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soukita · 1 year

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RICK OWENS AND HIS INFLUENCE ON YOUNG ADULTS AND THEIR FASHION JOURNEYS

The fashion industry is forever evolving, inspiring a new generation of young teens and adults to express their individuality through the language of clothes. In the midst of the fashion industry, many people have shared their love for clothing by designing and creating new pieces that can influence a group of disciples for years to come. Rick Owens and Michèle Lamy are two influential figures who completely changed the fashion industry with their intricate designs and unique silhouettes whilst helping introduce many people, of all different backgrounds, to avant-garde fashion. The fashion industry continues to fluctuate in terms of what is and what is not popular due to the rapidity of trend cycles and the gentrification of fashion. Rick Owens has gained a lot of traction in recent years due to widespread popularity on social media such as TikTok, Instagram and Pinterest. This wide-spread popularity can be attributed to numerous celebrity endorsements and collaborations. I interviewed two Rick Owens enthusiasts: Bailey Anderes and Chase Walker comparing the influence Rick Owens has had on their respective fashion journeys. Walker, a 23 year old reseller from Detroit and Anderes, a 19 year old Fashion Student from New York, both have different journeys in finding their own route in the fashion industry, however they both share a common admiration for the brand.

When did you first get into the brand Rick Owens?:

Walker: “When I was about 16-17 I saw Kanye wearing this Rick parka and ever since then it’s been on my radar.”

Anderes: “Around sophomore year. So about 4 years ago.”

What inspired you to get into fashion, specifically Rick Owens?:

Walker: “Back in 2016, I was in several online communities, mostly on Reddit and Kanyetothe. This is when we were coming out of the Yeezus era and I saw a lot of affluent people wearing Rick such as A$AP Rocky and Kanye. This era is when a lot of people were getting into Rick because of celebrities. It wasn’t until 2019 that I actually started buying Rick because I had started downsizing by selling my thrifted clothing on Instagram. Then, when COVID happened, I lost my job and used my stimulus checks to invest in my business, importing and dealing with designer goods, mostly Rick.”

Anderes: “I think the dark, drape, and brutal style is super cool. Seeing my dad wear suits early on definitely made me want to look fashionable”.

Do you think the location of where you live affects your fashion sense?

Walker: “Detroit is a fashion desert. Short answer, yes”.

Anderes: “Absolutely. I grew up in Wisconsin. And that’s honestly what pushed me into Instagram and websites, so I began seeing and reading about designers there.”

“One thing about Rick is that it has such longevity because it’s the only brand in the public eye that is “dark wear adjacent”

Rick Owens has gained an insane amount of popularity in the recent months, why do you think that is and do you think gatekeeping the brand has aided its exclusivity?

Walker: “Definitely has to do with the Converse and Birkenstock collab, Rappers like Gunna and Playboi Carti and Tyrone Dylan’s influence on the brand with Kiss Heels and the more glam look also have had a major influence. One thing about Rick is that it has such longevity because it’s the only brand in the public eye that is “dark wear adjacent”.

Anderes: “Yes. Gatekeeping Rick Owens definitely would allow them to be less popular, however with collaborations with Converse and Veja, they end up hitting a lower price tier bracket so it’s more accessible. Also gatekeeping Rick is still a thing, there are a lot of collectors who don’t like how popular it’s getting so they tend to stray away from giving out a lot of info”.

When a brand gets really popular in mainstream media and fashion, it is inevitable that fakes start to appear in the market more frequently. Have you ever bought any fakes?

Walker: I’ve bought so many fakes by accident. I think it’s weird if you wear it. Money is out there, there are very little things you cannot afford when it comes to clothes. If you have $200 but the piece you want is $500, just wait until your next paycheck. Counterfeiters don’t intend to fool the buyers, they are selling to a customer. If you really care about the piece, you’ll look diligently to make sure what you’re buying is real”.

Anderes: “Unbeknownst to me yes, I also was on Canal Street and got a fake Prada hat cause it was funny”.

Do you think the price tag of some of Rick Owens pieces are worth it? In terms of quality and honing your personal style?

Walker: “Short answer: yes, value is a complicated concept. I can buy a Gildan shirt from Walmart and as soon as I walk out the door the value depreciates, however I can buy a piece and as time goes by I can get back the money I paid, or more, if I resell it”.

Anderes: “Retail? No. Resell? Definitely not. You have to be patient to find a good deal nowadays. I used to have a lot of Rick Owens. I collected a lot from SS02 and I was able to pick it up for pretty cheap a few years ago. Now, not so much”.

Rick Owens has created such a big community that truly brings people in the fashion world together. There’s a private discord, accessed only by invite, that allows enthusiasts to have an open discussion with other archivists and devotees to the brand where one is able to chat, share their newest pieces, and oftentimes sell to each other. Owens, a bi-sexual man, has also used the brand as a way to blur the lines of gender steryotypes (creating the famous “KISS Heels” that many hetoro-sexual men are now wearing). I asked Walker if he thought Owens himself has had an influence in breaking these gender norms:

Walker: “Yes but not really. A lot of men who are wearing Kiss heels are some of the most homophobic and bigoted people, but they dont even realize the meaning behind the piece. You cannot look at these muses Rick has and not think this isn’t a little queer. Some people are just so close-minded and blinded by their own delusion that they’ll wear anything hype even if they don’t support it. Rick operates in such a peculiar space, being a designer endorsed by rappers and hype while simultaneously androgyny and femininity”.

Anderes and Walker are both different in age, style and location, however they both share one thing in common and that is their self expression through fashion and their work. Walker a reseller and Anderes a writer both hone their experiences in the fashion industry to continue utilizing their craft in order to evolve.

As fashion keeps evolving, Owen’s brand will too, and currently he is in the midst of releasing another collaboration with Converse. As Anderes said, people are still gatekeeping Rick Owens, but with his continuation of collaborations and releases that appeal to the masses, the brand seems as if it will continue to be a staple on social media and in everyone’s wardrobe.

“Rick operates in such a peculiar space, being a designer endorsed by rappers and hype while simultaneously androgyny and femininity”

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russilton · 1 year

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1-6!!! <3

Oooooooo ( <3 )

1. Have you always know about F1?

Yes, in a way, I grew up SURROUNDED by f1. My dad has been watching since the late 70’s when he was a child, and so it was always on when I was growing up. My best friend as a child had posters on his wall and models of Michael Schumacher’s cars we would race, and when I was 8 (2007) Lewis came into his prominence. Lewis comes from the same area as me, just one town over and round here everything is pretty close together so I’d still call him a home town hero? I didn’t become a die hard f1 fan till I was 20, but I have ALWAYS known about Lewis.

2. How did you get into it?

Like with many hyper obsessions it started with the pandemic LOL. I hate to say it, but Reddit memes got me in 2020 when I was locked up in quarantine, and after a day diving that rabbit hole I joined my dad in watching the first race of that year (due to the covid delay, the season started late and let me catch it right as it began).

It was a slow build up, like I started with the races, then quali, I was invested in the memes, and a Lewis fan from the outset. British drivers and drivers I remembered from childhood got my support lmao. Kimi, Vettel, and of course Danny ric. Silverstone 2020 (winning on 3 wheels) happened and I was hooked line and sinker from there.

It’s also one of the few things my dad and I both like, and for me (autistic) and him (undiagnosed but I’d bet money on it) it’s a good bonding activity. We can’t talk about emotions but we can talk about Mercedes chances at a track.

3. Did you watch DTS? If so, what was your opinion on it?

I DID, and I would say in 2020 it helped me understand f1 better and provided a more beginner friendly intro to the sport. Now? I’m really not a fan, I still watch it for the memories and to be able to laugh at what’s dramatised, but I don’t love how it sets certain things up and thus sets certain fans up to expect shit. I don’t like how it’s managed to change the entire governing direction of F1 for the sake of “drama”, and I’m European, so I’m wary of the Hollywood Americanisation of the sport.

4. Do you have a favourite racing film?

Rush (2013) is the first and only f1 film I’ve watched so far but I LOVED it.

5. Are there any movies or documentaries you would reccomend to understand F1 better?

I WISH I COULD, but I need to watch more. I would like to have F1 movies and doc’s recommended to ME.

6. Do you have a movie that changed your F1 perspective?

Lmao, it of course has to be Rush because it’s the only one I’ve seen, BUT I think I would have said that anyway? I found it really important to understanding the underlying foundation of how Niki changed the sport, and it gave me a start to learn about him, and thus the effect he had in building Mercedes and Lewis. If anyone hasn’t seen rush, you REALLY should.

Send me f1 asks?

#asks #mark’s driver meta #visagesaintedevote

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yourdadinvest · 1 month

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youtube

Quick Reddit Crypto Investing Guide for Beginners (Your Dad Invest)

#youtube

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sublimecatgalaxy · 2 years

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Brown Eyed Girl- Part One

Pairing: Elliot (Euphoria) x Reader

Summary: The reader and Elliot have been dating since middle school. Best friends through baby pictures, pre-school, grade school, everything. But when middle school sweethearts are turned into parents in a seemingly quick turn of fate, will their lifelong friendship and relationship last?

Word Count: 2.1k (shorter cuz it's like a opener)

Warnings: Mentions of sex, pregnancy and abortion, angst.

A/n: Hello all, I've finally got a fic going on! This will be like ten parts and I'm really hoping you guys like this and I can't wait to see all of your lovey messages and comments❤️

I never wanted to be a trope.

I’ve been reading fanfiction since puberty, hyperfixating on my newest obsession, my newest comfort character, my newest obsession. Every other week I’d have someone new to focus on, someone who caught my attention, tugged at my heart strings, someone who made me feel beyond belief. There’s something comforting about investing in something like that, waiting for the newest part, interacting with people with similar interests, implanting yourself in these complicated, well-written (sometimes) stories and ideas. It was the greatest escape I had ever found and experienced and still is comforting to me today. To be able to take a break from my parents fighting, from their split, my dad’s complete vanishing act from mine and my sisters life, my mom's alcoholism; the reading gave me an escape from all of it, and a healthy one at that, especially compared to my eldest sister’s denial.

I suppose that’s why my sister Lexi and I get along.

She’s a bookworm too, a total art freak. We shared a similar taste in music, movies, shows, actors and actresses, along with the same dislikes and pet peeves in art. And boy, could we go on for hours about all of it. None of our other friends growing up shared our similar liking to books and poems, even down to our movie choices; they thought we were odd because of our ‘mature’ taste, finding it weird that we weren't watching the childish shows and reading the picture books that our friends were enjoying.

Not only that but we were constantly reading and writing years above our grade and age group. The school system considered having us skip grades at a few points throughout our pre-highschool years but they didn’t want us to miss out on the social aspect that elementary school and middle school offered to us. But we weren’t interested in the social aspect of school, knowing that we were enough for each other and not caring for all the drama that kids our age were so obsessed with.

She and I were always sharing and swapping stories and ideas based on the books we were reading. We would read published books, we’d read on social media, watch fan-edits, scroll through Tumblr and Reddit into the deep, dark hours of the night. I dabbled in writing a bit but not like her, no, not like Lexi. She had a knack for writing, for creating these deep stories like the ones that we loved reading when we were kids when our dad would read us to sleep every night.

Lexi and I were always best friends, but I guess that came with the title of twins, right?

We were genetically identical, maybe not so much in looks though. We differed in our smiles, our eyes were the slightest bit different in color and shape but somehow our mannerisms were completely the same and have been as we grew up. Maybe it was because we spent all the time with each other that was humanly possible, picking up on each other’s quirks throughout our years. It was easy to get to know her throughout my life because she was practically me, the way her eyebrows would tick up, what certain smiles told me about how she felt, how her blinks changed when she was excited. We knew everything about each other and we were closer than any siblings could ever possibly be.

Our other sister on the other hand was a bit different than us.

She’s our eldest sister, the one who’s supposed to pave the way, to be the guiding hand that leads us through life and steers us out of trouble. An older sister is supposed to be someone you can go to when you’ve gotten yourself into trouble or someone to rant to when you need advice.

But Cassie was not that. She still is not that.

Cassie is reckless, the one who needs most of the advice compared to being the one to give it, she’s erratic and emotional. She’s always been the type to feel with her whole heart which is probably her biggest strength but in the past has also proven to be her biggest weakness. Between her relationship choices, the people she chooses to get involved with, her decisions to try to keep in touch with our father after he left to fall into a little white baggie, and her constant disapproval of how everyone else around her lives their lives; she’s reckless, controlling and she craves everything that life has to offer, in every toxic way.

She was no help when our father left, clinging onto the fact that he was going to return, begging a god she didn’t believe in to send him home, waiting at the end of our driveway every other weekend. She wanted him to become a new person, to suddenly get sober, become better, and to come home to us and our mother.

Our mother, who was falling apart every day in the marriage let alone out of it.

It was in her best interest to be without our father, who spurred her alcoholism on, it was the best opportunity for her to grow without him holding her back. That was something that Cassie could never see or accept. Lexi and I knew this, we knew our parents weren’t the best people, that they both had their faults, but together they were suffocating their kids, especially their youngest.

Over the years, my mom had improved, her drinking slowly dissipating and slowing down. It just clicked one day, maybe after Cassie got pregnant, that her children needed her and she needed them more than the empty bottles of wine that she was collecting by her side instead of her family. Once Cassie needed her, she was awake and ready, and it definitely hurt Lexi and I that after all those years of neglect and how quick to anger she was, she was ready to be a mother again the minute that Cassie got herself into a bad situation. And to think of all the times that Lexi and I could’ve used a mom, it’s upsetting.

But either way, we got our mom back.

Lexi and I got our way through high school, all the way to senior year, Cassie graduating and getting a move on with an interior design degree. Lexi and I were most excited to be done with highschool, to be done with the people and the teachers who constantly mixed us up. We were most excited to move on with our lives and solidify our individuality with different college degrees. Lexi was obviously going for journalism and myself, still undecided. I was hoping that things would fall into place and help me make my decision and looking at how my day is going today, it’s starting to make a bit of sense.

I know that I said that I didn’t want to be a trope and I meant it. I didn’t want to be what I read, I didn’t want to be predictable or ‘old’. I wanted to be something new, something important and relevant in the world and I definitely didn’t want to be like Cassie. I knew that. Cassie and I had nothing in common, she hated school, she only cared about things that were measured at face value, she was more about shock factor than the quality of her actions. She’s reckless. I never thought that anything would bring us together or give me perspective of how and why she does what she does, but this?

This gave me perspective that I didn’t want.

It’s important to know that I wasn’t the type of person to ‘trap’ guys. Cassie did that, Cass is a trapper of men, figuring out anything and everything to keep the most toxic of men at her side like some trophy, like an accomplishment. I just wanted a wholesome relationship, something easy and full of life, something new and life changing. I didn’t want to just be in a relationship to be in a relationship, I didn’t want to date to just date who ever the fuck I wanted, to fuck whoever I wanted. I wanted to be in a relationship full of love and life, I wanted to feel everything that love had to offer and I wanted it with the one person that I’ve known as long as I’ve known myself.

Elliot has been my best friend since birth. Our mothers grew up together, pushing us together the minute that I was born. We were literally bred to be together, like some arranged marriage type thing. Our moms would dress us up together, take photos daily together, we played together, went to school together; everything. Every memory I had of my life, Elliot was there along with Lexi. They were my people, my whole heart and soul.

I knew that I felt more for Elliot when he first started dating around in ninth grade, right around the same time that my dad left and around the same time that his mom died and he moved in with his cousin. I already had these issues, clinging onto the men around me, Elliot, my male family members, male teachers who told me they were proud of my good grades. It hurt when he started to venture out into the world, kissing and hugging, holding, other girls that weren’t me. It pissed me off, my barely teenage heart could barely handle it so we fell off for a bit. That was until I told him how I felt.

I remember it like it was yesterday, the end of sophomore year and Elliot had just broken up with his latest fling. He told me it was because she just ‘wasn’t for him’ but he later told me down the line that it was me that was for him and he just wanted to be done with all the other girls. It came at a convenient time because he had just realized his feelings for me and I had been working up the courage to actually tell him that I thought that I was in love with him. We ended up blurting it out at the same time, giggling for a few and then agreeing that we would take it slow, not wanting to ruin the almost sixteen years of friendship that we had going for us.

It’s safe to say that we didn’t ruin anything.

Our relationship, because of our friendship, was so simple. No jealousy, no fighting or agitation. Just simple dates, heated kisses in the backseat of his car when I was supposed to be home. He gave me this sense of newness while also giving me the same familiarity that he had given me for years. He was my safe place, my person, even as our relationship grew deeper and deeper, even more intimate by the day. I always felt safe and never doubted his loyalty and love for me.

But now, looking down at the two lines on the test that seem to be staring back at me, it’s the first time that I’ve ever questioned my loyalty to him. How could I do this to him? I know that this isn’t my fault, that it takes two, but I almost feel guilty as I set the test down onto the cool tile counter, my eyes tearing up as I think of what to do. I didn’t want to be like Cassie, not because of her choice, because her choice was valid and it was hers, but I didn’t want my decision to be dictated by a man. She was so quick to let her boyfriend at the time have full say over what was going to happen just because she wanted to be with him. And she didn’t even end up with him in the end, left with this ghost of a decision that she ponders every day if she did the right thing.

I’m going with my gut and my gut is saying that I’m going through with this, that even if Elliot turns his nose up to it, not wanting the pressure or responsibility yet in his life, I would understand.

I would have to understand. He’s my best friend, always has been, even if we have different opinions over this situation. So if Elliot is loyal and wants to be with me like he’s said so many times, this was his test. This was the ultimate test of both of our loyalties towards each other, a test of our love and strength, to see if it survives a pregnancy and a child, even at our young age.

So screw college, screw making a decision, this is my decision.

﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡

Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @chiyongberry @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy

Euphoria Taglist: @colbysbrocks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx@ssprayberrythings @username-lols @pessimisticbiitch@urmomsangel @iamasimpingh0e @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @rosepetalsparks

#elliot #elliot euphoria #elliot x reader #elliot smut #elliot angst #elliot euphoria x reader #dominic fike #dominic fike x reader

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pompadourpink · 3 years

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Hi! I turned 18 a few months ago. Before my 18th birthday I was a “kid”. They treated me like a one. As soon as I turned 18, I became an “adult”. All of a sudden I was treated like a one. Yesterday no one would listen to me, today they want me to give voice to my words. For them, sometimes I'm a kid, sometimes I'm an adult. For them, sometimes I'm wet behind the ears, sometimes I have to deal with things all by myself. I'm so confused. They have never let me be an adult before. They never prepared me for adulthood. What am I supposed to do? Is what I am saying important or it isn't important because I don't know anything about life yet?

Hello,

Good news: you are absolutely not alone.

Many people here fail their first year of university (myself included) because they go from having to ask permission to go to the bathroom to living by themselves, getting to choose when they wake up and go to bed, being expected to pay rent, bills, deal with roommates, in full charge of their chores, food, laundry, having to save, buy couches, get into relationships, find friends, etc. in two months and all that freedom is so overwhelming that they overheat and have a breakdown. Imposter syndrome is a common consequence of this type of education and I remember feeling like a crook when I got my first jobs after somehow nailing interviews, laughing hysterically after buying my first car, or being dumbfounded when my dad asked me if I thought he should retire or continue working, a few years ago.

Because I didn't feel worthy of any of it.

Everything you feel and think is important - whether people take it seriously or not is another problem. Sometimes you will genuinely not be able to provide a mature answer because there are things you haven't experienced yet, some other times it will just be a case of you being considered too young to use your brain by boomers. And if you are a minority, you'll pay the price too.

Here's some advice:

Don't be afraid to communicate when you're upset, but don't burn bridges. Stay calm even when people don't deserve it. Anger, envy, frustration, bitterness, will not serve you, they'll make you constantly miserable, can ruin your reputation (which cannot be undone) and might have long-term consequences. If someone is attacking you, depending on the situation, ask them very softly what the problem is and how you two can fix it together, or ignore them and walk away if it's a possibility. Bullies get bored when victims don't engage.

Learn how to cook. 100% the most useful skill you can learn.

Read the posts I linked below and spend some time on Youtube, Wikihow, Reddit, etc. to learn about 1/ finances, 2/ nutrition/health, 3/ anything domestic you might need (sewing, grooming, cleaning, meal prepping, etc).

Living with roommates for at least a year or two, while annoying, is a very teaching experience that I would recommend. You need to personally witness how other people live, and treat their interior, bodies, finances, etc.

Start working out regularly so you can die old and healthy.

If someone you know personally makes you feel disrespected, set boundaries immediately. They can't get away with it. Discuss it right away, explain why you think it's unfair, and ask for an apology. If you can't get one or are getting ridiculed, it's evidence that this person is around you for the wrong reasons. When people tell or show you who they really are, believe them the first time.

Other posts:

Adulting: stuff you need to buy, I don't know what to do with my life, advice for teenagers, starting over alone, Murphy's law: be proactive or burn, things to start doing when you turn 18, money education 101, invest in yourself, feed yourself well, stop procrastinating, put yourself first, it doesn't only happen to others, grooming 101, pick your battles, the truth about discipline, advice for young women, one day,

Self-dev: becoming an eloquent speaker, making yourself happy, you do you, about priorities, you're better than you think, labels aren't a good idea, overcoming obstacles and fear, confidence over appearance, advice to my 15-year-old self, getting your sense of self back, battling insecurity, dealing with hatred, the importance of gratitude, battling frustration, battling bitterness/entitlement,

Health: battling depression, wanting kids when sick/disabled, why you shouldn't give up, don't be your own bully, coping mechanisms, help I'm overwhelmed, living with mental illness, dealing with anger, dealing with a horrible job, social media isn't real,

Business: moving abroad, career picking, work/life balance, creating a study schedule, you're not their parent, your boss isn't your friend, happiness vs capitalism, careers are messy, language studying, facing injustice, you are not a robot, fear of public speaking, reaching your goals, about teaching, being your own boss,

Relationships: you're not his maid, finding a good partner, making friends, healthy relationships, surviving a breakup, dealing with family, codependency, green and red flags in relationships, healthy boundaries, about age gaps, craving for love, my partner or my dreams?, making friends online, you do look amazing, beauty is meaningless, no need to rush, relationships are everything, surviving being ghosted, dating 101,

More: art isn't meant to be useful, becoming a runner, how to adult 101 (phone calls, job searching, prepping for interviews, to-do lists, etc.), adopting a senior cat.

Love,

Mum

#ask #malks

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years

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Honestly, I'm tired. I often try to give the benefit of doubt to almost everyone. Astruc completely destroyed my enjoyment of the show.

Season 3 wasn't great, but had some cool moments that I genuinely enjoyed, but I draw the line to what happened in Miracle Queen.

I can get behind a character hitting rock bottom for rising up in other seasons, but how much Asstruc bashes Chloe has become too much. Everywhere I go, I find people defending this poor choice in character development. I can't say that Zoè's introduction to the show is a poor choice in my opinion, that suddenly I get downvoted almost immediately in Reddit or find myself in long ass diatribe about why Chloe is an horrible person and doesn't reserve redemption.

I was fine with Season 1 Chloe, she was just a bully character who was there to be a plot device to make the main cast akumas and to be Marinette's total opposite.

He wanted to make Chloe unlikable, then he shouldn't have never introduces Audrey. He was pretty telling that the only people who tolerated Chloe were her dad, her butler and Sabrina, even Adrien, who supposedly was her childhood friends, barely hangs out with her.

When Audrey was introduced, Chloe became a sympathetic character and from there there was a bit of complexity in a character in a show where the protagonist are often bland and boring and the antagonist is a worse Mr. Freeze.

Seriously, from that point, I related to Chloe in a way that neither Marinette nor Adrien managed to do. Marinette has good parents and is loved by everyone, Adrien has a shitty father but Plagg, Gorilla, Nathalie and his friends make up for it and even then, the show goes out of his way to show that even if he became a magical terrorist, Gabriel somewhat cares for his son, while Audrey doesn't even remember her daughter's name.

After Miracle Queen, I didn't watch the two specials and I dreaded to watch season 4, scared that the show would have worsened and while I watched Truth, that I liked a little because I liked the Akuma power, even with the stupid thing about Jagged Stone being an horrible father, and I related a bit in Guiltrip, because I have a chronic illness and a bit of depression, I still haven't managed to gather the courage to watch Lies, Gang of Secret, Furious Fu etc.

I realized I was tired after the promo for the second season of The Owl House was dropped a few days ago. I realized that I no longer enjoy the show, that I lurk into the fandom because the show left me unsatisfied and the fan fiction somewhat seems better than the show itself, while with The Owl House happened the exact opposite. For TOH, the show left me so satisfied that I barely enter the fandom, because is that good, while with MLB, I stay for the fandom.

I'm tired of it and I think I'm going to take a break from this show, and it is in part because Astruc's crusade against Chloe.

Sorry for the long ask, but I just needed to vent.

Don't worry, your anger is completely valid.

The treatment of Chloe has proven to be a real breaking point with some fans. After the creator of a show scolds fans for getting invested in a character arc, why get invested in anything else?

It's even worse when you remember this show airs on the same channel that airs Gravity Falls, Amphibia, and The Owl House, shows that actually treat their so-called "bully characters" with depth, showing that they aren't just one-dimensional villains like Astruc claims Chloe is.

I think it's a good idea to distance yourself for now, because things with Astruc aren't going to be pretty tomorrow when "Queen Banana airs".

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #thomas astruc #thomas astruc salt #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #chloe bourgeois #queen bee #queen b

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mr-entj · 3 years

Text

Since we last spoke, the following things have happened:

I joined the horde of Redditors (Wall Street Bets) taking on Wall Street and threw in $1,000 into $GME (Gamestop) stock for fun. The investment somehow 20x and I made $12,000 in one day and $20,000 total. I’ve been investing for years and I’ve never seen an event like this happen, hedge funds and billionaires are absolutely panicking. Check the news to see what we’re up to by googling “Reddit GME stock market.”

I resigned from Google and I’ve been on my first sabbatical ever hence the radio silence, but Bora Bora has been temporarily postponed due to the lack of the Covid vaccine. These past few weeks have revealed what I’ve always known: I’m not really a long-term sabbatical/vacation guy and “chilling” isn’t really my thing. There are too many exciting things going on in the world and I want to jump back into the action because life isn’t a spectator sport.

News of my availability reached my professional network and I was offered a few opportunities, but one in particular is a senior position at another Big Tech company (another FANG and a Google rival) to lead global product and operations strategy to combat cyber crime on the internet such as violent extremism, misinformation (political, medical, etc.), child safety, etc. The role checks all my boxes: I’m passionate about the work, it makes a huge social impact, it’s great for my career, and it pays an astounding amount of money. They’ve been aggressively pursuing me for months and I’ve finally notified the executive team that I’ll be accepting their offer to start in February.

Until I start that next adventure, I’ve been enjoying being a stay-at-home dad to our new fluff ball. Everyone, meet Kobe-Wan Kenobi (“Kobe”), our red mini Goldendoodle:

I’ll take a look at your asks this weekend and knock a few of them out. I hope you’re all staying well.

#personal #reddit #GME #wallstreetbets

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k-s-morgan · 3 years

Note

Hi :)) don’t know if you’ve talked about this before but when you first watched Hannibal, what was the episode that made you realize that it was a love story between Will and Hannibal? when did you know Hannibal was in love with Will and vice-versa? Was there a scene or episode in particular? I love hearing people’s versions of the moments when they realized that

Hi! I’m afraid my story is boring in this regard because when I started watching the show, I already knew it was going to be a love story. I always research everything I intend to watch or read very thoroughly, and since I joined the fandom at the start of 2016, the show was already over and spoilers were everywhere.

However, I still thought this was going to be queerbaiting. I imagined something like John and Sherlock, so every intimate moment between Will and Hannibal gave me a thrill. I felt that electricity from the scene of their breakfast because Hannibal was looking at Will in such an infatuated way, I was amazed. Every textual confirmation and the fact that the entire show is a love story became shocking and pleasing realization. I recognized that romance was actually the major plot in the middle of S2 - their mutual feelings became obvious by then, in my opinion. Will failing to shoot Hannibal in the kitchen and Hannibal planning everything around Will spoke volumes of what they are experiencing.

You can a Reddit thread with some discussions about your question here. I also once made a post about people’s reactions when S1 was just airing. I’ll copy bits from it here if you’re interested because I agree that seeing others’ thoughts is fun!

The shipping was very varied at that time - you could easily find Hannibal/Alana and Will/Alana fans. Some were making bets on Hannibal/Bedelia since Bryan mentioned Hannibal getting a love interest in S2. Hannigram was there from the beginning, too - in fact, as it’s evident from Bryan’s pre-S1 teasing tweet, some people were hoping for some Hannigram content even before seeing a single episode. One of the promos for the show presented after the pilot entailed Hannibal sniffing Will: some people caught on onto what was happening at that point already. But no one really took it very seriously, and people’s opinions differed.

Some were swooning over Will with Alana, calling it an amazing exploration of a relationship between two mature people. Others expressed hopes that Hannibal would try to get closer to Alana to mess with Will. Some were excited to see Hannibal touching Will’s shoulder in E9 and expressing the desire to be a family with him and Abigail. A bit of discussion from those times I saved out of amusement:

Commenter 1: I thought that whole scene had a homoerotic feel to it.

Commenter 2: Gay dads. Gay dads.

Commenter 3: I thought that whole show had a homoerotic feel to it.

Commenter 4: I feel like Hannibal is sexually attracted to Will, but I might be making too many leaps here…

Commenter 5: I don’t think he is sexually attracted to Will. I get the sense that he is only sexually attracted to himself. As a pure narcissist, I don’t think he is capable of feeling attracted to another person, regardless of gender.I think his attachment to Will is based on the fact that somebody can finally understand him. I think he legitimately see’s Will as a friend.

Commenter 6: It’s great to see more of Hannibal with his own psychiatrist. The fact that he seems to genuinely want a friendship with Will seems so touching. His reaction when Will came over to his house to tell him he’d kissed Alana was priceless and almost showed a hint of jealousy (but maybe I’m reading too much into that).

Some stuff about Will and Alana:

Commenter 1: I am so loving everything happening between Will and Alana. To have characters talk out their issues despite sexual tension, and hold off on a relationship because of them… it feels almost revolutionary in today’s television landscape.

Commenter 2: A romantic relationship would weigh down the show. They really don’t have time to get invested in that. It’s pretty obvious from an outsider’s POV that there’s a Will/Alana attraction going on, and to not acknowledge it would in some ways actually draw more attention TO it. My guess is they’re setting something up for season 2 or 3 (if we get them).

Commenter 3: At the rate he’s going, by season three Will’s going to be drooling in a mental hospital somewhere.

Commenter 4: I’m pretty glad the whole Will/Alana thing was a bust. She’s right about them being bad for each other, and I feel that if they did get into a relationship, that drama would just distract from the story. Plus Will is such a tragic character, a relationship would normalise him too much.

Mads already said he plays Hannibal as in love with Will at that point, so some took it into consideration while others ignored it.

And here you can read discussions of all episodes as they were airing. I think the quotes I provided above are from there as well.

#hannibal #hannigram #reddit

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mirrorforevers · 4 years

Text

the wrong side of the bed • damon albarn/reader

smut with feelings, i guess. sorry if is this is too long – this prompt excited me too much. i hope you guys like daft punk - though this is not a songfic, but you’ll get why - and i promise i’ll write something not involving sadness and alcohol someday. this is unbeta’ed, and english is not my first language, so have mercy

thank you so much for the music teacher prompt, anon! hope you enjoy it x also, just in case you haven’t read my graham/reader fic yet, here it is too.

tw: unprotected drunk sex

word count: 4.477

Music has been a very important escape mechanism for you recently. Your job has been hellish, and getting your degree has also been a chore - in the midst of so many deadlines and professional disappointments what has been a light for you is Damon Albarn, your newly divorced music teacher who is old enough to be your dad.

You detail these little “buts” as a mantra whenever the subject is him, whether in internal monologues or when you talk about him with your close friends. You never really believed in relationships between two people of very different ages, and you felt like you needed to remember those details whenever you could to keep that completely carefree crush from becoming something you couldn't control.

You started taking classes with him every Saturday after you were cast on your city’s production of a musical. You knew it was a very small step for a career in the industry, but it was very significant for you. You were exhausted from any activity that involved learning given how tired you were from college, but learning music with Damon was definitely something that you didn't even place in the same mental category. It was with him that you vented about how your week was, how you missed your parents who lived absurdly far away from you, it was with him that you shared the small victories of the day-to-day that were too insignificant even to share with your longtime friends. Which is funny, since this symbolic relationship was built in a matter of 2 months. Damon, in the beginning, was very reserved and “gray”, and it was amazing how in a matter of such a short time he shown himself to be someone so energetic, observant and empathetic; although a little bit of a control freak sometimes. When the wild waves of life seemed to take you everywhere at the same time and left you lost, despite so little time in your life, Damon became a constant.

And it worries you.

What are you going to do when the money to pay for his classes runs out? Certainly, although significant, what you had seemed to be was, above all, a friendship of convenience. You were very different people, with very different aspirations, and especially at very different points in life. As much as you liked each other *as friends* and considered yourselves people you wanted close by, Damon had a well-lived life to sustain. He would not have time much less willpower to listen to your complaints and insecurities in a context that did not involve an exchange relationship. At least, that's what you thought.

Saturday was also one of the two days you could wake up late, so in addition to having a rare time for your leisure, you were able to rest at least a little more than normal. That particular morning, you noticed that there were two missed calls from Maggie on your cell phone. Maggie was one of the producers of the musical. She used to bring you very decisive and very good news. If she called you, you did whatever it took to answer her right away. An unbelievable wave of anxiety takes over you. “Hello, Mags, you called?” You say, excited, but very nervous. Dealing with people who have your dreams constantly in their hands is somewhat stressful. You bite your nails.

“Hey, Y/N, yes. Um. You okay?”

“Yeah, thanks for asking. What happened?” You notice that Maggie's tone is different. The funny thing is that everyone is always so apathetic in the artistic world, and Maggie was the only person you knew so far that showed any kind emotion.

“So… you were dropped.”

Ah.

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

“You… were dropped. We made some changes here and there and you won’t be on our show anymore. If anything changes again, we’ll call. I promise.”

“Thank you. Bye.”

“Good luck, kid.”

Um.

Your stomach drops, and for a moment you feel like you've been punched. Maybe you've been wrong all along.

My God. My God. My God.

You feel like your entire world has collapsed around you. There aren't even reasons for you to keep going to class. All that effort and money spent... are now in the trash.

Artists spend a lot of time investing in themselves. You always have to become better. Faster. Learn techniques. Reinvent yourself. Stay beautiful. And you don't believe that in your first real experience in this world... that happened. Most likely a friend of the director took your place.

My God.

You swallow the tears, after all, you told everyone you knew that you knew how this world worked and you wouldn't be shaken if something like this happened. No one is watching you right now - but you still feel that you would disappoint them if you cried.

But you couldn’t smile anymore. Nothing could take away your expression of shock and uncertainty.

Not even funny posts on Reddit. Not even funny memes sent by your friends in the morning.

Nor the message from Damon confirming the class of the day.

I won't be able to go today ☹, you type, and you erase it.

Hey, I got dropped from the musical. you type, and you erase it.

How are you doing? Definitely not.

I’ll be there! 😅 You hit send.

Hope we finally figure out that bloody solo, he replies.

You do not answer.

You change your clothes, without your motivational playlist playing in the background this time. The beginning of a great plan going on in your life was no longer there. You didn't even pick up your headphones and the subway ride was completely silent, except for the ambient sound.

You arrive at school, and Damon welcomes you with the usual tight hug, and wide smile. You give a yellow smile in response, and he immediately realizes that something is out of place. “Is everything okay?” His expression quickly changes to one of concern. Your stomach drops even lower. Maybe it hit the ground by now.

“I…”

You don't want it to end. Your dream ended, but not this, too. This cannot end. “Can we try another song today? One not from the musical?” You ask, exasperated.

“Uh… I mean-”

“Please?”

"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?" He laughs nervously. “But... the musical’s why you’re here. I’m confused--”

“I know, but pretty please?” You insist, cringing by now to keep from crying.

“Um. Sure – but did something happen? Tell me. I’m-I’m here to help.”

“I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Please.” You feel your voice weaken more and more. You don’t wanna cry, though your eyes are already burning. “Please, Damon.”

“Right. Okay.” He says, raising his hands in defeat. He starts collecting his material.

“What are you doing?”

“No class today. Something clearly happened and we need to talk it out.”

“I-I got sacked. But there’s no need to…”

“I got it. C’mon. I’m not a monster, I won’t charge you for talking it out. All we’ve worked for… fucking cunts.” There’s the visceral side of him. “You gotta tell me how it happened.”

“Okay.”

He only leaves your two chairs in place.

After you two sit, he starts. “This happens quite a lot in this world. And every student reacts the same.” Though this sounds a little too insensitive, you imagine it’s the truth, and his tone does the job of conveying his compassion. “Did they call you? Or did you find out through somewhere else, like Patti LuPone?”

“Huh. At least they called me. They just straight up told me I’m no longer in the cast.” You say, totally not comforted by that. But it would be even worse if you found out by other means. “I don’t know what to do now.”

“Don’t let your spirit be broken by that – you’re really talented, and I don’t like paying compliments. You know that.”

“Talent is not enough sometimes. That’s also something you’ve said to me before.”

He goes silent, and you start apologizing in the same instant.

“No, no, you didn’t hurt my feelings.” He interrupts you. “That’s true. But you’re really young, I shouldn’t have said that to you. Shit like that happens all the time. We learn a lot from it and you have your entire life ahead of you. That was… limited of me.”

“I know I’m almost getting my degree, and there’s other things for me to do… but fuck. I-- I really wanted that. You know how much.”

“I do. I also know exactly how you’re feeling now. We’re always so excited when this kind of thing happens. We plan our entire lives based on that one fragile and uncertain plan, and then boom, it’s gone. We always count on the fact that we’ll eventually have to decide between our career and something else when the choice comes, but what do we do when it doesn’t come? I know how that feels. Also--”

He grabs his guitar. You roll your eyes. “Don’t tell me you have a song for that.”

“I don’t.” he answers. “But I do have a story to tell you.”

For the next two hours, he tells you all about a very ambitious audiovisual plan that he tried to engage in his early 30s. Among countless questions and answers, Damon Albarn showed you through his history how very determined he really was. He goes into the most minute details about the ideas he had for a film and several concept albums for a virtual band that, in your opinion, sounds like something very innovative and, at the same time, incredibly palatable to the mainstream. You thought that the band he was part of when he was even younger was already very wronged because, from what you heard from the demos, they were really incredible, but the fact that such a project didn't go ahead ... just proved to you more and more that talent sometimes really wasn’t enough. Just when you thought you couldn't admire that man more.

“So, believe me when I say I know how that feels.” Goddamn. He looks at his clock, and almost jumps at how the time flied. “Bloody hell, I have another student in like, 5 minutes.”

“God, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. This is a tale very few people know about. I’m glad I shared it with you.”

“…That had potential. Don’t give up on it.”

“Don’t give up on your plans either. I really mean it when I say you’re talented as fuck.”

You couldn’t help but smile through the dried tears and puffy eyes. You say your rushed goodbyes. But before can you leave the room, he holds your arm. “Wait. I know it’s hard, but don’t spend the rest of the day thinking about it. Do you want to do something tonight?”

“Uhhh—what you have in mind?” You can’t believe your ears.

“I don’t know. Do you drink?”

“More than I should.”

“Perfect. So I know a place we can go. Any preference of hours?”

“After 7 pm, I guess?”

“Works for me. I’ll send you the address soon then.” He says. You stand still, frozen, still processing what just happened. He’s blinking as if he just told you how’s the weather outside. “Now you can go.”

“O-kay. See you in a few hours then, Damon.”

“See you in a few hours, Y/N.”

You tried to hide your excitement, in vain. You smiled like an idiot.

This was one of the scenarios of your daydreams when you were walking around, talking quietly to yourself. Damon Albarn, your newly divorced music teacher who is old enough to be your father, just asked you out. You don't care if it was pity. After such disappointment, you allow yourself to create a little more of that stupid, inconsequential hope that your life would take an exciting turn for the first time.

He sends you the address a few hours after your class/conversation, when you were starting to get ready to meet him. It was a pub that you already knew well, and had visited with some friends in the past. You choose a dress that has become your “uniform” recently, for valuing your body type well and for translating your style in a way that is both stylish and very comfortable. When you finish getting ready, you take a deep breath. There is a world of difference between what you wanted to happen and what you think will happen. But you do not care.

The tragic call you received in the morning barely crosses your mind on your way to the pub.

Upon arriving, you find Damon - always so punctual - sitting in the corner of the lounge fiddling with his cell phone while he takes a few sips of a drink that you have no idea what it is made of. You never took him for a complex drink guy. He is really full of surprises. You feel slightly self-conscious out of a sudden, stomach churning in anticipation. He raises his eyes, and his gaze meets yours. His usual welcoming smile makes all your worries go away. You couldn’t help but smile wide too.

“Hello there. A stark contrast to this morning’s Y/N.” He notes, looking you up and down after you two share a tight hug, that smile still there.

“My plan tonight is to forget everything that happened before we talked, okay? Just let me forget about the call!” You answer, playfully, trying to pretend you weren't in the least ... affected ... by the way he received you.

And the time you spend together goes as usual. It’s amazing how there’s no space for awkward silences between you two. To one thing you tell him, he brings you three more things to tell, and vice-versa. You two just… click. You make each other laugh, and even if things don’t go the way you daydream about, which is totally okay, given that he’s twice your age and you’re not sure if you can handle the implications that age difference has, you’re glad to call him a good friend. He’s amazing, and you’re having a great time with him.

By your fourth beer and his fifth fancy drink, your conversation enters a territory that hasn’t been truly explored by you two yet. His romantic past. You only knew he was divorced because he mentioned it very vaguely one day, nothing else. You didn’t know why, who was her, or when. But apparently, he was about to tell you.

“We were both really… young… and didn’t have a clue of what we were doing with our lives. She was a musician too, Justine. Not anymore.”

“Because of what happened between you two?” You ask, the beers gradually taking the indiscretion filters out of you.

“Maybe. I don’t know. She seemed tired of everything. She wanted a life I’m not sure I would be able to live. I also pressured her a lot, I tried to create a version of her that somehow fitted all my expectations and, long story short, we weren’t right for each other. But I still think she’s incredible. I still admire her a lot. Not sure how she feels about me though.”

“Are you still in love with her?”

“Oh, no. There’s a big difference in admiring someone and being in love with them, kid.”

After that sentence of his, for the first time that night, an uncomfortable silence hangs between you - Instant Crush, by Daft Punk, almost ironically, starts playing on the pub's speakers. You feel like you're in a movie.

You're still a kid, aren't you?

“Definitely.” You finally answer him, finishing 70% of the bottle in a few gulps. You become a bit more lightheaded after that, and your eyes start to struggle to focus. You try to hide how slurred your voice wants to sound. “I confess I still don’t know how to really differentiate between the two.”

“Oh yeah?” His wistful tone gives place to one of amusement. “You never told me about your exes. Feel free to.”

“This is not about them.”

He turns to you, after a one-sided staring competition with his own cup. His voice is calm, and somehow even deeper, when he asks you: “Then who is this about?”

You gulp. The cramped space you were sitting on somehow feels even smaller. And hotter. You feel drops of sweat sliding on your belly. You’re sitting by his side, not in front of him, and that interaction feels almost… primal. You two are trapped by a huge table in a corner very few people can see.

“I think I need to go to the loo.”

He lets you, and you feel his eyes following you to the restroom.

My God. My God. My God.

You take a much longer time to do everything than you really need while reflecting on the dialogue you just had. You feel the ground is starting to spin, and the desire to sleep on literally any place grow. You’re drunk. And confused. And anxious.

You spend some good minutes staring at your own face in the mirror before you return to your table. He’s still in the moment, judging by the contemplative look on his face. This is the point of no return.

This is no movie – this is a fucking RPG.

“It was full,” you justify.

“Yeah, it’s always pretty crowded in there.”

That goddamn awkward silence again. You try to talk at the same time, but he wins.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Yeah.” You clear your throat. “It’s… about a guy. He’s a…current… thing. Not from the past.”

“Right.” His tone is serious, more teacher-like than he has even acted while actually teaching you.

“I met him through an ad. I was looking for music teachers in my area and I found him. He had a fair price.” He was now smiling in disbelief, shaking his head. You’re both tipsy and you don’t care if your words are slurred anymore.

“And?”

“I have classes with him every Saturday. It’s the event of the bloody week for me. I can’t believe I’m saying that now because at first he seemed quite intimidating and not open to any meaningful interaction. Like, all frowns and monosyllabic answers and all.” You steal his drink, and he’s not even bothered. “We talk a lot, and even though we talk every day I somehow always thought he didn’t give a fuck about me when we were out of class. That he only saw me as a student, not as a friend, you know? I think about that chap every single day too. He’s handsome--like. Fuck. And he pays attention to everything I say. He’s always so nice to me, he makes me feel welcome. A part of… something.” You take a few more sips, and he gently takes the drink out of your hand, mouthing an ‘enough’. “He’s old enough to be my dad and I feel guilty for thinking of him that way. He invited me for drinks when my world fell so I could get my mind out of the shambles my life’s in and I almost died because I’m madly in love with him for a while now, but I don’t want to ruin everything. I don’t know what to do now. People shouldn’t start things thinking of how they’re going to end, but, you know?”

“They should, though. He’s indeed too old for you. And your life isn’t in shambles.”

“But…”

“Everything sounds pretty lovely in theory, but, he’s probably thinking that he’s going to slow you down in a way. You’ve got too much life to live. He’s probably really tired of everything he’s already lived.”

“But I love him. He makes me laugh! I don’t wanna have children.” You whine.

He muffles a laugh. “It’s not that-“

”Please take me home tonight.” You plead; your tone more serious now. “I know what I’m doing, I know where I am. Just please take me home.”

“Y/N…”

“Please, Damon. If you don’t feel the same then fine, call me an Uber and I’ll get over it.”

That triggers something in him, apparently, and he kisses you deeply and intensely. His hands caress your back and the whole kiss, though a little disjointed because of the state you’re both in, is full of affection and love. His lips taste of strawberry vodka, and your mind is spinning.

When your lips part, you stare at each other for a while, thousands upon thousands of thoughts per second, unsaid. “Are you sure you wanna come with me?” He asks, kissing your hand.

“Yes. I am.”

After he fumbles with his keys, you’re finally in his apartment – it’s surprisingly nice and tidy. Judging by how carefree he’s with his looks, you imagined that characteristic would overflow to other aspects of his life.

From the Uber drive home to his door, his hand never left yours.

He locks the door, and you stand staring intently at each other, sizing each other up like men before a fight. This time, you start the kiss, with a little less hurry than before. But the desire is still burning hot on both of you.

“Do you have any idea of what you’re doing to me?”, he murmurs, discarding his jacket while he does his best to not break the kiss. You take this as a signal to start taking off your clothes too, starting by kicking off your shoes. It has become a choreography of sorts - his hands grasp your buttocks and pulls you closer after you’re done with them, drawing a gasp from you.

“I wanted you for so long.” You reply, your hands exploring his body below the fine fabric of his shirt. You motion to take it away from him, and he lets you, completely entranced by how red your lips look from everything it went through. He guides you to his sofa, quickly adjusting it so it’s comfortable enough and serves as a bed for both of you.

He lies down first, eagerly waiting for you to stay on top of him. You finally do, and you feel like a goddess from the way he looks at your body. You take off your dress, and now you’re almost fully exposed to him. You have no bra on, and his hands immediately travel to your breasts, fingers running tantalizingly over your nipples to get them stiff and erect before he pinches them between his fingers, smiling at the whimper his actions elicit. You start bucking your hips on the rough fabric of his trousers, and you feel him harden below you. “God, you’re… something else.” he whispers, and you respond with another whimper, biting back a full on moan when your clit hits the perfect spot. You separate your legs a little further so you can feel him better, drawing a groan from him. He takes this a signal to take his jeans off, eyes not leaving your hips.

Now that a distance of an entire layer is shortened between you, the contact is even more intimate, and the bulge of his cock straining against his underwear is driving you mad. You’re aching for him. He brushes against you and your moan is higher than you expected, and you immediately cover your mouth in order not to wake up his neighbors. As he feels the wet heat of you around his painfully hard cock, he takes your hand out of your lips, grip then tightening on your hips as he pushes you down right on to him. Your moan is even louder. “Let them hear.”

“Fuck-Damon-I’m getting so close--” As if you just gave him a command, his hands now grab the flesh of your inner thighs, massaging them further and further up until he reaches the center of your arousal, and the sound you make when he pulls your panties to the side and runs his finger between your folds while still grinding against you is somewhere between a whine and a whimper. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he says, voice rough from how excruciatingly aroused he is. “Come for me, baby.” Your clit was more exposed now, pressed more tightly against him and you whine in relief when your orgasm finally floods through your body.

Before you could fully recover, he finally frees himself from his underwear and, with your help, effortlessly aligns himself with your (quite ready) entrance. You bury your head in his neck the moment he enters you in one swift motion and your moans are almost like cries by now - the overstimulation is driving you insane. You take his face on your hands and give him a passionate kiss while he gradually picks up a merciless pace inside of you, the more heated the kiss becomes the more shamelessly you ride his cock. “Shit,” he mutters, massaging your breasts in an almost desperate way. It’s too much - you’re almost becoming one.

You could tell by how frantically he fucked you now that he wasn’t going to last much longer. His thrusts were becoming irregular and you were so close once again. His head falls forward, buried in between your neck and shoulder - his cock twitches inside of you and his movements become staccato, his mouth curving into a beautiful ‘o’ shape as he comes inside of you. His movements stop before you could reach your second one, but the entire situation you were on was so arousing to you that just by touching yourself while still feeling him inside was enough. Not letting you alone in this, one of his hands focus on one of your nipples while the other one is below yours, providing pressure above your clit. And like that, you come undone a second time, head above his shoulders.

For a few minutes, your panting was the only thing that could be heard inside of the apartment.

“Thank you. You were amazing. ’s been quite a long time.” He notes with a tender kiss on your forehead. After a while, and with much reluctance, he slides out of you, and gets up to fetch a warm, wet cloth and carefully clean you both, finally collapsing next to you with a groan.

“It was everything I expected.” You confess, smiling.

“Did you… think about me like that when you…?”

“Of course. But let’s save this talk for another Saturday.”

#damon albarn #graham coxon #alex james #dave rowntree #blur #britpop #fic #prompt #au #smut #damon x reader #damon albarn x reader

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elisela · 4 years

Text

marry me, eddie diaz buck x eddie, fluff, for @madamewriterofwrongs who wanted a domestic proposal

He’s never agreeing to take another half-shift immediately after a 24 hours shift again. It’s been suspiciously quiet; it’s not uncommon to go through days where he’s man-behind because ninety percent of the calls are med-only, but he’s crawling his way towards hour thirty-one and at this rate his eyes will turn to dust by the time the clock decides to idly tick over to 9:00pm and he gets to leave.

There’s nothing left for him to do. He’s stocked all the med kits, taken inventory of the supplies in the closet, chopped up every single vegetable in the refrigerator and searched the internet high and low for a new shopping list for Bobby, one with everything he could possibly need typed out neatly so Buck didn’t have to try to decipher his untidy scrawl next time they went to the grocery store. He’s gone through instagram, facebook, reddit—every social media site until the images and text bled together and he was stuck in an endless cycle of scrolling.

“Buckley!”

He rolls his head towards the back of the couch when he hears his name shouted from downstairs, frowning, because it sounds like Eddie, but Eddie had left at 9:00am with a pitying look and a clap on Buck’s back, but—

It is Eddie, standing at the foot of the stairs with Chris, and—

“Oh, no way,” he says, happily launching himself off the couch and stumbling in his haste to get down the stairs. Maybe he should take the pole, that would be faster. He grabs Chris up under the arms, squeezing him tight, and doesn’t bother to control the look of complete adoration on his face. “You brought Moo’s. Eddie. This is amazing, I wanted barbecue so bad this morning—”

“I know you did, I was there when you wouldn’t stop talking about it,” Eddie says, grinning. “Come on, Chris threw some blankets in the back of the truck, let’s go eat outside before an alarm gets you.”

“Dad got key lime pie,” Chris whispers in his ear as they head out, and Buck turns towards Eddie and beams.

“Eddie Diaz,” he says, “I’m going to need you to marry me.”

Eddie laughs, loud and sweet. “You’re not getting my slice, Buck.” But he leans over and presses a kiss to Buck’s cheek once they get into the truck bed, so Buck figures it’s a start.

Eddie curses beside him, a sudden, forceful exhale calling Buck’s attention, and he looks over sleepily. “Sup, Eds?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Eddie shakes his head. “I forgot Chris had a check-up this morning and I double-booked. The tire place had a last minute opening and I’ve been putting it off long enough, it’s not really safe to drive on them anymore—”

“So take my Jeep,” Buck says, knocking his knee against Eddie’s. “Problem solved.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says. “I’ll call and cancel—”

He frowns. “Eddie,” he says, shaking his head, “you take Chris, I’ll take the truck in. It’ll be, what, two hours tops? I’ll just meet you at your place to switch cars when everything is done. Not like I’ve got much else to do.”

“Right, not like you usually nap after a shift,” Eddie says, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t ask you—”

“You didn’t,” Buck says. “I offered. Come on, Eds, let me do this for you.”

There’s a pause, and Eddie’s hand lands on his thigh, squeezing, and a thrill runs up Buck’s spine. “Thanks, Buck,” he says. “Not sure what I would do without you sometimes.”

“Me neither,” Buck agrees, grinning. “You should probably lock me down and marry me already before all this is snapped up by someone else.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Eddie laughs. “How about we start with forgetting the ‘your place’ and ‘my place’ thing and just make it our place? Then it would be easier—”

Buck twists and lets himself fall, grabbing onto Eddie and bringing him down on the couch with him—not something he’s supposed to be doing at work, but his boyfriend just asked him to move in and he figures that surely the explanation will get him a pass this one time. “I don’t need convincing,” he says, kissing Eddie on the nose before ducking his head down and pressing their lips together softly. “If you’re asking, I’m in.”

“What do you mean, you need your credit card?” Eddie asks with a frown. “You’re supposed to be doing your taxes, not shopping.”

“I need to pay to file it,” he says, gesturing at the laptop, and pulls his hands away when Eddie turns the screen towards himself.

“Buck,” he sighs, “you’re single—”

“Hey!”

Eddie gives him an unimpressed look. “You file your taxes as single—idiot—you don’t have any dependants—although maybe I should just try to claim you as one this year, God knows you need someone looking out for you—no investments—”

“You don’t know that,” Buck says, even though Eddie’s right. He could have investments, he just—doesn’t.

“—all you need is a 1040A, and you shouldn’t be paying for that,” Eddie says over him. “Look, just give me your documents and I’ll do it for you, okay?”

Well, insults or not, Buck isn’t going to turn the offer down. “You’re amazing,” he says, and he closes the laptop and tosses it onto the couch next to him. “I should put a ring on you before it’s too late. Let’s drive to Vegas tonight and get married, it can be really classy, we can get Elvis and everything.”

There’s a long silence, and then, “you do that a lot,” Eddie says, looking over at him strangely.

“I do what a lot?”

“Ask me to marry you,” Eddie says. “I know it’s just a joke, but I feel like—” he stops and shakes his head, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

“Feel like?” Buck prompts, when it’s obvious that Eddie’s not going to continue on his own, and adds “don’t say it doesn’t matter,” when Eddie opens his mouth again, because he knows exactly how this conversation usually goes. “Come on, Eds. You feel like what? Pressured?”

“No,” Eddie says, quietly but firmly, looking down, “no, I feel like—I wish you would mean it.”

Buck’s always figured that when people say something caught them by surprise and they stopped breathing that they were exaggerating, but it’s only the way his throat starts to burn after a few seconds that reminds him to pull a breath in. “I do mean it,” he says, reaching over and taking Eddie’s hand, tugging until Eddie’s eyes meet his. “I meant it every time.”

Eddie smiles and shakes his head. “We weren’t even together when you started,” he says. “You asked me to marry you after our third shift together, after I let you borrow my shirt.”

“I still meant it,” Buck says. “If you had said yes—Eddie, I would have printed off the papers for a license and filed it before you even had time to regret it, I swear.”

“Funny that you think I’d regret it,” Eddie says, squeezing his hand. “But, uh, if you’re asking, then—”

“No,” Buck blurts out, and Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “No, not that—yes. I’m—I will ask. Soon. But you deserve better than this, just sitting here talking about taxes, God, Eddie, no.”

“This,” Eddie says, waving a hand around, gesturing between them, “is us, Buck. I don’t need anything more than that.”

He squeezes Eddie’s hand—too tight, probably, but God, he loves him. “Maybe not,” he says, “but I want to do the whole speech and everything for you, so just let me. Saturday, okay? 8pm. I’ll ask you then.”

Eddie looks at him for a moment, lips pressed together, tongue pushing his cheek out like he does when he’s trying not to laugh. “Alright,” he says. “And I’ll say yes at 8:01pm.”

#buddie #buddie fic #911fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #proposal #fluff #just so much smushy-wushy love

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