. “No. That’s what’s making me freak out a little, it doesn’t feel wrong in the least.” He swallowed. “Maybe I…Maybe I wasn’t as in love as I thought I was.”

You smiled a pitiful smile as you rested your elbows on his knees, taking a deep, recentering breath of your own.

“You’re really fuckin’ pretty, Y/N.” He complimented you out of the blue, his thumb still grazing your cheek. “And I’m really into you.”

“You are?” You asked.

“Yeah. I know we said we’re friends, but friends can do this. Right? Doesn’t stop the fact that I’m attracted to you.” His glossy words made your stomach do flips again as you realized maybe his feelings were the exact same as yours. Unexplainable, but still overwhelmingly good.

“Yeah. I really think friends can do this.” You agreed. And you were serious. If you were going to be this person for Josh, then he could also in turn be this person for you.

“Plus, the feeling of your lips on my cock just now…” He laughed through his nose. “Might be in competition with your ten out of ten kissing. And you hadn’t even…” He stopped there, biting both his lips into his mouth as he slid his hips down again.

Good god, you’d hoped he would have a little bit of a dirty mouth.

“You want me to keep going?” You asked.

“Fuck yeah, I do. I gotta judge your skill, don’t I?” He played, removing his hand from your cheek and running it through your hair. He gripped it a little, making you stiffen your neck. Your eyes flashed to his, and you didn’t even need to say anything, he knew what you meant. He nodded, giving you the go ahead, and you prayed that he wouldn’t remove his hand from tangling up in your hair.

You slowly leaned down to him again, starting things up just as you had before. Your tongue swirled on his tip, wetting it in circles as you let the saliva build up in your mouth. Around and around you took it, descending further and further onto him with every rotation. You heard him breathe out, his hips shaking a little beneath you. As you got as far as you could get, you pursed your lips down, tightening them around the base of his cock before sucking hard, pulling up and off of him completely. His hand tightened in your hair, showing you that he was liking it so far.

He let out a groan, followed by a little laugh. “Fuck yeah, Y/N…”

You quickly found a rhythm, letting your head begin to bob as you worked your tongue and cheeks, alternating forceful suction mixed with light little pops of your lips. His hips were jutting with every movement, and the sounds that were coming from him were enough to keep you going, keep you striving to impress him…

You took him in your hand, gripping at the base and using the saliva that had dripped down as lubrication to move your hand, twisting and pumping it. “Jesus Christ, you’re…” You took a second to glance up at him, seeing his jaw tightly clenched and his chest heaving with labored breaths. He brought his other hand down, pulling the hair that had drifted down away from your face, pulling it all back to the nape of your neck and holding it tightly there. You nodded, letting him know you were okay with him guiding your movements.

“Mhm.” You hummed on him. “Show me how you like it.”

He let out a choke of breath and readjusted in his seat, spreading his legs wider for you. He gripped a little harder on your hair, pulling you up and across his stomach, your faces almost touching as he brought his mouth close. He didn’t say anything, just hissed through his teeth as he scanned over your face. He then used a little bit of force to push your head back down to where it was, and you resumed your work.

Fuck, what the hell is happening… your chemistry with Josh was absolutely off the chain. You felt like you would follow every command he would ever give you, let him use you in the worst ways, completely trusting him to do as he pleased. You were absolutely yearning to satisfy him.

“I’ll show you exactly how I like it baby, but this is your show, remember? You’re calling the shots…” he growled, his voice deeper and more grating than it was earlier. You shrugged one shoulder, replacing your hand around his base. You moved it up and down opposite of your mouth, making his whole body start to shake. Your tongue worked on him, as your mouth drifted down as far as it could possibly go, with the help of Josh’s light guidance.

The weed had contributed to your slow, languid movements while the alcohol made your inhibitions fly out the window… the beautiful combo of the crossfade sending you both into a blurry and slow-motioned entanglement. You swore you could listen to his noises and praises on repeat. “So fuckin’ pretty, Y/N… so fuckin’ pretty…” He mumbled, lightly thrusting himself into your mouth as your neck began to ache a little. “Slow and steady, just like that…”

He puffed out a quick breath with a blow of his lips, and you could tell that he was enjoying himself just as much as you were. Normally, you would finish up the job, and expect repayment, but getting Josh to even feel the tiniest bit of pleasure at your hand was enough. It was that draw, that need to make him feel good. Keeping him and him only in the spotlight. And if you had to guess, you were doing a pretty good job at it.

After a few seconds, his movements became jostled, and his once slow grinding movements started to falter. You felt him start to throb in your mouth, and you knew it wouldn’t be long until he was crumbling beneath you, all at the mercy of your mouth.

“Hey, you want me to–” he said, suddenly shuddering.

You nodded again, pleading with him to let it all go. You wanted the whole thing, wanted him to have the full experience. You needed to see what he tasted like.

His breath started to pick up as he gripped your hair tighter, his hips pushing his dick further into your mouth as you let him graze the back of your throat, tears pouring from the sides of your eyes. “Come on baby, come on… just a little bit longer…fuck…”

Finally, he was letting it all go, filling up your mouth as you swallowed his bitter-sweetness down, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. His whole body went rigid as he came, shaking and jerking as you worked to make sure not a drop was left behind. You squeezed your hand around him, pulling him up into your mouth. His whines were like music to your ears, pathetic and pitiful as he worked to come back down to earth.

“Son of a bitch, Y/N… that was…” he said as you sat back up, wiping your mouth off with the back of your hand. He caught your jaw in his grasp, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing you to open your mouth. He pulled you closer, bringing you in for a heated kiss that left you smoldering for him.

When you finally pulled away, you met eyes with him, and you could tell he was completely blissed out. “S’been a long time since I’ve had anything like that.” He admitted, pulling your back up to sit by him on the couch again.

He tucked himself back in his boxers but decided to forgo buttoning back up. “Really? Even in a four and a half year long relationship?” You asked.

“Ah, I dunno. We were long distance, so… it was few and far between but. Really I meant being with someone who actually showed passion about making me feel good. You know what I mean?”

You couldn’t help but smile. That was exactly what you wanted out of this. For Josh to feel that you wanted to be there.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I just…wanted to make you feel good.” You admitted, shrugging one shoulder up as you brushed your disheveled hair back into place. “So, what’s my rating, huh? Give it to me straight.”

Josh closed one eye and looked up with the other as if he was thinking really hard. “Uh, nine and a half.”

Your mouth fell slack, and you felt the soreness in your jaw joints. “Ah! Why the half?!” You argued. “Not a ten?”

He chuckled. “Would be a ten, but I only took away the half because I know that I won’t be able to feel you like that all the time.” You both stared at one another as you let his words sink in.

Could you, though?

“And because I feel like you were holding back, a little. Weren’t you?” He pressed. His statement took you by surprise, because he was right.

“...Maybe…”

“You shouldn’t have. It’s just me, remember. Guess you’ll have to show up and show out next time. See if you can get a perfect ten.” He said with nonchalance.

“Next time?” You spat without a thought.

He shrugged, squeezing his hand around your thigh. “Sure, why not? If you want to, of course. Might be fun to have a little situation we’re both comfortable with… no strings attached type thing…”

You ran over the idea in your head, not really seeing anything wrong with it. You nodded, agreeing with his outlandish proposal.

“But, there is one thing, Y/N.” He swallowed, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. “Obviously I… um. I didn’t make you feel good, tonight. But, just give me some–”

You cupped your hand over Josh’s mouth. “Josh, honey, shut up. You don’t have to explain it to me. I understand, and it’s okay. If we’re gonna do this, it's all gonna be in good fun, right?”

He nodded from behind your hand. “Right.” He mumbled.

“And I certainly didn’t feel uncomfortable with you, so. I’m pretty positive we could just sit here and look at each other and we would have a good time.” You laughed, pulling your hand from his face. He caught your hand in his, and gave it a sweet squeeze.

“Not sure I’d be able to sit by you for too long without something happening. You’re a fuckin’ treat, Y/N. I swear.” His eyes traveled down your body again, and you watched his gears turn as his gaze drifted over your breasts. “Thank you, for tonight.”

“Thank you.” You whispered. “We still friends?”

He took your chin between his fingers. “Yeah. Good friends.”

As the air between you finally started to settle and the intoxication turned into sobriety, you realized that the night was nearly about to turn into morning. You didn’t have to be at work until 11, so you were going to be able to get at least a little bit of sleep before your shift tomorrow.

“It’s too late to get an Uber, Josh. Just stay here.” You more demanded than suggested, pulling the blanket from the back of the couch and tossing it overtop of his lap. You stood, stretching your body as you made your way toward your bedroom.

“What, you not gonna invite me to your bed?” He asked, throwing you off.

“Uhh, I mean, sure–”

“I’m kidding, Y/N. We’re friends. Friends don’t sleep in beds together. Friends sleep on couches.” You watched as he burrowed himself under the puffy blanket and made himself horizontal.

“Maybe one day you’ll end up in my bed.” You tossed the joke over your shoulder, walking down the short hallway.

“And maybe one day you’ll get a perfect ten.”

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xenocorner · 3 months

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(If you're someone who enjoys my work, and also happens to like/support AI generated images, please give this a read? Just hear me out, please. This is not a bashing post, I promise. It's not pro-ai either though. But please hear me out)

This whole AI art stuff is just getting... Honestly exhausting. If you are someone who supports AI generated images, I beg of you, hear me out? I'm not here to bash, to say you're a bad person or a thief. I know it's more complex than that. I'm just, trying to express how I feel about this whole ordeal. I'm not here to get angry either. I don't have the energy for that. I'm also not trying to change your mind. Just, hopefully help you see/feel a different perspective? That's all.

Long rant under the cut because. There's a lot.

I'm not even angry anymore. I don't have the energy for that. But I keep seeing AI images all over, everywhere. The thing is getting better (because of course it is). And I see more and more people support it. And sometimes those people are also artists or people who like art and support artists.

And then I also see artists be laid off. I see how it gets harder and harder to make a break in the industry. And even after you make it you get laid off because... People don't wanna bother with it anymore. Corps would rather cut costs.

And then I see people defend AI images. Say it's okay, that it isn't stealing from artists, that it is just a tool, ignoring a huge part of the problem (whether willfully or not).

And it just makes me so incredibly sad. So utterly devastated.

I was angry. I really used to be angry. I'm just hurt now. Hopeless for the future. And tired. Really really damn tired.

Tired of artists having to justify their existance in the professional world. Tired of people just saying... No.

No, you don't get to thrive. And you're selfish and entitled for wanting to thrive. No, you don't get to feel hurt when your work gets scrapped without your permission to feed a data base designed to replace you. No, you don't get a say in this. Don't like? Bohoo, don't see.

Well, how can I not see when this issue directly affects how I live? How can I not see when this issue affects my future? It's not just a matter of "Don't like x kind of content, don't interact with it". It really is not. I really wish it was, I wish it was that simple. But it's not. Because this is not something like a ship or a trope that one can ignore and not be affected. This is like trying to ignore a dumpster fire in your neighborhood. Yeah, you can avoid looking at it. You can avoid talking about it. But the smoke is still getting into your house. You're still breathing it. It's still hurting you. It will have effects on your life, whether you like it or not.

I threw away 12 years of my life building up my skill to work in a field that feels like it's dying out. Am I (and countless other artists) just supposed to start over? How? Time is unforgiving.

Bohoo for your bad choices, suck it up. Your fault for pursuing art as a career.

Was I supposed to just, KNOW, somehow, that the career I choose, that used to be viable, would just... Take this turn? Was I supposed to have a 10 year look into the the future?

You should create for the joy of creating!

I do. I love creating. I love making people happy with my work. Work I spent years perfecting. It's the most beautiful feeling in the world to know that someone smiled or cried or felt something because of something I did. It makes me smile and cry too.

But I also like to be able to eat. To have a roof. To pay for my meds. And the joy of creating honestly dwindles each time I see people talk about AI images the same way they talk about a painting in the Louvure.

Becaus they do. I've seen people talk about images generated by a machine (built upon stealing artwork from unconsenting artists) like they're the work of God. And they write such beautiful things too. And I'm left baffled, confused, uneasy.

And then I go to see artists, living, breathing, feeling artists, who create marvelous pieces, who pour their heart into their work, who shed sweat blood and tears to get their skills to where they are, who are still shedding sweat blood and tears to keep improving... And they don't even get a 'nice'. They've been job searching for 3 years. They can't get a steady flow of commissions. They're scrambling to be able to get a table at a con.

And it hurts to my very core.

It hurts in a place I don't even know how to describe, because it's so deep and so personal and so raw that I don't think there's a name for it.

I love art. I love it so damn much. I love making it, I love sharing it, I love teaching it.

I think many other people love art too. I think many other people who love art don't even consciously realize they do.

And it hurts seeing art just... Become this.

It hurts seeing the artistic souls of this earth be pushed down and down again and again over and over and be told to just. To just suck it up.

To die off.

Because when people support AI images, they are telling us to die off. It feels like they are telling us to die off.

And I don't think the people who do realize it at all, because a lot of people who support AI images are not bad people. They are not. They enjoy art too. But they are, consiously or not, directly or indirectly, hurting the artists whose work made the data base AI generators use possible.

They're telling us to die off because they already have our work. And they can use it to generate new, regurgitated work faster, cheaper. They don't need us. So while they may like what us, artists, do, they're feeding a system that is killing us off. Both metaphorically and literally. Metaphorically by killing the will to create. Literally by taking our living off of us (or at least to those who's art is their living. Like myself).

And again.

It hurts so damn much.

And I don't think a lot of people manage to see the hurt past all the anger.

I, personally, have grown exhausted and there's no anger left in me, only sad and hurt.

But I promise you, behind every angry and fighting and barking and bitting artists there is out there, there's hurt. There's some form of hurt behind each and every one of them. Of us.

I really hope this reaches the right people. Whether that be a fellow artists struggling to get their feelings into words to let them know they're not alone. Or someone who supports AI images, and supports artists too, and can maybe get a glimpse into a side of this whole issue. Not necessarily to change their mind but, maybe help them understand better where all the anger from artists may be coming from.

Please, I'm not here to start any fights or debates. I really am not. I just need to get this sort of thing out there, because I think talking about it is important.

#Rambles #I know I have some followers that like my work that also like AI #I still love you #I know you don't try to do harm and are just here to vibe about the same blorbos #I know you like art in general #But I'd wish you could hear me out on this #Even if it doesn't change your perception

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gretavangroupie · 29 days

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G13 - Finish What Ya Started

Spinning Now: "Finish What Ya Started" by Van Halen (1988)

Pairing: Josh x Female Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Description: You and Josh, your favorite new co worker, decide to share more than drinks as what started as a normal night turns into something you never expected.

Warnings: Smoking, Drinking, Cursing, Drug Use, Heavy Flirting, Praise, Dirty Talk, Touching, Mention of Breakups and Heartbreak, Sadness. Smut: Kissing, Oral M!Receiving