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#thanks for being my therapist strangers I don't know
poet-to-none · 6 months
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💀
My friend when they have less time for me: I'm not sad, it's important what they're doing, I support them!
My friend when they leave my art archive and our hangout space saying not to contact them: yeah, ok, I'm sad now.
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Hey gal just read rose tinted view and absolutely need more sweet wife and tangerine please but with more of tan in it can just imagine this stone cold hearted killer and this sweet gem of a woman with their newborn baby a nice sunny day in the park or something and tan is spotted by an ex enemy or something and all the ex enemy can think of is how someone so kind and sweet and doted on tan and their baby can be with someone like tangerine and tan being all protective of his wife and new born when she’s inviting this stranger ( his ex enemy maybe ladybug ) to join them and letting said stranger hold their newborn daughter 🥺🥺🥺
hi baby!! omg this is perfect and super cute!! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌
link for rose-tinted view if anyone’s interested
SWEET WIFE, SWEET LIFE.
dad tangerine x fem!reader — fluff
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word count. 651
Warm and sunny days naturally called for a quaint picnic in the park - you and your little family sat upon a blanket under a tree, containers of fresh fruit and snacks littered across. Your newborn baby girl, Mandy, on her back in the middle, surrounded by the pots.
Tangerine was on his side, head propped up on his elbow til he suddenly sits up - the motion almost abrupt.
"What?" you ask, following your husband's eyeline. "What is it?"
"Keep your head down," he mutters. "Don't look— oh, great. He's coming over."
"Who is he? Do you know him?" you question, turning away from the approaching man to meet the displeased look on Tangerine's face. 
"Met him on a job— right twat," he shakes his head, moving closer to his daughter as if he was trying to protect her. 
"Tokyo one?" you ask. 
He hums, the noise short, more like a 'humph'.
"Not interested," Tangerine grunts, holding his hand out to the man - not wanting him to come closer. 
"Abducting families now?" the man quips, looking between you and your baby. 
"No, now fuck off," Tangerine replies, eyes narrowing.
You flash him a soft, scolding glare before turning to look at the man. "Excuse my husband," you laugh faintly, patting the blanket for the man to sit. "You met on the Tokyo assignment, right? It's Ladybug?"
"Yeah," he nods, taking a seat on the blanket. "We worked together."
"No, we didn't. And what do you think you're doing?" Tangerine snarks, staring Ladybug down. 
You lightly tap your husband's knee, silently reassuring him. 
"Your husband has a terrible temper," Ladybug chuckles, helping himself to the bag of nuts. "Tried to kill me a couple times, too."
You cover your baby's ears and turn to face Tan. "You tried to kill him?" you whisper, scolding him.
"He tried to kill me too," he protests, glaring down his acquaintance. "The bastard shot me in the shoulder, remember?"
"I've forgiven him," Ladybug says, turning to look at you, holding a hand over his heart. "Resentment isn't good for the soul. I've moved on. I've put Tokyo behind me. Barry— my therapist, helped me process all—"
"Enough about your fuckin' therapist," Tangerine interrupts. He turns to look at you, eyes silently pleading you for help. "Seriously, I can't listen to him talk about Barry again. I will lose it. Darlin', I will lose it."
"Okay, okay," you coo, squeezing your lover's knee. "How about some sandwiches?" you ask, looking between the guys - trying to ease the apparent tension. 
And just as you're about to reach for the cooler, Mandy makes a soft, sniffled-like cry, both you and Tan immediately reaching to comfort her. Your daughter putting a hold on the animosity between old rivals.
"Do you mind?" Ladybug questions, reaching for your newborn. "I'm great with babies."
You feel Tangerine stiffen upon his questioning, his reluctance as clear as day. But you give him an assuring tap, softly smiling as you nod - trying to comfort him as you scoop up your baby. You place her into Ladybug's cradled arms, brushing over her soft cheek as you pull away.
"Oh, she's perfect," Ladybug whispers, looking down at your daughter. "She has this beautiful energy about her— I can feel it. It's incredible."
You lean into Tangerine's shoulder, slipping your hand into his and bringing it to your face - pressing a kiss into the back of it. He's hesitant, but finally, he gives in —even just a little bit— resting his head atop yours. He's still alert and protective of his daughter but retreats slightly as he watches his baby - keeping his mouth closed to soak in the moment. 
Ladybug looks up and glances between you and Tangerine. "You're blessed, man. I don't know how you pulled it off," he chuckles, looking back down to your daughter. "You have a beautiful family."
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I changed it so tan didn’t get shot in the throat, did the shoulder instead. im like god, holding the multiverse and alternate storylines in my hands
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hsficrecommendation · 7 months
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Hello Everyone! This is masterlist #4 (June of 2023!) for the all fics I have reblogged on this side blog I hold super close to me. Remember to leave feedback and reblog all the writings below!
Also, a huge thank you to all the writers mentioned, I adore you so very much and I hope you keep writing for yourselves <3
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••• JUNE •••
Valentine's Day | Y/N receives a special candy gram on Valentine’s Day. - @nationalharryleague
French Fries | Harry kept glancing at her as he drove. “M’sorry about our date,” he whispered. “I don’t know what you’re apologizing for,” she shrugged and reached over to squeeze his arm while he held the steering wheel. “I had a lovely time.” - @1d1195
Shy | Close | Motherly Love | Don't Leave Me | Mother's Day | ♡ When Harry runs into a perfect stranger at a supermarket, he doesn’t know what to expect. After having been single for over a year and raising Amelia without a mother, dating somebody new feels impossible… that is, until she wins over the heart of his daughter. - @harry-writings
Vogue Beauty Secrets | Actress!Y/N does the Vogue Beauty Secrets video, and Harry decides to help. - @astranva
Gonna be Better in the Morning | Jeff and reader get into a fight and Harry takes Jeff's side. (As always, there is a happy ending with lots of comforts) - @harryhoney-bee
Work of Art | A cute little fluffy artist!Harry piece with a hint of angst! - @nationalharryleague
Update | The Best Present | Harry falls for a mysterious girl from YouTube. - @watchmegetobsessed
When The Levee Breaks | You're a waitress and Harry is being stood up. - @songbirdstyles
Playball | ♡ The reader owns a bakery and hates baseball, but what happens when her town’s bigshot MLB player walks into her bakery and she finds herself catching feelings unaware of his occupation? - @writingsbymarie
The Con Artist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | ♡ You're a wanted criminal and when Harry Styles, the detective on the case, finally catches up to you- he finds it difficult to resist your charms. - @gurugirl
Baby Steps | You’re Harry’s son's therapist, and he isn’t the only one you end up helping. - @enthusiasticharry
Mute | ♡♡ Where Harry doesn’t talk and falls in love with Y/n. - @harry-writings
Score and Smash | In which their university holds an annual boy vs girl football match, the highly anticipated game of the year has arrived and Harry and Y/N hate each other just as equally until Y/N is under Harry.
Quid Pro Quo | Another lawyer!Harry. Technically six years before this piece. Enemies to lovers with plenty of angst! - @talesofstyles
Six Months (Part 23) | ♡ Layla desperately needs a vacation and her Aunt and Uncle come to her rescue. So, at twenty two, she packs her bag and jets off to America. Harry took a break from education and is now a full fledged content creator on OnlyFans. At twenty, he makes more money than almost all of his friends. What ensues when these two meet and realise the windows in their rooms face each other? How will paper airplanes bring them closer together? - @fishnets-fingers
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2022 : Masterlist #1 , #2 , #3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. 2023 : Masterlist #1, 2, 3 (June masterlist would be continued in the next list!)
My official writing account in case you'd like to check out my fics too: @0oolookitsme :)
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papurgaatika · 3 months
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Knead Me, Need You
Pairing: Massage Therapist! Joel Miller x F! Reader
Summary: you were overworked, overstressed, and long overdue to get a massage. You just didn’t realize that getting one would come with a very good-looking massage therapist or the thoughts that filled your mind every time he touched you Tags: no outbreak AU, massage therapist! Joel, no reader desc. Gentle Joel, dirty thoughts, Joel is a tease, the reader is pent up as HELL, mentions of fingering, no actual sex, LOTS of sexual tension, pet names (darlin’ and sweetheart are used), Appreciation for Joel's arms, 18+ Word count: 2.7k
A/N: I very desperately need to get a massage and woke up from a dream about it so there’s that!! Also a huge lovely shoutout and thank you to my wonderful beta readers (@joelsdagger @carlynkurin and my lovely Laur) who have saved me from making the weirdest grammar mistakes and also fuel me with comments such as “IM (S)CREAMING” yall are real ones xoxo
Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! 🇵🇸
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You hate your job. Okay, that wasn’t true. You don't hate your job, you just hate the commute. And sitting at your desk all day. And the fact that you always decide that heels look better with your outfits. So you didn't really hate your job, you loved being in charge, but your back was paying the price for it. Everyone in your life has heard you complain about your back hurting at least once. Some of your coworkers had found you with a stash of the stick-on heating patches in your desk and that led to the office pitching in to get you a certificate to one of the nicest spas in the area for your birthday. 
You weren’t sure if you would use it, you barely had time to sit down and fully wash your face. How were you supposed to relax for a full hour and a half with some stranger touching you? The answer came to you one Saturday when you rolled out of bed and could barely stand because of a crick in your lower back. A groan falls from your lips before you throw yourself back onto your bed and grab your phone, making quick work of dialing the number on the back of the voucher. You let out a sigh of relief when the receptionist tells you they have availability later in the afternoon, and you tell her you’d take the appointment. You’re just about to hang up before her voice comes through your speaker again “Oh, and just to let you know, your therapist will be male, is that okay?” 
You freeze for a second. On one hand, you didn’t love the idea of some random man touching you, especially considering it was a full-body massage. But on the other hand, you really didn't have a choice, your back was going to give out if you waited any longer. You mumbled out a quick “That’s fine, thank you!” before hanging up and making your way up to change your clothes. You decide to opt for something more casual, before grabbing your keys and wallet and heading out of the house. 
This place was fancy. Like much fancier than you had expected and suddenly your outfit felt too casual and you missed your heels. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you filled out the forms they gave you. No, you haven’t had a massage before, yes you wanted to focus specifically on your back, and you weren’t sure how much pressure you wanted. You hand the clipboard back to the receptionist with a smile and she lets you know that he’s just about finished with his last client and he’ll come back for you in just a few minutes. Your knee is bouncing of its own accord, nerves finally kicking in. You are about to be naked in front of a man who is then going to rub his hands into you. Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that it’s his job. He does this all day, five days a week. You keep reminding yourself that it’s just a massage, you’ll be okay. You finally start to believe that, nerves dissipating and your heart settling back to its resting rate, and then you see him. 
He’s all broad shoulders and a kind smile walking out to the main area, before turning in your direction, and your mind blanks for a minute to fully take in how attractive this man is. His arms were gorgeous and you couldn’t take your eyes off of them. His t-shirt was pulled tightly over his bicep, riding up just enough to let you see a peek of skin that was untouched from the Texas sun. His arms were thick, the muscles defined and prominent, veins standing out against the smooth skin. You were enraptured watching his arms move as he signed off on some papers and grabbed the clipboard with your forms on it. Images of his thick fingers in unspeakable positions flooded your mind; tugging at your hair while his other hand was on your hip, dragging over your lips and pushing them into your mouth, letting them curl into your aching cunt while he holds you down. 
You were lost in your thoughts until his voice was saying your name and pulling you out of your depravity. You smile at him shyly and stand up to shake his hand “I’m Joel, and I'll be your masseuse for today, it’s a pleasure to meet you darlin’.” if you thought that he was attractive before, hearing that accent made you weak in the knees. The slow drawl of his words was smooth like honey and sent butterflies straight to your core. He takes the paperwork from the receptionist and gives it a quick scan before tutting at you lightly. “Overworkin’ yourself? Don’t worry, I'll take good care of you today.” You feel your face start to heat up as you follow him back through the halls into his room. You stepped inside to be met with a dim warm light, and soft music playing through a speaker. 
“So is this your first time coming in for a massage?” he asks, half leaning against the door. 
“Is it that obvious?” you half laugh, heat rising in the back of your neck. You bit the inside of your cheek, eyes locked on his. He laughed softly with a shake of his head and you think you might die on the spot. It’s so unfortunate that he’s so hot. 
“No, darlin’ it said it on one of those forms they had you fill out, I just wanted to go over how it all works with you.” you nod and look up at the man, waiting for him to go on, “I know it said you wanted to focus on your back, do you mind goin’ a little bit into why?” 
You sigh and press a hand into your lower back, “So I sit at work a lot, and granted my posture isn’t great, but I woke up this morning and it was worse than it had ever been” You tell him about your job, about being overworked, about your stupid half hour commute. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, only dropping to flick over your waist for a moment, and then back onto yours. 
He lets you explain where exactly you were hurting before he glances at his watch and lets you know that you should get started sooner rather than later. “Just go ahead and get dressed down to your comfort level and then just lay down with your face in the cradle sweetheart. I’ll knock before coming back in and then we can get started.” You smile and give him a nod, taking a deep breath once the door shuts after him. You make haste to strip down and fold your clothes leaving them in a little pile on a shelf, leaving your panties on much too aware of the wetness that was pooling into them. You grab your phone and lay down on the table, scrolling through your email and replying to a few new ones from your coworkers, knowing fully well that they can barely get things done without you. 
A knock on the door breaks you out of your thoughts and you let out a small noise of acknowledgment that you were ready, slightly hesitant. You watch as Joel opens the door and steps in, eyes immediately flicking to your phone. “Can’t have that out darlin’, this is your time to relax” he says gently, grabbing your phone and setting it down on the shelf next to your clothes. “I’m sure work can wait.'' He shoots you a wink and your face feels flushed. You let your face fall into the cradle, eyes shutting before you feel his hands grazing your body over the sheet slowly. He’s barely touching you, his touch is feather-light, so why do you feel like your body is on fire? His fingers make small circles on your scalp as his thumbs press gently into the base of your neck. Your eyelids flutter softly, the pressure he was applying immediately melting away your stress. His fingers work on your neck, not pressing too hard but not so soft that it wouldn’t help at all. You feel him work in the same place for a few minutes to get rid of a knot, likely from staring down at your phone or hunching over your computer all day, before he takes his hands away. 
“Alright sweetheart I'm gonna move the sheet and start on your back, if that’s alright,” you nod into the face rest, letting out a deep breath when his hands hit your skin. You figured his hands would be as strong as the rest of him looks but he was surprisingly gentle and warm. The smell of roses and sandalwood fills your nose as his hands press softly between your shoulder blades. You let out a soft sigh when his fingers dig into your skin “That pressure alright darlin’?”
You manage to mumble out a weak “yes” and let your eyes fall shut again. You don't know why he’s doing this to you, why this man is making you all hot and bothered while he just does his job, but he is. His hands feel like heaven on your lower back, fingers creating circles to try and get a particularly nasty knot out right above your tailbone. A sound leaves your mouth, a little too close to a whimper for your liking and you feel the blood rush to your face but Joel doesn’t even mention it. 
“You're real tense sweetheart, it’s a wonder you didn't have to come in before today” he mutters as his fingers work their way back up your spine. A trail of goosebumps follows after his touch as your back almost arches into his hands. Almost. You catch yourself at the last moment, sparing yourself from what would be the most embarrassing experience of your life and would also likely get you banned from the spa, which would truly be painful because lord, did Joel know how to use his hands on you. His fingers were soft yet somehow held just the right amount of strength in them to work your pain away, the way the heels of his palms would dig into your skin when he focused on a specific area, he was just too good at this and it was making you a little bit crazy. 
Your eyes were still shut, your body more relaxed than it had ever been when you heard him tell you to flip over so he could work on your legs. In your half-asleep state, you seem to have forgotten that moving too fast will not only make your head spin but will also make the sheet covering you drop. You managed to catch it and pull it over your chest, eyes wide and staring at him. “Oh my god I'm so sorry-” you start but he cuts you off with a shake of his head before clearing his throat. 
“‘s alright sweetheart” his eyes flick down to where you were clutching the sheet. Your breasts were spilling out of the top almost obscenely, a small sheen of sweat from the warmth of the table (and his hands) covering your skin. “Just lay back down, ‘m gonna work on those legs now.” He turns to grab the oil again, and you weren’t certain because of the dim lighting in the room, but you could have sworn there was a light blush dusting his cheeks. You lay down with your head in the rest, still clutching the sheet at your chest before he takes it out of your hands and brings it over your chest fully, leaving just your collarbone and neck exposed. He moves to a corner before picking up a bolster to put under your knees to prop them up slightly. 
You let your eyes fall shut as you feel his hands skim your calf. You bite back a gasp when his hands, god his hands are huge, encompass your ankle and bring it up out of the sheet, bending it at your knee slightly. You wet your lips with your tongue and find your mouth drier than it had ever been as he moves your leg into a good position for him, your calf almost grazing his chest. You feel yourself clench around nothing and feel your panties dampen at the closeness of him. He lets your foot down, tucking the sheet under your hip so that it doesn't slip out from under you, and you can feel your heartbeat everywhere. His fingers were so strong yet so gentle on your calf, rubbing out the tightness in your legs.  As his fingers made their way further up your leg you felt like you were on fire. His hands were pressing into the muscles, nails softly tracing against your inner thigh and it made you feel weak. You couldn’t get the image of those same fingers the ones that were trying to help you relax, rubbing circles over your clit or digging into your hips as he held you in place, out of your mind. It was filthy really, how pent-up you were. How depraved the thoughts you were having about this man, this stranger, were, but you couldn’t help the wetness pooling between your legs from growing.  He presses into a specifically sore spot, dragging something between a yelp and moan from your lips. “I'm so sorry-” your words were quiet, barely audible over the light music he had playing in the room. “Don't worry about it sweetheart, just means I’m doing my job right” he was fucking with you. He had to know what he was doing to you. Had to know that while he was working on the muscles of your legs, you wanted those strong fingers inside of you, talking you through orgasm after orgasm with that sweet southern voice. 
You close your eyes again, trying to stabilize your heart rate and keep it from pounding out of your chest “Alright sweetheart, I'm gonna wipe you off and then I’m sorry to say, but we are done for the session” You nod your head before feeling the warmth of a hot towel wipe against your legs, attempting to brush the idea of him wiping you up after pumping you full of his cum out of your mind. You take a few deep breaths before he turns the lights up slowly, letting you adjust to the change. “Alright, I'm gonna step out and grab you some water. I’ll meet you up by the front darlin’” You smile at him and say thank you before moving to change into your clothes, knees slightly wobbly from just thinking about him. Your panties are embarrassingly wet when you stand up, and you press your face into your hands trying to shake this out of your system.
You manage to step out of the room without having your knees give out,  eyes still slightly blurry from being half asleep through the whole appointment, and walk back out to the reception. You blink a few times, adjusting to the much brighter lighting, and see Joel waiting for you with a cup of water. “Pleasure working on ya sweetheart, I hope I’ll see you again soon” You take the water and say your thank you to him before watching him walk back into the backroom, and oh my god was his butt always that cute? 
You turn back to the receptionist with a smile, when she asks how the session went. “Good, yeah no everything was amazing” You bite on the inside of your cheek softly, the ghost of his fingers still on your skin. You get checked out, making sure to give him a hell of a tip and book another session with him in a few weeks. You take his card and twirl it around your fingers as you sit in your car. Joel Miller- Licensed Massage Therapist- Austin, TX. It was going to be a long hard few weeks without seeing him, but you had some ideas on how to keep yourself, and that dull ache in the pit of your stomach occupied, and every single one of them included thinking about Joel Miller and his fingers. 
A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.  Thank you for reading, and free Palestine
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Every Time You Lie - Ch 3 || Lloyd Hansen
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Character: dark!Lloyd Hansen x female!reader, dark!Husband Lloyd Hansen x Wife!reader.
Synopsis: Any woman is jealous of you, especially with the status of being the wife of Lloyd Hansen—the CEO of the biggest pharmacy company in the country. From the outside, everyone sees you as a perfect family, a successful husband, two kids, and living in a big house. 
But the truth is different. You are trapped in this marriage because of the mistake you made. You are willing to give everything you have to get your freedom. Free from him. Free from your vicious mother-in-law. Free from your snobby son.
Both of them shouldn’t be together.
Warning: Betrayal, suicidal thought, harsh language, tragedy. Minors do not read. 18+
Author Note: I do not consent to copying or translating my work. 
Any reblog, comment, and feedback are appreciated. I want to know what you guys think.
Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 ,Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 ,-
Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓
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‘You’re not my type.’
Lloyd gritted his teeth; he held back the anger. You used to be obedient and never disrespect him like this. Now you turned into your old self. You said the same things the first time you met him. 
He brushed the back of your hair gently. His touch made you shiver and you uncomfortable. Lloyd lifted his finger to show you the ring.
“You married me, my love. You must be shocked. I understand it’s difficult for you to accept the fact. Don’t be afraid, I have hired the best doctor to treat you.”
Then he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles; his mustache tickled you. “So we could go back as we used to.”
You pulled back your hand after he said that: his gaze, actions, and everything he did scared you. You don’t understand why, but you feel helpless towards him. 
Lloyd, seeing you being silent made his heart ache more than ever. He’s afraid to kiss your lips and bring you into his arms. After being married, this is the longest time he is separated from you. He doesn't want you to see him as a creepy person. 
Both of you are husband and wife, for God's sake.
Everything he built has turned into a mess now. The empire he have, turned crumbled when there was no queen beside him. 
“I’ll leave and come back tomorrow.” Lloyd showed a sad smile and left you. 
You look at his back, he looks depressed. You want to feel sorry for him, but you can’t. Because right now, the one who needs to feel sorry for is you. 
Imagine you suddenly wake up and become a wife and mother. Your body is 42 years old, but your mind is still 21 years old. You don't know who your husband and your children are. To you, three of them are just strangers. 
The only people you want to see are Mia, Theo and Amelia.
Where are they? They’re not worried you got amnesia?
A lot of questions in your mind right now. You need to get out of the hospital. You hate it here.
“Urgh.” You growled with pain because when you moved your feet, it hurt so bad. You tried to press the button to call the nurse.
“Mother, what are you doing?” You turned your head and saw Emily and Lionel together. 
“Umm…” You feel awkward with them. It felt like a dream you have a grown up kids standing infront of you. 
“I want to walk, but it’s really painful.”
Emily immediately approached your bed, and she stopped you to make another move.
“You’re in a coma for four months. Because of the accident and lack of movement, it will hurt when you move any muscle. I will made appointment for physical therapist for your treatment.”
You looked at her and felt familiar. Her nose, her jawline, the way she speaks, and the little mole near her left eye. She looks just like you. 
“Thank you.”
Emily shook her head. “Don’t say that. You shouldn’t say that. It supposed to be me who…” She stops talking since tears from her eyes start dropping to the bed sheets. “I’m so glad you’re awake. I thought…. I lost you.”
After she said that, Lionel dropped to the floor, facing down, and cried.
Seeing both of them crying at the same time made you confused. You decided to open both of your arms and said, “Come here, both of you.” 
In just a second, two of them are in your arms. But it was Lionel who got all the space. He rested his head on your shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around you, “I’m sorry mother. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”
He keeps repeating these words. Since the accident, the guilt is eating him alive. He wished that it was him instead of you on that day. 
You want to cry when you hear his voice; you stroke his head. “It’s fine. I’m alright.” 
You sighed heavily, accepting the fact the moment you wake up you became a wife and a mother. 
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"Shit, that fucking hurt." 
"I never heard her curse in my life." Lionel whispered to his sister. He and Emily are watching you exercising your leg with parallel bars. You tried to regain your strength and balance. 
Emily patted her brother's shoulder. "Anyone who just escaped death will have their personality to changed.”
Lionel saw you slipped away from the parallel bars. He moves fast to catch you. But you slapped his hand. You felt you hurt this boy's feelings. You apologize to him "Sorry, I'm still not used with this."
Lionel made a small nod and backed away. What you mean by 'with this' is you still can't accept the moment you wake up, and you become 40 years old without any memories.
He looked at Emily again, wanting to cry. All of this happened because of him. He decided to walk away and get some fresh air. 
Emily saw her brother leave the room. She felt bad seeing him depressed, but he needed to learn the consequences of his mistakes. It wasn’t his fault the car hit you. But if he didn’t insist to grab that damn shoes, none of this would’ve happened. 
It hurts her when she hears you have amnesia.
The way you look at her is also different. But Emily thinks it's a good thing. Because you became someone else. You seem confident and brave even though you still can't accept reality. She never sees this side of you. 
Before, you used to say yes to everything Lloyd said. You're an obedient wife. 
You're the best mother she ever knew, and she is grateful for that.
But how Lloyd, Krystal, and Lionel treated you is unfair. 
The life she had found out to be a lie. Emily used to see Lloyd as an awesome, strong, smart, and successful father. And he loves you so much. But after she grew older, she realized that what happened between both of you was not love.
It’s obsession and stubbornness. 
And her grandmother, Krystal. Emily never being close to her. She always heard her friends' stories about how their grandmother was so nice, always giving them allowance food and staying with them.
With Krystal, she doesn't have anything like that. There’s no such thing as a connection with her own grandmother. Even with all her high grades, trophies, and certificates, she never heard any compliment from Krystal. 
Lloyd and Krystal used you to get what they wanted, and they did. But they have to pay a price. That's the biggest secret in this family.
That's why she left. She felt ashamed of the horrible lie she had known for the rest of her life.
Lionel is almost the same as them, but Emily hopes he will change for good because of this accident.
‘Bzzt.’
Emily grabbed her phone and saw the name was Dr. Gabriel. He’s a senior doctor who is also in charge of you. “Good afternoon doctor.”
“Come to my office. There’s an annoying patient at my office right now. Could you check on him? I’m still giving class at the moment.”
Emily widened her eyes, she had never heard Dr.Gabriel sound annoyed and disrespectful towards any patients. He always being professional. She became curious about who the patient was. 
She turned off the phone and approached you. “Mom, I need to go. Don’t trained to hard.”
You nodded at her. “Yes. Don’t worry.” In your eyes, she’s a great kid. You’re grateful for having a smart and kind daughter. 
After Emily left, the therapist asked, “Do you want to rest?”
You shook your head and wiped the sweat from your head and hands. “Continue.” 
Even though it’s painful and you hold it in. It’s nothing compared with the feeling of knowing your father had died and you don’t have any memory of it. 
The doctor told you to have a bed rest for a few days before practicing to walk again. But you said no because you want to leave the hospital as soon as possible to see your father's grave tomb with your own eyes. 
You want answers.
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Emily walks faster to Dr. Gabriel's office room. When she arrived, the nurse immediately gave the patient record to her. She opened the door, and a man was already sitting on Dr. Gabriel's chair, facing the window.
Since he’s a senior doctor, his space is bigger than anyone. Most of his patients are also rich and famous.
No wonder Dr.Gabriel sounded annoyed at the phone. This patient already makes this room like his own. She could feel the arrogance from afar. Seems like the patient noticed someone walking into the room. He turned his chair. “You’re late.”
The patient was taken aback for a moment because he had mistaken someone.
Emily cleared her throat. “Dr. Gabriel still giving a lecture righ now. He send me instead. I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Drysdale?”
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Join the taglist:
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Series Masterlist || Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 ,Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , -
Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓
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cld9writes · 8 months
Text
✩that tight little dress✩ - namjoon x reader kinktober #2
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day two - roleplay
reader! afab!reader, fem!reader
word count! 1.9k words
tags! roleplay, wall sex, unprotected sex (don't do that.), dirty talk, self-indulgent degradation
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The man across the bar is staring at you like he’s starving. Deep, dark eyes slowly roaming over your body, lips pressed together in an attempt to keep from drooling. His finger strokes across the top of his thigh nervously. The deep red dress that hugs your figure is drawing him in, begging him to come over and flirt with you. Begging him to come over and take you back to his place. He wants to get to know every inch of your body, to rip that dress off and figure out who you are.
That’s the storyline, anyway.
You’ve decided to try something different with your boyfriend. You wouldn’t have guessed it when you started dating, but him being into roleplay made more sense as time went on. You’ve tried tons of different scenarios- college professor and his student dying for extra credit, massage therapist, royalty and their favorite suitor, forbidden lovers. But never pretending to be strangers. It seemed a little odd to him at first- why would you want to fuck a stranger when he’s right at home? But then you explained it to him-
You get the thrill and rush of feeling like you’re doing something naughty, something new. But you have the guaranteed safety net and emotional closeness of your pre-existing relationship. Once it became less about strangers and more about thrill-seeking, he was a hundred percent on board.
That’s what brought you to this dark nightclub. In your tight little dress, in your light little heels, with your tight little pussy aching to be stuffed full of cock. But you haven’t “met” him yet, so that’s entirely out of the question. At least let the man buy you a drink before he lets him take you home. 
The tall man practically glides over to you, standing a stool away from you. He waits for your eyes to meet him before 
“I know you probably don’t want to hear it from me, but you look stunning.” He opens. You smile, heart fluttering now that the scene has truly started. You giggle, trying to cover up the nerves.
“Thank you! I wanted to look nice tonight, but stunning is even better.”
“For tonight?” He wonders. “You have something special going on? I wouldn’t want to impose.” 
“I’m supposed to meet up with some friends.” You shrug, as if these non-existent friends are more party buddies than true confidants. “But don’t worry about imposing- I'd Much rather talk with you. I’m Y/N. What’s your name?”
“Kim Namjoon.” He smiles, sitting in the barstool next to you. “You have a lovely name, Y/N.”
You two continue to play the scene out over drinks. It’s fun to pretend to be these alter egos. It’s not anything special, but seeing how different your dynamic could’ve been if you met differently, or were different people, is certainly interesting. It doesn’t take long before you’re both slightly sick of the acting, though, and want to get to a different kind of fun. Namjoon breaks the silence first and clears his throat.
“Are you still meeting with your friends?” He asks. You roll your eyes, drinking the rest of your whiskey. 
“No, I’m not.” You say, completely indifferent. “Why?” Namjoon finishes his own drink before responding.
“I was wondering if you’d like to rest at my place. I’d hate for you to go home alone, and I’m sober enough to drive.”
“Why wouldn’t I just go back to mine? Make you drop me off?” You say indignantly. Something in his eyes shifts. They seem sharper, more direct. Your stomach clenches at the change.
“Because we both know what you really want,” He whispers, leaned in right next to your ear. “And I certainly can’t let you go home unsatisfied.” And that’s all it takes. Within minutes, you’ve paid the tab and left the bar.
He drives you back to “his” place, touching you the whole way. For just a moment, he dips his hand down between your legs. He doesn’t touch you, mind you, he wouldn’t dare risk fucking you in the back seat. But the closeness, the hovering, the heat of his fingers. It all makes you bite the inside of your cheek and clench your thighs together. He’s pleased with this reaction and places his hand back on top of your leg. 
He barely manages to get you through the front door before his hand has fully slipped inside your dress. He thought about you while you were walking up the stairs, but he’s fed up now. He just wants to touch you, to feel how wet you are for him. His long fingers slide over the slick bottom of your panties and he relishes in just how soaked you are.
“This worked up over a man you just met.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Shameful little girl, aren’t you?”
“Don’t be such an a-ass.” You snap, trying your best not to stammer. He’s not making it easy. He slips your panties to the side and sticks a finger inside your soaked cunt, testing the waters. The way your walls ache to clench around it tells him you need more. Ever the gentleman, that’s exactly what he gives you.
He pulls you into a kiss, the taste of whiskey still strong on his tongue. You moan into the kiss, grinding your clit down against the rough palm of his hand. He follows suit, moving his hand in small, controlled circles as he finger-fucks you. 
“I can’t wait to go to bed” He huffs. “Just let me fuck you right here.” 
“I don’t know… what if you drop me?” You know he won’t. He’s fucked you up against the wall pleanty of times. But you wanna hear him assure you.
“I never would. Trust me, I’d have to be one stupid bastard to let you fall. You’ve trusted me this much, and I know you’re aching for some cock. Just trust me one more time.” He slips a hand under your thigh, stroking your soft skin as he awaits your okay. 
“Fine.” You sigh. “Pick me up.” 
Without hesitation, he does just that. He hoists you up against the wall, holding you in one arm and pressing the two of your bodies into the wall for added support. After miraculously removing his clothing from the waist down, he taps the sides of your thigh 
You sling your legs over his hips, finally letting him support your weight. He teases your folds with the tip of his cock, fat head threatening to break you as it pushes in. You moan behind bitten lips, almost drowning out the growled “fuck” that slips out of the man before you.
His thick cock fits nearly perfectly within your plush pussy. Despite acting like you’ve never met, it’s clear your cunt has molded to his shape. It’s like he’s been designed to fill you up and hit all those spots every time. The perfect cock, all for you. 
Namjoon kisses you again, pushing you further into the wall as he begins thrusting. Because of the curl in your stomach, he’s instantly rubbing up against your g-spot. He fucks you hard and slow, desperate to feel each moan of yours vibrate on his lips.
“You’re such a slut. He spits between kisses. “You let a man you’ve never met rawdog you in his entryway? What a shame…” 
“I’m not a slu-” You attempt to protest. He chuckles and kisses you, swallowing your response.
He drops his hands down to your pussy, playing with your clit as he fucks you. The double stimulation is incredible, it’s got your mind going blank as he pushes you against the wall against and again. You’re probably going to have bruises on your shoulder blades but it doesn’t matter.
The sex is filthy. You can’t stop moaning, you can’t shut up. Your pussy is sopping wet, and each thrust fills the air with disgustingly lewd noises. Your creamy cunt is dripping everywhere, soaking his upper thighs and dripping out onto the floor. He’s teasing your clit like he isn’t pounding into your stomach, like you aren’t already about to cum. You’re babbling, going on and on about how good it feels and how happy you are it’s his cock filling you up. He tries to shut you up with kisses, but he’s getting drunk off your ramblings and can’t stop.
“You’re shameless…ngh- fuck!”
“Mhm! Mhm!” You nod desperately. You are. You’re clawing at the fabric of his shirt, desperate to get even closer. You want his dick in your stomach, in your throat. You want to be able to taste it from where it stands. Because his fingers and his cock have turned you into some kind of freak and you just want more of it.
“I’m g-gonna cum!” You pant. “Gonna cum s-soon~!” He speeds up a little bit, both his pelvis and fingers. You reach your climax, screaming in pleasure as you cream over his throbbing cock. He fucks you through your high, not giving a single shit about how sensitive you may be or how this may end for him.
Your legs shake and squeeze his sides as you ride out your orgasm, desperate for more and for it to be over at the same time. He’s still pounding into you relentlessly, and he grabs your jaw to make you look at him.
“You see how good that felt? See how good it feels to be a slut for me? You think anyone else could’ve given you that tonight? No one else would’ve bothered. But I took care of that cunt of yours. You got that?”
“Yes, sir.” 
“Sir? Aren’t you ob- fucking hell- obedient-!” His hard persona is faltering, and you can tell it’s because he’s getting close to finishing himself. He can only take so much, but his hand falls right back to teasing your clit and swollen lips. He’s desperate for you to enjoy it for just as long as he does.
Your cumming has made it difficult for him, though. The extra warmth, softness, and tightness makes it feel like you’ve become a succubus, and he wants nothing more than to give his soul to you.
His thrusts are becoming erratic and sloppy. He’s chasing a high he’s far too close to, desperate to cum inside you. Desperate to defile that perfect cunt. His breathing is ragged and fast, he sounds like he’s been running for hours. And you still can’t get a single word out. You try. You try and you try. But the pounding of his cock and his fingers on your swollen clit make the words catch in your throat and come out and moans, curses or whines. Because all you can feel, all you’re aware of.
You two end up finishing at the same time. You reach a second orgasm, creaming all over his thick shaft. This is what finally does it for him, and he finishes inside of you. You feel your insides flood with hot, sticky cum  as he leans against the wall to support your weight. His thighs are shaking against yours, and he’s trying to control his breathing. He swallows hard, trying to calm down before speaking.
“I’m so glad I met you.” He sighs, a smile tugging at his lips. He’s not acting anymore. This is much deeper, much more real. You smile, dropping your head in lieu of giving him a hug. 
“I’m glad I met you, too.” 
You come to an unspoken agreement to stay like that for just a second longer. Just until you can stand on your own again.
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and that's day two. this one is a little more disjointed cuz i literally banged this out in under two hours. sorry about that. hope y'all enjoyed tho <3
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neil-gaiman · 2 years
Note
The way I WEPT through Dream's journey with Death through her work. I can't tell you.
And it's not because it was about death and dying. There's lots of work about death and dying and I've read this arc before. Argh, writing this to you is making me cry.
It's because 1)I got to see religious Judaism at the moment of death on my screen, gentle, and warm, and loving - finally - after a life of starving for Judaism as something more than Other or Kitsch or Funny. Something that was Divine and Succorous like it is for me at the moment when a Jew needs it most. So that's the first thing, thank you for that.
I'm a social worker and a therapist and I don't know if you pay attention to how those two professions are treated in media? But very often it is also a joke or an enemy. And while I don't help people die, I do spend my time offering people time and space to be with themselves so they can go somewhere else for themselves in a way and in so doing, I am blessed to I share moments of people's lives - just like she described when she was trying to explain to Dream why she could take so much joy in her work, oh, oh it spoke to me in away the comic just didn't. So many of the moments she walked into, when people were hurting or leaving or changing but just was able to be the friendly face who shared those time with them? That's what it's like for me in my work. In the work, you aren't outside that. The woman in the encampment could have been one of my clients from when I did housing and shelter work and Sam could have been one of my talk therapy clients and you live it with them all of them. You are with and a part of people when you try to ease suffering by sharing your empathy and understanding and oh, god, Neil, I love it, the work. The moment she said it's not everyone who loves what they do I just felt seen. It meant everything to hear that articulated by a mouth other than mine for once. I know she's something different for everyone but for Death to give me a way to see the intimacy, honor, love and joy of being permitted to share delicate time with another human being, one who is almost always a stranger, expressed with love and honor and gentleness, truly, finally, after years of that concept being mocked and inclined and demonized and insulted even if it's through Death as a metaphor? It was healing for me.
Just so much about Death was healing for me. The execution of it, the original story you wrote, Kirby Howell-Baptiste's performance. It soothed something in me that I didn't need was raw from fighting upstream and I just want you to know that. Thank you all so much.
That was beautiful. Thank you.
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orion4ever · 5 months
Note
HIIII! It's the paranormal enthusiast mc anon again, I loved that SMSM THANK YOUUU! I'm back with another request :)
(Sorry if this is worded wierd, I couldn't figure out how to word it lmao)
Could I request a Baxter x past dance partner MC? MC used to do competitive dancing, and during contests and competitions in their past the two were often paired together. They immediately clicked the first time they danced together, and paired with eachother every chance they could get. After step 2, maybe mc stopped dancing or something happened that caused them to stop being paired together/not see eachother as often, and they didn't meet again until the summer :)
gsjskw aaaaaah I don't know how to word this correctly and I apologize if it's too specific, feel free to change this around or edit it if you want to!
Thank you again, and have a wonderful day/night! :>
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Author’s Note: ….Okay this is freaky af because I WAS LITERALLY RETHINKING THIS SCENARIO IN MY HEAD. Are you a mind reader? 😦 if you couldn’t tell, I went HARD with this request! I wrote this with the MC and Baxter not meeting at the Soiree moment but at this competition instead.
Pairing: Baxter Ward x MC
🖤🤍
Let me set the stage-
You and Baxter are both very talented dancers , maybe the best in the pacific region’s teen category.
You have been fostering this skill since you were a little kid and have proven to your dancing instructor at the Cypress of your affinity with ballroom dancing.
All the cypresses in America held a ballroom dance competition with each Cypress nominating one person per age group to represent their location at the contest.
At age 13, you were selected to represent the teen and pre-teen category!
You were a bit nervous about it, especially it being your first competition.
You also didn’t expect to be making a charming new friend, or a future summer boyfriend.
˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ
You stood in the huge dancing hall, the tall shiny roof and shiny marble floors showing a reflection of yourself. The trip hadn’t been too long, this year’s annual competition took place at a Cypress in Nevada.
You looked around the room and noticed people of varying ages, you zeroed in on any kids around your age to ‘scope out the competition’ as your instructor would call it.
In the distance, an older gentleman pulled a mic from under a cabinet in a far-off corner of the room and tapped it a few times.
“Testing….testing…Welcome! To the annual ballroom competition. We would like to thank all our out-of-staters for making the trip to the Cypress’s Nevada location.”
The big room echoed with a loud applause from the crowd. The older man allowed them to finish before continuing.
“For any new competitors, I will quickly go over any etiquette and rules. Two competitors, each representing a different state but sharing an age category will pair up. They will be competing together and will both receive a trophy for their Cypress.”
Some of the pre-teens groaned at having to socialize with strangers, earning a few giggles from the older dancers.
“We do this to save on time and…to make it more interesting. As dancers, you should experiment with other dancing partners to see who matches your style and rhythm; like a therapist.”
The older gentleman added that last part to joke but it only earned a cough and an awkward laugh from the other side of the room.
“…AHEM. Uh yeah! We will start with the younger category, Categories teens and up should begin pairing with their dancing partners. Remember, it’s all friendly competition here!”
The older gentleman put the mic down and scratched his head, clearly embarrassed that his one joke landed flat.
The little kids all ran towards the middle of the dance floor and started pairing up quickly with each other, laughing and already giving each other hugs.
You envied how quickly they could make friends and pair up, maybe it’s them not having any awkwardness to them yet. You couldn’t say the same for the other categories all either awkwardly shuffling towards new people or instantly jogging towards acquaintances and friends.
You stood to the side and looked around, you were a bit anxious about the possibility that you would be left without a partner. You weren’t mentally prepared to meet any new dance partner.
You twiddled your thumbs and watched on. You were just about to test your luck with a teen who looked just as awkward when you felt a noticeable tap on your shoulder.
You turned around and spotted a very handsome boy, maybe a year older than you. His casual smile widened when he got a look at your face. His hair was a dark black. His skin, was pale and pink at the cheeks. A mole placed on his neck and finally the most intense
Deep brown eyes.
He looked as if he should be modeling for DIOR or if he should be a star in some movie. His neatly pressed suit made him look like a prince.
“Hello there. I am Baxter, Baxter Ward.” He introduced himself, extending a hand for you to shake.
“I noticed that you don’t have a partner and I was hoping to fix that.” He said. The young man had a distinctive voice.
You gave him a neutral smile and shook his hand back.
“I am Y/N L/N. It’s nice to meet you.” You greeted him in return and then answered his question.
“That would be great actually, This is my first competition so I am a little all over the place.” You chuckled nervously, rubbing your arm. The brown-eyed boy nodded.
“It gets easier, I promise.” He reassured before asking a different question.
“Which state are you representing?”
“Oh, uh I am representing California!” You replied, crossing your arms proudly. Baxter’s face somehow brightened even more.
“Oh, wow! How wonderful, I am representing Oregon.” He chuckled. You made a small exaggerated gasp before lightly clapping your hands together.
“We’re like..like neighbors! That's so cool!” You grinned.
Baxter paused at the thought, putting a hand to his chin in an equally exaggerated way.
“I never thought of it that way..” he said thoughtfully before giving you a polite but genuine smile.
“Let’s do good for Oregon and California then.” He said confidently, you nodded at the sentiment.
You and your new dance partner now stood next to each other, watching the little babies dance with each other. While they’re dancing was silly, they all looked to be having fun and some even paused their swinging to ask the other what their favorite colors were or if they wanted to get ice cream after the competition.
Baxter made an amused sound before turning back to you, wanting to make conversation and also…wanting to hear your insight.
“If only we could all make friends that quickly.” He sighed softly, stuffing a hand in his pocket.
“Tell me about it.” You chuckled. “What makes it easier for them anyway? Are they just more social?” You questioned more to fill the air than actually wanting hearing an answer so you weren’t expecting Baxter to reply with his own opinion.
“I personally think it’s because they aren’t as burdened with fears of rejection yet, it makes them more confident.” He commented. You blinked before agreeing.
“That makes sense. I wonder where all that confidence goes when we age.”
It was silent again, the younger categories finished up their round with everybody including the both of you, giving a round of applause for them.
“We will now have the preteen and teen division go up next.”
Baxter turned to you and offered a hand. “Shall we?”
You in return, took his hand “We shall.”
The two of you walked to the middle of the room and got into position. Baxter took the initiative and offered to lead. The older gentleman behind the counter hit a few buttons to activate the music in the speakers. The other contestants began to dance and spin around, unlike how silly and unserious the way the babies danced; everybody currently on the floor struggled to get acquainted with their dance partner’s style. Lots of accidental stepping-on and half spins that didn’t go through.
You and Baxter were extremely different though. While you guys did start a little rocky, with never dancing with each other before. The two of you warmed up quickly and danced very well together.
You two swung and spun around as if you guys had danced with each other billions of times.
But more importantly, it looked as if Baxter was having fun dancing with you.
And you enjoyed how familiar and fun it was to dance with him.
Baxter whispered something to you, “You are very talented,….and you have nice legs.”
“Wait what?”
It was now an unofficial tradition to pair up together, and you guys did for the next two years. While you and Baxter weren’t that close back then, you still had fun conversing with one another and being able to dance so freely with each other; you enjoyed how straightforward he was and lightly teased him for how formal he sounded and he played around and equally enjoyed your company, you didn’t know it then but you two felt a click.
So it was extremely unfortunate when you injured your ankle permanently and would have to stop dancing for a while, it had happened during the winter so you weren’t able to tell that charming boy goodbye or to explain to him why his dance partner had suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth. It broke your heart, that those sparks you had when you danced with him would never be replicated.
You never thought you would see him again, Until that fateful summer of 2016. You sat in both awe and shock as Baxter stepped out from the passenger side of his taxi, he turned towards you and Cove; his neutral eyes narrowing when he took a look at you before a look of recollection replaced it.
“…Y/N? Is that you over there?” He questioned loud enough for you to hear.
“BAXTER??”
Cove looked between the both of you. “Huh?”
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mayajadewrites · 5 months
Text
Levi Ackerman x Reader: Almost
Chapter Six: Coffee Ice Cream
Chapter Summary: We start off in Levi's POV, getting more insight on him and what he's thinking. He invites you over for TV and some ice cream. Nothing more. *tehe*
Fanfic Preface: Modern AU Levi Ackerman x Reader fanfic I’ve been dying to write! Levi is my latest hyper fixation so this was bound to happen. There will be other AOT characters in the mix, but remember this is a modern AU!
WARNING: SMUT AHEAD
ao3 link
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☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕ LEVI ☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕
It's been a few days since our little incident. I didn't want to come off as obsessive, which I may or may not be, but I knew if I wanted this to last and bloom I needed to give her space to continue to be her own person.
"Mr. Ackerman, I've meal prepped for you for the next week and there's a load of laundry going." My housekeeper, Daisy, says as she fixes her apron. "Is there anything else you need me to do?"
"No, thanks Daisy." I nod for her to dismiss as I walk through my mansion.
Honestly, I'm not sure why I have a housekeeper. No one cleans like I do. I guess I keep her around for the cooking since I'm shit at that. Cleaning has always relieved my stress and makes me forget where I am in the world.
I didn't start off as a millionaire, almost billionaire. I started at the very bottom, with my mother.
We used to live in homeless shelters and sometimes strangers couches, until she fell ill because of our living circumstances. I watched my mother wither away in front of me, like a rose.
"Levi, promise me you will be something." I remember she said to me as she was taking her last few breaths. "Mommy will always watch over you."
Then she was gone.
Social services picked me up after that and I went to live with my aunt and uncle. They lived comfortably in middle class with no kids - lucky me.
I'd like to think mom would be happy with how far I've come.
☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕
"Levi, your new assistant starts today. Don't run her off, please." Hange gives a pleading look. "She's nice."
"Nice and competent are two separate things." I continue to jot down notes from a contract I'm reading.
"Levi, this is Juliet. Your assistant." Hange walked into my office with, who I'm assuming is Juliet. She's young, with long blonde hair and brown eyes. Conventionally attractive.
"Nice to meet you Mr. Ackerman. What do you need me to do first? Do you want me to get you coffee?"
"I don't drink coffee. I drink tea. And I get that myself." I look up from my desk. "Hange, have her go over my schedule for meetings next week and make sure everything is in order."
"Sure thing boss." Hange left with Juliet, closing my door gently behind them. I have a therapy appointment today, thankfully it's virtual. I open my laptop and sign into the portal to initiate the meeting.
"Levi! You look good!" My therapist, Maria, smiles.
"Thank you. The camera probably smooths out my skin."
"So, tell me about your week. What are you feeling, what's going on, all that jazz."
"I punched a guy in the face last week."
"Levi! What did we talk about with your anger?"
"I did think it over. I thought before I punched, and after. I don't regret it."
Maria shook her head, bringing her glasses to the bridge of her nose. "Ay dios mio, you make my job so hard sometimes."
"That's why you get paid the big bucks, right?" I let out a rare chuckle.
"Why did you do that?"
Because he was touching whats mine.
"I thought he was going to take advantage of someone."
"Who's this someone?"
"I don't want to tell you about her yet. Then that means its serious."
"You punched a man because of her, that's not serious enough?"
"No. It's not. I'm 30 years old, Maria. I've never had a real relationship so I'm navigating it the only way I know how."
"Levi, she is not your mother. You can't treat her like she is a fragile human being. She has feelings, like you, and she is her own person. Does she want to be serious?"
"I'm not sure. We're ... dating? I guess that's different from being in a relationship."
"Ah, taking things slow. I see. Well, tell me about her."
"She works at my favorite coffee shop that I go to every day before work. Except I get tea. Anyways, I've seen her almost every day for 6 months and I've had long and short conversations with her. Only recently have we started seeing each other."
"And what are you scared of?" Maria's question stumped me.
I'm scared of everything.
I'm scared of losing her. I'm scared of losing what I have. I'm scared of starting a family only to have it ripped from me.
"Levi?" Maria snapped me out of my thoughts.
"I'm scared of, a lot. My feelings scare me. I feel, protective over her. I feel like I want to savor every moment we're together. I'm also scared she's going to run off once she truly sees my life."
I'm rich, like, filthy rich. She works hard for her money, lives alone, and has dreams of opening her own coffee shop. Which I can help with.
She's used to doing everything for herself. She doesn't have a housekeeper, a chef, none of that. She cooks, cleans, and does everything herself.
Everything I want in a woman is in her.
"You can't go around anticipating people leaving." Maria tapped her pen on her notebook. "You know what I say, everything happens for a reason. There's a reason you connected with her and there's a reason you feel the way you do about her. I don't think it would hurt to explore those feelings more."
After your therapy session, I decide I'm inviting her over for the first time. I want her to see how I am, in my house, and I want to observe how she is.
Me: Are you busy tonight?
Her: If by busy you mean I have a date with a pint of coffee ice cream and Grey's Anatomy, then yes.
Me: Would you like to do that here?
Her: Here is where?
She's gonna make me work for this.
Me: Here as in my house. I'll pick you up at 7.
☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕ BRATTY BARISTA ☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕
After getting ready for Levi's, you take a look at yourself in the mirror. Your outfit consists of leggings, crew socks, sneakers, a low cut tank top and a zip up hoodie. You can't lie, part of you wants Levi to continue what he started at your place last week. The other part of you is scared shitless to go to his mansion.
At 7 PM sharp, you hear tires roll in front of your place. By the time you lock your doors, Levi is waiting outside the passenger door for you. He kisses your cheek before letting you in the car, scanning your body.
You study the drive from your place to his - about 20 minutes. Levi lives in a rich, residential area with plenty of land to spare.
Walking into his home, it's spotless. Like, actually spotless. No dust anywhere, nothing is out of place, even the remotes on his coffee table.
"I bought some coffee ice cream and I have Netflix set up for that show already - Grey's what?"
"Grey's Anatomy. You're watching it with me?"
"I was serious when I asked you if you wanted to do that here. Can we start from the 1st episode?" Levi grabbed 2 spoons and the pint of ice cream.
"Sure." You walk over to the couch, which looks like a cloud, and sink your body into it. So this is what it's like to have money.
Levi pressed play, opening the pint. He plunged his spoon into the ice cream as neatly as he could, bringing it to your lips.
You open your mouth slowly, letting him insert the spoon into your mouth. You stare at his eyes as you lick the spoon, getting lost in the clouds that live in his eyes. He pulled the spoon out of your mouth, taking a scoop for himself.
Levi had coffee ice cream residue on his bottom lip, which he quickly licked away. You stared at his chiseled jawline as he watched the show, his eyes moving back and forth with the scenes.
Eventually Levi put the ice cream away, knowing we would eat it again later. As he sat down next to you again, you couldn't help but notice a bulge in his pants.
We meet again.
Levi put his arm around the back of the couch, leaning back so his chest was stretched out. You could see his collarbone peeking out of his shirt, along with his sculpted muscles.
"You're not even watching, brat." Levi interrupted your daydream.
"I'm watching something else." You turn your body toward him. "It's much more interesting."
"What do you mean? I think it's ok so far -" Levi directs his attention back on the tv, getting lost in the plot.
You took advantage of this moment and unzipped your hoodie a bit, exposing your cleavage. He didn't seem to notice, but he will soon.
You slide into him, making sure he can feel your body against his. He looks down at you through his jet black locks, seemingly by surprise.
"What-"
"Shhhh." You press your finger to his lips, pulling your leg over his lap so you're straddling him. "You can't talk until I'm done. I mean it. Not a word." When did you suddenly get bold?
Levi's erection was more prominent now, pulsing against your thigh. You trail kisses down his face, neck, chest, and eventually you snake down to your knees, in front of his belt buckle.
You look up at Levi, who's mouth is open like he wants to say something.
"Remember the rules, Mr. Ackerman." You wiggle your finger, unbuckling his belt. "Not a word until I'm done."
His belt slid off with ease, as you pulled his slacks down to his ankles. His dick print through his boxer briefs startled you, but you're not gonna stop now. You spread his legs, pushing yourself in between them.
You drag your fingertips down his stomach to his pelvic region, tracing the 'V' line gently. You glanced to look at Levi, who's eyes were dead set on you.
His underwear came off, and his dick slapped his abs. Your eyes grew wide from his size, knowing you might have bit off more than you can chew.
You take one hand and start pumping his dick slowly, brushing your thumb over the tip. Pre-cum leaked from the slit, motivating you to pump harder.
You take some of the pre-cum from your finger and slid it into your mouth with a 'pop' sound. Levi groans, letting his head fall back.
You bring your lips to his tip, sucking it gently while pumping his shaft. You could not take all of him in yet, but you will. Your other hand starts massaging his balls, which hitched his breath. Your tongue caressed every vein in his dick, paying special attention to the tip.
Levi finally put one of his hands in your hair, directing you on his dick. You took more and more of him in, eventually hitting your gang reflex, but you didn't care. The look on Levi's face is worth it. He whimpers as your tongue cascades along his length, the sounds alone causing him to almost overstimulate.
Levi moaned your name before you felt his dick start pulsating in your mouth and his hand pulled your hair roughly. "Where do you want me to cum?" Levi said with short breaths.
"In my mouth."
It was less of a mess that way.
That must have sent Levi over the edge. He unleashed his load in your mouth, holding your hair tightly.
You snake your body up to his face and smile, swallowing his load.
"Fuck." Levi caught his breath, kissing your lips gently. "My turn." Levi pulled you onto the couch, laying you down horizontally. "But you can be as loud as you want."
Levi slid your leggings off, revealing your hot pink thong. He played with the straps before sliding them down your legs, kissing your thighs as he passed by.
Your core was drenched at this point from sucking his dick alone, and seeing him at your pussy sent you to another planet.
He slid two fingers in without warning, pulled them out, and sucked them while keeping his eyes on yours. "What a good girl. So wet for me." Levi started pumping his fingers, curling at your clit.
"Levi.." You moan his name, curling your toes. Levi presses his hand on your stomach, sitting his face in-between your thighs. His lips touched your pussy, sending electricity up and down your body.
The entire time, his eyes are on you. Watching every face you make, listening to every moan. Levi ate pussy like it was his last meal. His tongue and fingers invaded you and made it their home instead. Your walls started to pulsate as his tongue went in and out of you, devouring every last drop.
"So beautiful." Levi mumbled against you, curling his fingers one last time before the world went away around you. The feeling is euphoric. A man hasn't made you feel like this, ever. You've pleasured yourself enough to give yourself an orgasm, but this is different.
"Levi." You moan loudly, gripping his hair, riding out your high. You could not focus on one thing - there were no thoughts in your head. Levi ate you through your high until your legs were shaking uncontrollably.
Making his way to your lips, Levi kissed you gently, the sheen of your arousal all over his mouth.
"I wish I could savor this taste forever." He groaned, putting his hand behind your neck and pressing you into him gently.
His lips moved with purpose, making sure every inch is taken care of. Your lips are plump from all the arousal, your heart feels like its beating out of your chest.
"Do you still want to watch Grey's Anatomy?"
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detachedfacade · 1 year
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cw: panic attacks
Steve hadn't been coping well. He hadn't been for a few years, really. But he thought he had got over all of that, gotten past the nightmares and the insomnia. Since his very first run in with the upside down, Steve knew there had been underlying issues he was ignoring. His hearing loss, eyesight issues, nerve pain that seems to come and go with the wind. And the worst, frequent but unpredictable major panic attacks. He had never gone to the doctors for any of it. At first it was more about being an arrogant boy rejecting the need for help. More recently it was a matter of money.
After pulling Munson's body out of the upside down, Steve had blacked out. Hit his head on the counter in the trailer and, according to Robin, had a seizure. He didn't remember that. What he did remember was waking up in the hospital and immediately panicking about the bill, about the fact his parents had taken him off the insurance.
The nurse tried to calm him down, put her hands on his shoulders. But his body was tense and he couldn't breathe, and every noise that passed through his head felt fuzzy and painful and he pushed her back, hard. She returned with a doctor not long later but long enough that Steve had started picking at his stitches trying to pull them out. "I can't afford it." He said, knowing in the back of his mind his actions weren't rational, yet still unable to stop.
It was this panic attack that kept him in the hospital longer. Not just to clean up the wounds he had made a mess of but to deal with what was obvious to the doctors, his anxiety disorder. Steve refused to speak to any counsellors or therapists, what could he say to them that they'd believe? Ultimately they ended up putting him on a high dosage of diazepam and sent him on his way, told him his parents had taken care of the bill.
"My parents?" He asked. And the receptionist nodded over to the waiting room where they sat, his father pouring over the sports section of a day old newspaper, his mother chatting to a stranger sat beside her.
It was uncomfortable, but Steve had been uncomfortable for years. "Thanks for paying." Steve said. "I wouldn't have been able to…"
"It isn't a problem." His mother interjected. "It's…you're our son. I regret how things -" She sighed, looked up to the ceiling, blinked. "We thought we lost you, Steven. After the earthquake we rushed to your place, that awful little apartment and it was completely…It was just rubble. And the firemen couldn't tell us if you were in there…"
His father gripped her shoulder, rubbed his thumb in circles over her cashmere cardigan.
"Son." He said. "You're coming home with us, okay? You can hate us. We can have our differing opinions. I care more to know you are safe."
If he could, Steve would have cried then. But he hadn't cried in front of his father since he was five years old. He wasn't sure he was capable of it.
"Thank you." He said. "I don't really have any stuff."
"Everything you left is still in your bedroom." His mother said. "They may not be your favourite but I'm sure you'll still fit into all of your old clothes."
Steve wasn't necessarily excited about the idea of moving back home, losing the freedom he had found in that little apartment of his. But he was tired, he had nowhere else to go - not if he didn't want to be a burden to the Buckley's or the Henderson's. And frankly, he could use some parental love, even if it was conditional, even if it wouldn't last. So he followed them through the parking lot into the car. Took the seat on the left in the back, the one he had always sat in as a child, where the leather is more worn down and the window doesn't wind down all the way. And he felt like a child again, tucked into the back of his parents' lives.
After surviving the upside down, Eddie is concerned to find out Steve has moved back in with his homophobic parents. alternate title: Eddie Munson is Not Okay (I Promise).
Read more on ao3.
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bigstupid69 · 8 months
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u seem rly cool and I am too nervous to not use anonymous on these things but please I wanna hear stuff about your Penny Lamb so badly after seeing random people saying it was inaccurate
Thank you anon I'll put them under the cut
Okay first off and I'm not bashing this hc whatsoever and I literally use these pronouns, but I do not think she would be entirely okay with it/it's pronouns being used on her after the whole Jane Doe incident, since y'know being called a freaky monster isn't really a compliment? Penny is weird I know that, but I also just don't think she really enjoyed being Jane Doe, like at all. In fact I think it was pretty traumatic for her, I've shown this in fics I've abandoned but she has a very complicated relationship with herself and her identity after the incident. It's obviously hallucinations from declining mental health and the fact Uranium probably doesn't have a licensed therapist. But still, almost turns into a sense of derealization or dissociation.
After the accident at least with my Jane Doe design the little cracks on the dolls head basically turn into scars, I've also just given her extra since I like drawing scars they're cool. I don't remember what eye it was I think it was right, but she's partially blind and uses a glass eye after the incident. She likes to take it out and freak people out.
I think I've only seen this in some fics but she is not like dumb, at all. She's silly and weird yeah, but she is very smart and actually knows how to do things. I mean she's literally taking care of Ezra and is practically a mother figure to him at this point because of their parents being arrested.
She skates and she sucks at it, one of the reasons why she is constantly looking like she got hit by a semi-truck.
She worked as a scare actor with Mischa at the fair before the incident.
I don't wanna make this about perfectdolls but this can just be in general, Penny would NOT use a normal ass petname for anyone. She would just use some random ass word, I made it a joke that she just calls Ocean different names of bodies of water that get progressively more stranger everytime.
Shes a contortionist, and purposely creeps people the fuck out because of it. Also one of the reasons why she was a scare actor for the fair as a part time job.
Also she hates the cameras since it reminds her too much of the Johnny Moon incident, mugshots, she literally maimed a guy
Anyways there's definitely more but here you go
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blubushie · 4 months
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you have aspd? youve never mentioned it before
I've never mentioned it purely because the internet isn't entitled to every last bit of my medical or psychiatric information, but yes. I was diagnosed with ASPD, suspected nomadic subtype (though I also express some paranoia-related malevolent traits) when I was 18.
My determining symptoms were (better be thankful for this cuz I had to get my fucken paperwork out):
"Failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviours" I got in fights a lot in high school, I wagged school, I frequently ran away from home even after being threatened with gaol time if I continued, and I was suspended a lot for being late--being late to things specifically is a middle ground because "being late" is also an ADHD thing but at least now I have a complex about Never Being Late To Anything.
"Deceitfulness, as indicated by use of aliases" 9/10 times if someone asks me my name I'm giving them a fake name in case I was in trouble for something. I still do this. Covers my back. Once I stop being strangers with someone they get Blu or my legal.
"Impulsivity or inability to plan ahead" I'm great at making plans even though it's hard to stick to them. I'm very impulsive though.
"Irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults" It's specifically repeated physical fights (and verbal arguments with my parents). I don't typically start fights but I do end them. That said my relationship with my parents is much better now that I don't live with my mum.
"Reckless disregard for safety of self" It's specifically disregard for my own safety. Though it was noted that I was "highly sympathetic" to the safety of others. (I will drive recklessly on a dirt track by myself but I am a highly vigilant driver on common roads.)
"Lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt or mistreated another." This one's one that my therapist wasn't sure on because my mood fluctuates so much. There's times I won't feel remorse in the moment but will feel remorse after, there's days I feel remorse for nothing and wake up with a mentality of "everyone is on my shit list" where the smallest fuck-up will set me off and I feel zero remorse after, and there's days where I'm constantly apologising for every little thing. We've approached the possibility of me being bipolar though, so it's possible that the remorse fluctuations are simply bipolar mania and depression working their cycle. However my therapist also mentioned that my perception of remorse might be skewed, because when I'm apologising for something I take on a "passive approach" so it seems less like I'm actually remorseful and more that I just don't want someone to be angry or upset with me. If you ask me, I feel bad for upsetting them so yeah, of course I'm gonna apologise. She was right about my passiveness though--a lot of times if I feel I've fucked up with someone, I'll continue being passive with them because I feel I owe it to them to let them be an arsehole to me. Anyhow, the jury's out on my lack of remorse, but what I'm confirmed to have is a "considerate lack of empathy." So that's neat. Also adding on it was hard for my therapist to figure this one out because I usually feel justified in the actions I take, and there's a difference between lack of remorse knowing you've hurt someone, and lack of remorse because you feel you were justified in your actions against or toward them, especially in cases of defending yourself. (For example, "I don't feel bad for hitting him because he knows I have CPTSD and I react violently to people startling me from behind, therefore it's not my fault and he knew the risk he was taking so I don't feel bad.") Apparently she couldn't get a straight answer out of me and I was "avoiding" the topic, so I'm written down as lack of remorse. Personally I'd argue against that cuz I feel a lot of remorse about a lot of things, it's just that often I feel I'm entirely justified in whatever I've done and therefore shouldn't feel bad about something.
The jury's also out on whether or not I have an addictive personality. Up until my diagnosis I'd been doing shrooms (I still do shrooms) but I used them responsibly as they're non-addictive. However I was expressing behavioural addictions like dermatophagia and dermatillomania for years (a habit I didn't break until two years ago), and trichotillomania when I was around 12, but my psychiatrist thought that all of these may have been a symptom of the OCD I'm suspected to have instead of my ASPD, or maybe a combination of both. While I've used addictive drugs, I practise harm reduction to prevent myself from becoming addicted. Alcoholism is the only legitimate addiction I've ever had, but apparently my sexual proclivities can be filed under reckless behaviour, so I'm really not doing myself any favours here. 😅
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askgeraudduroc · 4 months
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( from @general-junot)
Hey bestie! Just wanted to let you know that Napoleon loves me more than he could ever love you <3
Oh. Junot.
Unfortunately, Duroc can't answer as he was turned into a... Sheep by a stranger. I will thank you if you don't ask further.
Please, don't begin with that silly game of who i love more. You are just being foolish. I'm incredibly busy right now as i have to answer not only my correspondence, but Duroc's also! That's why i couldn't visit you in your... Uh... Therapy was it? It doesn't matter.
I atleast hope that your... Therapist? Is treating you decently. Because otherwise... I will have a few words with them.
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butchsophiewalten · 5 months
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Hey, so I heard about ppl saying that there might be unhealthy,, idk undertones in jenny’s and sophie’s relationship? Like a power imbalance or something. Do you know anything about it? Thanks!
I mean, sure, maybe, there could be a power imbalance there, depending on how you choose to look at it. I don't think that's inherently a problem or anything to be upset over, it's honestly fine for that be kind of a point of contention on their relationship.
For me the Jenny Psych Major information drop slots very comfortably into my personal ideas/headcanons I already had for Jenny and her relationship with Sophie, where Jenny's been through some difficult things in her life and has persevered through them, and learning that is a big wake-up call for Sophie, who had previously sort of assumed she had just never been through anything really bad before, and that's why she's so well-adjusted compared to him. And how learning that about one of the most important people in the world to him actually made him feel really hopeful for his own future, that if Jenny could heal from something terrible and live comfortably on the other side of it, maybe he could, too.
So I've been liking the idea of Jenny studying Psychology as a way to learn about her own psyche, and better understand the problems she herself was going through. My ideal timeline for this would be that Sophie doesn't know about Jenny being a psych major for the first while that they know eachother, and maybe even for a while after their relationship sort of intensifies, (Not that Jenny keeps it a secret or anything, it just never really comes up in conversation,) and for the first while after finding out, it really freaks Sophie out. It revives in him a lot of those feelings of being under the microscope in a therapist's office, of feeling like a freak and a lab rat, of feeling like a stranger and an outsider even in his relationship with the person he trusts most in the world, and that realizing her motivations for going into psych were motivated primarily by her desire to understand her own problems serves the same kinda purpose as my other idea, helping Sophie to understand Jenny more as a person who, in a lot of meaningful ways, is a lot like him, and isn't this sort of intimidating outside force that he needs to consider himself wholly separate from, if you get what I mean.
I really don't think Jenny is like. Studying sophie, or anything. I don't think that their relationship is massively imbalanced by Jenny knowing a lot about psychology in the face of her girlfriend having mental health problems. I think it's OK.
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its-blip-on-the-radar · 2 months
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[ID: A grayscale digital drawing of a broken pencil with a butterfly standing on top of it. The butterfly also has a broken wing. The background has an overlay of a galaxy pattern and also a paper texture giving it some color around the edges. Text across the top reads "art is dead."]
I don't know who I am anymore
I wish I was able to come back and tell you guys all about my experiences with recent events but all of it... All of it was about people being bigoted to me. I can't make positive comics about my psych ward stay, or me moving into a new place (that is actually safe and accepting thank the gods) or my day to day life because... The psych ward stay fucked me up a lot, and now I'm dealing with ableism practically daily, because I've almost completely lost my ability to mask. Strangers are being cruel to me, between demonizing me and getting me kicked out of places, to infantilizing me and treating me like I'm a lost two year old, it's just been... a lot.
I originally made these comics because I wanted to show people my reality. I used to be proud of it. I liked showing off that despite all these big scary mental disorders, I could survive, I could maybe even thrive like this!
...But I'm not thriving.
Ever since I recieved the news that tumblr sold their soul to the AI overlords, my desire to create digital art plummeted. I was already contemplating quitting when I returned from the psych ward because the stay fucked me up so bad I was convinced I deserved to be ashamed. I didn't deserve to put myself out there to be seen and accepted because my disorders make it easy to demonize me. That's all the psych ward did for almost two weeks, is drill into my head I was a "bad patient" and that I should never be proud of who I am, because who I am needs to be corrected.
And the news about tumblr almost sealed the coffin for me.
What actually sealed this metaphorical coffin for me was my therapist. I was discussing with him my disdain for creating (thinking digital art was the only "valid" format I could create in) and he pointed out to me that I was technically still creating. I was scrapbooking, and painting, and sculpting, but I was drowning in the guilt of not updating on here, not having anything to show here. I've always had the mentality that the only kind of art worth sharing online was digital because it was the only way I could share my art in perfect quality. I don't have my camera anymore so I'm reliant on my phone for traditional art images and my phone camera sucks. So... it felt like I had nothing. And then... My therapist pointed out the obvious. I was in fact still creating. I was also indulging in the things I had always ignored about myself in my childhood. My love of insects and butterflies specifically, my desire to get good at home repair, my passion for gardening, bird watching, fashion, video games, organization, all of it.
I have been creating this whole time. I've also been healing this whole time. But this conversation also made me realize something fundamental about my existence.
The only reason digital art was my sole medium of choice for most of my existence as an artist was because my parents convinced me it was the only way to be a successful artist.
If... you went back and asked 5 year old me what I wanted to do with my life, I would've told you "I want to be an artist" and to some degree I did accomplish that. But the key thing there is when I said that I meant a fine artist. Someone who creates traditional art for museums and shows and stuff. I didn't want to be a graphic artist, or an animator, or any of that. I wanted to be a traditional artist. But my parents were very abusive and strict. They told me the only professions I could pursue were anything that would guarantee earn me money (They often told me my only actual options were doctor, scientist, or lawyer) so I wasn't allowed to hone my skills in the traditional format. If I wanted to earn my right to go to an art school for college, I had to pour myself into the most "successful" format of art. Digital.
This... is a really long winded way of me saying, I'm probably going to be switching to posting traditional media on here, if I post at all. The AI thing really took a blow to my self confidence (knowing people think a computer can do a better job than you at something as human as art, kinda sucks) so we'll see. But I want to come back to Love and Injury eventually. It will take a while but I will. I'm not completely adverse to digital, it's just not what I really want to be doing. I need a pretty long break from it right now. So... If you care about me, if you care about my stories, my life, my work, please stick around. I'll try to post art commentary and other peoples work, and update about my life for those who care. I may even post my newer traditional stuff. But... to those of you who gave my art a chance in the first place, thank you.
I really hope I don't let you all down.
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matcha-green-bear · 1 year
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✩pt.1: I told the moon about you
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✩ paring: celestial!Seonghwa x f!reader
✩ genre: Hwa moon au, fluff, romance, strangers to lovers
✩ summery: At the end of the day, all she has is books, music, and her letters to the moon. Someday someone will bring the moon down for her in the shape of their love. . . .who knew it would've been the moon himself.
✩ warnings: cheesy romance, suggestive, mentions of loss (mc lost a family member and talks about it), sad themes, Seonghwa flirting👀😂, very cheesy flirting🤭
✩ wordcount: 835
✩ taglist: @justaaveragereader ​, @marievllr-abg ​, @owlmylove ​, @hwaightme ​, @layzfeelit ​, @bae4choi​, @jackinmyarea
✩ a/n: Taglist is open! Just shoot me an ask!💚 This chapter was cute!! akjnrgk especially when mc and Hwa meet🥹 Man they were so cute😭🤭 Had me giggling while I was writing it!! Ooh also did you know that it takes 27 days, 7 hours, and 43 minutes for our Moon to complete one full orbit around Earth!
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   "You know if you do this, you'll never be able to return, right?" He looked into his friend's eyes worryingly, "Yes, I'm fully aware of the consequences, but that's why I'm appointing you to take over. Joong, I've never felt this strongly in my entire existence. She speaks to me like I am who I am, not the big space rock everyone sees in the sky. I know she doesn't know, but this yearning feeling will never go away and continues to pull at my heart. Even if all we become are acquaintances, being so close will be enough for me." Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa. He didn't understand what Hwa felt, but what he does know is that he has never seen Seonghwa, so passion filled. Hwa truly fell in love with a silly human who talks to the moon, not even one of those humans that other humans deem 'important.' Deep down, he knew this would ultimately make Hwa happy. "Seonghwa I'll grant you your wish but grant me mine and just visit for each night till the next full moon and when seeing or meeting her in person, you still feel the feeling you say, and they do not diminish even a little! Then and only then will I give you a human life." Seonghwa was so happy he could barely contain his excitement, but before he could do anything, it was like Hongjoong read his mind. "Eh, don't even think about thanking me. Please, let's just see how the visits go, Hwa."
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   You sat on your windowsill, window open, letting the crisp autumn air engulf you, bringing you at ease. You sighed, looking at the moon. "You know I miss her and her warmth, her presence, her fragrance when enveloped by absence, I miss her. Today, I miss her just like I did yesterday, and I will miss her tomorrow just the same. She loved you as much as I do, you know. She taught me all about your phases and the constellations." "She sounds truly wonderful." Taken aback by the sudden voice you look down to see a man standing in the moonlight, he was ethereal, blonde hair moving with the light breeze. A stranger, yes, but you felt at ease being higher up and basically in your home. "She was more than wonderful. She was so much more." You weren't even looking at the man anymore as you spoke. The night sky had your full attention.
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   "Do you talk to him often?" Confused by his question, you looked down at him. He seemed you find your confused state amusing. The man chuckled and looked up at the sky, looking at the moon. "You know the saying, 'the man in the moon' that's what I meant by him." He was amusing to you as well. His silly quip had you smiling down at him. “Funny enough, and you'll probably find this strange, but I do talk to him often, every night, really. Helps me when I'm feeling down." Oddly what you said brought a smile to his face. "I find that endearing really, it's like the moon is a comfort for you and you confide in the moon with your troubles, right?" Laughing, you replied through giggles. “Now you sound like a therapist trying to chip at my walls to make me talk and open up about said troubles!" His face turned serious, and he looked into your eyes "Mmm I'm not here to break down your walls, I'm here to turn them into something beautiful that you are proud of, your walls make you, you."
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   This made you blush hard. Who was this man? "Now I don't think Therapists are supposed to flirt with their patients." "Well thank goodness, I am not your therapist, so therefore flirting with you is allowed as long as you like it." You didn't know how to describe it but talking with him hit you with a wave of love so comfortable and deep that you felt like you've already loved this person for thousands of years. "I do like it, well not 'man in the moon', what do I call thee!?" He bowed, going along with your sudden change to Shakespearean language. "Thee fair maiden shall calleth me Seonghwa, what is thy nameth?" Full on holding your stomach from laughing so much, your wipe a tear away. "My good Seonghwa, thee can calleth me y/n!" Seonghwa is also laughing "Well y/n, parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow, I shall seeth thee again." "Adieu! When we do meet again, why, we shall smile!" He walked into the moonlight more, you turned around to get up but when you turned back to watch him go, he was already gone. Tired from the day you closed and locked your window and slipped into bed. Saying one last goodnight before you fell asleep. "I told the moon some more about you, and I met someone too! I love and miss you endlessly, goodnight, Mom."
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✩✧✫next➵
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✩ a/n: I swear Hwa and mc talking in shakespearean🥺 still makes me smile, like look at them being little goofballs🤭💛 Mmm I wonder what Hongjoong will say🤔 ig we will find out in the next chapter!!!!😘 Also some of mc and Hwa's lines were inspired by two Shakespeare plays, can you name them🤔
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@matcha-green-bear / / do not repost or modify
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