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#I want to make pretty things of course! But sometimes I just want to Make
jesuistrestriste · 3 days
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ART 👏🏾 DONALDSON 👏🏾IS 👏🏾 A👏🏾 THIGHS 👏🏾 MAN👏🏾
Thank you for coming to my Ted talk
art likes anything that has to do with your thighs. he truly lives and breathes for any opportunity to play with them, and he'd be lying if he said that it wasn’t like a moth to a flame.
when you're sitting down on the couch, he has his head in your lap resting over your thighs.
when you're laying down with him in bed, he kneads and squeezes and palms your fleshy limbs under the covers. it helps him sleep sometimes. it also makes him ever so slightly (very much) aroused, but he usually tries to ignore that at bedtime when you're already exhausted.
when he's down on his knees for you, your panties off and your legs spread, he makes sure to give your thighs extra attention. 'tender loving care', he had called it one time. eating you out makes him cum quick, usually untouched, so he opts to kiss and suckle and nip at your thighs for a while beforehand so that he can delay this (and hopefully make you cum before he gets a chance to). he leaves tons of lovebites every time, but you like the way they look when you're naked in the mirror before a shower or when you're getting dressed, so it doesn’t really matter. he, of course, loves the look of them too. he likes looking at the small, muddled patches of purple and red on your delicate skin. it makes him feel proud. among other things..
one year, on his 29th birthday, he had sheepishly asked you something that you were surprised he hadn't asked years prior.
"Can I— only if you want to— but can I please fuck your thighs..?"
and wow, did that get your core bubbling with heat.
it was his birthday, so of course you had said yes. even if it wasn't his birthday, you knew you didn't need to be asked twice. you'd give him whatever he asked for — he was always so good to you, so he deserved it all.
first, he bent you over the bed, one hand pressing down on the small of your back, and then he pulled down your underwear. he slipped two fingers over your soaking folds and slid them back and forth to feel you; little moans slipping out of lips as his cock throbbed and bobbed in front of him. you actually felt his tip brush against your ass a few times as he struggled to resist the urge to just drop to the floor and lick you all over.
he knew he wouldn't last long just from feeling you up like that, so he then took his cock in his hand and gingerly slotted it between your thighs and right below your mound. you had hung your head down against the comforter as his had tipped back in pure, unadultered pleasure. his brows knitted together as an anguished whine spilled out from his chest.
he started out slowly, sliding his leaking cock in and out of where it was trapped between your limbs, but he had gotten close much faster than he usually had when he was actually inside you. every thrust had his cockhead bumping and rubbing your clit. he picked up the pace pretty quickly, rapidly pumping himself back and forth as you crossed your legs and squeezed your plush thighs together to give him more needed pressure. you knew what he liked, you knew what would make him feel best, and you knew that you had wanted to make that birthday gift feel special, so you started to talk a little here and there. you mumbled obscenities, some praise, and groaned out words that you were certain would make his brain fuzzy.
"you like my thighs, babe?"
“you like fucking my pretty legs?”
“doin’ so good, art.. god, i feel you leaking..”
he keened, nodding behind you as his cock pulsed.
"Mm— yeah, yes.. oh my god, yes.. yes yes yes-!”
it didn't take long for him to grip your hips as he bucked against you, spilling a hot sticky load between your squishy flesh as he used your body to stroke his tip.
after he came down, his forehead on the nape of your neck, he whispered something to you as his legs trembled.
"Can we do that again tomorrow night?"
and of course, you had said yes.
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melancholymegumi · 1 day
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woah, baby where ya' goin'?
multichars n what hybrids (cats , dogs & bunny) they prefer! (bllk , bnha , jjk)
cw. hybrid talks , nsfw (mdni) , breeding kink , fem!reader , use of the word 'cunny' , heats n ruts mentions , kind of co-dependency (?) in puppy hybrid if u squint . lemme know if I need to add any warnings
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bunny girls fever !
these guys love and need a soft , submissive and behaving little hybrid. they are already stressed the fuck out with their work, they do not have time for a misbehaving and feisty pets like a cat. But they also just want a pretty little girl who'll have her pussy prepared for them. Face down ass up with no complaints , begging to be cared for and nurtured for every single time. Wanting bunny girls also meant that they have a staggering breeding kink. Soft breedable cunny that's ready to give them babies , they are a family person after all. Why else would they get a bunny?
Nagi Seishiro , Reo Mikage , Chigiri Hyoma , Barou Shoei , Isagi Yoichi (he just likes them because they're cute, mainly.) , Chris Prince , Itoshi Sae, Nanami Kento , Naoya Zenin , Geto Suguru , Megumi Fushiguro , Higuruma Hiromi , Yuta Okkotsu , Kong Shiu , Izuku Midoriya , Yo Shindo , Todoroki Shoto , Enji Todoroki.
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come here , kitty kitty !
these guys are freaks. they want cat girls mainly because of their mean and bratty demeanor. they want something to tame, and that 'something' is you! Perfect , mean and elegant little kitty who misbehaves just for the sake of it. and he eats it the fuck up. he looveesss your little outburst. Encourage it even, just so he has a reason to fuck you nice and deep into the mattress. Of course, they love your heat seasons too! but it's not like they can't breed you everyday, so it's just a nicer occasion<3
Shidou Ryusei , Aiku Oliver , Karasu Tabito , Reo Mikage (you didn't hear this from me.) , Kaiser Michael , Gojo Satoru , Fushiguro Toji , Ryomen Sukuna , Atsuya Kusakabe , Izuku Midoriya (you didn't hear this from me) , Touya Todoroki , Katsuki Bakugo , Tokoyami Fumikage , Shinsou Hitoshi , Aizawa Shouta (even though you're a hassle, you're his hassle)
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Puppy girls demeanor !
oh, sweet loveable loyal puppy. he loves good and obedient yet cheerful and loyal girls. aka , you! A sweet little puppy who whines for his attention, gets happy from a little bit of praise and needy as fuck. Just what he wants. It makes him feel superior. You being able to fend for yourselves sometimes is also a game changer for him. You're literally perfect for him. You , completely clueless yet happy whenever he does something. It makes him want to knock some babies into ya'. he loves loves loves your rut season <3 begging for him and whining about how it hurts but not launching yourself onto him. Being completely patient and only doing subtle things until he finally realizes and takes care of you!
Kunigami Rensuke , Noel Noa , Alexis Ness , Kirishima Eijiro , Sero Hanta , Denki Kaminari , Present Mic , All Might , Yuji Itadori , Aoi Todo , Gojo Satoru
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all writing is made and owned by @melancholymegumi on tumblr and only on tumblr. do not repost or translate without my permission.
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clarkpip22 · 1 day
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𖥻.•𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ✴︎.
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a/n- this is my first time every writing smut so sorry if this isn't good but i hope you'll enjoy<3
warning- this is 18+ so mdni, pls and thank you :)
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↪loves eating you out
- she will devour your pussy like it is a full course meal.
- definitely makes you squirt all over her face
- and she won't stop unless you tell her to or push her head back
- "You taste so good, mama~"
- Emily's eyes always look so heavy when she's eating you out, sometimes she closes her eyes while moaning into you. Enjoying every inch of your cunt
↪strap game is insane!
- treats your pussy like its a toy when she's fucking you
- she may talk to you nice but their is nothing nice about the way she pounds you into the bed
- sometimes she gets carried away because she is so focused on making you feel good
↪speaking of talking to you nice. THE PRAIS! THE DIRTY TALK!
- her mouth is dirty <3
- anytime you are doing good for her, she showers you in complements.
- calls you her good girl <3
- some of her favorite phrases♥︎
- "yes baby, you're doing so well for me"
- "Please make that pretty cunt squirt for me baby"
- "ride me mama~"
- "I love your pussy so much"
- even outside of the bedroom she's praising you
- there's been times were she will whispers dirty things to you out in public
- "i can't wait to take you home and shove my face between your legs"
↪Emily struggles to keep her hands to herself
- she inlove with you and her favorite way to show you is through touch but it always leads to me than just innocent touches
- Emily's hands 🤝 your thighs
- she also loves grabbing your neck
- Em will hold you by the neck when she wants you to look at her
↪loves ass
- she spanks you a lot for fun
- Anytime she walks past you or you bend down, all you feel is a big, strong, muscular hand land on your ass
- "Ow Emily! That hurts!"
- " hush baby, i didn't hit you that hard"
↪Emily is into punishments
- if you are giving her attitude or acting like a brat, she will embarrass you
- her favorite way to punish you is by making you act like a cat or dog
- she'll strip you down and put a dog or cat buttplug in you and makes you crawl on all four
- Emily has you crawl up on her lap and sit while she plays with your cunt
- fingers the life out of you
- "don't try to run away from me baby, you wanted to act like a brat so imma treat you like a brat."
- spanks you hard if you complain
- if you take your punishment well, Emily will eat you out all night long
- if you don't than she'll pound your cunt for hour, making you cum over and over again until you apologize like a good girl<3
↪and finally... the aftercare
- she makes sure your nice and cleaned up
- kisses you on the cheek telling you how good you are and how proud she is of you
- Emily is usually very soft after sex, stroking your body and cuddling on
- feeds you snacks and make sure your well hydrated.
- "you did so good for me baby, i love you~"
- "i love you too, em"
You guys are sooooo cute 😩<3
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loquarocoeur · 3 days
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Lestappen Fic Masterpost
Yours dynamic:
All independent fics with the top Charles, bottom Max dynamic . They can, but don't have to be read as the same universe
Yours (54k words)
Read the tags for kinks
Charles looks much too satisfied as Max leans back against the door, one eyebrow tugging up as he asks, “Do you want to fight?”
“Of course I want to fight.”
Charles only looks slightly amused. “Then fight.”
"Stop fucking telling me what to do!" Max yells.
Charles cocks his head. "What, because it turns you on?"
Alternatively:
Max doesn't want to like Charles, but Charles makes that really fucking difficult sometimes
Love Languages:
Foreign language kink
En Français (5k words)
Max does not speak French.
Did he take five years of French in school? Sure. Did he learn anything? Fuck no.
But he wants to know what Charles is saying when he's gossiping with Pierre or sharing anecdotes with Arthur or telling his mother about his week and he really, really wants to know what Charles is saying when he traps Max under his weight and presses kiss after kiss to every part of his face while he rattles on in French so fast Max barely catches ‘chéri’.
Charles cannot under any circumstances know about it though.
Alternatively:
Max secretly starts learning French and Charles catches him doing a Duolingo lesson and has a bit of a crisis about how Max sounds speaking French
In het Nederlands: (9k words)
"Maaax," Charles moans, flopping on the bed next to Max. "I think I just need to hear what it sounds like again, like the rhythms and sounds, you know? Say a sentence for me quickly?"
"Je bent volkomen belachelijk, er is geen reden om Nederlands te leren en je martelt ons allebei," Max tells him immediately before he sits up to look at his messages. (You're completely ridiculous, there is no reason for you to learn Dutch and you're just torturing us both.)
Charles sits up too, nodding thoughtfully. "What did you say?"
"Don't worry about it."
Alternatively:
Charles makes it his life's mission to learn Dutch, butchering Max's native language and breaking his eardrums in the process, but then Charles calls him schatje and Max can't handle it even a little bit
Il Calore: (7k words)
Temperature/Ice Play
"Charles," Max complains, even as his hand slips into Charles' hair to keep him there where he's mouthing against his sea salted skin, and he's already given in. "I'm hot."
Charles chuckles as he mouths a kiss right below Max's navel, licking up salt and sweat, and says, "Yes. Yes, you are."
Max sighs, half in annoyance, but he's already melting into the sheets under Charles' tongue.
Alternatively:
Max is melting in the Italian summer heat and Charles' way of cooling him down is to get him hot and bothered.
Down Deep (11k words)
The summary says it all
It's just a thing Charles says sometimes.
"Fuck, I should keep you filled with my come all day."
What he doesn't expect is the way that, this time, Max whines and babbles, "Yes. Yes, please, keep it in me all day, want it, Charles, please."
Alternatively:
Charles gives Max exactly what he wants
Settle Down (11k words)
Cock warming
"Hmm." Charles puts a finger under Max's chin to tilt his head up to look at him. "Look, I'm not trying to minimise it, you're right to be upset and I do want to listen to you, so don't kick me when I say this, I'm just trying to help you."
"Say what?" Max snaps.
Charles looks at him a second. "Will you calm down if I give you my cock under the desk?"
Alternatively:
Sometimes Max just needs a little help to calm down.
Pretty (6k words)
Praise kink
Max huffs. “I’ve looked at myself plenty of times and I don’t see it.”
“What, that you’re pretty?” Charles asks in absent confusion, sounding like he’s a little too distracted by his determination to press kisses down the stubble on Max’s jaw to even really know what they’re talking about.
“Uh, yeah,” Max just says. “I’m just not all that pretty, Charles.”
Charles freezes and then he sits up and looks at Max with a look of utter horror. "What do you mean you're not that pretty?"
Alternatively:
Charles makes sure Max knows that he is, in fact, very pretty
Other smut:
ie. the one top Max fic I wrote only to never write another
Kiss It Better (11k words)
Charles was known to be a bit dramatic, Max had always known this about him.
Max almost gets a heart attack when Charles texts him:
Chéri
Come get me it hurts
Alternatively:
Five times Charles is dramatic about the most minor of injuries imaginable (and how Max handles that) and one time he's actually hurt and doesn't fucking say anything
Fluff:
Established Relationship:
Puppy Eyes (6k words)
Max wants to say no so badly.
But Charles has the dog pressed to his cheek and they have those matching pleading faces right next to each other and, really, Max is just proud of himself for not dissolving into a puddle on the floor.
How is he meant to say no to them when they look at him like that?
Alternatively:
Leo and Charles are carbon copies of each other who team up to weasel anything their hearts desire out of Max. But turns out puppy eyes work on Charles too.
Black Cat Behaviour (5k words)
"Hmm?" Max hums sleepily, right as the cat makes a half-aware mrrp.
Identical.
Oh god that's cute.
Alternatively:
Max has no idea just how much he behaves like his cats
High Maintenance (5k words)
"You're really fucking high maintenance, you know that?" Max tells Charles quite sincerely as he clings to Max from behind, limbs wrapped tight around Max who is trying very hard to squirm out of his arms and get out of bed to be productive.
"No, I'm not, what are you talking about? All I need to be happy is cuddles and you are denying me."
Max sighs and gives up again, going slack in Charles' immovable grip, much to Charles' apparent satisfaction.
Alternatively:
Charles is really high maintenance. Max is less annoyed about it than he pretends to be
One shots:
The Cat Conspiracy (5k words)
"Max, you didn't tell me they were so cute in person," he laments. "Can I?" He gestures toward the little fuckers.
Max is speechless for a second before he says, helplessly, "Of course."
And Sassy just lets him pet her.
She starts purring.
Alternatively:
Charles comes over one time and the cats decide they like him better than Max and then he keeps coming over and being all cute with them and calling them baby and Max can't decide whether he's more jealous of Charles or of the cats.
Author's note:
Will try and keep this updated if I write smth new, might change it at some point
Anyway, feel free to ask me any questions abt anything or just yap at me <3 (please yap at me)
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mrm0rgansw0man · 2 days
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Hii can I please have a scene with Arthur Morgan and his fem s/o in an alternate universe where Arthur never got TB and he is happily married living with his wife on a cosy farm similar to the marstons. They have just had a newborn daughter and she is only a few days old and Arthur sees his wife picking up their newborn, still in shock from giving birth just days prior. She is cuddling and sweet talking her baby, gently kissing her head and loving her. She coos and gently but sweetly whispers good morning to her baby girl. I just want Arthur’s reaction to this and how he reacts to all the fluff plus him being a new father. Can you please end it with fem reader putting their child back in the crib and making their way to the living room, relaxing on the sofa together and talking about how they should visit the marstons soon. Thank you 💞💞💞💞💞💞
The Life a Good Man Deserves
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Has it really been only a week since I watched her walk along the tree line of the forest near our home, soaking in the sun, glowing like a god damn angel? She was pregnant as could be, but she wanted to take one last walk before we took our first walk with our baby girl.
And a few days later, she was here. God was it hard, watchin' my wife hurt like that. Her screams and all the blood... it left me shakin' like a leaf. I've never felt so scared in my life I don't think. We didn't have a doctor or a nurse or anythin', but we had Charles and a forest only a few yards away. Thank whatever lord there was above that he had stopped by that morning, and right as he was about to leave I heard my wife screamin' for me from our bedroom. We both came running, and that was the start of the longest night of my life.
Charles made a million different remedies on the stove of our kitchen. For pain, for infection, any complications my wife or our little girl could have after birth. All the while I was holding my wife's hand as she brought our baby-girl into the world, how crazy life is sometimes.
We named her 'Briar-Rose.' Right after she was born, my wife looked out the window and saw the ones we had planted had finally bloomed. We'd have horrible luck with them before, so it seemed perfect.
I ought to go find them now, instead of just sittin' her day dreaming about the family that I finally have. God, I love them so much.
• • • • • • •
Arthur set his leather journal down on his bedside table, the matching ones he made for the two of you for your first anniversary you spent together in your home. The one he had built for you, with the help of Charles and John. Oh and little Jack of course, he did so much!
Arthur got up and slipped on a pair of worn old jeans and his favorite blue button up shirt. How it had survived all these years, he didn't know.
How he had survived all these years, he didn't know either.
Arthur quietly made his way to the nursery. It was right next to the bedroom the two of you shared, and the door was cracked open. There was no other place you could be. Arthur was about to walk in, but he stopped when he heard you talking to your daughter. He watched through the crack of the door, completely mesmerized.
Your hair was in a messy braid down your back, and you wore a long flowing white nightgown. It was long sleeved, and the strings around your bosom area were tied into a pretty bow. The sleeves, which had forever been too long for your arms but you refused to mend time, rested around your whole hand, only leaving your fingers sticking out. Arthur could see them sticking out under your coat and laughed to himself. He loved these little things about you, and he had them all written down in his journal.
Your coat, which was actually the brown plaid one that belonged to Abigail, also hung loosely around you with your nightgown. He smiled as he remembered both you and Abigail trading your favorite coats. John and Arthur had both been talking and they decided it was time to leave the gang, it wasn't an easy decision but a necessary one. You and Abigail were two peas in a pod, like sisters almost. You had both decided you needed to do something to always stay together now that you wouldn't be able to see each other everyday.
A small cry from your daughter pulled him from his thoughts.
"Oh my sweet girl, shh shh." You cooed softly, you picked up your daughter from her crib and cradled her in your arms. Holding her close and tight. You pressed a gentle kiss on your daughters head, and she calmed. You rocked her back and fourth and started talking to her.
"How'd my baby sleep? Did you sleep well?" You asked, your tone so gentle and full of love Arthur thought he could cry. You were the perfect mother. "I love you, so much my sweet girl. Your so beautiful. You've got your daddy in you, those stunning blue eyes and that hair of yours. I can't wait to watch you grow up."
Arthur couldn't take it, tears fell freely from his eyes and he opened the door of his daughters room and actually ran to you. He held you close to him, careful to not hurt your stomach.
"Oh Arthur, are you alright?" You said with a light laugh, though your voice was laced with concern.
"Honey, I have never been more alright in my life." He said shakily. His quiet voice held so much emotion it broke your heart.
When Arthur first found out you were pregnant, he was angry. Not at you, and certainly not at your unborn child. He was angry at himself, how could he be so stupid? Getting another woman pregnant, while still being in the gang? Which was definitely going to shit, by the way. Arthur could feel it happening. His heart actually hurt when he thought about Eliza and Issac, how his stupidity had gotten them killed. His little boy, and the woman he never married but god damn he should've, both dead over 10 dollars. 10. Fucking. Dollars. If he had been there, those bastards would've been dead in a second! He was a gunslinger for fucks sake! He could've saved them if he had just done right. But he was so scared to be a father, especially to a son. He didn't want to turn into his own father. He wouldn't wish that on anyone. But once a certain Karen Jones dragged him by the ear to the hiding spot you had found to cry in telling him to "fix it" he knew what he had to do. And it wasn't easy.
He held you in his arms, and apologized for every second he made you think or feel like he didn't want you or the child growing inside you. He said he had a plan, and it was the first time since joining the gang that you were relieved to hear those words.
"Arthur?"
Your voice pulled him from his thoughts. Arthur pulled away from you so he could get a better look
"Would you like to hold your daughter Mr. Morgan?" You asked with a smile just as sweet as your southern drawl.
"Yes I would, Mrs. Morgan." He said with a smile, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes. He ever so carefully took his daughter into his arms. She fussed for a moment, before quickly settling back down again.
"I can't believe I'm a daddy..." Arthur said softly. "Look at my sweet girl... Both of my sweet girls."
You stood on your tip toes and kissed Arthur on the cheek, and you bent back down to kiss your daughter. You winced straightening back up.
"Sit down, please honey." Arthur said gently. "You just had a baby after all."
"'M fine sweetheart." You dismissed. "I need to get the best view possible of this.."
A sudden sharp cry erupted from your daughter, causing both you and Arthur to laugh.
"Still a view I want to see." You said with a smile. Arthur passed Briar off to you, and she quieted down a bit.
"Ain't nothin' like the touch of a mother." Arthur said softly, gently wrapping his arms around your stomach. With your body flush against his, he rested his chin on top of your head. You chuckled.
"You should sing her a lullaby. Arthur suggested. You chuckled, knowing he'd use any excuse to hear you sing. You took a breathe, and began a gentle lullaby:
Down in the valley, valley so low Hang your head over, hear the wind blow Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow Hang your head over, hear the wind blow.
Roses love sunshine, violets love dew Angels in heaven know I love you Know I love you, dear, know I love you Angels in heaven, know I love you.
Writing this letter, containing three lines Answer my question, "Will you be mine?" "Will you be mine, dear, will you be mine?" Answer my question, "Will you be mine?"
Down in the valley, valley so low Hang your head over, hear the wind blow Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow Hang your head over, hear the wind blow.
You finished the song, and were now left with a sleeping daughter and a husband who was weeping. The sight of it brought tears to your own eyes.
"I just watched my wife sing my daughter to sleep for the first time.." Arthur wept. "Look at me, I'm a god damn mess. God I love you so much, I love her so much- (Name), this is real. This is our life."
"I can't belive it either!" You said with a sniffle. "Let me put her in her cradle before we wake her up."
Arthur nodded, sneaking a quick kiss to your forehead before heading to the door. Arthur was about to leave, but something told him to stay a moment longer. He turned just in time to see you tenderly set your daughter down in her crib and cover her up with her blanket which you had sewn by hand for her. You kissed your daughter one last time before joining Arthur.
As soon as you were in arms reach, Arthur scooped you up and carried you bridal style right into the living room. You giggled like some lovesick schoolgirl, causing Arthur to giggle too.
"Nothin but laughter and tears of joy in this house." You said happily. "That's exactly how I wanna be livin'!"
"Me too darlin!" Arthur said, gently setting you down on the sofa. He sat down right next to you and opened his arms, which you gladly crawled into. With your head resting in the crook of his neck and your legs curled up in his lap, you felt so safe. And so loved, you swore Arthur Morgan was sent from the lord above just for you.
"When do you think you'll be up for a trip to go see Abigail?" Arthur said, a sly smile on his face.
You gasped in excitment. "Oh goodness, is the house done already!? Did John invite you?"
"Yes ma'am! And guess what else darlin'?" Arthur said with a laugh. Your excitement was contagious, anyone could agree to that. "They made us a nursery for Briar-Rose."
Your eyes welled up with tears and you covered your mouth with your hand.
"Your kiddin' me..." You said softly, a smile slowly forming on your face.
"They really did honey." Arthur said and smiled softly at you. "Abigail wrote to me. I got the letter the night I went to town right before you had Briar. Said the house is done and we need to come visit as soon as you feel up to it after you have the baby."
"I don't know how soon, but I can't wait to go! Oh Arthur I miss her so much.." You said sadly. "I'm gonna write her back! We'll plan a visit next month...." You said, but your words trailed off into a yawn.
"Sounds good t'me baby." Arthur said, his hand natrually finding your hair to begin running his fingers through it. It put you to sleep faster then you'd like to admit.
Arthur let out a content sigh. He had never dared even daydream of a life like this for too long, yet here he was. Actually living the life of his dreams. With his wife, daughter, and even his 'brother'.
He wouldn't have it any other way.
authors note: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED CAUSE I LITERALLY HAD THE BEST TIME WRITING THISSS Xx
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jordyn14 · 2 days
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It Has Always Been You • Joe Burrow Mini Series
Chapter 1: “Hey, hey, hey. What’s with the staring?”
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I'm Maisie, Maisie Moreau. The last name is in fact French. Before my mom and I moved to Athens, Ohio, we lived in Monaco. My dad was well known in Monaco because he was an f1 driver. My dad was amazing. Any chance he got, he was bringing me to the race tracks so I could either watch him, or climb in either him so he could show me what he see's every time he got in that car. Those cars that I grew up around, that I thought could do no wrong and were so cool, killed my dad. While he was coming around a corner, he lost control of the car and skidded off the track. Next thing I know, I was watching the car slowly becoming engulfed in flames. At the time I didn't really know what was going on, but my dad was trapped in his car and the rescue team didn't put the fire out soon enough. My dad died.
After that, my mom couldn't stand to live in that house...or in Monaco for that matter. Anywhere she looked, my dad was there, literally. Not only were there so many memories of him around the house or in their favorite restaurants or coffee shops, but there were pictures of him that people put out in remembrance of him. Don't get me wrong, it was nice to see that people were honoring him and his name after such a horrible accident, but we didn't want to keep seeing his face everywhere, it hurt too much. I was 7 when we left Monaco to come to Ohio. Don't ask me why we came to Athens, Ohio, though. Out of every single state that couldn't been home, she chose Ohio. The quiet, empty, high poverty and crime state. I would soon find out that that was the best decision my mom has ever made for us.
Coming into a new school as a second grader where everybody already knew everyone from first grade was scary-no, terrifying. My friends were all back at home and I expected to never find friends. Plus, even though I was raised around English and French, I kept forgetting how to say things, which just made kids laugh. I would come home crying most days asking my mom if we could go back home. I knew she felt terrible because it was a big change, Monaco...the richest country in the world, to Athen's, Ohio. That was until I met Arthur Burrow. Arthur saw me crying under the slide one day and asked me if I wanted to play with him and his friends, he said it was because I had a cool accent. The rest is pretty much history. We became instant best friends, and when I say best friends, I mean inseparable. Everywhere he went, I went, and everywhere I went, he went. Arthur even helped me with my English, even though I still struggle with it sometimes.
Not only did we become best friends, but my mom became best friends with his parents. I mean they kind of had to, Arthur and I wanted to hang out any chance we got. We spend all of elementary school together and when we finally were about to go into middle school, my mom thought it would be a good idea to take us all down to Monaco for a little vacation, even Arthur's parents and brother. My mom kept the house which led to a private beach because she couldn't part with it and frequently visited, so when we got back home, it was like nothing changed. It felt so good to be around people who talked like me. It was like a breath of fresh air. We spent that entire week pretty much in the water, where Arthur learned that he absolutely loved boats. I of course, only 11, asked my mom if we could take the yacht back home. She obviously told me that that was impossible.
I guess it's time that I should also mention Arthur's older brother of three years, Joe Burrow. When people think of Joe Burrow, their minds probably go to the quarterback from the Cincinnati Bengals, but not me. My mind instantly goes to my best friend's dreamy and charming older brother who always had our backs. When someone would make fun of my accent and the way I would forget some words in English, Joe was always there to put them in their place, girls or not. Joe wouldn't let anyone talk bad about his brother or me. You see? Dreamy. That was a crush that started off very very small, but soon got very very big. The first day I realized that I had a crush on him was when Arthur and I who were in 6th grade, went to watch Joe play in his first ever varsity basketball game. The way he ran up and down that court and shot the ball was like sugar rush to me...at least they felt similar.
While Joe was off at LSU being an amazing quarterback and proving everyone wrong, Arthur and I were figuring out ourselves and what we were passionate about. When I was 16, my mom got a call from a modeling agency, and just like Arthur and I, the rest was history. When I reached the age of 18, my name was getting a little bigger and I was modeling for more places than just local businesses. My first big modeling job was for Nike, yes, it may seem small compared to some, but Justice and Gap were even smaller. From there, I started to travel around a little bit for these modeling photo shoots and when I was 19, I modeled for Prada, which was like a dream come true for me.
When I was 18, though, Arthur and I both went to Ohio State. I went for fashion design and out of high school started up my own clothing business, which has skyrocketed these past few years because I really got my name out there with modeling. Arthur went first engineering and now has a big boy job making a lot of money, but obviously not as much as his brother who always teases him about that.
Also at 18, my mom decided to move back to Monaco. It was the second hardest decision's she ever had to make, second to moving to America after my dad passed away. My mom needed to move back, though. Not only to keep my dad's memory alive, but because she missed it so incredibly much. She missed her friends, going to f1 races, going on boat rides whenever she wanted, living near the ocean, and more. We all could tell that she wanted to go back, she just didn't want to leave me, but I wanted to stay. I couldn't leave my best friend. It was hard without her for a while, but we FaceTimed any chance we got, and I also visited whenever modeling, school, or work wasn't in the way. Lucky, I picked up a few modeling shoots with hermés and Dior in Monaco so I could go there for the shoot and stay for a weekend with my mom.
Another amazing thing that about being best friends with Arthur was not only watching his brother go from cute to hot and see him find himself, but also make it to the NFL. It was hard to watch him at OSU and being the backup to the backup. There were so many times where the three of us would go out to lunch and all Joe could think and talk about was football, and it wasn't positive things, really. It was about how he was always the backup and how he never got the chance to prove himself. It was hard on him and we hated seeing him struggle, especially when he hurt his hand and became the backup to the backup. It literally had been amazing watching Joe live out his dream in the NFL because of that. His football career started off extremely rough and not promising, but now he's doing amazing and is proving everyone wrong.
Not only did I get to watch my friend become amazing at football, but I got to watch him while having the biggest crush on him. It was hard not to. He wasn't just extremely attractive and amazing at football, but he was an amazing person. Time and time again he showed just how amazing he was. Whether it was standing up for me and Arthur, helping me with my English when Arthur couldn't, or literally just being himself, he was amazing. He was nerdy, funny, handsome, kind, intelligent. It was literally impossible not to have a crush on him. But at the end of the day, he was my best friend's brother, which meant I always had to push those feelings aside. It wasn't like I ever thought Joe would start to have feelings for me, because that was extremely impractical, but I didn't want anything to come between Arthur and I, and me having a crush on his brother could do that.
Just like we did in Joe's first year of playing in the NFL, we packed our bags and headed to Monaco for a week vacation where Joe could calm down and destress before the first game. Arthur and I always loved visiting Monaco because the legal drinking age was 18, meaning the day we turned 18, we took a trip over here so we could drink legally. Now, at 22, we didn't have to worry about that stuff. Currently, we were all on our yacht, soaking in the last bit of ocean before we had to leave and go back to Ohio. The new season starting back up meant the stress would eventually creep into Joe and he would be insufferable after the losses, meaning that Arthur and I were really soaking up the last bit of fun and stress free Joe. My mom and the Burrow's were all at the front of the boat relaxing and catching up while the three of us were at the back of the boat.
I let out a deep exhale, the sun shining on me feeling amazing. My eyes were shut and I couldn't help but smile. This life was amazing. From in front of me, I could hear Arthur doing flips off of the boat and into the ocean under us. It was moments like these ones that I wish I could live in Monaco. Not only did I love the ocean and the sun, I also loved being around people who spoke the same language as me. Arthur and Joe tried to learn, but they only know how to out a few sentences together. On this yacht, I could tell Joe could forget about the things he was worried about back at home and put his focus into having fun. "Maisie, come in! The waters great!" Arthur yelled up at me from in the water. With a small laugh, I opened my eyes and sat up on my elbows so I could look down and into the water a little bit. Unable to see Arthur, he swam back a little bit and came into view.
As soon as we made eye contact, I waved down at him and we both started laughing. As you can see, I am suntanning. I have a modeling shoot tomorrow before we leave and I want my skin nice and golden." I said with a little "hmph.' After hearing this, Arthur started swimming over to the ladder on the side of the yacht and started to climb out of the water, water trickling off of his body. Don't you dare. When he made his way over to me, he bent down a little so he was closer to me and started to shake his head and body, water getting all over me. "Stop it, you're like a wet dog!" I screamed in French while laughing and got up from the chair. "One, why are you always tanning, and two, slow down your French because I can't understand you." Arthur said and elbowed me in the side a little bit.
Usually when I talk fast or out of nowhere, I will accidentally speak French, which happens more than I'd like to admit, but Arthur just finds it funny. "One, it's a lifestyle, and two, I called you a wet dog." I said and laughed as I watched Arthur's face drop when he heard me call him a wet dog. Scanning Arthur's face, a small smile started to appear before he nodded to himself. "Don't you dare." I said and backed away from him, putting my hands out in front of me to shield myself. All of a sudden, he lunched forwards and grabbed me in his arms, lifting me up off of the ground. I started to flail and hit his back while we both laughed like crazy. "You let me go right now!" I laughed and flailed some more, but soon just accepted it as he got closer to the edge of the boat.
I let out one last scream as Arthur jumped into the water with me in his arms. As soon as my feet hit the water, I plugged my nose to stop any water from getting in it before I was submerged. Arthur let go of me once we were both in the water. After a few seconds of staying under the water, I started to swim to the top and as soon as I surfaced, I looked over at Arthur who was already fixing his messed up hair. "Now I have to wash my hair." I laughed and dipped my head underwater to get the hair out of my face some more. "Good, it looked bad anyways." He joked with me as he started to swim towards the ladder. All of a sudden, I heard the door on the yacht open up and stopped moving so I was floating in the water. I looked up to see Joe walking out. Damn.
Joe was in nothing but his swimming trunks, and obviously a pair of socks since he always wore socks-except in the water, that is. I couldn't tear my eyes off of him and the way every single muscle was showing right now. My eyes scanned over his thick thighs, his muscular arms, his toned abs with the perfect amount of love handles on the sides. I gulped a little at the sight of his perfectly tanned body as he strutted out to us, his chest a bit red from not putting on enough sunscreen, though his mom kept nagging him about it. I would be lying if I said this wasn't one of my favorite parts about being out on the yacht. I was pulled from my thoughts when Arthur started to climb out of the water. Following his lead, I started to climb out after him and crossed my arms over my chest when I couldn't find my towel.
"Your mom is going to start taking us back since you have a modeling shoot in a few hours. Unless you guys want to get in your workout and swim back." Joe said. Both Charles and Joe started laughing at that last bit, knowing I wasn't the best at swimming long distances. Arthur, still chuckling, looked me up and down a little bit and said, "Maisie would drown. She doesn't have the stamina for that." I rolled my eyes while ringing out my hair a little bit. A bunch of water fell onto my feet and onto the boat. I looked up at Joe and saw that he was carrying two towels. "Sorry, I'm not a football player and I'm not a gym rat like you." I said while shaking my head. Joe chuckled a little bit and said, "maybe you should go to the gym with Arthur...beef up those twig like arms while you're at it." I scoffed a little and looked down at my arms. They definitely weren't twigs, they just weren't as big as theirs.
"Thanks but no thanks. My arms are just fine. Plus, I do work out for your information." I said with a little smile and a shrug. Joe just chuckled and held out his hand which held my beach towel. Arthur already grabbed his and was currently running it over his hair to dry it off. "Here you go, Zie." Joe said. My face instantly flushed a shade of red as I heard him call me Zie. Yes, Joe's nickname for me was Zie. When I was younger, I absolutely hated it. Everyone either called me Maisie, May, or Maise, not Zie. I asked Joe just to pick one of those three, but he insisted on Zie because he wanted to be the only person that called me that. That nickname has been such a constant thing that now I even like hearing it because when I hear it, I know Joe said it since he's the only person that uses it. "Thank you, Joey." I reached out to grab the towel from his hand, but noticed Joes eyes go from my eyes to my breasts.
After I grabbed it from him, Arthur started to talk to me about something that I wasn't even paying attention to. All I could focus on was the fact that Joe was looking directly down at my breasts and not talking, just staring. After a few seconds of him looking down at them, he realized what he was doing and quickly looked away and cleared his throat. I wrapped the towel around myself and quickly grabbed my clothes from the chair I was sun tanning on a little bit ago. "Just make sure you don't fall in on the way back." Joe said and turned on his heal. I couldn't take my eyes off of his back muscles and the way his hair blew in the wind as he walked away from us and towards the front of the boat. I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers over those muscles and through his hair.
"Hey, hey, hey. What's with the staring?" Arthur elbowed me a little bit, noticing how I was staring at him. I tore my eyes off of Joe and looked over at Arthur who was putting his shirt on. Deep down, he knew I found Joe cute, and I mean...who wouldn't. It's impossible not to be face to face with a tall, handsome man like Joe and not find him cute. But Joe wasn't just cute...he was totally hot. What makes him even more attractive is his personality and the way he respects everyone. He's gently, caring, compassionate, romantic-and I'm rambling. See what he does to me? That stuff shouldn't matter to me because he's off limits. I couldn't do that do Arthur. Still, it's hard to get Joe out of my head.
"Oh as if." I said and punched his arm. Arthur nodded a little bit and smiled. "Yeah, well, don't get any ideas." He said and wrapped an arm around my neck, pulling me towards him and into a head lock as we headed for the door that led inside where we could get dressed. After a little bit, we finally docked the boat and we walked home, which wasn't too far away. When we got to the house, Arthur and I ran inside to see who could get the best shower in the house firsts, which was the guest bedroom that he stayed in. Why did he get the best shower? I have no idea. All I know is that it's the best in the house and I needed a good shower since I have a modeling shoot soon. We both pushed past Joe who was walking in front of us, making him stumble to the side a little bit. "You guys act like children!" He called out after us as we raced each other, though I could hear him laugh after. "It prevents wrinkles, you should try it!" I looked back at him for a split second while running. Luckily I turned around when I did because if I didn't, I would've totally ran into an end table.
Before I knew it, I was jumping over the couch to get in front of Arthur and then he followed after me up the stairs. Finally, I made it to the bathroom before him and turned around to face him, looking victorious. "Haha, I win, loser. Now shoo. I need to shower quick so I can get to my photo shoot." I said, shooing him away so I could shower. Arthur glared at me for a few seconds before accepting that he lost and walking out of the room and probably another shower. I grabbed everything I needed for my shower including my clothes and then locked the bathroom door behind me and started to strip away my clothes.
Instead of my normal everything shower that took an hour, I showered in 15 minutes since I was in a little bit of a rush. Turning the water off, I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around me as I shivered a little. Reaching over to grab my clothes which were in my usual spot, my heart dropped a little bit. "Damn it." I said to myself with a sigh, realizing that I forgot them on Arthur's bed. Now I was going to have to open the door and let all of the cool air in. Great. With another sigh, I swung open the door. "Arthur, I think Maisie left you without saying goodbye." Joe chuckles with his back facing me, expecting me to be Arthur. "Oh my gosh!" I said quickly, not expecting Joe to be in Arthur's room while I was showering. Joe looked behind him after hearing someone scream and looked just as shocked as me when he saw that I was in fact not Arthur and I was wrapped in a towel.
Just as soon as he faced me, he was turning around quickly and said, "I am so sorry, I thought you were Arthur." I gripped onto the towel around me so it didn't fall and backed up into the bathroom. I started to shut the door but made sure there was a big enough crack so I could reach my hand out. Just as Joe was about to walk out of the room and give me privacy, I said, "wait," quickly. Joe stopped in his tracks and turned his head to the side so his ear was facing me, but his eyes weren't. Part of me wanted him to look at me and never take his eyes off of me. "Can you hand me my clothes real quick? They're on the bed." I said nervously, feeling stupid for forgetting my clothes and making Joe look at me with nothing but a towel on.
Joe glanced towards the bed and when he saw my clothes, nodded and walked over to them. "Of course." He said and grabbed them, making sure not to unfold them. When he started walking my way, I quickly leaned back from the door so he didn't catch me staring at him and so he didn't see me. I heard his footsteps getting closer to the door and then he said, "alright, reach your hand out." I reached my hand out of the small crack in the door and felt him place the clothes in my hand. "Thank you so much, Joey." I said. "It's no problem, Zie." With that, I heard his footsteps again but this time they disappeared out of the room. I shut the door quickly and leaned my back on it after hearing Arthur's bedroom door shut. "Shit." I said to myself, slapping my forehead.
Once I got dressed, I walked downstairs to see everyone sitting down at the huge table eating a post yacht snack. I always call it a post yacht snack since every time we get off of the boat, we all snack so much. "Alright, shower is free Arthur. I'm going to head out soon. I'll see you all tomorrow." I said with a smile and towards the table. Once I got to the table, I hugged Jimmy and Robin from behind and told them bye and then made my way over to my mom. "Drive safe, sweetheart. I love you." My mom said once I wrapped my arms around her from behind. "I love you more momma." I said and kissed her cheek when she tilted her head near me and patted my arm. Once I pulled away from her, I walked over to Arthur who stood up from his chair.
I wrapped my arms around Arthur and hugged him tightly before we pulled away. When I walked away, Arthur flicked me in the shoulder. "You're a bitch. No wonder why you're still single." I said in French as I continued to walk. My mom started cracking up laughing while everyone else looked at me and then my mom, wondering what I said. "What did you say? What did she say?" Arthur asked me and then my mom from the table, Joe laughed and then said, "she probably called you a jackass, jackass, which is why nobody likes you." I looked over while laughing a nodded a little bit. "Honestly that was pretty close." I told Joe while laughing. I grabbed my Keys from the key bowl on the counter and headed for the door. Before I reached the door, though, I turned around and said, "I'll see you tomorrow. Bye guys!" I said and opened up the door, hearing everyone say bye as I walked out.
A/n: I know this one is short and pretty boring, but the next one is going to be way better, I promise! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! 🫶🏼🫶🏼
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artinvain · 1 day
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𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔩𝔣 𝔬𝔣 𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔱 (pt. 1)
sevika x reader modern au (fluff & weed smoking… mdni)
characters: sevika x reader, silco & vander .
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭
when sevika joins one of the biggest financial firms in her district, it’s not a big deal to her. it’s not her passion, but she makes money, work is stupidly easy for her, she lives way over comfortably and if she wants she can choose her own hours. of course — she keeps to a basically military routine, she likes it, it helps her stop thinking. about her dad, where her mom could be, the last person she loved.
she’s waiting to meet up with the same old college buddies she always does. they meet at a dispensary cafe maybe once or twice a week. but sevika goes almost everyday — because it also helps her not think.
when she walks in vander and silco are making a noise in their usual nook, greeting her with hugs and a cig to start. when they were all together like this they became idiots. usually intellectual conversations about philosophy or politics, the latest in news, the latest in their lives and careers. but here it was babble filled laughter and no thoughts at all.
“do you guys want coffee or some of the stuff on the munchies menu?”
your voice is new, vander and silco quieten down in her ears as she looks up at you, the sun shining like a halo bouncing around your locs. she wants to say something, tell you you’re pretty. It’s what she usually does when she sees a girl she likes. flirts like crazy but now sevika can’t say a goddamm thing.
it’s the way you’re looking at her and only her. your lip bitten and a small smile poking through as you notice she’s staring. and you can’t help but look on with some strange affection, her soft dark skin, muscles underneath it flexing. her grey eyes — so unusual, smoky and cool. your manager had told you she was a regular so if you wanted a tip you needed to be nice. to sevika you are lovely — she can’t really describe it but you make her blush.
when you walk away with their orders, the boys are immediately hounding her. “would you have preferred vander and i left the both when you did all that?”
“I - did you - are you fucking blushing?” silco laughs so hard he’s coughing and slapping vander’s arm when she rolls her eyes. “my hearts, my stars, my god — you are! I haven’t seen you look like this in years,” he gasps.
“weed makes you overly dramatic, silco,” she retorts gulps gratefully at a bottle of water while vander continues
“seriously though, you’re looking at her like you have something other than ice in your veins” vander howls at himself
silco lights up his cigarette and leans back, “come now vander, sevika’s just afraid of her feelings, if anything — her blood burns too hot-“
“shut up.” sevika mumbles. it’s not untrue, she’d bounced around from girlfriend to girlfriend, but no one ever stuck and she never seemed to mind. the sex was good — sometimes okay. they never could quite match her though. “it’s not my fault I don’t get along with them,”
“oh yes it’s always something - no banter, not intellectual enough — but I think -“
“yes, what do you think vander?” sevika spits with a snarl
“I think you’re sabotaging yourself.” he says more seriously than intended. she has nothing to say. no remark - she can’t explain away a truth they’d been skirting around whenever it came to sevika’s love life. they’d been badgering her about settling down for once, let herself be known outside of their little trio.
“drop it, vander,” she glares and he only rolls his eyes leaning forward to snatch a lighter in her hand for his joint.
it just has to be then that you walk back to their table, startled by the sudden silence as you hand out their snacks. “is everything okay?” you ask and Sevika’s smile is small but fleeting.
“do you have a strain that can lift the mood?” ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
sevika greets you by name every time she comes in now, over tips you, pulls you into conversation when she knows you should be working but she knows your boss and he’ll let it slide for her.
“so, how’s the wolf of wall street?” you whistle handing sev a clear vile with her joint in it. “you have to stop calling me that,” sevika laughs, loosening the deep blue, tie, embroidered with silver stars around her neck. “but you are! you told me yourself you’re up at 6am every day to make your matcha latte before gym, and you look at your stocks, in your giant loft —“
sevika laughs albeit a little nervously at your teasing “I did not say I had a loft,” and you smile at her coyly scratching her neck. “but am I wrong?” you ask and she ducks her head, her shoulder moving with her laughter.
“ah fuck,” she groans with a smile “leave me alone,” sev says jokingly, and you roll your eyes “okay, if you really want me to.”
but you don’t move, and sevika doesn’t say anything. she’s just looking at you, taking you in — grateful your job doesn’t have a uniform so she can see you in your wide leg pants, dark green flowers springing forth and your tight top — purple, strappy and your breasts, pressed up against them. she looks away from a moment and you chuckle having seen where her eyes ended they’re tour of you.
“you look pretty today,” sev mumbles, taking a sip of water.
“thank you sev, you look pretty put together yourself — meeting with investors ?”
“yeah,” she grunts, “something like that — I don’t know, first time I’ve felt off my game. the company’s just very white and male. I don’t know if I got the deal.” she stretches her neck, “and I hate failing,” she lets slip. furrows her eyebrows at herself because why would she tell you that?
“hey, you’re good at your job, or you wouldn’t be up for a promotion,” she shrugs at your response “plus,” you sit down next to her, “if anything you can depend on the diversity token,” you smirk and nudge her with your elbow, smoke billows out of her mouth as she laughs. coughing slightly before sitting up straight.
“I know it must be annoying, always having to shape yourself up into this heterosexual role,” you sigh, sev offers you some of her joint and you take it without question, knowing it was just you and andy your co-worker today,
“and your jobs are always with all these white, men determining whether you look good enough or if you’re well spoken enough, it’s bullshit,” you sigh and sevika nods
“it’s like I’m never doing well enough I’m tired of it,” she responds.
“you should be tired of it, but you are,” you say firmly, “good enough — don’t let them define you sev, your work shows that you’re good for it.”
“thanks,” she smiles, she’d heard it before but it felt different coming from you, because you understand her. you’re not just trying to make her feel better. it is bullshit and you let her know that it’s okay to feel that way.
“vander and silco don’t really understand it. i mean don’t get me wrong they try. but they’ll never really know.” sevika sighs and takes the j back from you when you offer it with a smile.
“I get that,” you nod and tie your locs up out of your face. “hey, I have to go check on that table,” you spot a couple with their coffee cups empty. “but I’ll be back,”
she turns the words over in her head. she didn’t ask you to, but you were coming back to her — like you always did. the first to check in on her when she came in and rarely did you leave her without at least some conversation, even when the cafe was busy. you grab sev’s hand and give it a tight squeeze and it jolts sevika’s body feeling your soft hand in hers, so warm and you trace a circle on the back of her hand that she can feel long after you’ve pulled away.
sevika should be at home by now, instead she’s following you around, watching you clean counter tops and pack away snacks for the night shift to open later.
“so, I told andy like I can’t take her every table just because she doesn’t feel like serving — do I have something on my face?” you stop rubbing at a sticky spot on the table where someone spilled something, staring at her quizzically as she looks down at you.
“no,” she smiles and then her eyes dart nervously around the room, “sorry, I was just… looking at you.” you don’t say anything for a moment, “I think you’re really pretty,” she says nervously. she hadn’t complimented someone so gently in a while. it’d all been heated praises while her hands were guided to someone’s neck. so sev chuckles uncomfortably and turns her head to stare at a painting when you say forger.
“I could have painted that. like better probably,” she says and when she looks back at you, your standing so close to her she can feel your breath on her neck.
“I think you’re beautiful,” you say, and sevika chokes on her words. she’d always been “sexy” or “hot” or “super attractive” but no one had called her beautiful. cupping her cheek so softly and with no intent.
“I just was never sure how you felt, so I didn’t say anything,” you said, and sevika holds her hand over yours, looking down at you and smiling sheepishly as you lean up and kiss the side of her mouth. “I like you,” you grin at her blush and the way she tumbles over her words.
“of course yeah, i um - do you want to come back to my place?” she rushes out and a pit forms in her stomach when you blink slowly and swallow.
“I’m sorry, did I just ruin everything?” sevika asks bluntly and you shake your head, she holds your hand to her cheek, hoping you don’t pull away.
“no it’s fine. I want to, I do. but, I’ve done that a lot recently, I mean finishing my masters it was really bad. I kind of want something real,” you say shyly, trying and failing to pull away from sevika,
“we can take it slow,” what the fuck is she thinking. she’s never taken it slow. her longest relationship was three months and she fucked it up because she always priorities work. but, you’re beautiful and kind and smart and funny and she doesn’t know if she can just let you go. at least not that easily.
“let me take you home,” sevika offers as you lock up, the sun’s not down yet but she doesn’t want you to go. you agree and whistle when you jump into her jeep.
“wolf of Wall Street— this is impressive,” sevika rolls her eyes with a smile and turns her car on.
“just fucking give me the directions,” she answers and you laugh, getting your maps out “it’s not far from here,” you say.
“if you’re not busy, maybe you can come inside, talk and have some tea or — I don’t know, maybe not-“
“no yes. I would love to,” she replies eagerly, making her way down to your place, following the maps stoic directions.
“so you said you could paint something better than what’s in the shop?” you turn to her and she blushes — she shouldn’t have said that.
“I used to paint, and sketch,” she admits, used to as if she didn’t pick up her charcoal for the first time in months to sketch every detail of your soft face.
you nod, looking around her clean car, it didn’t look like one of an artist “you should show me sometime,” you mumble and flick the boulder of the sisyphus bobble head stuck to her dash. “this is a really fucking specific bobble head,”
sevika laughs and agrees, “I got it in greece at some really overpriced tourist shop. I don’t know, vander and silco got something too, all philosophy shit because we’re—“
“really pretentious,” you laugh and she nods along “yeah yeah. we all met in our first year greek mythology course and then again in philosophy and we kind of just stuck together. and I never buy myself anything so I figured.”
“why this though? why the reminder of eternal punishment on your dashboard, every day?”
“other than the fact that it reminds me of my oldest friends?”
it’s not like you didn’t understand. you have an embroidered quilt of plath’s fig tree poem hanging in your kitchen.
“yeah, other than that,” you dig, you know there’s something more there.
“I don’t know, I felt like I was sisyphus for a long time,” she admits. something about your aura was so damn relaxing, like she could say anything around you and you wouldn’t care. “I had accepted that I had to suffer.” she drums her thumbs on the steering wheel, “that being who I am was some cosmic punishment, but then. I don’t know I figured if my boulder was who I am, I’d have to keep pushing it, even if people failed to see how light it is to me,”
you nod, finally satisfied with her answer and look over at her. she doesn’t feel like she has anything more to say. and for once she isn’t scrambling for charmed words or flirtation, she just lets herself listen to you breathe.
“paradoxical but that’s what it is to be brown and queer in this world huh,” you say and sevika nods falling into a comfortable silence until you reach your flat.
a small victorian brick building, that’s much bigger when you’re inside. stairs leading up to what you explain are two other apartments. the tenants quiet but very nice and hardly home. you walk her down the passage to your apartment door.
she’s greeted by warmth and the smell of fading incense. you turn on orange lamps and a sunset one in the living room,
“you can put your jacket on the stand there,” you say, looking at her from over the kitchen island. “and take your shoes off, please,”
sevika complies and feels a tight knot it her stomach. nerves. why is she nervous when she knows you two won’t be doing anything. the way you’d seen through her in the car, you wanted to know her, not just her body and that scared the shit out of her. should she just leave? she’s ready to put her shoes back on when you walk past her into the living room with a tray, a teapot and two cups and some honey. it’s so sweet she decides against herself to sit down on your couch beside you.
she looks around while you pour her tea, the couch is plush, you’re venitian carpeting soft under her socks. you have a feature wall painted dark green and covered in abstract paintings and one family portrait.
“that you?” sevika asks, making out our plump cheeks and toothy grin, as you lean over who she assumes in your father. she thanks you for the tea and takes a sip of the warmth,
“yeah,” you smile, “my brother is late, but my sister lives like two streets down,”
“I’m so sorry,” she offers and gently lays a hand on your shoulder. you take it and kiss the back of her hand.
“shit, sorry,” you apologise and let go off her, but she wants you to do it again, can feel the outline of your lips tingling on her hand. “s’okay,” she nods and keeps her hand on your shoulder.
“viktor was my adopted brother, he was really sick.” you stop there and turn to her with a watery smile. “I loved him a lot,”
she can tell. nods solemnly and lets you have a moment, and then your laughing a little embarrassed and wiping your eyes.
“It was a long time ago, sorry,”
“don’t be,” sev says, “I wanna know you,” she smiles and you smirk back at her, your cheeky attitude back in play, “then ask me a question,” you say, she doesn’t know where to start because she has a million.
“how’d you know you were… I don’t know sapphic?” she asks tentatively. “well, I’ve known I was a lesbian since I was like twelve. there was this girl I alway hung out with —“ you’re smiling fondly and sevika lays over your words.
“yeah?” sevika answers getting ready for your story.
she leaves way too late, all you two did was talk and laugh and she hadn’t checked her stocks or taken any calls and she can’t remember the last time she wasn’t always working, even partially, even in her free time. when she gets home she’s on her laptop until midnight, taking an international meeting and all the while, all she can think about is sitting and watching the rest of the stupid magician show she’d started with you before she saw the time.
when she clambers into bed, for the first time she notices how cool the spot beside her is. she bundles herself up in pillows and falls asleep with you on her mind.
·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
”I wanna take you on a date,” sevika smiles leaning on the counter where you’ve just finish letting a group of friends pay.
“you do?” you ask, “you doing it because you think I’ll give you discounts ?”
“I know you’ll give me discounts,” she laughs “I got something for you,” she pulls out a novel from her work satchel. “I know you wanted a physical to have, but you said you were too distracted to get one so”
the picture of dorian gray. inside the first page were names of people who had had the book before you, dating back to ‘97. you’d wanted a hard cover since you’d read it a year ago. but she’d gone above and beyond getting you a thrifted version, you liked the idea of a hand me down of something so many others like you had enjoyed and now you had one and she knew that. the thought made your heart thump.
“where did you get this?” you ask, touching over the names of all the people who’d signed it,
“just looked at like four different second hand book stores,” she shrugs and looks on fondly as you excitedly flip through the annotated pages.
“thank you!” you lean over the counter and kiss her cheek.
“and not that that was a bribe or anything but-“
“I obviously want to go on a date with you vika,” she blushes at the nickname, her heart beating a little faster. “yeah?” “yeah,” you nod and jump at andy’s snide remark for you to start your shift.
“I’ll pick you up after work,” she taps on the counter and smiles widely, the bell on the cafe door ringing loudly in her ears as she exits. for the first time in a long time, she’s more than just living. the air smells fresh, colours and bright and her heart is pumping hard, hot blood coursing to her cheeks as she thinks of you. tonight, tonight, tonight.
okay next chapter is the date and maybe a sexy little smut scene hehehe or angst. who knows? not even me. 🏷️ @iamaboringrattat @archangeldyke-all @sevsbaby @sapphicsgirl @bimboprincezz @opropheticsoul @ariariarr @sexysapphicshopowner
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I neeeeeeeeed Kyle basic dating hc! Fem reader pls!!!
Post COVID Kyle x Fem! Reader Basic Dating Headcanons
Warning(s): none!
Notes: Hai hai!! First request woohoo!! Also this is one of the first times I've done a headcanon list like this, I hope it turns out well :')
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◇ Kyle is a very considerate partner, whenever he plans to go out somewhere with you, he will make sure that you are comfortable with it as well. If he wants to go to a café, he'll make sure it's your favorite café in the whole town because he wants it to be the best experience for you.
◇ On special dates or occasions, he will leave little love notes in places he'll know you'll find them.
◇ You are his number 1, and if anyone has anything bad to say about you, he WILL be defending you to no end. In a way, he likes protecting you.
◇FOREHEAD KISSES!! I feel that Kyle loves to give you a little peck on the forehead whether it's a way to part from you or if you're sitting in his lap admiring eachother.
◇ When you guys hold hands, he unknowingly has a very firm grasp on your hand. You could be simply walking down the street with him downtown, but he'll be holding onto you like he's trying not to lose you in a crowd.
◇ I think that Kyle would also be the first one to confess
◇ Whether you live together or in separate houses while dating, he will leave sticky notes on your mirror, reminding you how beautiful and pretty you are. (Bonus thing: Kyle writes in cursive, so his handwriting is just as elegant as the compliments he gives you)
◇ Communication is key with this man, and he will make sure that any event, issue, or anything of the sort pops up, that you will know. (In a kind manner of course.)
◇ Kyle would use pet names on you sometimes, such as "sweetheart", "honey", and "dear". He hates the petname "babe" though. He just feels it's tacky idk.
◇ He loves taking long drives with you as well, just listening to you talk about yourself or what has been happening with you recently is his favorite thing. It helps him form a strong bond with you, and car conversations can turn into deep discussions about problems in the world or something as shallow as discussing his childhood favorite show, Terrance and Phillip.
◇ He rushes over any place to open the door for you, what a gentlemen.
◇ "You will forever hold a place in my heart, I love you so much," he comments to you before giving you a peck on your forehead. He smiles at you softly, lifting you up bridal style to sit on the couch with you to watch your favorite TV show together.
------
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magnifythesun · 18 hours
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CCO Anthony Padilla and President Ian Hecox of Smosh
ooooooo let's goooo!
post writing notes: YAY OKAY IVE DONE IT!!! so i read this and immediately assumed you meant a business au and i for the life of me have not been able to think of what kind of business they would run in this fic SO it is "the company" and they make money and also have shareholders and they call their employees their "crew" and dont ask me any details i was unable to figure it out!! but i think this turned out pretty cute?? more angsty than i was anticipating but with comfort i promise.
also i stayed g rated since i wasn't sure what rating you were comfortable with but Company(TM) President Ian and CCO Anthony could get it on i think if anyone wants that in the future lmao, just don't expect any details on what the hell they're selling sorry lmao! also i know nothing about business
bonus points if you can spot the direct reference to the wikipedia article for the term CCO.
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The responsibility of being in charge of the company weighed heavily on Ian. It had been at its worst when Anthony had left, the fear of driving the company into the ground, of not being a good enough leader, of failing to thrive without his right-hand man.
When Anthony had returned, it was like a breath of the freshest air. Although Ian maintained his position as President, Anthony taking the role of CCO was possibly the best business decision Ian had ever made. Anthony had always been best with the marketing and business strategy, with an eye for the best trends to get their company booming. A huge weight felt like it was moved off Ian's shoulders. He could just focus on the top-level stuff and taking care of his employees and leave the marketing, which Ian had always hated, to Anthony.
Still, this didn't mean Ian didn't get stressed anymore. Ian loved his work, but sometimes it became overwhelming, the way his mind spun around, worrying about the whether he'd assigned the right person to the right project, whether his employees were happy, and so forth. Over the course of each work week, the panic would build up inside, setting him on edge until he would lie awake at night, staring up at his bedroom ceiling as his mind flew.
Reprieve came from an unexpected corner.
There was a routine now. At the end of the work week, there was always a meeting, and he and Anthony would attend. Ian would mostly listen, too stressed and sleep-deprived to think of any meaning contribution. Plus, Anthony was better at leading the meeting anyway, as it was mostly about that week's sales. Afterward, Anthony would talk him down from all his worries, and Ian would be able to breathe until the next week began. This week was no different.
At the end of the meeting, everyone filed out, excited to book it home for the weekend, leaving Ian and Anthony alone in the big meeting room. Ian let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging, letting the last shards of his confident facade crumble and fall. Anthony glanced over at him as he shuffled his papers back into order.
"You alright?" He asked this every week.
"You know me," Ian waved a hand dismissively, "I get in my head."
"You're too hard on yourself, man," Anthony tapped the papers on the desk with finality. "Didn't you hear anything I said just now? Our sales are up, stockholders happy, and we even get to give a big bonus to the whole 'crew,' just like you always talk about doing."
Ian shook his head like he could knock the words away, standing up to face the big window that was letting in the light of the late afternoon sun.
"This year is going great, Ian! Why won't you let yourself celebrate this success that we've built?"
Anthony sounded tired. Ian couldn't blame him. They'd had this conversation every week for the last six months. However, this time, Anthony's words just couldn't shake the dread inside him.
This year, things were going great. But it wasn't that long ago when it had been the whole company on Ian's shoulders, margins in the red, the heavy weight of responsibility for all of his people's livelihoods crushing him into the ground. What's to say this year's success wouldn't be short-lived? Was there already something he wasn't seeing, some sign of trouble to come?
And what if, when things got rough... What if Anthony...
A gentle warm grip on his wrist startled him out of his thoughts. Ian turned, surprised. They'd had this conversation a million times, but Anthony always talked him out of it, sitting over at the table while Ian paced out his anxieties. He'd never come to join him by the window, and certainly had never—
Anthony tugged him slightly so that they were facing each other directly, the sunlight filtering through Anthony's hair so that the light brown highlights he'd gotten sparkled. Ian, for a blessed moment, couldn't think of anything else at all. Then, Anthony's hands took his own.
"I," Anthony started, not seeming sure of himself, "I get this feeling. Every week, I reassure you about the company. About how we're doing. About how our 'crew' seems really happy about where we're at, how we're seeing success at levels we could barely dream of back when we first started this." Anthony paused, his face filled with such genuine worry that Ian felt the hot sting of guilt roil in his stomach. "But, Ian, telling you all that doesn't seem to help you for very long."
Ian sighed, looking off to the side. "I'm sorry, I don't know-"
"I think I do," Anthony cut him off, reaching up to grab his shoulders instead. "Ian, I don't even know if I can say this in a way that will fully convince you, but I—," He pushed through with growing confidence, "I'm not leaving this company again."
How did this man always see right through him?
"I'm not leaving you again," Anthony said, quieter, and Ian couldn't stop the tears that were coming to his eyes. "Ever. Do you understand?"
Ian reached up and swiped the tears away. "Yeah," He said, shakily.
"I'm not leaving." Anthony shook him slightly, the look in his eyes so serious that it began to chip away at the pit in Ian's stomach that had sat there for years.
"Right. Yeah," Ian nodded his head.
"I'm not. We're gonna be running this thing for years," Anthony smiled, "Into the ground if necessary."
Ian laughed, "Okay, okay. I believe you." And he actually did. Another, heavier weight that he hadn't realized he was still carrying felt like it was melting away. "Alright, good."
They stood there just a little too long, Anthony's hands warm on Ian's shoulders, the sun bringing out each delicate shade of brown in Anthony's eyes. And again, for a moment, Ian couldn't think about anything else.
"Right, so." Anthony let go and walked back over to the table. Ian took in a slow, deep breath and let it out as Anthony grabbed his papers and shoved them in his briefcase. "I don't know if you even realized with your President head so far above the clouds, but we just wrapped a fiscal year!"
Ian rolled his eyes. "Of course I know that."
"Just checking!" Anthony beamed at him. "So, wanna celebrate? How about soup at your place?"
That startled a sharp laugh out of Ian. "That's the biggest celebration you can think of?"
"Look," Anthony held up a haughty finger. "As your CCO, I think making soup tonight will allow us to achieve our long-term objectives."
Ian scoffed. "Yeah, your long-term objective to have me cook you soup," Ian said dryly, grabbing his own briefcase and heading toward the door.
"No, hey, hear me out!" Anthony followed him out. "I've got a whole pitch for it and everything!"
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Hi guys! Before I go to bed, I just want to say- I don't know why but I've been missing more notifications lately. I'm usually pretty organized about checking them and responding to all inboxes, messages, replies, etc. but I've been missing more lately, and idk if it's me or Tumblr. But the only thing I sometimes intentionally don't get to are like..tag games where you create a piccrew or take a quiz or whatever (which I still love to be tagged in, I just don't always get to them). But I just want to make sure you all know I'm not ignoring you! A few of you have been like "wow, you're actually responding??" of course! I WANT to respond to you, because you deserve a response! If I miss something, it's a genuine mistake, and you are more than welcome to message, inbox, tag me again! You're NOT bothering me.
A few exceptions being:
if you sent an advice ask, it might take me a day or two, since I only answer five a day, for my mental health
if you sent a fic request, I put it in my request list, but I do those based on time and inspiration. to see if I got yours, you can always check the spreadsheet I link on my pinned post.
If you sent or tagged me in something I've previously said is a boundary of mine, I will ignore it. I won't call you out unless you're being a jerk and I'm feeling petty, I'll just delete it.
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angelsdean · 10 days
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ruthlessly deleting old 2021/2022 posts (not by me) from my dean studies tag like *click* un-incorporating that from my beliefs system! also the way SO many posts have me like ok uh-huh good aaand then say one completely wrong thing that loses me. it's so many posts.
#it's usually when they randomly drop some line of fanon. like saying dean has never admitted to being wrong in his life#or never expressed an emotion or been vulnerable or doesn't Talk About Feelings or is super duper RepressedTM#like i'm sorry. have you watched the show. oh and have you taken off the sammy POV goggles first?#bc this guy is always crying and being vulnerable and talking about his feelings. he is self-aware.#he may not always want to talk to sam abt things! but he sure does talk about things with other people#do i need to reblog the compilation posts AGAIN?#(also re: his sexualiy? AWARE. sorry i saw him flirt and be flustered by so many men. he knows how he feels.)#and then 'first time ever admitting to being wrong' this one came from a post abt dean's prayer in the trap#like i'm sorry but first of all. dean apologizes more than any other character on the show. there are hard numbers on this.#people have tracked this on spreadsheets. i think ilarual is one of them.#and often he is apologizing for things that aren't even his fault! but he still feels responsible for bc he's been made to feel that way#his whole life!!#other characters *cough samandcas *cough* apologizing Less doesn't mean they've Done less things wrong#it just means they're not owning up to it and brushing it under the rug. something both do frequently.#anyways. aside from apologies. dean also has no problem admitting he's wrong y'know when he's actually wrong#which is less often than you'd think bc he has pretty good instincts and intuition and often suspects things which turn out to be Right#but anyways. another thing abt the trap prayer is. i don't think cas Needed to be forgiven#i think dean was justified in feeling angry w cas over the circumstances leading to the Death of His Mother! totally normal grief response!#i think cas also understands dean to be someone who needs time to process and deal with his feelings (he says as much to jack)#however. despite me not think dean Needs to forgive cas. the thing is. with dean when it comes to cas the forgiveness is implicit#when he says /of course i forgive you/ and in the cut like /of course i wanted you to stay/ like. yes he was mad and dealing with grief#but also. yes cas was already forgiven even back then. he just needed Time to work through the feelings#anyways i think dean says he 'forgives' cas bc it's what CAS needed to hear to stop feeling guilty and dean gives him that closure#but i also think cas was already forgiven even in dean's anger. he wants him there always. i'd rather have you. we can fix this. etc etc#a lot of tags for a non-rebloggable post ajksdfs maybe i'll make these into a real post sometime#vic.txt#dean and feelings#so i can find this all again later
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robindaydream · 10 months
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He's catching me up on the characters and story arcs
artfight attack of Ugly Finder (featuring Daydream) for @bananasmores
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mercyluvsyouuu · 6 months
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People when fucked up media is actually Fucked Up and not just "haha silly little gremlin makes SEX JOKE?!?!🤯 so DEVIOUS..."
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anaalnathrakhs · 4 days
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"people love you uwu people care about you" okay? not my problem. love me less. can we work out a reasonable level of care where it's obviously not cool if horrible things happen to me, a human being, and you won't do any horrible thing to me, but you don't feel obligated to fuss over anything out of the ordinary i do and i have to shut up about it and perform Normal Human Emotions lest i commit an awful social faux pas and hurt your feelings?
#like idk. can you care about stuff that matters? i guess is what i'm asking?#sorry that my own self-directed problems hurt you <3#sorry that i'm a horrible person if i talk about it and a horrible person if i don't <3#i just shouldn't have problems i guess cant believe i didnt think abt that#sorry i don't really care if people would be sad to see me die#would actually be pretty nice to get past the huge feeling of guilt over not being helpful all the fucking time#like i can't go through life being a service dog for everybody around me#(and i dont to be clear. it's not possible and when i say i feel guilty over not doing it it doesn't mean i do 100% of the time)#(i do try to be helpful and useful and i hate missing an opportunity but also i don't have 24/7 free of obligations)#(and i can't magically spot and correctly understand what could need help)#(but i feel like it does take up a good portion of my life. mostly bc everybody around me has Problems rn)#(and because the overlap of ''things that feel good for me'' and ''things that are good for other people'' is pretty small so far)#it's just. yknow. i would like it if for once i could express a negative feeling without it being a huge offense to people around me#ejhrkthrjeh i know i'm just asking the universe if pretty please my actions could have zero consequences and it's overall unrealistic#but like. god. i wish for once it was met with indifference. casual vibes. not a huge deal yknow.#some of my friends do sometimes! it's nice! but of course i can't talk abt the problems that directly include them#i know it makes me so shit at reacting to ppls problems. like either i overcompensate with the worry cuz i feel like thats what they want#or i react coldly and dont provide anything useful to the situation#broadcasting my misery#vent
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turtlemagnum · 2 months
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thinking about how the people around me, particularly people i dont know anymore, impacted my fantasy setting. the raccoon people i added because of a friend who wanted to be a raccoon. goblins existing in the way that they do because of someone i still know who really likes a specific kind of goblin, and made me like them too. even minor things, like deciding that a character's eyes were gray because the person i was talking to also had gray eyes. there"s definitely a lot of me in there, but there's still little bits and pieces of others in there too
#a pretty significant plot point for one of my characters is heavily inspired by stuff my mom dealt with#i really hope i can properly convey the gravity of the topic. particularly with tact due to how poorly i've seen it handled#in my writing i try to approach any topic with the baseline amount of empathy that people deserve. i feel *a lot*.#i sincerely hope it comes through that i care so much about so much#a particularly hurtful exchange i recently had was me casually saying that i care about a lot of things and my grandpa almost accusitorily#asked “like what”#i'm generally pretty open about what's on my mind. i try to connect with people time and time again and so often do i get nothing in return#it makes it hard to go on. sometimes.#one day. i hope i'll meet someone who cares as much as i do. cares about me as much as i care about them.#if i meet even one it'll have all been worth it.#part of me feels like saying “i can't bear to live like this anymore”. but i can. and i have. i can bare a lot actually#i don't think i'd be alive if i couldn't#there's a lot wrong in the world right now. i can't bear to watch most of it. this of course makes me feel even more guilty#at the very least i've made a habit of clicking the arab dot org buttons daily. i can't handle watching but i can at least help.#in a small way. that is.#i definitely feel like i needed to get that out of my system. rambling is what i do. after all#i feel like i have an abnormally strong will to live. i remember coming very close to a suicide attempt once. the razor actually cut into my#wrist just a little bit. i very much wanted to die at that point. on an emotional level#but i just couldn't do it. i need to live. i just need to. it'll have all been worth it. eventually.#eventually.
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freudenstein · 2 years
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Princess Tutu had a surprisingly great ending. It's almost cathartic for a story that's about stories and endings to stories to have a pretty good ending itself.
#princess tutu#(spoilers) still would have wanted tutu to confess her love to fakir and turn into a speck of light#but thats kinda morbid of me. its defintiely better that she gets to stay alive as her true duck self lol#and the story is in good hands now (fakir's)...i guess????#i really enjoyed the meta themes in this anime. so much relatable stuff for a story writer#so true drosselmayer! your characters do indeed just whatever they feel like sometimes and surprise YOU with where they take the story!!!#im pretty sure fakir has a crush on tutu and he can write stories now so i suppose he could make her a girl somehow xD#altho that would be contradicting what he told her about just existing as yourself....#overall its the perfect ending while remaining internally consistent. fakir was never meant to pick up a sword and would have died in vain#just because the story infected his town. he was always supposed to be a writer and now he is. and ahiru was always supposed to be a duck#so#AND OMG RIGHT THE ED....SO ITS HIS REFLECTION ON THE WATER RIGHT#im glad rue got her happy ending because she deserves it after all the suffering. and i even forgave mytho for being so boring for 80%#of the story. he somehow made up for it in the end#i love fakir the most tho. that character is layered and changed so much throughout the story its insaaane. a sweetheart too 🥺#but i basically liked everybody except mytho LOL i was so frustrated in the kraehe parts because i felt like rue was being done dirty#and i was rooting for rue 😭 plus ahiru of course is so cute and lovable#anyways. super wild. loved how everything had to be dancing and the ''stage-like'' scenes and the music omfg#and the damn cat teacher lmao#As a writer princess tutu spoke to me.... I'm touched by this story; as a writer. It really does things to you on multiple levels like that#fakir can only write if its about ahiru...🥲 is this what its like to have a muse??? is this what i need to finally move#forward as a writer??? 😭😭
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