#just thinking about losing that ONE thing you've been doing for decades and you're still young you know you're 21 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ineffably-human · 8 months

Text

We're going to scream about Nandermo all week, but right now I need to talk about Baron Afanas. Because the Baron's arc, so to speak, always felt like a big part of the series DNA for me - and oh fuck did this episode deliver on why.

I think we can agree: in the show, vampire society is fucked up, right?

Vampires on their own have plenty to deal with that can make them crazy. They have to live by killing. They lose everyone from their old lives. They have to find new reasons to keep going on, forever, so shit can get decadent really fast.

But holy shit, what that's turned into in vampire society? Where you actively put cruelty over mercy, and violence over solving your problems? Death cults and scam artists roam free, but if someone has depression the best thing to do is ignore them. Someone can get their mind wiped or be locked up for centuries, and that's just what you do to your species.

So: the Baron's arrival is the first conflict of the whole show. The joke is about an ancient powerful creature of pants-shitting terror, vs three lesser vampires who just want to live their lives and not get murdered for being too lazy to conquer humanity. There's a lot of talk about how to please him: do you keep to the old ways, or pick up some new traditions? Decorate with flayed skin, or with glitter? And the Baron says: who cares, you're all soft and useless. All that matters is getting more control over this world, until people are cattle and we have no reason to hide anymore.

But later he confesses: that shit stopped mattering ages ago. He's not even real nobility, he's literally impotent, and he talks about doing horrible things because he doesn't know what else to say. He's angry and half-crazy from boredom. And admitting that, owning those feelings, means suddenly he has three new friends and a whole new world of things to enjoy.

There's the Baron the rest of the vampire world knows, but for one night we see the ancient, unknowable terror was just a guy. Maybe he's always been just some guy.

That fun puts him in a vulnerable position, and he's killed by the most unwitting vampire slayer in fiction. But Baron Afanas is changed. He sucks dirt for a year and still comes out of it with a new lightness and joy to him. He saves the Sire, another ancient terrifying monster everyone was eager to kill or send away. They adopt the hellhound. They get cozy and give advice. They make popsicle stick houses and go on walks. They live.

And that seemed like the end of the story until last night - when the Baron suddenly felt like the butt of a joke everyone knew but him. Spurred on by someone else who feels lonely and ignored, the Baron felt vulnerable. And he snapped back to how he lived for centuries.

'What the hell are you all doing, enjoying yourselves? We're supposed to be unhappy. We're supposed to live centuries of unhappiness, bringing pain to everyone in our path, and we're definitely not supposed to cheer up our friend who's sad.'

Nobody liked the Baron before Guillermo killed him, not even other powerful vampires we meet; they saw the Baron as a crazy far beyond their own crazy. But this is also how vampire society values you. It's how they measure Nandor's worth when they think he's dead, too: how old and powerful you are, how much you've been able to conquer and kill.

Vampire pods are both cliquish and aren't expected to last in the first place. If someone dies, you literally paint them out of your lives and forget. Everything we see discourages feelings, sincerity, or even basic companionship. The only way to earn respect is to be cruel. The more cruel you are, the more powerful you are. The more powerful you are, the more feared you are - the lonelier you are, the crazier you are. It's practically designed to create the Baron, or worse.

But new vampires don't behave that way. And the vampires we follow in the show don't behave that way - because they have each other, because they've been encouraged to have each other, often by Guillermo. (Holy shit, Nadja saying maybe she'd be fine dying, and Nandor immediately asking if she's okay? Nothing changes in this house, except everything does. They're not going to almost lose one of their own ever again.)

The vampires in the heart of vampire culture never seem happy to be like this. It doesn't have to be like this.

The Baron doesn't become a tyrannical monster for long. Because he never actually was one - and because he spends two evenings and a fireball to the face, watching Nandor and Nadja fight for Guillermo. Watching them plead and cling and defy, seeing Guillermo's earnest feelings in spite of his bloodline and the mistakes he's made. Seeing Nandor's perfect trust, and then his grief, the way he insists that Guillermo was never 'just' anything. The Baron can't find real fulfillment in hurting someone (because that ship sailed ages ago). He can't deride them for caring, because he's cared for a long time now.

And when the Baron admits that's who he is, when he says it out loud, he only gains more in his life. He finds new depth in the happiness he'd felt for a while now, because he's admitted and allowed himself to be happy. And now he has the children he's always wanted. Living together, the Baron and the Sire are still ancient and powerful - and they're also family, finding real joy together in a world that was ready to dispose of them.

"I suppose with the right company, it can be beautiful, this eternal existence."

There's an inherent selfishness to being a vampire, taking from someone else in order to live. But there doesn't have to be inherent cruelty, or lack of love.

They're all ready to admit they care. The Staten vampires have all cared for Guillermo or each other in their own ways this season. And Guillermo doesn't lack for flaws, but loving his monster family has never been one of them. (When he and Nandor work their shit out, they're gonna be insufferable.)

Now they just have to let the Guide in. Because she's absolutely starved for love, and vampires get pretty fucked up when they're on their own.

#fandom: wwdits #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #i am a meta gremlin #baron afanas #tl;dr i am a sucker for choosing love #especially when the world around you says it's stupid or you're not allowed #but love was always in you so it happens anyway

735 notes · View notes

takeme-totheworld · 5 months

Text

I don't have the energy right now to try to recreate the post I accidentally yeeted into the void, but I've been having lots of feelings about the ongoing fandom discussion of Aziraphale's decision at the end of S2.

I wasn't surprised by his decision at all. The minute he said "I think I might have misjudged the Metatron" I had an immediate, overwhelming feeling of "OH NO" because I saw exactly where the scene was going. And I was right! I felt zero surprise when the episode ended the way it did. (Devastation, yes. Surprise, no.)

Not only that, I was shocked at how shocked everyone else was. Because I grew up in a toxic religious community, of which I was a very devoted and enthusiastic member until young adulthood. So I have firsthand experience with that kind of indoctrination, and know exactly what a mindfuck it is.

Look, it's possible that there's something else going on under the surface, that Aziraphale was being coerced or that he was lying to Crowley in order to protect him or that he was trying to send Crowley a coded message and it failed or whatever. I'm not the creator of this story, I don't know. But what deeply distresses me is how often I've seen people say that it has to be one of those other things because if it isn't—if Aziraphale made his decision of his own free will because he actually believes that Heaven is the side of good, or at least that it once was and will be again if it can just solve the whole bad leadership problem—that means he's either unforgivably cruel or unforgivably ignorant or both.

It's a painful reminder for me, every time, of the fact that if you are the victim of this type of indoctrination, a lot of people will assume that it's your own fault for being gullible enough to believe such obviously ridiculous and wrong things. (Hint: it's only obvious from the outside! Because if you're on the outside, you are not having your mind directly and repeatedly fucked with!) Or that if you've been exposed to contradicting information, but you still continue to believe the things that were indoctrinated into you, it's because you're willfully choosing to stay clueless.

And that is just not how that works. Yes, some people cling to their indoctrination because they're genuinely happy with their lives as part of whatever institution, because it stacks the deck in their favor in some way, because they like having a respectable-sounding excuse to be bigoted jerks, or whatever. But there are also lots of people who have just legitimately had their minds twisted into pretzels by years or decades (or in Aziraphale's case, millennia) of mental conditioning and manipulation.

You can generally tell the difference between the two. At least, if you come from the kind of background I do, you can. But I imagine that even if you didn't, it's probably fairly obvious once you get to know people who is a shitty person using their religion as an excuse to be shitty, and who is a fundamentally decent person who has just had their mind so thoroughly fucked with that they've been manipulated into believing total bullshit.

And breaking the latter group out of their conditioning isn't as simple as just "show them information that contradicts what they've been taught," as much as we all wish it could be. It's a long, messy, and traumatic process. Your entire worldview falls apart and it's terrifying. You lose a community and an identity in the process. And there's often debilitating guilt afterward, about the person you were and the things you did and said while you were still in it.

So I watched the ending of S2 and my reaction was, "Well, of course Aziraphale said the things he said and made the decision he made, he's not free of his programming yet." It made all the sense in the world to me even as it was excruciatingly painful to watch, because there was a time in my life when I made decisions every bit as jaw-droppingly fucked up and incomprehensible to outside observers, decisions I look back on now and still want to shake my younger self by the shoulders and scream "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU??" And the end of S2 took me right back to that time in my life, when my head was so thoroughly messed up that I made terrible decisions that hurt myself and alienated the people around me, all while wanting nothing more in the world but to be a good person and do the right thing. And I imagine that when Aziraphale finally breaks out of his own indoctrination he is going to be horrified and devastated by a lot of what he did and said, not to mention the betrayal of how thoroughly he was manipulated and gaslit.

Yes, I am projecting hard onto Aziraphale. Yes, this is just my own theory about the final 15. But I don't see anything in the story that flat-out contradicts this reading of his character. And honestly, I care less about the veracity of my interpretation than I do about the fans saying things like "I can't take the final 15 at face value because it would make Aziraphale a terrible person," or "If he really believed that stuff he was saying, Crowley should make him beg and grovel for at least a century before taking him back" or even "if he really believed that stuff, he deserves to have Crowley never speak to him again."

Just...as a person who used to be heavily indoctrinated and has to live with the memory of who I was and what I believed back then for the rest of my life, it's incredibly distressing.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 spoilers #aziraphale #the final fifteen #religious trauma #religious indoctrination #religious deconstruction #oh look i said i had no energy and then i wrote this much anyway #i'm very normal about this

283 notes · View notes

cozy-cinnamon-roll · 14 days

Text

Stitches (Part II)

(Read Part I Here! used to be We Interrupt This Broadcast... changed the name because I feel like this fits better 😅)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Rosie, Ler!OC, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, very brief blood mention, medical themes (non-graphic & painless). And again, this is set right after Alastor gets his ass handed to him by Adam, so you can expect some angst (don't worry, he gets better).

If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige. 💕

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

"Almost ready" I said. "Basically finished" I said. Sorry y'all, the Chronic Illness Fairy struck. 😅 I will say this was my favorite part to write, but also the one I'm most uncertain about... bit more angst in this installment and I'm not much of an angst writer lol... but with Rosie in the mix (especially as a ler), angst never lasts long. 🥰

Also I changed the title. Hopefully it's not confusing that way... cuz without Part 1 this fic makes zero sense 😅

One last thing... I'm so happy y'all like Trudy! Was thinking about posting a lil sketch of her at some point (I need a new insomnia project now that this fic is done 😅). I've been having a truly awful few weeks on the anxiety front, so all the positive feedback on Part I has been quite literally making my days 💕

Hope you enjoy!!

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Ooh, you stubborn little bastard. You're still gonna refuse to laugh?" Rosie mutters.

Alastor doesn't dare try to speak. All he can manage is a defiant shake of his head.

"Look, my friend. If you 'don't mind a little tickling,' and getting all giggly is your specialty…" Rosie tweaks his bottom rib, eliciting a noise that comes just short of a squeak. "What, exactly, is the problem here?"

"I'm supposed to be in control!" he grinds out through his twitching grin.

"You are in control, sir." Trudy abruptly withdraws her hands, holding them up innocently. "You can tell me to stop at any time."

Alastor cringes. He was sorta hoping no one would point that out.

"Which is why I find it so fascinating that you haven't yet." A sly smirk creeps across Rosie's face.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"I- I'm humoring you!"

"Humoring me?" Rosie tilts her head. "My dear, I hope you're not doing this just for my sake. If you don't want Trudy to check for further injury-"

"No, I do! O-on my terms!"

"This is on your terms."

"Yes, but-"

"In fact, you insisted."

He stumbles again, before mumbling another meager, "…to humor you!"

Trudy shoots her boss a disoriented look - but Rosie, as usual, is hearing her friend loud and clear.

"Alastor." Rosie rolls her eyes, gestures for Trudy to step aside, and scoots over to place a hand on his knee. "Adam is dead. Everyone in hell thinks you're either succumbing to your wounds in some remote gutter or hiding in whatever alternate dimension you just spent the last seven years. You're not even 'on air'." She leans in. "You can drop the act for a moment, if it's what you need."

That certainly hits the mark. For the first time, Alastor's smile falters - not completely dropping, but certainly losing much of the strained quality it's had since he arrived.

"I wish I could, my dear."

Encouraged, Rosie continues. "Well, what's stopping ya? As much as I love spending time with Alastor the Radio Demon… if you wanna take this opportunity to let out whoever's underneath that effervescent grin of yours, you know we wouldn't mind."

Alastor swallows - and for the first time in a decades, Rosie finds his expression difficult to read. "Rosie, I'm afraid I can't really..."

"I mean, you've been holding that same silly show-host-smile for years! Don't tell me you've never gotten tired of it!"

"It's sewn on, Rosie."

"…What?"

He hesitates. "Let's just say today wasn't the first time I've been, ah... stitched up." As he speaks, he gestures to his toothy grin. And for once, there's not a trace of distortion in his voice.

Rosie's dark eyes go wide when she realizes what he means. The cannibal overlord just stands there for a beat, in an uncharacteristic moment of shock.

But, being Rosie, she quickly recovers. "Well, so what?"

"I'm just saying, I'm afraid I can't really drop the act."

"Nonsense! Since when has your act had anything to do with your face?" Rosie flicks her hand, as if brushing the thought aside. "Who cares if you can't show genuine Alastor. I wanna hear him."

"But my microphone..."

"You're doing just fine without it."

Once again, this attempt at reassurance only makes Alastor look more disturbed. "Th-this can't be me!"

"...Well, no. This right here sure isn't the Alastor I know. But…"

Alastor is barely listening to her anymore. His broadcast persona has been his sole identity since he was alive. Now his radio tower has been reduced to rubble, his microphone snapped clean in half, even his carefully-styled clothing left in tatters…

If this is the Genuine Alastor he's now stuck with - panicked, stuttering, weak - he can't imagine how he'll ever be able to face the rest of hell…

But these racing thoughts are once again interrupted by nails tracing up his sides. A sharp yelp cuts the air as poor Alastor just about jumps out of his skin.

"…Perhaps I can offer a little help?" Rosie suggests gently, once she has his undivided (and adorably flustered) attention. "On your terms, of course?"

Alastor just gazes back at her for a long moment. "What do you have in mind?"

"I happen to know something about you that even you can't fake."

The radio demon hesitates… before heaving a sigh and, to Rosie's surprise, giving a small nod of consent.

She breaks into a brilliant (and frankly terrifying) smile.

Before Alastor can brace himself, Rosie's hands have both found his sides and begun working into his waist. Having just watched him squirm around under Trudy's thorough probing twice (and adored every second of it), she already has a pretty good idea of where his worst spots are.

Which is made abundantly clear by Alastor's reaction. Within seconds he's gone from still trying to hold it all in by habit, to giggling into his hands, to cackling hysterically.

And it's the kind of laughter she's spent the last seven years missing. This isn't the confident, taunting chuckle he brings out for battles or brushing off rivals; this is bright, helpless, occasionally hiccuping laughter, the kind that is nearly impossible for him to stop once he starts - and the kind she only has the privilege of hearing when something truly amuses him.

"You can't sew your laughter on," Rosie reminds him. "This is all yours."

Rosie's fingers creep up under his shirt to scribble on bare tummy, adding a couple new sweet spots to her mental catalogue. This technique brings out even more of her favorite little quirks: the way he bats playfully (and completely ineffectually) at her wrists; his repeated attempts to speak around his laughter that only result in frantic spurts of incomprehensible, giggle-laced gibberish.

As she traces her nails across his lower belly she also finds a tiiiny layer of unexpected pudge. Which probably shouldn't surprise her - he's been out of the battle scene for seven years, after all. All those deer carcasses have to go somewhere.

Regardless, she finds it terribly endearing for some reason... and the surge of affection translates into a corresponding surge in the intensity of Rosie's tickles.

"AHaha! Ro- Rosie!" he blurts, his voice jumping a full octave higher than normal. "Stop!!"

Rosie removes her hands immediately. "Stop?"

"Aha- ah- well- I mean, er…" He stumbles breathlessly, and gives a sheepish cough.

"You didn't really want me to stop, did you?"

Rosie resumes with a chuckle, reeling herself in just a little. "How 'bout we say... oh... 'enough,' if you really want me to quit?"

Of course, she has to go and say it out loud.

"M-more of a reflehex..." he admits reluctantly.

Alastor tosses a shaky thumbs-up at her, already too lost in his own giggles to manage a verbal reply.

And he's gotta admit… Rosie was absolutely right. He wouldn't stop her right now for all the souls in hell. There's a reason Alastor has the most recognizable evil cackle of any other overlord. He can't help but find dissolving into laughter as cathartic and exhilarating as always - even if this time, it's not at some poor soul's misfortune. It's a result of his best friend's affection for her darling deer demon.

"As fun as getting your soft little belly is," Rosie muses, pausing to let Alastor catch his breath for a moment, "I can't help but wonder if you're ticklish anywhere else…"

Alastor may be off the air, but Rosie can practically hear the screech of microphone feedback just by the look on his face. "….I plead the fifth."

"Have you considered his ears?" Trudy pipes up shyly. While she'd managed to restrain herself behind an impeccably professional bedside manner earlier, it had taken everything in her power not to stroke Alastor's ears when she'd been close enough to do so. They were just. so. fluffy.

"Ohhh, heavens…" Alastor, for his part, curls in on himself at the mere suggestion.

Rosie grins. "Hey, 'no' is always an option."

A long pause. Alastor can't believe he's considering this. But the sensation of being tickled, as unbearable as it is, does feel awfully pleasant… and it's been so long since anyone has dared to touch him…

And what else does he have to lose at this point, anyway?

"I suppose if you're… very gentle…"

"Are you aware that your ears are the softest thing in the nine circles?"

This stipulation ends up backfiring. When it comes to his ears, gentle is worse. So, so much worse.

Poor Alastor is too busy clutching his stomach and snickering madly into his sleeve to reply.

"I should know, I work in retail. These right here-" Rosie traces her fingers down the feathery-soft edges, sending the radio demon into a new round of hysterics. "-Would fetch a pretty penny."

"They're nohot for saHA-ale!!"

"Nooo, I should say not." Rosie's hapless victim lurches back into the cushions as her fingers find the fluffy region at the base of his ears. Even without the microphone, his cackles have no problem filling the room. "You're the only demon classy enough to wear them."

"And don' you - GAHaha! - f-forget it!" He's so drunk on laughter now that he's beginning to slur his words. His careful elocution has gone the same place as his steady tone, and lack of stutter.

Luckily, he's also far too drunk on laughter to care.

...Right about there, Rosie notices that the faint hum of radio static in the air is no longer just in her head.

He is laughing his heart out for the first time in weeks. Genuinely laughing for the first time in decades. And laughing completely for himself, for his own enjoyment, without need for intimidation or control or image or audience, for the first time since long before he died.

While Trudy typically can't say much for her self-preservation instinct, she's got enough of one to feel hesitant joining her boss in tickling the most powerful overlord in hell (outside the pretense of medical intervention, at least). So she just stands back, watching fondly as The Most Dangerous Overlord This Side of the Pentagram utterly destroys the deer demon.

...At least, until she notices a flicker of green light out of the corner of her eye. Lying forgotten on the end table, the splintered ends of Alastor's microphone are sparking and crackling like live wires.

The surgeon creeps over for a closer look, staring in fascination. And then - just as Rosie gets poor Alastor behind the ears and delivers a scribble to his tummy at the same time - she ever-so-gently nudges the fractured ends closer to one another.

To her surprise, a bright green spark arcs clear across the gap. For a fraction of a second, the whole staff radiates a flash of a familiar green glow.

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Keep him laughing, Rosie," Trudy murmurs over her shoulder. It appears the Radio Demon's downfall will be nothing more than an intermission.

Thanks for being so patient with me y'all! Hope it was worth the wait 💕

💜- Cozy

#lee!alastor #ler!rosie #ticklish!alastor #oh deer he's ticklish #hazbin hotel tickling #hazbin hotel tickles #ticklefic #dr. trudy sawblade #my ocs

66 notes · View notes

beels-burger-babe · 1 year

Text

For Forever With You pt. 2

***This. Took. So. Much. Longer. Than. I. Wanted. It. Too. BUT IT'S DONE! Thank you all so much for being patient while I finished school and took a break, but I am BACK and I am so so glad to be. I hope you all enjoy this lovely little fic! -B***

Summary: A mortal human and an immortal wizard dating is great until something bigger than the world shakes them. War starts in the human world, and the supernatural worlds around them and Solomon can only watch as everything he has carefully nurtured for the past few years begins to crumble.

Part 1

Late 1930s

It turned out that life with you was riveting.

Solomon could hardly remember the last time he had felt so young and free.

With you, he took time to stop and smell the roses. With you, a decade that would usually be an insignificant droplet in his life has become a vibrant waterfall. With you, he is aware of every second, of every step, of every breath that he takes and just how valuable and rare they are to be shared with you.

He treasured you in a way that he hadn't treasured anything since he last sat on a throne in the days of old.

But just as his crown was eventually taken from him, so were the days of peace, joy, and love that he shared with you.

Lightning cracked outside your apartment windows as rain rattled the glass panes. He stood there, gaping at you as you walked around your apartment, packing your things.

"No," he whispered. "MC, please, you can't do this."

You glanced back at him in sympathy as you shook your head. "I'm sorry, Solomon. But you've heard the news; war is on our door step. I can't just sit back and watch, not when I have skills that help."

He gritted his teeth as he clenched onto the enlistment papers you had handed him to read — the very papers with your name written all over them. "If war is really coming, then we can go somewhere away from the war. Away from all of this."

You frowned as you blinked at your partner. "Wait, what?"

Solomon shoved a hand into his suit pocket, quickly magicking a wad of cash into existence before pulling it out in front of you. Your eyes bulged at the sight. "We run. We leave this damned country together. Somewhere the war will never find us. Somewhere safe."

You sighed as you put your hand over his and gently pushed the money back towards him. "I can't. These are my people. My friends. My co-workers. I can't just abandon everything when there's something I can do about it." Keeping your hands on his, Solomon's breath caught in his throat as you pulled him closer to you. "I'm sorry. I understand that you're concerned. But think of it this way, I'm drafted as a telegrapher. I won't even be on the front lines-"

"The front lines don't matter when there are bombs involved," He couldn't help but hiss back, his hands twisting around the money to grip tightly onto yours. "Hospitals were targeted last time. Camps obliterated. What if you're there when- Please, love. I ... I don't want to lose you."

He couldn't lose you. Not yet. Not this soon. He thought he still had decades left with you, not hours.

Your expression softened as you leaned forward and gently pecked Solomon's lips. He savored the sensation of your soft touch like as though it was his final breath of air before death. He clung to every second of your attention and affection that you gifted him with grasping, never-satisfied, hands.

He leaned into your delicate touch, as you cupped his cheek and pulled away. "Solomon, I will do everything in my power to come back to you. Just ... Promise that you'll be here for me when I return."

He closed his eyes, putting of his weight against you as he pulled his lips into a thin line. He wanted to make that promise, but there was more than one reason why he was asking you to run away with him.

You weren't the only one being called to fight — only his was with greater powers that he had been hiding from you.

"I'll do my best," he whispered instead. His heart clenched as he squeezed tightly onto you. "And ... When all this is all done, when we find each other again ..." his heart ached as he met your confused stare, "We never leave each other again. We ... We become forever."

He watched as your breathing halted and realization slowly lit behind your eyes. "A-Are ... Solomon, are you saying that you want to-"

He gathered your lips with his, suffocating the words before they dared enter the world. "Don't say it. Not yet. When all this is over."

You shakily nodded, new tears lining your eyes as you stared at him. "O-Okay. When this is over."

It turns out that was all easier said than done.

The war wasn't quick — Solomon didn't know why he expected it to be. It dragged on for a torturous amount of time filled with seemingly endless evolutions of ways to tear each other apart. Not a day went by that he didn't think of you and yet ...

He hadn't dared to send you a letter, or contact you in anyway.

Solomon didn't doubt that you had attempted to reach him, but he wasn't anywhere close to his normal address. He was traveling across realms, taking part in the supernatural side of the war. He was constantly surrounded by beings who had the ability to snuff out mortal lives with the snap of his fingers — he couldn't let them know about you.

So he went silent. He never spoke of you to anyone. He kept an eye on you and where he knew you were drafted from a distance and ensured that you were safe.

He hated it. God, he hadn't known that being apart from someone could hurt so badly. But he knew it was for the best.

Years passed. Victory was finally earned. The violence and blood shed began to settle, and the world became still once more.

So now he stood outside of the apartment that he hoped you still called home, a bouquet of blue hyacinths in hand and fear stewing in his gut.

With a deep breath, he raised a hand, and knocked on the door.

"Just a moment!"

Several locks clicked and suddenly you were there, looking just as captivating as the day you left.

Your eyes widened as they met his, your butter-soft, kissable lips parting shock. "Solomon," God, he missed the sound of his name dripping from your tongue.

"Hello," he whispered in adoration.

Hearing his voice seemingly shook you out of whatever stupor you had been in, as the beautifully stunned expression on your face melted into fierce furociousness and you began to slam the door.

The wizard quickly stepped forward and caught it. "MC, please! Just a moment!"

"No!" You shouted from behind the door. "You do not get to skip back into my life after abandoning me during a literal war!"

Solomon winced as the heavy oak door rammed against the side of his foot. "My love-"

"You don't get to call me that," you snapped, the door ripping back open. He nearly choked on his own spit at the heat behind the glare you were pointing at him. "I wrote to you daily. I called. And not once did I receive word back. I tried to visit you in the middle of all this mess, you know," you stepped out from your doorway and was now standing nose-to-nose with Solomon. "You weren't home. I asked about you, and even our closest neighbors somehow didn't know who you were. I thought you were dead, Solomon!" His chest ached at the utter grief in your voice as you screamed at him. Your lip quivered as a broken gasp bubbled up them. "Where were you? I- I needed you, and you left me after everything! After you- You had hinted that-"

He moved closer to you, regret pooling in his stomach regardless of how he knew his actions were for the best. Although you may not have wanted to be anywhere near him at this exact moment, he couldn't stand there and watch you fall apart. Without another word, he gathered you tightly into his arms, pulling you as impossibly close as he could and curling himself around you.

For the first time since he first saw your name on your enlistment papers, he could breathe.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as you sobbed into his chest, your balled fists punching against him. "I'm so sorry for leaving you alone. I ... I thought I was protecting you."

Your movements stilled at his explanation. "What do you mean? Are you a spy?"

There was no stopping the snort that ripped out of him. "Oh definitely not. Just ..." he let out a shaky breath and smiled at you. "Let's take this inside. I think it's finally time that I explained a few things."

You stared at him, and for a moment he feared this was the end, that he was about to lose the only mortal that he had truly cared about for centuries. But then you sighed, and you dropped your beautiful eyes to the ground as you stepped back and pushed open the door. "Fine," you breathed and simultaneously breathed hope back into his soul. "Fine. Come in, just ... Talk."

He nearly fell to the ground in relief, but quickly walked in, whispering thank yous under his breath as he did.

After an awkward silence as you made tea (complete with a splash of rum) and some cold sweets you tossed onto a plate, you met him back in the living room and sat sternly across from him. "You have one and only one chance," your words blew over him like the tundra's wind. "Speak."

He swallowed thickly, wiping his unusually calmy palms on his pant legs before taking a deep breath. "This ... This is going to sound insane. You might not believe me, but please, trust that I am telling the truth," your eyes narrowed suspiciously on him as you took a sip of your tea. He nodded in acknowledgment of your attention. "I'm a wizard, an immortal one at that. I was called by the powers of Heaven and Hell to fight the supernatural elements of the war and, as I do every time I leave a location, I wiped the memories of our peers before departing." You looked at him, face remaining neutral, before you slowly set down your drink. "Get out," you hissed, the venomous anger that lay barely restrained under your skin, finally beginning to break loose.

Solomon's heart plummeted. "Love, please. I promise, I'm telling the truth!" You laugh, your expression morphing into one of pure disbelief. "Are you kidding me?! Wizards? Supernatural? Do you even hear yourself?" You choked on your words as you shook your head at him. "If you wanted to lie, you could've done so without mocking my intelligence. Get out."

"I can prove it!" He shouted desperately, rising to his feet. "I can show you!" Without waiting for a response, he began moving his hands in familiar semantics, whispering incantations under his breath as glyphs float in the air for a moment before suddenly a large tome apparated into existence and dropped into his hands. He rushed towards you, flipping open the book and showing you the contents. "This is my spell book. Every spell I've ever created and/or mastered is in here. Look for yourself."

Your eyes widened, jaw dropping a little as you took in the display and the book now being thrust into your hands. You shakily flipped through the fragile pages and sure enough there was page after page of strange symbols and words written in a language you didn't understand. There was a tingling presence to the book that ran through your fingertips up your arms and caused you to shiver.

Solomon slowly comes to stand beside you, watching you take in the precious artifact in your hands. "I wasn't lying," he whispered softly. "I didn't want to go. They didn't give me a choice. Then it was too dangerous for me to stay in contact. I didn't want to risk you getting pulled into an ever greater war than you were already fighting."

At that moment, he wished he could read your mind. Your lips pursed as you continued flipping through the pages. His stomach twisted in knots the longer you perused. There was always the chance that you still wouldn't believe him and would brush him off. There was always the possibility you would believe him, but would be disgusted and would turn him away regardless.

It had all happened before. He didn't want it to happen again. Not with you. But he had no say in the matter.

The snap of the books pages slapping shut pulls his attention back to you as you look up at him. You silently hand it back to him and then you stare. Your eyes dig deep into his soul, they crawl under clothes and beneath his skin, they bury themselves into every mark on his flesh, until they close and you let out a tired sigh, falling against your chair. "That's- It's a lot to take in Solomon," you breathe.

He nods, shifting on his feet and trying to get some grasp on your body language, but the mask you've built for yourself is carefully locked in place and no longer budges for him. "I know," he whispers. "I know it is. But that's the truth, dearest. That's why I left. It's why no one remembers me, but you. Please believe me." You sigh, and run a hand through your hair. "I do, I just-" you cut yourself off, troubled eyes looking into the distance but not truly seeing anything. "This brings out so many more questions. How many other lies did you tell me? If you really are this immortal powerful being, what are you doing here? Why-" Your voice cracks and you finally look at him again — tears, that he has always hated but is now the cause of, lining your eyes. "Why did you chose to haunt me?" He can't handle it. He moves closer, getting down on his knees before you as he takes your hands into his own. "I don't haunt you. I don't have that ability," he lightly jokes before getting serious once more and coming just a little bit closer until your legs brush against each other. "I love you. It's true that I have told you lies before to protect my identity and keep you safe, but that has always been true. I stayed here because I love you. You enchant me, MC. In ways that, even with hundreds of lifetime's of knowledge, I cannot begin to understand," your breath hitches as he runs his thumbs across your knuckles. He leans in and ever so delicately presses a kiss to them.

"Please," he begs with the voice of a broken man whose only thing he had to lose was sitting before him. "I don't want to lose you. Not when we still have time. Let me prove myself to you again. No more lies. Just you. Just me." You hands slip out of his, and a single finger comes under his chin, tilting it up until he was looking at you. For the first time that evening there was something different glimmering in your eyes — a willingness and acceptance. "Alright," you say. "You get one more chance," your other hand swoops around to caress his hair, brushing it up and back away from his face lovingly. "Show me your strange funky world, magic man. All of it this time. Show me the real, Solomon." His body slumps in relief, silver eyes overflowing with the love for you that he has been floating in without you being there to share it with. "I will," he nearly whines. "I will. I promise." And he did. It wasn't easy, but he spent the next year showing you all that he had always fought so hard to keep secret. He introduced you to magic, to other strange and greedy witches. He showed you his demon pact symbols that are burned into his skin, and brought back delicacies from the other realms and taught you about their existance. Slowly, you were introduced to a whole other layer of the man you were already enamoured with. A man who wasn't sketchy or mysterious as people so often thought him to be — but who was curious, childlike in his wonder, and hungry for the knowledge of everything around him.

This Solomon was lighter, even happier than the one you loved before.

And after a year of magic and witches and spells and demons and angels, you approched Solomon as he worked on a potion in your kitchen and pulled out a ring.

You asked to marry this strange wonderful man, and Solomon felt the worlds around him still. You asked to stay by his side, not just for this life time, but to aid you in doing so forever, and Solomon felt the air escape his lungs.

You asked to swear yourself to him and him to you in a pact that no magic could ever comprehend, and Solomon's heart nearly exploded alongside the potion on the stove.

With shaking hands, and trillion reassurances, he said yes. And with a single potion, a piece of paper, and beautifully personal ceremony the two of you were bound together, until the ends of time. It took another month after your marriage and consumption of your immortality potion for him to realize that this was real.

He would never be alone again. ***Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, I've been trying to write this for so so so long and I'm so happy I finally got it done! Thank you all so much for your patience and hanging around while I worked on these two! I love them so much. I hope you guys do too! Thanks! -B***

Taglist:

@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10 @vallison-rea @ivoryclive @newfangled-artistry @pumpkinpatchkid @chirikoheina @sailboat21 @theother4 @todoroses @circus-of-freaks @mcx7demonbros @bloopthebat @simpinginthecorner

195 notes · View notes

possibilistfanfiction · 11 months

Note

argument pt 2?

[here's argument pt 1 (i guess lol); u don't need to read it for this to make sense fully but if u are so inclined & haven't read it yet it might be helpful context.]

you don't know what else you expected. upon a very quick reflection — once your brain reorients itself from beatrice is so hot — you realize you were foolish to think anything else, especially not without a discussion. but, still —

'what are you doing?'

it's clear what beatrice is doing, standing with jillian in one of her fancy labs. she's dressed in all black, a t-shirt delightfully tight on her biceps (focus, ava) tucked into loose pants reinforced at the knees, boots that are tougher than normal but lighter than those you would typically wear in combat — ones she prefers when fighting because it allows her quiet, stealth, full range of motion. 'trying on new armor,' she says, and if it was years ago, the spike of anger that starts in your gut and shoots up your spine — anger, and sheer panic — would have set the halo off.

jillian looks between the two of you — your fists clenched; beatrice's arms crossed over her chest — and says, 'well, i'll be looking over some specs in... another room,' and excuses herself.

wisely.

it hits you, all at once, when you look at beatrice — your fiance, your life partner — that, right now, maybe more than ever, she looks like a soldier. it's not been lost on you over the years, not with her nightmares and the quiet, chronic pain she bears with little more than a tender wince some mornings, the way she loses herself after loud noises or too many people in a crowd, her usually steady hands trembling — it's not been lost on your that beatrice has been fighting for a long time.

'you can't seriously be telling me you're not going to stop.'

'i'm fine, ava. i was cleared by my surgeon and my physical therapist to return to all normal activities.'

you're so used to gentleness, now, even with demons to fight on occasion and the lingering affects of a holy war too great to fully comprehend. you're used to beatrice's loose cotton crewnecks you like to steal; the rust-colored linen pants she loves, light in the breeze off the water. you're used to her whining for posterity about couples halloween costumes, her afternoon naps with her kitten purring on her chest softly. you're used to dates she plans meticulously that you don't even try to mess up because she's so intentional with how she loves you, full of thought and care. you're used to your big house on the beach and her laugh in the afternoon, the freckles on her shoulders, her hand in yours.

'i don't understand.' you release your fists with the progressive muscle relaxation you've worked on in therapy, then take a deep breath. 'you — you want to keep fighting?'

you're the one who changed her dressings after surgery, who took her to months and months of painful and slow-going, steady physical therapy. you're the one who washed her short hair with the gentlest hands you could, even that hurting the bone bruise along the back of her skull. you're the one who filled the prescriptions for her pain meds, who held her hand when she woke up. you're the one who loves her the most. you're the one who thought she was going to die.

'i —' she seems at a loss, for a moment, and then, 'it's my duty.'

'your duty?' it comes out shrill; so much for your muscle relaxation. 'beatrice.'

she clenches her jaw.

'you're telling me that you're, what, just fine getting fitted for new armor because your last vest got punctured by shrapnel and almost killed you?'

'ava.' it's a warning, and a tired one — exhausted from over a decade. 'you're still fighting.'

'i don't have a choice.' you hate yelling but you're overwhelmed by the idea of having to go through what you did again and again. 'don't you want — don't you want to choose?'

she swallows and leans back against the counter. 'if i —' she shakes her head.

'bea.'

'i — i can't.'

'i want to live,' you tell her, an echo of one of the first things you knew years and years ago, and her lower lip trembles. 'for so long i have wanted to live so badly, bea.'

'i know.' her voice is laced with unshed tears.

'i — do you want to?'

she sniffles and tilts her head back to look at the ceiling; it's a sure tell she's trying to compose herself but you can see her shaking, holding it in. 'i never thought i would.'

you step toward her, wait until she offers her hand. you lace your fingers together and wait. 'did you want to?'

'i didn't think — i didn't think i deserved to. i didn't think that me living a good life would be nearly as valuable as, well —'

'dying young in a blaze of glory for god?'

it takes her a moment, because it's the hardest thing in the world to hold, this grief, but then she laughs a watery little sound. 'something like that.'

'okay, but — do you want to now?'

it hangs heavy in the air. you know that she goes to therapy faithfully and you've seen her cry multiple times watching the sunset; she touches you like a benediction. but the answer is impossible to come by, sometimes — worthiness, and belief. 'who am i, ava, if not... this?'

you remember a book you'd read a few months ago, one of mary's favorites, that had made you cry often — where does it all lead? what will become of us? these were our young questions, and young answers were revealed. it leads to each other. we become ourselves. it's easy, to kiss the faithful gold band on her ring finger and then take her in your arms, put a protective hand to the back of her head. 'you're a fucking miracle,' you pray into her skin. 'you're the love of my life. you're a genius, and a black belt, and someone who avidly watches reality tv and tennis, only one of which is worthy of that kind of devotion.' you feel her laugh, snotty, into your shoulder. 'you're so pretty, and so handsome, and really funny when you want to be and sometimes even when you don't. you're remarkably forgiving; an incredible friend, a wonderful sister. you're someone who surfs because the ocean is beautiful and you want to see the sunrise. you're a very hot lesbian, and you're my fiance, and you're going to be my wife. you're my life partner. you give the world so much more than it has ever, ever deserved.' you both back up, just so you can look into her eyes. you hold her face in your hands, as gently as you can, run your thumb along a cheekbone, the constellation of freckles there that have bloomed in the sun by the sea. 'you will always serve the world, i know that about you. you're a child of god,' you say. 'you're beatrice.'

it doesn't surprise you when she kisses you gently and then tucks her face into your neck and lets out a full body sob. you rub her back through it, hold her up when her legs grow weak. eventually, as she always does, she calms and composes herself, steps back and dries her tears, runs a hand along her hair. her eyes are red but she takes a deep, steadying breath.

'thank you.'

you kiss her cheek. 'you're also my favorite.'

'now that i do know.'

you grin. 'don't get me wrong, like, fuck the military industrial complex obviously, but this is kind of a look.'

she rolls her eyes but her shoulders settle and then she looks at you seriously. 'i want to live a long life.'

'yeah?'

'so badly.'

'it's a little scary, right?'

she lets out a shaky, honest breath. 'yeah.'

'well, we'll figure it out.' you kiss her, the first of a kind stretching out ahead of you, infinite. 'i have an idea?'

she sighs, and you can't help but laugh.

(you watch her slice a plum on the shore of the lake in the alps you used to train at all those years ago, the lake you knelt down in front of her and she agreed to be your wife. the fruit is juicy and a color you can't quite bring yourself to comprehend: blood, your favorite sangria at the beach, natal dahlias. the house you stay at now — a few quiet days before you head home — is small and gorgeous, with a giant bed and a wall of windows that overlook the mountains. i love you here, you tell her — i love you like this; i love you however you are meant to be — i love you in peacetime, and you watch her slice a plum, the juice red and sticky on her fingers. she puts it to your mouth gently and the taste explodes like a kiss. she smiles and you feed her too; she sucks your finger into her mouth and you close your eyes — there will be time enough to touch her later. the water is calm, and the flowers are in bloom, and the sun shines bright.)

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #butch bea 🥺🫡#jillian getting tf out of there lmfao #mostly brought to you by the overwhelming RED of the plums that have been in season in socal lately #& the accidental sincere ending to the lilith pov prompt fill lmao 'i want to live a long life'#whew! wild!

173 notes · View notes

whereserpentswalk · 1 month

Text

You live on a planet which is being affected by a plague that rots people's bodies away. All the other human governments in the area have prevented anyone from coming or going to your planet so the virus won't spread. At this point the illness has effected every living human on the planet.

As your bodies rot they slowly have to be replaced with mechanical parts. The parts people get don't pass for human at all, but they do their job, despite being very obviously metal. In pervious stages of the plague people looked down on those with the illness, but now even world leaders have it.

Everyone's waiting to slowly lose their humanity. People try their best to experience things before losing more of their bodies. It's one thing when people have to have things like hands and feet replaced (useally the first parts to go), but it gets deeper and deeper until you're barely human any more.

You think about the last time you'll eat. It makes you apricate your food more. You look at your stainless steel arm and it doesn't look like part of your body, it used to just be your hand that was that way, now it's up to your shoulder. You've seen the wraithlike silvery creatures thar have lost everything, with skeleton like metal bodies and gas mask like faces, you don't know if you should pity or fear them, you see those glowing yellow eyes on the street more and more.

When you have sex with your partner you do it knowing you're slowly losing your ability to do that. Every time you sleep with them it becomes harder and harder. Until you don't have enough flesh to do anything sexual, and then eventually even cuddling and hugging becomes hard when it's just steel rubbing agaisnt steel. You'll never feel that intimacy again, you'll never touch them that way again. You're still together, but all you can do is say nice things to eachother, and treat eachother nicely.

The last thing you lose is your ability to sleep. It means everything is finally gone. You're still you, you still have your personality and memories, but you're not a biological organism anymore, you're not even alive. It's hard to look at yourself in the mirror, your slender wraithlike body, your gas mask like face, it doesn't read as you, you want to see your face but you can't. You feel like your drowning now that you don't breath, like you need to rip open your neck to rip the metal away.

As time goes on your new body becomes more normal to you. The last biological humans are gone, and the blockade ended. New citizens are built out of the same parts they used to replace your bodies, meaning they're born without ever having been human. You don't think of yourself as human. You have this life now. You like your body, you've added paint to your steel plates to personalize your appearance more, and it's been decades since you saw your old face. You'll never age, you might never die. This is just how life is for you now.

19 notes · View notes

nicoline1998enilocin · 7 months

Note

"Friends/coworkers to lovers" with rdj x female!reader, you decide the path, just fluff or fluff/smut... but like my nonnie friend, "I want to live the cliche of cliches" with the most precious, kind and gentle human being in the world 🥺

Precious

PAIRING | Robert Downey Jr. x Assistant!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 3.1K

SUMMARY | Your girl's night turns unexpectedly when you accidentally butt-dial your boss, Robert, and he hears you confess your feelings towards him. Ever since that moment, he's trying to impress you every chance he gets, and when you finally talk about it with him, your life just turns out perfect.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. RPF, coworkers to lovers, mutual pining, swearing, accidental butt-dialing, jealous RDJ, smut ( a little bit of teasing, fingering, protected sex ).

A/N | Thank you for this sickeningly sweet request Nonnie, because I believe I've pulled almost all of the clichés out of the closet for this one heheh, but my goodness, was it a fun one to write! I hope you will enjoy what I did with this one 🖤

A/N 2.0 | I want to give extra special thanks to @buckys-wintersoldier for helping me develop ideas for this one! It's always great to work together; this one turned out amazing because of you!

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Robert Downey Jr. Masterlist

''Here you go,'' you say to your best friend, Avery, as you hand her a glass of white wine. Tonight is your night off, and you plan on having an uninterrupted girl's night with her.

''Thank you! I needed this after the week I've had,'' she groans as you let yourself sink into your couch, your glass in hand. She tells you all about her breakup - the reason she visited you in the first place.

''So, is there anything new in your love life?'' Avery asks, and you sigh as you shuffle in your place a little bit, and unbeknownst to you, you accidentally butt-dial Robert.

''Precious? Is everything okay? You know it's your day off-'' Robert says, but of course, you don't hear him, but he can hear everything you're saying though.

''So... you know my boss, Robert. Who doesn't know him?! But that's beside the point. Well, I've been in love with him for the bigger part of a year?'' you phrase it as a question, even though you know damn well it's true.

''But...?'' Avery asks.

''But I'm afraid that if I tell him, he'll fire me, and I'd be left without a job,'' you sigh. Robert feels his heart hurt slightly at the thought that you'd even think he'd fire you. You're the best assistant he could ever wish for, and he would never find anyone better than you. Not that he'd want to, of course.

''I'm sure he would never do that; you've been his assistant for nearly a decade!'' Avery says, and you know she's right, but it still doesn't change your thoughts.

Robert feels a little twang in his chest as he hears the way you think, and he's already planning on ways to make you feel better and make a move at the same time.

You sigh softly before taking a big gulp of your wine and closing your eyes for a second so that you can think about your options.

''I've been thinking about talking to him since I practically tell him every single thing, but telling him I've been head over heels with him, that I can't fucking think straight, and all I can think about is him bending me over the back of the couch and just rail me like there's no tomorrow,'' you say, and Avery just nods.

''And the worst of all is that he invited me as his date to a charity event, and my stupid brain somehow can't comprehend that it's just an evening of work and not an actual date,'' you vent.

''Babe, you should talk to him about this because this isn't healthy! I am one hundred percent sure you won't lose your job if you do; he's a reasonable man,'' Avery says, and after hearing those words, Robert hangs up, feeling guilty that he kept listening for so long.

If only he kept listening...

''You're right; it's just that I'm afraid of losing him more than my job. I can easily find another job anywhere else, but I will never find another Robert...'' you say before throwing back the rest of your wine and quickly filling it up with more.

The rest of the evening is spent gossiping until you're both too tired to keep your eyes open, so Avery decides to sleep over at your apartment just to be safe. She doesn't tell you she doesn't want you to be alone right now.

''Hi, Precious!'' Robert says as he's walking over to you, as you're seated in a coffee shop where the two of you are taking some time to catch up about non-work related things.

''Hi Robert,'' you say with a big smile as he sits down, and you push his coffee order towards him, together with a pastry for the two of you to share.

''What would I ever do without you?'' he says, and the smile he gives you has the butterflies in your stomach erupting into a frenzy, and your heart skips a few beats here and there as you take in his praise.

A smile tugs on the corner of your lips, and you can't stop commenting.

''Let's hope we'll never find out!'' you say as you shut your laptop; you can continue looking at dresses for the charity event Robert has invited you to attend alongside him.

He gives you a smirk as he looks at the same bit of hair that constantly falls into your face, and when Robert leans over to tuck it behind your ear, your brain shortcircuits for a few moments.

Your mouth is slightly open as you feel his fingers on your temple and behind your ear before softly sliding against your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

When you snap back to reality, you gasp softly and blink a few times, unsure of what just happened, and you're pretty sure Robert noticed, but he didn't comment on it. It was not like he did it on purpose or anything like that.

''So, anything new in your life?'' Robert asks, and you quickly shake your head, maybe too soon for your liking.

''Still the same things, same people, same stress,'' you sigh as you try to give a small smile, hoping he's convinced and not as weirded out as you are.

''Been looking at dresses for the charity event though, so that's exciting,'' you quickly add, and your mind immediately wanders to a few beautiful dresses you've seen.

''Anything interesting so far?'' he informs because he plans to match with you for the evening, mainly because he's thinking about confessing his feelings to you that night.

''I've seen some nice ones, but nothing that stood out yet, actually,'' you say, though you can think of one dark blue dress that you can't get out of your head despite it being way out of your price range, even with the ungodly amount of money Robert pays you as his assistant.

''Can I see? I'm just curious what you're thinking at the moment,'' he says, and he gets up, only to slide onto the bench next to you, letting his thigh touch yours in a move that's innocent enough.

''A-Are you... sure?'' you ask, and he nods, so you grab your laptop and show him some of the dresses you've been eyeing, expertly avoiding the blue dress.

''Hm, I don't think I've seen the perfect one yet,'' Robert says, and you show him more until you need to use the restroom so when you're gone, he opens the tab you've been avoiding this whole time and snaps a quick photo as a reminder to order it for you, later.

The rest of the afternoon is spent catching up, and before you know it, it's time to go home again and go to bed early since you have some stressful days coming up.

Robert drops you off at home, and as soon as you set foot in your apartment, you sigh deeply, glad you made it through another day without completely embarrassing yourself in front of your boss.

Today's the charity event day, and you're in the shower to prepare for tonight. After a short run and a call with Robert about everything going down tonight, you're finally letting the warm stream of water calm your mind.

You opted to go for a silver floor-length dress so Robert will always look gorgeous no matter what color he chooses to wear, and he notified you he would be going for a blue outfit, which would fit beautifully with your dress.

After an extensive shower and an excellent hair and face mask, you're getting ready to grab a late lunch, so you won't have to worry about having dinner later than usual.

When you're about to make yourself a nice BLT sandwich, your doorbell rings, and you head over, unsure what to expect when you open the door.

When you swing the door open, there isn't anyone in front of the door, but instead, your gaze falls onto a large package on the floor, sporting a small note on the box saying ''Precious''.

You pick up the package and take it inside, placing it on your dinner table before opening it. You don't need to wonder who it is from because only one person calls you that.

As you lift the lid, you're greeted by the dark blue dress you couldn't afford and a shoe box with the Louboutin logo on the box. Your heart starts racing, and you immediately grab your phone to call Robert.

You decide to FaceTime him, and before he can even get a single word in, you're already talking and thanking him endlessly.

''Robert, how did you even know this is the dress I've been wanting so badly? And combined with these shoes, it's honestly too much; I don't deserve this...'' you say as you fight back tears, even if they're from enjoyment and happiness.

''You deserve to be spoiled occasionally, especially on a night like tonight. There is a huge chance not a single person will be able to take their eyes off of you, and I would love to show you off to everyone tonight,'' he says, and after some more convincing, you agree to wear it.

Robert will be arriving at the party before you, so he arranged for a car to pick you up and bring you to the party before going to his house after the party so you can sleep over there.

Your hair is done in a big bun to show off the dress, and the make-up look is in a similar shade of blue to compliment your clothing without looking like you're overpowering on the blue.

When the car arrives, you grab your silver handbag to finish the look, and you're off to the charity event, where Robert will be tonight as one of the guest speakers.

Your timing could not have been better because when you get out of the car, you see Robert on the red carpet as he's giving an interview, but he stops in the middle of his sentence when he sees you.

''Oh wow! She looks beautiful! That's my amazing assistant, everyone, and without a doubt, the most beautiful woman to walk this red carpet today,'' he says, and you can't help but feel a blush creep onto your cheeks.

''Hi Precious, you look gorgeous tonight,'' he says before pulling you to his side and kissing your cheek.

''You look amazing, too, Robert. If we didn't know any better, we would think you two matched on purpose!'' the interviewer said, and after that, the interview carried on as it was supposed to.

After the formal part of the evening, you walk over to the bar, ready to get a drink, and get stopped by a handsome man you recognize as Sebastian Stan.

''Hey, are you enjoying yourself tonight?'' he asks sincerely before ordering a drink and getting yours.

''I am! What about you?'' you ask, and you two get wrapped up in conversation for a while, so you don't notice Robert keeping an eye on you.

When Sebastian comes closer to whisper something in your ear, Robert suddenly appears by your side, ready to whisk you away right that very second.

''Can I talk to you for a moment, Precious?'' Robert asks impatiently, and you're immediately worried that something went wrong.

''It was good talking to you, Sebastian,'' you say before following Robert, and he said his goodbyes before ordering another drink and moving on with the rest of the evening.

''We should get out of here because I want to tell you something, and I'd rather not do it with all these people here,'' Robert says, and you nod in response, afraid of what's coming next.

Robert just walked you into his house, and you're sitting on his couch, impatient for what's to come. He grabs both of you a drink before sitting beside you, and you turn to face him.

''So... uhm-'' he starts, flustered before he even tells you about his feelings, let alone how he knows you share those with him.

''I'm just going to get it over with. When you were having girls' night with your best friend, you accidentally butt-dialed me, and I could hear you two talking. That means I heard your confession and must tell you I feel the same. I have felt the same for quite a long time, and when I knew you felt the same, I tried to go above and beyond to make you feel nothing short of special. I hope you will at least have one night with me, where I can show you how much,'' he says, and your mouth has fallen open after ''butt dialed''.

''A-Are you... I mean- Really? This isn't some sick joke, right? Because I would love nothing more than to spend the night and show you how much I love you, how much I've loved you for such a long time.''

After downing your drink in one go, you put your glass on the table and sit closer to Robert, and you let him cup your face with his big, warm hands as he pulls you in for the softest, most loving kiss you've ever shared with another human being.

When he pulls away, you keep your eyes closed, and your lip is pulled between your teeth to temper your excitement slightly.

''Want to move this party to the bedroom?'' you ask softly after you open your eyes, and you look into Robert's sparkling brown eyes as he nods before getting up.

When you're in the bedroom and seated on the edge of the bed, Robert turns on some slow jazz music to set the mood, and oddly enough, it's very calm instead of the heated night you expected.

''I want to make tonight special, Precious. I don't know how many more nights together we'll have, so I want to make the most of the one we have now,'' he says as he grabs your hands and guides you up so you're standing before him.

When you're up, his hands glide into your hair as he pulls you closer, his mouth finding you effortlessly and molding them to yours as if they're made for one another.

Your hands wander from Robert's chest up to his shoulder to take off his jacket, and when he pulls away, he shrugs it off, followed suit by his shirt that you've unbuttoned as well.

''Turn around, Precious,'' he whispers in your ear before placing a soft kiss beneath the shell, his scruff tickling you ever so slightly to make a giggle escape.

''You like it when I kiss you, don't you?'' Robert teases, and you nod swiftly while his hands glide down to the zipper of your dress, making you smile wide as he reveals the dark blue lingerie you're wearing.

You spin around slowly as he looks you up and down, and you pull your lip between your teeth again.

''That's my job now, Precious; I'm the only one who gets to bite this beautiful lip of yours,'' he says before capturing your lips again and nibbling softly on your bottom lip like he said he would.

After both getting completely naked, Robert guides you onto the bed, ensuring you're comfortable while littering kisses all over your chest and around your nipples, letting his hand glide over your thigh as he gets settled between them.

''You're perfect, Precious, and I can't wait to find out what it's like to come home,'' he whispers as he reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing a condom.

It's rolled on quickly, and after a few swipes through your folds, he finds your clit, rubbing it in short circles, which makes your breath hitch.

''R-Robert, please,'' you beg softly, and he listens without teasing as he's lining up with your entrance and sliding in slowly, letting you adjust to him.

A deep moan leaves your body, and your back arches off the bed as he slides in every so perfectly, and you're feeling somewhere north of heaven right now.

''I wish I'd told you years earlier... We got a lot to catch up on, Precious, because I'm not letting you go after tonight,'' Robert says as his warm breath ghosts over your lips before placing them on yours as he makes such slow, sweet love.

It doesn't take long for both of you to fall apart around each other, and if it were any other night, you'd have taken the opportunity to keep going until there's no more time, but this feels perfect.

When he's cleaned both of you up, he pulls you into his arms, and you talk for a little while before you fall asleep, still naked, but you don't mind. You've never felt more comfortable with Robert than you do now.

The following day, Robert slipped out of bed a little earlier and ordered some flowers from a local florist before preparing breakfast for you.

When you wake up, you notice Robert's not next to you, but you grab the shirt he wore last night and put it on with your panties before heading downstairs, where the smell of breakfast fills your senses.

''Mornin', Precious,'' he says as you walk into the kitchen with messy hair and his shirt, flashing his biggest smile as he recalls last night. It was nothing short of perfect.

''Thank you for everything, Robert. Yesterday was amazing, and I can't wait for more moments like it,'' you say as you pull him closer for a kiss, something you wished you could have done long ago.

Just as he's about to respond, someone rings his doorbell, and he goes to answer the door with a little jog, getting a big bouquet of red roses from the delivery man and tipping him generously.

''I got you a little something this morning because I wanted to show you just how much you mean to me,'' Robert says as he walks in with a bouquet of nearly 50 red roses and hands them to you.

''Oh my god, these are amazing! Thank you so much,'' you say before leaning in for one more soft kiss, and then it's time for breakfast and a meaningful conversation.

''This may be odd, but... what are we now? After last night, after our confessions, I don't think I can go back to just being your assistant,'' you say as you cut up some pancakes with maple syrup, putting them into your mouth as you look expectantly at Robert.

''First of all, I'd love for you to keep your job, so please don't worry about that, but I was also hoping you would be my girlfriend because there's not a single chance I'm ever letting you go, Precious,'' Robert says with a sweet smile, and your heart feels like it's going wild.

''I'd love to be your girlfriend,'' you say, and you seal it with a kiss.

#robert downey jr #robert downey jr request #robert downey jr one shot #robert downey jr fanfiction #robert downey jr fanfic #robert downey jr x female reader #robert downey jr x reader #robert downey jr fluff #rdj #rdj request #rdj one shot #rdj fanfiction #rdj fanfic #rdj x female reader #rdj x reader #rdj fluff

48 notes · View notes

lover-of-mine · 26 days

Note

I fully agree that it was a lot to have buck hurt eddie like that. Like I get why they did it cause let's be real if eddie had been able to walk it wouldn't have been Tommy at buck's door but I wish they'd go about it in another way...

On another note, do you think buck will analyse his whole relationship with his family and friends with his new found discovery (I still can't believe we have bi buck still feeling shaky omg) and also im sure you've gotten something similar asked but I kinda would like a reassurance well as close to one as I can get, but do you think that means we are headed toward buddie? Or will they be like hey at least you get this kinda thing?

Thank you for your posts they've been great and like I feel we all lived through this together and I'm thankfull for your takes :)

This is actually the first time I thought about them hurting Eddie as a plot device to stop him from reaching out occurred to me. I see it, I don't like it, but I see it.

Okay, yeah, I kinda think he will, finding out you're bisexual as an adult, specially when Buck did as well with women as he does, will be some cause for panic (I say this as someone who was good with men and only found out she was bi as an adult) about particular reactions of people around him (kinda terrified what this means for him with his parents about to come into town) because even if you know some of the people who love you will be supportive, is still a scary experience, even more if you've been trying to find this one thing about yourself for decades, so, yeah, I do believe he will be forced to reevaluate a lot of stuff in his life, and Tim and Oliver seem to be ready to try and tell this story right and I am super interested to see how this will go (I can't believe Bi Buck is real, it literally rewired my brain, I might be losing my mind because I need to sleep because I've been up for who knows how long because every time I try to sleep my brain goes BUCK IS BI and then I start freaking out about again)

I know a lot of you come to me for the logical side of it all to get some reassurance and I love that I can be this person, really, especially in moments like this, so, I love that you came here 🫶. But the buddie of it all, I don't see why they would make Buck queer and not go there with Buck and Eddie. I maintain what I've been saying, that the loft scene is gonna tell us if they are turning up the heat or if we are keeping the energy we had so far while Buck explores his own feelings about being bisexual, even more if we are gonna get 2 for 2 and they are planning on making Eddie demi (god imagine if they actually put a character like Eddie in the ace spectrum, I would die), because then you can use a Buck who's settled into being bisexual to drag the realization from Eddie, because this can cascade into Buck realizing what he's looking for is what he has with Eddie, and since men are an option now, he could look at their relationship and be like "oh so I needed to figure out that I like men, for me to realize that the love I want is with this man" and then trying to figure out if Eddie could feel the same about him, and Eddie having his own queer arc about how no one has felt as right as Shannon because he needs a deeper connection that he does have with Buck and them going there. Buck being bi puts at least halfway there on the road to canon buddie, because now it is an actual canon possibility that Buck will develop, or find out he already has feelings for Eddie. Especially with how intertwined with the discovery with Tommy, Eddie is. Everything that points to Tommy, points to Eddie if Buck just looks to the right, yk? Obviously the showrunners and actors will keep saying there's no plan, and they are seeing where it's going, but if they handle the next episode well, just sit back and enjoy, because they're cooking. They could've made Buck bi be only about Tommy, but they didn't, they made a very intense point of adding Eddie to the mix so I will continue to believe they have a plan and this is a slow burn that's gonna happen, because I honestly, even more now with canon confirmation that Buck is bi, I think it's the only way to look at them, yk? I don't see why they wouldn't go there now that they are not hiding behind the "they are both straight" excuse. And personally, as a writer, I think it would be a waste of a setup not to go there now that we know they can go there.

#im sorry its hard to be coherent rn #my brain is legit fuzzy kapakpkapakaoaa #i hope this js reassuring enough #911 #911 spoilers #i really need a tag for asks #anon 😌

17 notes · View notes

loverboy-havocboy · 2 days

Note

Are we doing closet cloneshipper confessions here? If so, hi

I've been in the tumblr fandom communities for over a decade and joined the sw community right before the last season of tcw premiered. It legit never occurred to me that anyone would have an issue with clonecest - spn was still running and wincest was like the second most popular ship there so it seemed like standard fanfic fodder until the antis had a huge meltdown a few months later and drove half the people I followed out of fandom completely.

And then tbb started and some of the same people who had such an issue with clonecest decided they hated all of tbb too. I was beyond pissed at that point so I started a little tbb side blog to spite them. I didn't really have any tbb cloneships at the time so I sorta ended up with a non-ship tbb blog by accident and it got a lot bigger for me than the original page and now I have friends through that who are def not fans of the cloneshipper life and have no idea that I ship.

At first it was fine because my ships were totally separate from tbb anyway but lately I've really been feeling the crosshunt feels and I don't feel like I can say anything about it at this point, you know? It feels like I've been lying even though that wasn't my intent at all - it really just didn't come up as an issue until now. If someone had asked me if I ship clones, I would have said so straight up but no one ever did and now I'm afraid to be the one to bring it up.

I don't care what rando antis say to me. They have no power over me. But I don't want to lose my friends over it. I don't know how they'd react. I know they don't like clonecest and I'd never ask them to participate in something they don't ship but I genuinely don't know if they'd be more ship and let ship about it or if they'd insta block me for it. I want to think they'd be cool about it but some people who seemed so reasonable before got so out of control when the anti clonecest purge went down before so I don't know what to think.

oh anon, i'm sorry. i will give you my 2 cents but i am just a little guy, ykwim?

i think it would be so hard to lose friendships you've cultivated over such a period of time, people you care about. but at the same time.. are they the kind of people you're sure you want to be friends with if you're so afraid to voice an opinion about fictional characters? i mean, cloneshipping isn't even a real life moral issue, as much as antis want to treat it like one. if they turn on you for that.. they'd probably turn on you for something equally superficial eventually, right?

so i think engaging in things that make you happy will make your life better than trying to please judgemental people in the long run.

#ask havoc #cloneshipping #antis #the anti saga

9 notes · View notes

smartycvnt · 6 months

Text

Choices

Title: Choices

Pairing: Bianca x Reader

Word Count: 1099

Y/n knew what the cars parked on the street were for. She had recently moved back to her home village in Italy afer running away nearly 20 years ago. Bianca had been the Don's right hand woman, which should have painted a large target on her back, but Y/n knew better than to expect her to be dead.

The Don cared for Bianca better than he had some of his blood. He treated Bianca like his daughter, and for a time, that had been extended to Y/n. She hadn't waited around the village to see what would happen to her after their breakup. More important people had been knocked off for less, and Y/n wasn't going to take those chances.

"Wait outside," Y/n heard Bianca say through the door. It was always cracked or partially open, but when Bianca entered Y/n's store, she shut it completely. The two women stood alone in the establishment staring each other down in silence for several minutes before Y/n spoke up.

"What the hell do you think you are doing here? I have a strict no mafia policy," Y/n told her. Bianca wouldn't have taken such hostility from just anybody, but she believed it was warranted for Y/n. Y/n could have pulled a gun on her, and Bianca wouldn't have put up a fight.

"It's been a long time," Bianca said.

"Not long enough," Y/n scoffed. Bianca crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at Y/n. It had been two decades since their falling out, but nobody had ever held a grudge like Y/n. Bianca cautiously took a step towards the counter that Y/n was standing behind. "Why have you come here, Bianca?"

"Because I wanted to see you. I wanted to make sure that you've been good to yourself in the ways that I wasn't. I've missed you, Y/n." It was rare for Bianca to put her heart on the line like that with any amount of honesty behind it, but Y/n knew that Bianca wasn't trying to pull anything. Still, it was hard to even begin to think about forgiving her. Bianca had made her choice, and Y/n wasn't it.

"I took some time away, but I think I started to undo the harm you had caused," Y/n told her. Bianca's face fell for a moment, but she was quick to hide it.

"You have always been a little cruel," Bianca noted.

"I didn't say that to be mean. I never said or did anything like that to you, and you're a goddamn liar if you say otherwise." Y/n took a step back to try and cool off, but it was difficult with Bianca standing right across from her. Bianca had always been a very heated topic for Y/n, even before they had broken up. Back then, however, all of Y/n's intensity had been her desire and passion for the woman burning hot.

"I know. I made a choice that I am still paying for. If you only let me say one more thing, let it be that it wasn't worth losing you," Bianca said. Y/n clenched her jaw as Bianca's words hit her like a punch to the gut. Twenty years Y/n had waited to hear Bianca say that, but it didn't feel nearly as good as she had hoped it would.

"Get out. Get out!" Y/n shouted. Bianca flinched and complied with Y/n's order. Y/n sat down on the stool behind the counter as she tried to calm her heart. It felt worse to be alone with her feelings and newfound knowledge than it had to be there with Bianca. Y/n grit her teeth and tried to move on, but Bianca's words echoed in the back of her head for weeks with no end in sight.

Y/n felt like she was losing the last shreds of her sanity. It was not an easy decision to go see Bianca after everything, but it was a choice that Y/n felt she had to make. She needed to forgive Bianca and accept whatever that meant for them moving forward. From what Y/n had heard, Bianca had never really even tried to settle down after Y/n left. There had been a good line of lovers that would leave Bianca's little guest house at the villa over the years, but nobody ever stayed more than a couple of nights.

"It's been a long time since I've been here," Y/n said as she walked around the villa with Bianca. The woman had been in the vineyard where the grapes were being harvested. Y/n had been surprised when Bianca welcomed her presence with open arms, especially after how hostile Y/n had been earlier.

"Things have changed for the better. Kristen is a great leader," Bianca said. Their conversation felt safe and casual, but all wrong to Y/n. "I am surprised that you've come all this way. I thought you'd never come back here after what happened."

"You made your own choice that day like I have made a choice today. Bianca, I have spent too long being angry with you for that, and I am done. It's exhausting, and I'd just like to live the rest of my life in peace. So, I came here today to tell you that you are forgiven," Y/n said. Bianca clutched her chest as she looked at Y/n. It was surprising to say the very least.

"Thank you for your forgiveness. I know that wasn't easy for you, and I want you to know that I still hold love for you. I will always hold a special place in my heart for you. You are the first person outside of my family that I have ever truly loved," Bianca admitted. It was the only thing that Y/n had wanted to hear for years. She was overcome with emotions and her next actions were rash to say the least. Y/n stopped walking and turned to grab the collar of Bianca's shirt. Bianca knew what she was going for immediately and pressed forward to close the distance between the two of them.

"This doesn't mean that you are back in my good graces," Y/n said as she broke the kiss. Bianca nodded as she leaned in for another kiss, which Y/n happily granted her.

"I will do everything I can to earn your love back," Bianca promised Y/n.

#one shot #my writing #mafia mamma x reader #mafia mamma #bianca x reader #bianca

19 notes · View notes

cowboy-garfield · 1 year

Note

wait, have you ever seen the larry evidence? these men are still writing songs about each other and fake dating women?? even if they’re not together now, they’re closeted. many ex-boy band members have come forward with their own experiences of being forced to hide their sexuality (i.e., lance bass, ricky martin)

LMAO IS THIS A TROLL ARE Y'ALL FUCKING WITH ME... this is one of my friends isn't it hsjdkghsk /j

Dude I hate to break it to you, but you've picked the wrong Rango to tango with. My irl friend has been studying the larrie conspiracy DEEPLY for more a year now out of morbid fascination, and I've been along for the entire ride. We're losing our shit on the phone as I type this. I made that brba post referencing the black mold thing before it even broke 200 notes. I know about your rainbow bears and tattoos and babygates and 28.

If you've got something to throw at me, give me your best shot. I'm already in the belly of the beast with your so-called "evidence." And I've never seen a bigger crock of parasocial copium and sunk cost fallacy in my LIFE.

Genuinely idk if this is someone fucking with me, but if you seriously obsess over and speculate and state personal details about real people as if they're factual... then you seriously need to reevaluate your life. Not only is it unhealthy, but it's just weird as hell.

You don't know these people, and they don't know you. They're grown ass multimillionaires who can do whatever the fuck they want.

Hell—they've been involved in WORSE scandals than if they were merely to come out, but y'all probably wouldn't acknowledge any of that to save your life—because then they wouldn't be your little victimized uwu boys. The victimization angle is very important to the agenda I've noticed, because if you tell yourself you're always on the defense (or that someone else is attacking you/whoever you're shipping), you're free from having to self reflect. You're the victims, so why would you need to?

Here is the real kicker though. The real nitty gritty. Even if it came out that these guys WERE closeted, it would still be weird and unhealthy!!

It's genuinely difficult for me to even say any of this, because I've seen the decade-long trips these people go on, and i know how insanely detached from reality they get. But in the simplest terms, it's not your fucking business.

Loving someone's songs, being a fan, buying their merch, streaming their music, or hell—even just liking them as people (which is fine within reason, just like anything)—none of these are qualifiers that give you permission to speculate the details of someone's personal life. There are no qualifiers. At all.

Everyone is entitled to privacy, and no amount of fan devotion gives you a magic coupon owing you those private matters. It doesn't even give you the right to speculate on them. Re: the Heartstoppers actor outing incident. You are not a special fan, and you are not owed anything. Especially when there are thousands and thousands of people who also think they're special fans who just "really get the guy."

Even if that's not what this original ask was specifically saying, that's what the whole culture around this bullshit claims. It's implied. "I'm in the special secret circle of people who know what's Really going on! God our boys need us to support them through this separation so bad :'( It must be so hard for them, I can't imagine. Thank god I'm the one seeing their Obvious signals. Thank god they have me. Those non-believers are just homophobic sheep; I'm the only one who really cares."

The only thing you people have done for them (other than adding half a decimal point to their mountainous bottom lines) is ruin their friendships and lives.

Try to imagine having every minute detail of your life documented and analyzed by people you don't know. Imagine all this invasion is being used to prove a lie about your intimate personal life, which you cannot make them stop believing because of the narrative they've already committed to. Imagine your every denial being 'just more proof.' Imagine your child, girlfriend, wife, being sent death threats daily for years. Imagine having everything from your body language to your cousins' instagram likes to your fucking shopping clothes be scanned for "clues." Everything.

Now imagine that same ferocious invasion extends to every friend, partner, family member, and random ass person you stand next to for five minutes--everyone you will ever meaningfully interact with. That's the fucking pain of theirs I can't imagine; not some made up fucking ship fic about how "the big mean suits are keeping the gay babies down ;("

I can't imagine it. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. And I honestly admire their decorum about it. Because if I was in that position long enough to not lose my fucking mind, you bet your ass I would go harder than this:

But who am I kidding. All these sources are just more false flags from HQ, aren't they? When you invent a boogeyman who doesn't exist—when you craft an entire fanfic ARG out of normal, meaningless occurrences—anything can just be waved offg. Anything can be proof, and anything can be lies from management. You're forever liberated from the shackles of critical thinking! How convenient.

I understand that this is a novel and a half for one ask, but don't mistake that as investment in convincing you. I fully realize I sound just like a redditor, but after more than a year of seeing this batshit, that brain fungus meme blowing up out of nowhere and bringing larries right to me? Oh god, that's ambrosia.

I have been confused, fascinated, and disgusted by this fandom for ages; it's like watching a car crash. Despite the length of this, it's never been worth my time enough to start fights with random blogs though. Most are so removed from reality that arguing would be pointless anyway; can't fight delusion with logic. If that worked, none of this would be happening in the first place. So having the opportunity to rip into this shit when it's been doordashed right to me is like crack. With a laughably confident ask to boot.

This isn't me being a tryhard; I know that so many Larries—especially the oddly large demographic of 30+y/o women—are beyond hope. They've put years up to the double digits into this narrative and likely had it impact their life negatively, which tends to happen when you obsess over a conspiracy. To admit defeat now—to accept reality; boring, thankless reality where they aren't the victims with a promised happy ending—would probably break their brains in half. (Not to mention the toxic hazing, doxxing, elitism, and witch hunts that occur in their own fandom. Don't think I don't know about that shit either.)

I say this with hedonistic glee: I wrote this shit for fun. I could have been working on final projects right now, but I wanted to do this instead. It's not so much wanting to be rude to you in particular as it is me ripping into HL fandom and celeb conspiracists in general. Sorry that your ask was the sacrificial lamb, anon, but I would also like to thank you for being on anon so I could go off without fear of people coming to harass you. If you're a naive fan who got indocrinated by other fans, sorry for the rude wake up call I guess, but tbh I'm not really holding my breath.

And let's knock out some allegations before they even start, shall we? I am not a homophobe. I am not saying celebrities aren't pushed to act a certain way or that abuse doesn't happen in the entertainment industry. I don't care about 1D (hell, half the time i can't tell them apart). RPF is at best, fucking weird and at worst, actively harmful. I think 1D's music is mid. I don't think their relationships are fake, nor do I think that WHOLE ASS CHILD is some random hired actor. As a lesbian, that guy couldn't be the janitor of the lesbians let alone the king. Fucking nobody irl talks about these guys. If they came out, it would be old news within a week. There is no Qanon-esque day of reckoning where they're going to come out and shut up all the #haters. There is no storyline; real life doesn't have those. Homophobia is bad, obviously. Regardless of my opinions on their music or crummy things they've done (which I don't even know much about since I don't care abt them aside from the Larrie craziness), I hate that this toxic fan bullshit has affected them negatively and that goes for any celebrity. This is a wider problem than just the 1D crowd; not even gonna touch beatles, tswift, or kpop. Reality has no clues like a fucking Columbo episode. Lastly, y'all aren't even special--said friend has unearthed at least five near-IDENTICAL rpf shipping conspiracies in everything from fifty shades of grey to olympic ice skating. And those aren't even gay, but they still give their fans secret symbols that they're being kept apart for Some Reason through clothing and special numbers.

Anyway. It's finals week and I have life shit to do. Larries, feel free to file this away in your 'Naysayers Who Will Be Proven Wrong Someday!' hoard. Briefly entertaining a reality where they do come out, guess what: I still don't give a shit. They're just two rich white dudes who make top 40 pop songs. Toxic parasocial fan behavior like this would still be just as weird and shitty as it is in our actual reality, where these guys have never openly declared dating anyone but women and verbally detest this shipping behavior.

I swear to God, it seems like most Larrie shippers don't even like the men that actually exist. That's the rub, isn't it? Reality sucks, but fantasy can be whatever you want it to be. All the things you like about these guys are authentic, and all the things you don't are just manipulation tactics by the puppetmaster marketing team. Forget the fact that they're fucking human beings and not dolls for your amusement or comfort.

You have no idea if they're fake dating women. You have no idea if they're closeted. You have no idea if the generic ass love songs they write are about each other. The truth none of you people realize is that you're probably never going to know, and if that just eats you up inside—good. That's your common sense trying to chew its way out of the cage of confirmation bias you locked it in.

#co-written and produced by my friend who is sadly only on twitter #shoutout sam #ask #larrie #larry #one direction #larry is real #harry styles #louis tomlinson #1D #larry stylinson #larry shippers #skit yells

138 notes · View notes

divorcingjimmatthews · 10 months

Text

general relationship hcs - jade x gn reader 🥰

just dumping some thoughts don't mind me too much. kind of a mix of s1 and s2 jade moods/vibes rather than at one specific point in time

if jade got together with someone while trapped in the town i don't think he would even consider it a relationship, he's still in a big "what the fuck even is this, this shit can't be fucking happening" mood

it would be more like, acquaintances with benefits, finding comfort in each other, etc, that kind of deal

eventually it would hit him like. am i neglecting my partner? can that even be a thing here? he'd dismiss the thought — he knows the best thing he can do for you is to find a way out

but since it's been bugging him, he won't say no if it's you who asks to do something more "normal", like going for a picnic or a swim and trying to relax

it wouldn't go well of course. he would try to hide the fact that he doesn't want to be there, for your sake, and then probably break down

"every single day that we waste not trying to find a way out may be the day that we die"

it just really fucks with him that people can act normal while their neighbors and friends are dying all around

he ends up leaving and you don't sort it out until you come back to the bar for the night once you've both calmed down

he takes your hand and he promises you that he'll take you to all the most wonderful places — once you get out

you're moved. you had no idea if he would even want to continue the relationship in the event that you were free to return to your old lives, and you were too afraid to ask

but you have to admit that you can't bring yourself to be as optimistic as he is. you've met people who have been here for years, decades even...

he gets where you're going. no, his method is not sustainable

but just the thought of a long-term stay in the town? oh, god. it's just unbearable to think about

you sit with him and you let him lean on your shoulder and you hold his hand. eventually he admits that you are right

you compromise. he doesn't see himself going on dates. it would make him lose his mind. but, he agrees to slow down

more sleep. other projects. setting some time aside to chat or read together before bedtime. making the place a bit nicer — he's got to know how to wire up some cute fairy lighting

you ask him if he really thinks that you'll be able to get out

he squeezes your hand and reassures you. he's not going to give up until you do. it helps convince you a little bit, too

you let him know you're taking his word for it, then. he's taking you everywhere. the nicest of places. all over the world

"just not any more small towns"

you laugh and repeat his words. just not any more small towns

#from epix #epix from #from mgm #from mgm+#from tv show #from tv series #from 2022 #jade herrera x reader

31 notes · View notes

spicesweet · 26 days

Note

tips on how to stay motivated in your fitness journey?

my first step was figuring out what "fitness journey" I truly wanted to take, which for me happened by accident. I tried lots of gyms over the years and I think the longest I've kept a membership was 9 months; I never fell in love with the process, hated going, hated the atmosphere, hated being seen all the time, hated having the trainers coming up to me and telling me what to do. I think a lot of people unfortunately go through this same issue and, when they can't get to that "honeymoon phase" with their gyms, they feel like fitness as a whole isn't for them; it was certainly that way for me, I thought I was just some fat lazy idiot doomed to never get better because I wasn't one of those girls who just looooove to get down to their neighborhood gym. but then when the pandemic came, and gyms weren't even an option, I decided to give yoga a try, and I discovered that yoga was the opposite of everything I hated about gyms: it was individual, quiet, at home, didn't require expensive equipment... and I finally fell in love with the whole thing. I was just barking up the wrong tree the whole time.

so the first tip is: don't be fooled into thinking that you need to get down to a gym and follow a personal trainer's routine to get fit. what matters is moving, so find what kind of movement makes you feel alive and delighted, what kind of movement really gets you going, and expand on that. if you insist on a method you don't like, you'll never be able to create a routine around it, to build a long-lasting relationship with it.

the second tip is to not consider it a X-months long commitment, but rather a lifestyle change. don't do fitness as a way to lose Y pounds in Z weeks because summer is coming or because you have a big party. people need to keep moving until they can't anymore, and you should consider a fitness routine as more than a means for a cosmetic change. sure, wanting to lose weight and change your shape is the champion of reasons why people get into it, but you need to move anyway regardless of whether or not you're satisfied with your body's appearance. treating movement and fitness as part of your lifestyle will make you more comprehensive and patient with the process, it'll ease anxiety, pressure and your inner saboteur, and make your goals more realistic, because rather than thinking you need to be hardcore for a couple of months to get to a certain result, you'll be aiming at a forever deal, and you'll understand that progress takes time.

another tip is: if you are in fact starting it due to being overweight and wanting to change that, don't expect change to come easy and fast, and don't expect to simply flick an internal switch that will magically make you not do any of the bad habits that turned you overweight (if your case is not genetic/pathological). if you've been a sedentary overeater for years, you won't suddenly become a salad-loving marathon-runner just because you got some nice hot yoga pants and pilates gear. it'll take a long time to re-shape your habits, your mindset, your routine, your body. I'm speaking fully from experience as someone who tried for a whole ass decade to go from sedentary overeater to little bird in a week, so trust me on that.

consistency is key, but also patience. you just have to bite the bullet on this one. if you don't get patient, you'll just burn out, give in to frustration and impulsiveness, and the results won't come.

and, I mean, this one is not really a tip because it's not as simple as choosing (which I also know from experience) but I'll say it anyway: starving doesn't work. starving is not a sustainable weight loss tool, starving is self-harm, plain and simple. there are girls reading this right now who are hurting from hunger pangs this very moment and still gaining; I follow a bunch of them and I see them struggling every single day with shame and horror as they step on a scale after 24+ hours of not eating and still see the number go up. if it was as simple as that, just shutting your mouth and not eating for days, honestly, edblr wouldn't be full of overweight and depressed girls. I'm not trying to be rude here, I'm literally just saying it how it is, from the perspective of someone who still struggles with disordered eating patterns and intrusiveness.

so to sum it up: find out what works for you ☆ be consistent but slow, steady, patient ☆ keep in mind that old habits die hard, but you can work hard too ☆ don't expect a malnourished and weak body and deeply depressed and stressed mind to be able to work hard ☆ all your efforts need to come from a place of love, because hate burns fast and ineffectively as I've written about here.

I hope this helps, and as usual, come back if you want to talk some more about it . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

15 notes · View notes

myfaveisfuckable · 4 months

Text

Tuvok:

Ok, first off: real world standards, he's not normal passing. Apart from the ears, he's just too autistic (sorry, "Vulcan" 🙄) to be considered "normal looking". He went to 1990s earth once and Did Not Pass as normal. But in universe, he would on the surface seem like a model Vulcan. And he is, kinda. But he's also so gd weird. (/aff)

Not even gonna get into how badly he wants to be Will Graham because obviously that's there too but we don't have all day. Anyway.

Obvs the emotions struggle is real as it is for any Vulcan worth paying attention to, if only because they were all only ever written by humans.

But also, tangential to him being Will Graham coded (but still separate enough) he is a total mind slut. You know how some characters will go "when I have a problem, I set it on fire" or shit like that? When Tuvok has a problem, he mind melds with it. Homoerotically if it's an option. Dude even got a mind std one time, despite the fact that's not even a thing.

And then whatever the fuck kinda thing he has going on with Janeway. Not even necessarily in a shippy way ("not romantic, not platonic, so devoted the lines blur") but like... not only is he unreasonably loyal to her but he does shit like not only letting her touch him whenever she wants but *deliberately offering her HIS HAND to hold* to comfort her when she needs it (reminder that hand touching is very intimate to Vulcans and can be likened to human kissing) and again, they're never even stated as romantic or anything, they're just friends and yet he is more loyal to her than he is to his own code of ethics.

Obviously part of all of it could be because Janeway (or possibly Kate Mulgrew) is simply Like That, she does do shit like tell her platonic subordinate "then be a good rat and find us the cheese" in a tone that makes me lose it, but it's not all her, Tuvok is also extremely not normal about it. I should submit Janeway too actually, I'll do her next.

Also, afaik Tuvok is the only crew member of Voyager (who makes it back) who had a romantic partner before the ship got lost in the Delta quadrant and remained loyal the entire seven years they were lost. I *think* Samantha Wildman also did but she's a minor character (so she could've been getting it off screen) and she started out pregnant so once born Naomi both kept her busy and was a living reminder of her husband's love. So in that regard, Tuvok is very much not normal but like in the most positive way. He literally didn't cheat on his wife even when his life was in danger (they *were* out there for seven years so of course he hit pon farr eventually) and I think that's really cool of him. But also very not normal.

I'm very tired rn but once the polls come out, simply check out the blog of Bea @bumblingbabooshka (wanna clarify, I'm not him but he is THE Tuvok blogger in my opinion) who has written much on this already.

There's also the whole stuff that happened around his monestary era but I'm not even at that part yet but it must've been wild.

Anyway. Vote Tuvok

Janeway:

- will literally martyr herself at the drop of a hat

- will kill you if she thinks it's what she needs to do for her crew

- will not kill you if she thinks you've got residue humanity after decades as a borg drone even though realistically she really should've (tho ofc we're all glad she didn't)

- will violate your personal rights if she thinks you're not "human" enough and also compare you to a replicator (yes I'm still salty about that. wait what was the question? right, i'll get back on track)

- will say absolutely deranged shit like "then be a good rat and find us the cheese" in the a tone that makes me lose my mind and basically give everyone a crush on her (and also mommy issues) if they spend too long in her vicinity, leading to a very loyal crew

- her solution to having a crush on a fictional character was to delete his wife (very relatable but also very not normal)

- she wanted to watch hot Q on Q sex (possibly for scientific reasons) and looked very disappointed when it was severely underwhelming

- WHO brings a bathtub on a spaceship???

- there's more but y'know

#poll #tournament

16 notes · View notes