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#and i am so sick of trying and putting myself out there for things i'd be amazing at and instead
dandyshucks · 2 months
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everyone pray for me that i did not just give myself food poisoning (;・∀・)
#i may have made a bad decision with the meat i cooked shdjdkl BUT I THINK IT'LL BE FINE#it was past the date on the packaging but it didnt smell or look or feel off at all so . i decided to risk it#and now im panicking bc i think perhaps that was actually rly stupid fhdkdl#but it was. so much money. i had no idea the date was so soon on the package when i got it from mum#I would've frozen it if I'd known dhdksl i should've looked#alas !!! i think it'll be fine tbh bc it genuinely did not seem spoiled at all so ... now we just pray#i had a fairly small serving of it and I'll see how i feel to figure out if the rest of it is safe to eat or not#im just fhdjdkl crying a little rn bc the past two days have been so awful and im so tired#i rly dont want to get sick on top of everything else going on#i would like one thing to go well fjdkdl just like. one thing. this feels like divine punishment for having the old lady group go so well#im just kind of losing my mind rn i think actually fhfkdl i have a therapy/counseling appt on monday though so we'll see if that helps#i do not have high hopes fjfkdl#MANNNN. can the universe give me a break PLEASE. I've been trying so hard the past three weeks to do well 😭😭#im putting in so much work and effort fhdksl can i PLEASE have this one thing go okay djdksl i do not want to get sick !!!#if i do get sick then im just. hhhhh. idk djdkdl it's just one more thing to add to my pile of Bad ig djdkdl what can ya do djdkdl#i am going to pull myself together and stop crying and go play stardew maybe idk fjdkdl i feel like im starting to crack a little bit#augh. augh. i would love to catch a break djdkdl#dandyshucks#vent //
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justinefrischmanngf · 2 years
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i literally just need to restructure five scenes and then i can do whatever i want . just five . then i can read orientalism and play guitar and sleep . it's only five scenes .
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s2g every time I try and make a point to my boss/boss's boss it ends up being more trouble than it's worth bc they are somehow hell bent on misunderstanding me.
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mochinek0 · 2 months
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In Sickness and in Health
"Damian, I need you to work with the new student on this project." his history teacher stated.
"What new student?" the young Wayne questioned.
'There's no one new here. Has he finally lost it?'
"Stay after class, please." they replied.
Damian simply nodded.
'At least if the new person is all in his head, I can work by myself.'
"The new student isn't here today as she's sick. They're also a transfer student." The teacher spoke, "Here is her address."
"You want me to go there and become ill?" Damian speculated.
"Not at all, Mr. Wayne. All I am asking is that you, at least, speak to her about the project." the teacher sighed, "She'll know better than anyone how long she'll be absent. Get her to write a note saying, I don't know, she gives you full control on the project or something. I'll deal with it from there."
"I can do that." Damian accepted.
'At least I can still work by myself.'
Damian looked down at the address in his hand an then back at the seamstress shop. Confused, the young Wayne entered the store and looked around for someone his own age.
"Can I help you?" asked an elderly lady.
"I was given this address for a classmate of mine." Damian explained, "I believe they mixed it up. Excuse me."
"Are you looking for Marinette?" they questioned.
'Marinette? Is that her name? Not American; he did mention they were a transfer student.'
"Yes." he answered, still unsure.
"Go through the blue curtain in the far back." the lady smiled, "There's a set of stairs that will take you to the apartment above the store."
Damian nodded and went to the back of the store. There was blue cloth hung up on a shower rod that parted slightly.
'A door would be better suited.'
Damian walked up the stairs to the second story and found single door. He raised his hand and knocked on the door. The door opened and he was shocked. There in the doorway was a girl with blue hair, up to his chest. She was wearing what seemed to be pajamas, had a blanket draped over her shoulders, a face mask, and a cooling cloth attached to her forehead.
'She is obviously seriously ill. How did she open the door? Why didn’t anyone else open it for her?'
"Who are you?" she questioned, hoarsely.
"Damian Wayne." he declared, "I was told to talk to you about a history project for school."
She moved away from the door and went stright to the kitchen.
"Sit anywhere you want. I haven't sat in the living room in three days. I'd offer you a beverage, but I don't want to get you sick and asking you to get it yourself, seems rude." the girl spoke.
'Polite; unexpected.'
"What are you doing?" Damian questioned, as he watched her stir a pot.
"Making soup for the week." Marinette answered.
"So, I should not expect you to return this week." he suggested.
"I usually eat soup when I'm sick and for the following days, to keep my immune system cleansed." she explained, "So, history? Leave me the details and I'll work on it."
"Mr. Hayes suggested you could write a note putting me in charge." Damian spoke.
"I can work, Damian." Mari remarked, "I don't need you coddling me because I'm sick."
'Coddle! I-The last thing I would do is….coddle her!'
Damian snapped, "I am giving you a way out! Get your rest and I will do it completely!"
"I'm on bedrest and as you can see, I'm functional." she growled back.
Marinette began to cough heavidly, enough to make her grip the kitchen counter. Damian watched as her breaths became labored, as if she had trouble inhaling.
'She calls this functional?'
Marinette grabbed a mug and poured hot water from a near by kettle. Damian watched as she spooned a small amount of tea leaves into a container and place it in the mug.
'Peppermint? She should try lemon, ginger, something citrus.'
"When are your parents getting back?" Damian asked, not moving from the doorway.
"I'm emancipated." she smiled.
'She's by herself?'
Damian looked around and noticed a small table with one chair. The living room had enough to seat up to three guests. There was also one door to the left, behind the living room.
"Leave the form and an email or something so I can send you my portion." Marinette called out, "If you don't like it, I can work in my room and you can work from out here."
Damian took out a pen and quickly wrote down his email at the top of the paper.
"I'll be back, tomorrow." he stated, leaving the apartment.
'Why is she so stubborn? She needs to rest. The simplest solution would be for her to rest this week while I work alone. What is she trying to accomplish?'
The moment she opened the door, Damian stared at Marinette annoyed. She had showed recently, but her hair was still wet. At the very least, she was wearing different clothes.
He scowled, "Where is the bathroom?"
"Oh, in my room, on your left." Marinette pointed out.
'Guess he really needed to go.'
Damian came back with a towel and threw it over her head, without notice. He quickly began to rub her head to get the moisture out.
"You're going to get worse with you hair looking like a wet mop." Damian stated, "Dry it completely."
Marinette remained silent and still. Damian stopped his movements.
"Marinette?" he asked, moving to face her.
'Shit!'
Marinette's eyes were wide and she was practially hyperventilating. She was clenching and unclenching her hands.
'She does not handle physical contact well. Is she going to be okay at school?'
Damian kneeled in front of her and showed his hands were raised in front of him.
"My apologies." Damian whispered, "I didn't mean to startle you."
Damian reached out and dragged his bag, next to the couch. He pulled out a small cylinder.
"I brought you some tea leaves. Citrus help you recover from illness." he began, "I don't believe peppermint will work." as he handed her the container.
Marinette took it and looked at it. She opened it and sniffed the tea leaves. There was lemon, cinnamon, ginger, and cloves. There was some other stuff she couldn't make out.
"You......made this?" Marinette questioned.
'Why would he give this to me?'
Damian remained silent, but nodded. He didn't think she would noticed he took his time to make her something.
"I make my own teas." he replied.
Mari smiled, "Thank you."
Damian watched as her expression softened. She got up from her seat, letting the towel fall from her head, and quickly began to get things ready to brew the tea. Once it was finished brewing, she took a sip.
"It’s delicious, Damian!" Mari smiled, happily, "Maybe I should go to you for all of my teas."
Before he could respond, Marinette took her tea and went into her room. Damian picked up his things and saw she had gotten comfortable in her bed with her laptop on a tray.
"Were we not working over there?" he questioned.
"I don't want to get you sick." Marinette replied, "Besides, there's only one chair. I'll just email you-"
Damian left the room and returned with the chair from her kitchen table.
"I don't get sick, easily." Damian declared, setting the chair down a few feet from her bed, "h quicker we finish this, the more you can rest."
Marinette worked silently, sipping on the tea Damian had brought her. After an hour, Damian packed up his thing, declaring he'd return the next day.
This time, when Marinette opened the door, he could tell she was moving much more sluggish.
'She got worse! She's pushing herself for me. Damn her stubbornness!'
Damian quickly picked her up in his arms.
"You're-" she began.
"If I get sick, I will blame you later." Damian claimed.
"Sorry." Mari whispered.
Damian placed her back in her bed. He quickly rushed to the bathroom in search of a first aid kit or at least, a thermometer. Once he found it, he brought it back and held it out. Mairnette looked at it, in dissapointment.
"Use it." he demanded.
Marinette shoved it in her mouth and waited. The quick beeping notified them both something was wrong. Mari took it out of her mouth n tried to hide it. Damian was able to grab it with ease.
'102.5'
"I'm fine." Marinette declared.
"You are far from fine." Damian stated.
Damian took the thermometer to the bathroom and washed it, as well as his hands. When he returned, he found Marinette fast asleep. He found a cooling pad near by and placed it on her head. Damian remember a small cloth by the sink and wet it. He quickly cooled off her arms, her neck, and her legs, before covering her up. Damian took out a sticky note and wrote down his number.
Marinette woke up to the room being dark.
"Damian?" she called out.
She grabbed her phone and saw it was close to two in the morning. She set her phone down and felt a paper.
'Sticky note?'
She turned on the flashlight on her phone and looked at the note: Call me if you worsen-Damian.
'Aw. He's really sweet. I feel so bad for falling asleep on him.'
Marinette stood up and made her way to the bathroom. She grabbed the thermometer from the medicine cabinet and took her temperature. It read 99.2; it was the best it had been all week. She washed the thermometer and took some medicine. After, she made more of Damian's tea.
'Gonna need it.'
Damian arrived back from patrol to find an email from Mari.
'I thought I told her to call me if she got worse, not email me!'
He opened it in a panic and found it was her completed work for the assignment. Damian looked at the time. It was now three in the morning and she had sent it thirty minutes ago. He grabbed his phone and opened his contacts. Then, he froze.
'I don’t have her number! Fuck!'
Damian went over the next day and was surprised to see her more active. Marinette had answered the door happily and was dressed in white tank top, pink shorts, and slippers. She wasn't even using a blanket to keep herself warm.
"Damian!" She smiled, "Hey, did you get my email?"
"I did." he answered.
"Is everything okay?" Mari asked, "I didn't think I'd see you today."
"Why did you send it so late or early, I should say." Damain questioned.
"It was when I woke up." Marinette answered, "I'm sorry for falling asleep on you. I decided it was best to work on it, while I had a clear head. I'm feeling a lot better, so I should be able to see you at school tomorrow. I'm sure it was all thanks to your tea."
Damian nodded and held out his phone for her to grab. Marinette looked at it confused, but took it.
"I planned on yelling at you, for being up so late, but I didn't have you number." the young Wayne stated.
Marinette giggled, "And I should give it to you, why?"
Damian remained silent. He didn't think she would refuse to give her number to him.
"In case we are paired up again." he quickly spoke.
Mari added her contact information and handed it back.
"Sick Girl?" he questioned.
"So you know it's me." Mari answered.
He hated how right she was. It was likely that if she had entered her name, he would have forgotten it in a week and deleted it.
"Do you want to come in or was that all?" she asked.
"That was all." he said and quickly left.
Marinette closed the door an giggled.
'He's like a stray cat that came to say hi.'
Damian sat in class and kept his eyes on the door. Marinette hadn't walked in, yet, and it was almost time for the bell to ring.
'Is she still sick? Did her fever come back? I should have called her this morning to make sure she was feeling fine.'
The bell rang breaking him from his thoughts and then, she rushed in.
'Marinette.'
"Late." their teacher declared, "I will forgive you, this time, since you have been sick, Miss Duapin-Cheng."
Marinette nodded her head. It was finally time for history class and it was so different to see her in uniform. Damian could admit he more use to seeing her in pajamas or shorts, with her blanket curled around her. He was even use to her falling asleep, but some how the uniform felt less personal. He hated it. Damian watched carefully over Marinette. He had to make sure she was completely better. Her damn stubbornness left him worried about her pretending to feel better for his sake. Then, he saw it; the tense smile on her face. She was surrounded by their peers. It reminded him of the smiles his brothers' gave at parties. Damian walked over and grabbed her wrist.
"We need to talk about the project since you have been absent." he declared.
"Oh, okay." Marinette answered, as he pulled her away from everyone else.
"He could have been nicer."
"It's Wayne. When is he ever nice?"
"Lucky bitch."
"I can’t believe she was his partner."
"He probably did it himself, already."
"Yeah. He's just gonna give her a copy and put her name on it."
"I can’t believe he touched her."
"True."
"Better than him yelling at us to move or scram, again."
Marinette frowned as she heard what they said about Damian. That wasn't the Damian she knew.
"Thank you." Marinette whispered, once they were far enough.
Damian looked at her questioningly.
"For rescuing me." she answered.
"You appeared uncomfortable." the young Wayne spoke, " I was uncertain how you would react if one of them touched you. I understand if I made you uncomfortable, as well. My apologies for forcing you. Next time, tell them to leave."
"I'm not good at dealing with people; not anymore." Mari declared, "Besides, they should forget about me soon. I'm still 'new' in their eyes. I'm not trying to gain anything by talking to them. I don’t want to get to know them."
"I thought you weren't coming." Damian spoke, changing the subject.
"Huh?" she asked, confused, "I told you I was coming today."
"You were late." he growled.
"Oh." Marinette winced, "Uh….I have a feeling I will be in detention a lot."
Damian stopped and turned to her, waiting for an explanation.
"I have always been late to school, even when it was across from my house." she stated.
Damian sighed, "I'll pick you up in the mornings."
"No!" she cried out.
"Why?" he demanded, "Is that an issue? I have been to your place before, have I not?"
"I'm not a morning person." Mari replied, looking down.
He sighed again, "My brother isn't either, unless he has had coffee. I can bring you some." making a mental note to steal Tim's coffee in the morning from now on.
"Really?" Mari questioned, perking up.
"You better, at least, be dressed." Damian retorted.
"Pajamas count as being dressed, right?" she squeaked.
Damian glared at her, "Why would you still be in pajamas?"
"I'm not a morning person!" Marinette glared back, "I work late and-"
"The shop keeps you that busy?" he questioned.
"Oh." Marinette spoke, "No. I help in the shop sometimes, but that's not my job. I do commissions. She asks me to help some times, but she's going to let me use the sewing machine for free until I can buy one."
"How….long do your commissions take?" he sighed.
"Depends who it's for. If it's for my uncle, I tend to work three weeks straight. It also depends on the pay and timeline. If he called me right now and asked for something in six months, I wouldn't worry unless things began to pile up. It could also be one of my aunties."
'What the fuck is with her family? No wonder why she is emancipated! I can't believe they would work her that hard.'
"You're moving into the manor." Damian declared, "I'll even get you a new sewing machine."
"I am not!" she cried out, "I barely know you! All I know is you name and you make tea!"
"At this rate, I'll have to get you dressed and drag you to school!" Damian cried back.
"Who the fuck made you my babysitter?" Marinette shouted.
"Someone should be." he huffed, "You obviously need someone to take care of you. I don’t see why it shouldn't be me!"
Marinette squeaked and turned red. Realizing what he said, so did Damian.
The teacher watched as Damian took Marinette aside to talk. He was well aware that their assignment had been turned in three days ago. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was the closest he had ever seen Damian be comfortable around anyone. He also was aware of Marinette's past school and being bullied.
'I knew getting them to talk would be a good thing.'
DAMINETTE TAGLIST: @meme991001 @umbreon-worshipper @stainedglassm @jasmine-the-fox @psychicdelusionwerewolf @vixen-uchiha @mysteriouschar @missmadwoman @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @dissarraymania @tundra1029 @abrx2002 @mrsjacuinde @ledalasombra @animegirlweeb
TAGLIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @tigresslily @legodetectivemalsblog
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sm-baby · 2 months
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"Freakshow!Caine gonna get destroyed"
"(Detailed or even just snippets of explaining why he'd hold his weight and why he holds a title of god already if this base was weak he'd be in no position of power he's in now he is Not weak)"
"Oh no ): Carnival!Pomni doesn't actually stand a chance"
You guys need to adopt some more complex understandings they can both be op as hell Especially in different ways making their strengths and weaknesses more unique and a challenge to overcome in each other's cases something I'd like to take in account I saw in passing that despite the fact Freakshow!Caine has been stared to be a powerhouse he values brain over brawn and Pomni an antivirus system has been described earlier if it cannot easily quarantine a virus it will trying to eradicate it with brute force this is One thing I have collected and am fascinated to see play out because this has been implied to be a brain vs brawn except the brain has godmode on and the brawn is at the moment a living computer lie obviously there's complexities I myself am leaving out and they definitely aren't equals but their strengths are maxed in different areas and you Know they're gonna exploit each other's unique weaknesses to one another this battle would be Sick as hell to watch go down no matter who is truly going to be the winner and even if it's revealed one of them never actually stood a chance I'd still put my money the other is going to knock the other down in a way it'd Never be easy to recover from physically or mentally though I doubt Caine would ever admit fear and Pomni... as nonsentient I'm so curious how that'd even take a toll on her other than the virus physically lingering in her constantly her antivirus always beating it down but it one step ahead like a nasty sickness she can't cure herself it's all just fascinating
YEP!!!!
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YALL THATS WHAT MAKES IT F U N .. THEY'RE BOTH STRONG... LISTEN TO YOURSELF-
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being an adhd person living with an adhd person sometimes means having to come up with interesting solutions to problems
I have a very good medication taking routine, I very rarely miss my morning and night meds, my roommate is not good at this, so my roommate sheepishly asked if I could remind them to take their meds when I take mine
in order to remind myself to do this I have had to keep their medication right next to mine (this is fine I will not mix them up because I am very careful about medications to a slightly excessive degree)
however my roommate is leaving early tomorrow for a work trip, and we forgot to sort out what will be done about their morning medication before they went to bed, I'm currently very sick and have been sleeping in a lot so I might not wake up to an early alarm
I can't leave the meds out in the kitchen with a note because the ✨adhd✨makes the chances of them simply not noticing it very high (also I don't know where my stationary is)
I thought of putting it on top of something they'll take with them but I have no idea what they'll be taking and also their stuff is kind of everywhere because we're both still unpacking from moving house
the solution
I put them in a little pill carrier and sat them on top of the bag of cat biscuits
because if there is one thing they will definitely do before they leave, it's feed the cat, because the cat sure as fuck will not let them forget
I also left the pill box sitting open so they wouldn't just move it out of the way automatically without realising what was in it, thankfully the cat biscuits are kept up high where the cat can't reach and knock the pills over (not that she would try anyway she is exceptionally lazy)
adhd roommates by theory sounds like it should be a disaster (and admittedly when it comes to washing the dishes it is) but it's nice to live with someone who thinks the way you think so we can do little things for each other like this in ways that make sense to us
I'm certain if I were neurotypical I would
A) have left the pills on the counter with a note and incorrectly assumed that would do the job just fine and
B) I'd be able to do that because I would probably know exactly where my stationary is
and to add an extra dash of ✨adhd fuckery✨ while writing this post I just looked up at my pills container and noticed my roommates pills weren't there for tomorrow, and got very confused before remembering I had JUST put them out on the cat food and was also literally in the middle of writing this post about how I put them out on the cat food
no fucking wonder neurotypicals can't figure us out
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absentlyabbie · 1 year
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don't be afraid of buying things that make your life easier. don't talk yourself out of it, beat yourself up for being "lazy", or shame yourself for not being able to do things the "right" way so you don't deserve to try it a different way.
if there's a thing out there that can make something faster, more bearable, less painful, more tolerable, anything like that at all, and you can afford it? you have the right, you deserve it, and you should do it.
i've stuck for the last several years with exclusively those detachable sprayer showerheads, because i need to be able to sit down in the bath and it makes the entire operation easier, so i'm less likely to risk a concussion or pass out or wobble and slip.
for the last few years, i've been using one with a little powerwash spray setting and i use it before and after every shower and it keeps my tub and shower cleaner so much longer, which is great because i hate cleaning the bath and can put it off for months, and scrubbing kills my shoulders.
sometimes, whether it's the executive dysfunction, or the depression, or knowing that i become entirely detached from the concept of time when in the shower, if i can't bring myself to get in the damn thing and do a full-blown shower, and i know i'd just be uncomfortable and not clean and still keep putting it off (because i can easily lose well over an hour once in there), i will kneel on my (cushy, quick-dry, memory foam) bathroom mat beside the tub and lean over it to wash my hair and face and maybe soap up to my shoulders. then later when it feels like a way more manageable and shorter task i can do a quick scrub and rinse.
i've bought cbd for when my joint pain makes sleeping otherwise impossible (even though it's expensive) and a work desk that has expandable legs to be a bed desk if i ever need to work sick (i'm lucky to be remote since my job change).
i've bought the screw-top, 40oz, insulated mugs and extra long plastic straws (do not @ me) and the pop-bottom giant cube ice trays all because every one of those helps ensure i drink more water every day (and so does the faucet-mounted water filter).
i buy specific individual snacks that require little to no prep so even when the execution of making a sandwich is Too Damn Much, i can still make myself do some calorie intake.
i talked myself into a cushioned mattress topper to relieve my spine and because it's way cheaper than a new mattress. i bought blackout curtains for our old apartment because the outdoor lights were insanely bright at all hours and made sleep even more elusive.
i've purchased slip on-only shoes or no-tie laces because i hate tying shoelace knots, my hands are less dexterous than ever (and hurt), and because i struggle with time management and it's one small thing to shave off just a little more time so i'm a little less late.
i didn't buy all of these things all at once, definitely. i am, sadly, made of meat and not money.
but i started budgeting, slowly, more and more of whatever amount of disposable income i had after bills towards "thing to make life suck less and not be so hard" and i can't regret it in the least.
i deserve not only small comforts and joys, but also less pain and difficulty, and ways to make challenging parts of life a little more within my reach with not quite as much effort.
so do you.
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comicglitterr0909 · 5 months
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Confused. Vanessa Shelly/Afton x Fem!Reader
Vanessa Shelly/Afton x reader who is really bad with emotions. Reader basically had not the best life, and wasn't allowed to show emotions growing up, and so when reader starts catching feelings for Vanessa, you don't know what it is so they are really confused and awkward around Vanessa, also Mike kinda just doesn't exist in this lmao :D
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Even though the pizzeria might not have been my first choice, it's really not that bad. Or maybe I'm just trying to convince myself of that…oh well. I close my car door, careful not to do it too hard, the door would probably fall off. I really needed this job, I have maybe 100 dollars to my name. Sighing I use the key that Mr Raglan gave me, I try to unlock it one way, it doesn't unlock.
“Shit..” I mutter to myself, I turn the key a different way, flip it around, I try everything and it just isn't unlocking. I stand there for like 30 minutes fumbling with this stupid fucking key, and just my luck. A cop car pulls up, oh cool they can probably help me, wait oh shit, they are gonna think im trying to break in. I worriedly look at the cop car and wave, the windows are tinted and it's dark out so I can't see who's in there. Fuck fuck fuck fuck, I try to use the key again, glancing back at the female cop who just got out of her car. She looks nice… she can help, wait, all cops look nice, that's their tactic. 
“Hey. What are you doing?” The officer says as I quickly turn around, I can feel my heart start beating faster, I'm usually fine around cops though, whatever it's just nerves. “Officer! Hi um I'm the security guard here, the key I was given isn’t working. I've been trying for like 30 minutes haha…” That was convincing and definitely not suspicious. Shit. She raises her eyebrow, looking me up and down, and glancing at the lock behind me. “You're really lucky that the owner said there was a new security guard, or I'd probably arrest you. Here let me try.” She says with a smile, I hand her the key without saying anything. Woah my stomach feels weird, am I sick or something?? It feels like my stomach has like… horses running around in it. Weird description but whatever…taking a step back I watch as she unlocks it on the first try. 
That's awkward. “How did you do that?? I swear I... I tried for like 30 minutes…” She turns around and gives me back the key, looking me up and down again, god what happens to me? It feels like I'm going to throw up every time she does that. What is happening to me?? “It’s fine, keys can be difficult sometimes.” She smiles at me, fuck I feel like a fool all I can do is just stand there looking at her, I think im having a stroke. No wait, a heart attack, that more likely feels like my heart is eating itself. “Um, thank you Officer.” Why did I say that so weird, god she must think i'm drunk or something.
“Please, my names Vanessa, Vanessa Shelly.” She holds out her hand for me to shake, AND I STARE AT HER HAND FOR LIKE 3 SECONDS BEFORE AWKWARDLY SHAKING HER HAND OH MY GOD. I'm freaking out, is it hot? No, it's cold, why am I sweating?? “Right, uh, y/n, y/n y/ln. It's really nice to meet you.” It's really nice to meet you? Did I really have to put the really, whatever i can't go back in time. “You too, mind if I stick around for a bit?” YES, wait yes what the fuck is happening why do I feel this way? “Yeah no problem.” I say like a fool, I don't usually overthink things like this. Or do I? Have I just not noticed? Huh, whatever. 
The night goes on, and my heart doesn't slow down, the odd feelings in my stomach continue as she talks to me, and asks me a couple questions. It feels like the night goes way too fast, and I find myself upset when it turns to 6am. Driving home all I can think about her, why? I think I just really want to be friends with her, probably, that's all it is. I get home and lay down on my bed staring at the ceiling, maybe this job won't be as bad as I thought it would be. 
The next day Vanessa doesn’t show up, maybe she never will. I also find out how creepy the pizzeria is and even though my life is practically in danger, I just keep wishing that I’d get to see her again, but just as friends though. Just friends. 
I pull into the parking lot of the pizzeria. Walking up in my goofy looking security vest, I sigh. Yesterday I was actually able to unlock the lock, after 10 minutes…but at least I got it. Ugh, time to try to unlock this for half of my shift. And just like I said, it's been 5 minutes and I still can’t get it. “Does it…go the other way or..” I mutter to myself, before I see headlights shining at me. SHES HERE. Oh god I feel like I shoulda put more effort into myself today, does my hair look okay. I zone out thinking about every possible thing that I could ever overthink, before finally getting snapped out of it by her. “Hey, need help with the lock again?” She says teasingly, grinning at me. Woah, my heart just went to the moon and back okay that's normal. “Uh yeah haha, still can’t seem to get it right.” She takes the key from me and just like before, unlocks it with ease, before handing the key back to me. “I'm gonna hang out again today, hope you don’t mind.” “Hah no, I don’t care, I enjoy the company.” Finally I said something without sounding like a 5 year old. 
We both walk into the pizzeria, without saying anything, as we are walking her hand brushes against mine, there it is again, that fuzzy feeling that only happens with her. Maybe I should google my symptoms. “So how's your day been?” She asks me, with a smile. “Oh, pretty good, better now that you're here haha.” I pause, DID I JUST SAY THAT, holy shit oh god what? What was I thinking?? “That's funny, I was going to say the same thing.” She says with a wink, before continuing to walk down the hall. Everything in my head was screaming at me, I had to remember that walking is something that you do if you wanna follow someone. So I started walking again, maybe I should ask her? She's a cop, she might know what's wrong with me.
We go over to the showtime area. “Hey, have you seen them perform yet?” “They perform?” “Yeah watch.” Vanessa presses the showtime button, and the animatronics jump into a song. I watch them with intent, probably the first thing I've thought about that wasn't Vanessa in 3 days. We both walk over to a booth and sit down, just watching and listening to them do their thing. “So this is cool isn’t it?” She asks, looking at me, I look over at her. That feeling again, I swear I'm having a stroke. “Y/N?” Yup this is a stroke why can’t I answer her? “Y-yeah, right, um yeah this is super cool.” I say looking down at the table, smiling and looking back at her. “Are you okay?” Vanessa asks me, looking genuinely worried.
I gulp and look at her nervously. “Um, not really? I don't know.” “You don't know? What do you mean what's going on?’’ She stands up and squats down in front of me, looking up at me. She takes my hands and holds them. I swear my heart just stops at that point. “Hey, talk to me, what's going on?” “Do you um” I clear my throat. “Do you ever get this weird feeling? Lately my heart has been beating faster than normally, and I'm really nervous and anxious and my stomach feels like it's being twisted up.” She looks at me, with those doe eyes of hers, with genuine care and worry. “And the weirdest part of it all, is it only happens around…well…you.” And with that, the worry on her face disappears into a softer one. She laughs and looks back up at me with a smirk. “Y/N have you ever had a crush before?” “A crush? What's that have to do with this, I’ve never had one before but I’ve heard- oh” And it finally clicks, all those movies i’ve seen are like this, a crush, I have a crush on her. Oh shit. I just admitted to her that I have a crush on her. As she watches me come to realization, I feel my face heat up. “Don’t start stressing yourself out, y/n, I like you too.” She says grinning and looking at me sympathetically. I’m still processing all of it, so I don’t really say anything for 10 seconds. “That's good, I um I like you too…a lot.” “Yup, I realized that.” She teasingly smirks at me. “So are we dating now?” I ask genuinely as she laughs again, standing up. “Wow, you really haven’t ever done this before huh? It’s cute, and yeah, we are dating, cmon.” Vanessa holds her hand out for me to take, and finally, it feels right. No more confusion, it feels right, being with her. I’m finally happy. With her :)
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sacredmads · 1 year
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my own success, failure, and everything in between with the law of assumption.
i get so many asks every day wondering why i even began practicing the law of assumption in the first place, and every single time i read one, i can't help but think of how far i've come. i want to tell you guys from the very beginning why i even felt the need to want to start manifesting things into my life, because i really do feel it could help some people. even if this doesn't help you in an LOA sense, i do hope it helps you to know that things will always get better, no matter what things look like right now. you deserve nothing but love and light and happiness, and you will get that, no matter what.
(very small TW!)
i have been through a lot in my life. a LOT. i'll spare you guys the nitty gritty details of it all, don't worry. but to put it lightly, when i found the law of assumption, i was desperate for things in my life to start changing for the better. at the time, which was a year ago now, i was surrounded by bad people, in bad situationships, and had also just gotten diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder due to two extremely ab*sive relationships i was in. i hated my job, i hated how i looked, how i acted, how i talked, the things i was doing, the path i was going down. i longed for so much change.
i saw the law of assumption as my way out. however, my views on the law then are much different than my views on it now. i looked at manifestation as something i had to WORK for. i looked at LOA as a chore. this meant that trying to get my desires became a much more negative than a positive thing for me. i started to hate my life, and myself, even more, because i didn't know what i was doing wrong. every time i'd read a success story, i would feel nothing but envy and jealousy. i wanted to manifest my life being different SO bad that i began to feel as though it was something that i would never accomplish. these thoughts and assumptions buried me even deeper into the pit than i already was, and started a viscous cycle of me hating my life, myself, and starting to form a type of resentment against the law of assumption.
then, towards the end of 2021, the void state blew up on tumblr. i saw the void as my way out - my solution to all of this. (spoiler alert, it wasn't). i tried for MONTHS on end to get into the void. i would spend hours laying in my bed, affirming over and over and over, and getting nothing but angry at myself because yet again, the method wasn't working. more void success stories started coming to tumblr, and every time i'd read one, i'd genuinely feel sick to my stomach. i didn't understand what i wasn't doing right.
towards the beginning of this year i decided to just cut my losses and stop trying to get into the void, and focus on the things i already had, because i thought that was all i had going for me.
i can't remember where it started, but i can say that now, in this very moment, i am the happiest i have ever been.
i have manifested so many things i didn't even dream would be possible for me.
for ONCE in my life, i am so comfortable with my finances. i have financial freedom, and, not to gloat, but MORE than enough money in my bank account.
i have the most AMAZING group of friends... literally shit that feels like it's from a movie. i cannot fathom having any other group around me.
literally manifested an SP that doesn't feel real. fairy tale typa love.
i manifested a job that i love more than words, and not only that, but i manifested getting promoted to manager, and i start training next month.
i've manifested appearance changes as well, and i feel so beautiful in my skin, with AND without makeup, which again.. i didn't think would be possible.
my assumptions about myself, my life, finances, friends, people, relationships, ANYTHING you can think of have all changed for the better. i genuinely feel as though i am limitless and can manifest absolutely anything i desire, and not only that, i feel as though i deserve all of my desires. because i do! a year ago today i was a completely different person than i am now - and i'm so proud to say that i am living a comfortable, happy, and free life.
i know so many people on tumblr and on all platforms that hold an LOA community struggle with so many of the same things i struggled with, and i can promise you that if you truly just focus on what you already know and APPLY, nothing is impossible and nothing will stop you. i have been where you are - i have believed the law of assumption was bullshit at points. but now, i cannot imagine where i'd be if i hadn't started practicing the law. are there things i still want to manifest? absolutely! do i still have small struggles, or bad days? absolutely! the thing is though, i know now that none of that matters. what matters is the things i want - and that's it! there is nothing in this entire world that will stop my desires from coming to me.
when i finally realized that the only person who can stop my desires is ME, is when things finally started changing for the better. i am the only one who will ruin my success and also the only one who can give myself success. i'm choosing to give myself success.
you will get your success, too. you deserve to feel good, and love your life. you deserve to not have stresses or worries. you deserve nothing but all that life has to offer, and i believe you can give that to yourself.
please stop sabotaging your own desires, and stay focused on what you want. you WILL get it. you already have it! do you feel it? do you feel the life you're living right now, with all of your desires? that feeling is what's real. that feeling is what you're experiencing, right now.
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Beast's Valentines Day (Silvio Ricci)
Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.
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The cocoa tart I gave to Silvio on Valentine's Day had the effect of turning any words into words of love.
Silvio: "Cocoa tart for Valentine's Day, huh? Not a bad choice for sweets."
Seated side by side on the sofa, I offered him the plate, and he happily started eating it.
(I'm glad he likes it.)
Silvio: "Delicious. This taste… I can't stop my love for you."
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Silvio: "........."
Emma: "P-Prince Silvio?"
(I feel like I heard something unbelievable just now.)
Silvio: "The sweetness of this treat makes my love for you unstoppable."
Silvio: "........."
He quickly jumped back as his previously cheerful expression suddenly turned into a frown.
Silvio: "Don't suddenly get so close to me! You're too cute. It's bad for my heart."
Emma: "What's wrong? Why are you suddenly saying strange things?"
Silvio: "........."
(His attitude changed after eating the tart.)
Emma: "Could it be that you liked the sweets so much that you can't stop giving compliments?"
Silvio: "........."
Emma: "Thank you. I didn't expect you to be so happy with it."
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Silvio: "........."
Emma: "Hehe, if you're going to make such a scary face just because I hit the mark, I'll take the sweets away."
I reached out to take the plate, but he quickly snatched it.
Emma: "U-Um, Prince Silvio?"
Silvio: "What the hell are you trying to do? There's no way I'd let go of your love!"
Emma: "Uh, love?"
Silvio: "Damn it, what's happening to me?"
Silvio: "I like you so much, I don't know what to do!"
Silvio: "........."
Emma: "Prince Silvio, do you have a fever?"
I reached out to touch his forehead, but he grabbed my hand, causing me to fall to his chest.
His arms, wrapped around my body, were holding me so tightly that I couldn't see anything.
Emma: "Whoa, your body is so warm. Maybe you really have a fever."
Silvio: "Shut up! Ever since I ate your sweets, nothing but sweet words keep coming out of my mouth."
Emma: "Huh?"
Silvio: "It's probably the love you put into your pastries that's making my heart swoon. Wait, what the hell am I saying!?"
(I can't believe something like that could happen, but I have no choice but to believe his current state.)
Emma: "I'm glad it's not because you're sick."
Pushing against his chest and looking up, I saw his face had turned red.
Silvio: "It's not good at all. Whenever I see you, all these cute words keep popping out of my mouth."
Emma: "That's alright. In that case, please go ahead and say more."
Emma: "You're usually shy and don't say those things often, so I'm really happy."
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(I'm getting a little embarrassed myself.)
Silvio: "Your ears are turning red as you say that, you know?"
Emma: "It's just your imagination."
Silvio: "You blushing like that is so cute."
Silvio: "........."
Emma: "Hehe, I really like that side of you."
Silvio: "You're enjoying this, aren't you? That smile of yours is cute, too. Argh, damn it!"
Emma: "It's fun, but I really mean it."
He furrowed his eyebrows deeply and peered into my face as if something had clicked.
Silvio: "If you want me to show you that much affection, there's a better way."
Caught in the gaze of his ocean-blue eyes, I couldn't move as his beautiful face drew closer.
Emma: "Nn…"
Our lips met, and his tongue gently explored the inside of my mouth.
As I melted from within, rendered powerless by the sensation, he swiftly lifted me and pushed me onto the bed.
Silvio: "This is my return gift for the exquisite treat. Accept it quietly."
He removed my clothes and gently caressed my bare skin.
Emma: "Ah…"
His intense gaze and careful touch conveyed his feelings to me.
(Even if it's not being said explicitly, I can still feel how important it is.)
(If that's the case, then I...)
I sat up and wrapped my arms around his neck, then kissed him.
Emma: "I love you."
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Silvio: "I know that, idiot. But my love for you is even greater."
Silvio: "My feelings for you are deeper than the Benitoite Sea."
Silvio said so in a somewhat unintentional manner, then sealed my lips with a kiss.
That Valentine's night, we shared our overflowing love with touches sweeter than words.
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wen-kexing-apologist · 3 months
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10 BL Boys I Want Carnally
I was tagged by @twig-tea, but I do what I want so I'm ignoring the Boys thing (and on at least one occasion the BL thing). Anyway, without further ado, and in no particular order.
Win!Lin- Cupid's Last Wish
LOOPHOLE FIRST!
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gif by @angelbesideme
Thanks to Cupid's Last Wish, Jan is a boy here! So I am choosing Win from Cupid's Last Wish before he body swaps back. HOWEVER, if I'm honest, it was less Win and more masc!Jan that made my brain short circuit so do with that what you will.
Toon- Seneha Stories
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I am breaking from the prompt immediately, but this is my post and I can do what I want, so I am choosing Toon from Seneha Stories, which @so-much-yet-to-learn brought my attention to. Seneha Stories is definitively not a BL, but Toon is hot, kind, sad, and he fucks so I'd be living my best life.
Miw, Neo, Shin, and Mae - 3 Will Be Free
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THIS IS NOT ME SUGGESTING A FOURSOME, THIS IS JUST ME TRYING TO PREVENT FOUR OF THE TEN SPACES FROM BEING 3 WILL BE FREE.
I like it when my fictional women not only are capable of murder, but have, in fact, murdered. Miw and Mae are hot, competent, killers, fucking over evil billionaires so what is not to love?
I am not immune to Neo and his slutty little crop tops. He has three brain cells and they are all that is keeping him from not dying. Iconic to be honest.
I am not immune to Shin and his glasses, and his kindness. I mean, the boy got cut with a knife and not only comforted the kid that wounded him when he started freaking out but dated him.
Mollie - The Warp Effect
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gif by @patpran
MY FIRST NON-BINARY REP IN THAILAND, MY BELOVED. Mollie is so fucking hot, they are talented, they have sick tattoos, they are fighting for themselves, and are changing the landscape of media, what is not to love?
You could also almost certianly put in any of Silvy's characters and I would probably want them carnally, cause...it's Silvy.
(honestly, I'd go for Nim too, but again, not for her character's personality, it's the masc!Jan effect)
Kim- KinnPorsche
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gif by @namchyoon
For this scene and this scene only. Honestly, I think if nothing else this shows you that my type is people who could actually maybe kill me in a fight.
Or at the very least, people I could get in to a homoerotic fight with.
Anyway, Jeff gives me gender envy and the first time I saw this gifset, I thought he was a butch lesbian.
Speaking of homoerotic fights
Phaya and Sand - The Sign
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MENACE! A MENACE I TELL YOU! I truly well and deeply have an appreciation for when someone who (I assume) typically would top absolutely just vibrates out of their skin at the first sign they might be topped.
And I'm adding Sand here as well because I think my jaw dropped like ten feet when I saw her on screen.
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Sand, baby girl, let me know if Yai doesn't treat you right, cause I will.
King- Bed Friend
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gif by @earthfluuke
Shout out to this man, I've seen him on at least three of these lists. But who could blame us? Look at him.
Choy Yu Na- Semantic Error
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She did that bisexual sit and my heart was hers.
And for my last two picks, I certainly am asking myself the question, do I want them carnally or do I just want them?
Mork -My Ride
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Helloooooooo Mr. Dimples. I mean....I feel like I don't need to explain myself here. We all get it, right? We understand, right? And besides, he gives rides for a living or something...
Minoru- Our Dining Table
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HE'S JUST SO NICE, SO KIND, SO TIRED. @isaksbestpillow is so right, he is a mother. I love him.
Tagging @so-much-yet-to-learn, @solitaryandwandering, @respectthepetty and anyone else who sees this and wants to join!
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skyeet-the-writer · 2 months
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The One with George Stephanopoulos
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this chapter made me want pizza and alcohol okay bye chandler bing x female!reader summary: its been a few months since you moved to the city and you're settling in pretty well with your new group of friends word count: ~4.5k warnings: mentions of black mold, alcohol, a little snooping, but its harmless fun <previous next>
"What would you guys do if you were omnipotent?" you ask suddenly during a quiet afternoon in the cafe.
"Probably make myself immortal," Monica says, looking up from her crossword. "And be able to time-travel, I've always wanted to do that as a kid."
"Ooh, time travel would be sick," you say. "I'd want to immediately know how to play the bass."
"Oh, that's good, that's good." Rachel smiles, handing you your latte.
"What about you, Phoebe?" you ask the woman sitting on the floor.
"I would want, um, world peace. No more hunger. Good things for the rainforest." She grins before quickly adding, "Oh, and bigger boobs!"
"Well, see, you took mine," Ross says. You giggle, holding your warm mug and leaning back into the couch next to Chandler, who quickly removes his arm from behind the couch. "Chandler, what about you?"
Chandler shrugs. "If I were omnipotent for a day, I'd make myself omnipotent forever."
You scoff and roll your eyes. "Lame."
Rachel also tches. "See, there's always that one guy. 'If I had a wish, I'd wish for three more wishes.'"
You laugh again and turn as the door opens. Joey walks in and you hit him with your burning question. "Joey! Joey, what would you do if you were omnipotent for a day?"
He blinks at your question and answers, "Probably kill myself."
Your eyes widen and you breathe out a laugh. "Sorry?"
"Hey," he starts as he takes a seat beside Ross. "If little Joey's dead, then I've got no reason to live."
You shake your head and take a sip of your drink.
"Uh, Joey." Ross's first mistake was to try and help. "Omnipotent."
Joey's eyes widen and in the most sympathetic voice you've ever heard him use, he says, "You are?"
You choke on your drink, laughing into your mug and almost spilling coffee on yourself. Chandler places a hand on your back while Phoebe hands you a napkin, taking your drink from you. You laugh again, wiping your face, and look at Joey.
"Dude, you're so funny. Do you know that?"
Joey smiles and shrugs. "People say that I am."
You clear your throat and lean back in your seat again. Chandler has an arm across the back of the couch again, but this time he doesn't move it, something everyone but you catches on to.
His arm doesn't move for the next thirty minutes either. Eventually, you notice but think nothing of it. Ross does it with Phoebe and there's certainly nothing there. Your newfound friend group talks about nothing and everything at once as the afternoon grows later. After a while, you glance at your watch and realize you need to head out, even though you don't want to.
With a groan, you sit up. "I've got to head out."
"Why?" Monica wonders.
You sniff and start to get your things together in your tote bag. "My window is leaking in my bathroom and kitchen, so my super is going to check it out. Also, there's this weird substance on my windowsills that looks like dirt, but I swear to god if it's black mold I'm going to kill someone."
"Well, good luck," Chandler says, watching you take out your walkman and put the headphones around your neck.
"I'll be back in an hour or so," you tell them and start your mixtape. "See you guys later."
And then you head out. Chandler watches you through the window--which isn't creepy because it's so big. He watches you take out your lighter and light a cigarette before walking on your way. For someone who moved to the city a few months ago, you already seem very much at home.
The second the door closes, Joey moves to sit by Chandler and says, "Chan. If you don't ask her out, I'm going to."
"Yeah, why haven't you asked her yet?" Monica asks. "With the way your arm was behind her for an hour, someone would assume you guys are dating."
Chandler scoffs and shrugs, feeling his neck heat up. "I--I don't know. I think she's too cool for me."
"She's too cool for all of us," Ross says.
"I think she's into you." Phoebe pokes his leg and smiles. "She's always around you."
"Yeah, because I was the first person she met here and she's my friend."
"So? I think you'd have a shot." Phoebe tells him. "Her aura is brighter around you."
Chandler isn't sure what that means, but he shrugs anyway. "I--I don't know. I really think she's cool, I don't want to mess this friendship up."
His friends nod in understanding but Joey asks, "So, does this mean I can ask her on a date?"
"No!" he blurts out, perhaps too loudly because someone at a neighboring table turns to glare at him for a moment.
"Woah, okay, man." Joey holds his hands up in surrender. "I know now to mess with your girl."
Heat rushes to Chandler's cheeks and he huffs, feeling very uncomfortable. "Whatever."
~*~
An hour and a half later, you return to the coffee shop pissed out of your mind. You angrily open the door and let it slam shut behind you. Monica, Phoebe, and Ross are still here and all look at you when you approach. You're frowning, something they've never seen you do before, and your head looks like it's about to explode.
"Woah, what's up?" Monica asks as you dramatically sit between Ross and Phoebe. "You look pissed."
"Because I am," you snap, shedding your jacket. "There's black fucking mold in my apartment."
"Oh, gross!"
"No, it gets better," you add, looking between your friends while your heart thumps rapidly in your throat. "It's not just my apartment. It's the entire goddamn floor."
"Oh no!"
"That's awful."
Phoebe puts her arm around you and you lean into your side, feeling yourself calm down quickly as her scent of patchouli envelops you. "I asked how long it would take them to fix it, but the super said I had to move out for a week."
"For a week?" Monica asks.
You nod. "Yeah. I hate to ask, but could I maybe stay with you and Rachel? I'll chip in with food and stuff."
Monica smiles and says, "Yeah, of course. Phoebe was actually going to be spending the night too, we can have a girls' night."
"Oh, that's fun!" Phoebe exclaims, smiling.
You grin and feel your anger slip away. You're lucky to have these people as your friends. "Thanks."
~*~
Later that night, you're making drinks with Phoebe and Monica while dressed in your pajamas. You went to your apartment to pack your things and you're glad you did your laundry yesterday.
Rachel is out with her friends and you want to assume they're nice, but they give you snooty rich-girl vibes. Plus their screaming only made you more angry than you were before, but now that you've taken two shots of rum, you feel a little better.
You fire up the blender again on your famous Tiki Death Punch--which is really just a strawberry and pineapple daiquiri--while Phoebe gets the glasses out and the door opens.
"Hey, Rach," Monica greets, finishing up the cookie dough. "How was it with your friends?"
And then, in unison, you, Phoebe, and Monica scream, mocking what Rachel and her friends did. You giggle and take off the lid to analyze your work before unplugging the blender and moving toward the glasses. But when you look back up, Rachel does not look amused and you hiss through your teeth. "Anyway, you want some Tiki Death Punch?"
"What's that?" Rachel asks, sounding exhausted.
You finish pouring the third glass and answer, "Well, it's rum and--"
Rachel doesn't even let you finish before she's taken the pitcher from your hands and is sticking a straw through the liquid.
You blink at your empty hands. "Okay."
"We thought that Phoebe was staying over and Y/N is staying here for the week, we'd have kinda like a slumber party thing. We've got trashy magazines, we've got cookie dough, we got Twister."
"I brought Monopoly and Balderdash," you add, glancing at the phone as it rings.
"And I brought Operation," Phoebe says, walking towards Rachel, who looks miserable. "But, um, I lost the tweezers so we can't operate. But we can prep the guy!"
You smile at her enthusiasm.
With the phone in her hand, Monica walks towards Rachel and says, "Uh, Rach, it's the Visa card people."
She groans and rolls her eyes. "Oh, God, ask them what they want."
"Could you please tell me what this is in reference to?" Monica asks into the phone before lowering it down and addressing Rachel. "Um, they say there's been some unusual activity on your account."
"But I haven't used my card in weeks," Rachel says, sounding even more exasperated now.
"That is the unusual activity." Rachel stands and pinches the bridge of her nose as Monica adds, "Look, they just want to see if you're okay."
"They want to know if I'm okay? Okay, they want to know if I'm okay. Okay, let's see." Slowly, you take a sip each time she says okay. "Well, let's see, the FICA guys took all my money. Everyone I know is either getting married or getting pregnant or getting promoted and I'm getting coffee. And it's not even for me! So if that sounds like I'm okay, okay, then you can tell them I'm okay. Okay?"
You swallow your last sip and see that half of your drink is gone.
Monica slowly licks her lips and lifts the phone to her ear. "Uh, Rachel has left the building. Can you call back?"
"Alright, come on!" With her voice breaking and tears in her eyes, Rachel unfurls the game mat and says, "Let's play Twister."
"Oh, Rachel!" You walk over to her and lead her to the couch as she wipes her tears. "Come on, babe, it's okay, you're fine."
"No, I'm not!" she exclaims, sniffling. "Everyone I know is being more productive than I am."
Monica sits on the other side of her and rubs her arm. "Oh, come on. You should feel great about yourself. You're doing this amazing and independent thing!"
But she just rolls her eyes and asks, "Monica, what is so amazing? I gave up, like, everything! And for what?"
"You are just like Jack!" Phoebe exclaims from her spot on the table.
Looking at her, you squint. "Pheebs, I'm a little tipsy, but what are you talking about?"
"Jack from 'Jack and the Beanstalk'," she answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "See, he gave up something, but then he got those magic beans. And then he woke up and there was this--this big plant outside of his window full of possibilities and stuff. And he lived in a village and you live in the village."
Rachel holds up a hand to stop her. "Okay, but, Pheebs, Pheebs. Jack gave up a cow. I gave up an orthodontist. Okay? I--I know I didn't love him, but--"
"Oh, see, Jack did love the cow."
You sigh and take another long sip of your drink.
"But, see, it was a plan," Rachel continues. "You know? It was clear. Everything was figured out and now everything's just kinda like..."
She flails her hands around, searching for the word, and you suggest, "Floopy?"
"Yeah."
You put your hands back on her arm and say, "I've been there."
"Really?" she asks, looking at you.
You nod. "Yeah, I'm there right now. I mean, I want to be a famous screenwriter and probably a director. But I live in a shitty apartment with black mold and I work as a hostess." You laugh at yourself and continue. "I live, like, three thousand kilometers away from home in a whole new country. I was supposed to go to school for nursing because my mom and my dad are both doctors, but I changed my major halfway through and moved here." You smile at her and rub up and down her arm. "And I'm happy I did because I met you guys. And, sure, I kind of hate my job and I don't have any time to write and I pour oil down my drains to fuck with my landlord. But I'm doing my own thing, doing what I like. Not what everyone else is doing. Does that make sense?"
Rachel shrugs, but then she nods.
Monica puts a hand on her shoulder. "Yeah. I mean, you've just gotta figure at some point it's all gonna come together, and it's just gonna be...un-floopy."
But then Rachel sighs and says, "Okay, but, Monica, what if--what if it doesn't come together?"
Monica rocks back and forth, searching for an answer, before quietly saying, "Pheebs?"
Phoebe puts her drink down and starts, "Well, 'cause you just like...I don't like this question. Y/N?"
You think about this question every night in bed, but you don't have an answer. And so you look around, muttering things under your breath so the heat will be off you.
"Okay, see, see you guys? What if we don't get magic beans? I mean, what if all we've got are...beans?"
Yeah, that's a thought that crosses your mind in the middle of the night too. And so you loudly slurp up the rest of your drink and pick up the pitcher. "I need more rum."
~*~
An hour and two pitchers of Tiki Death Punch later, you're all sitting in various positions in the living room. Phoebe is lying on the floor with her head on the ottoman and her hair over her face. Monica is eating cookie dough right out of the bowl with the wooden spoon. Rachel is lying across the couch with her legs in your lap. You're on your third drink and you're not even sure you can finish that. God, you're depressed, you really should get in touch with a pharmacist to get back on Prozac, but that's a hassle with the American healthcare system. Why can't it just be free like the rest of the world?
Rachel, who is changed into much comfier clothes, sighs and says, "I'm sorry, guys, I didn't mean to bring you down."
"No, you were right," Monica says, smushing the dough. "I don't have a plan!"
There's a knock at the door and that's the first time you've felt happy in forty-five minutes. "Thank Christ, food."
Rachel gets up to get the pizza and Monica says, "Phoebe?"
"Huh?" She flips her ponytail out from her face.
"Do you have a plan?"
She scoffs and says, "I don't even have a pla'."
Rachel swings the door open and a young teenage kid is standing there with pizzas. "Hi. One mushroom, green pepper, and onion?"
You almost burst into tears right then and there.
Rachel sighs. "No, no, no that's not what we ordered! We ordered a fat-free crust with extra cheese!" She also sounds like she's about to cry and lifts her fingers to her temple.
"Wait, you're not G. Stephanopoulos?"
"No."
"Oh, man, my dad's gonna kill me!"
Suddenly, Monica jumps across your legs and you almost piss yourself. Slowly, you and Phoebe follow as she asks the teenager, "Did you say G. Stephanopoulos?"
He nods. "Yeah, yeah, this one goes across the street. I must've given him yours. Oh, bonehead, bonehead." To be honest, him hitting himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand does make you smile a little.
"Wait, was this a--a small Mediterranean guy with curiously intelligent good looks?"
The kid nods. "Yeah, sounds about right."
"Was he wearing a stunning blue suit?"
"A--and a power tie?" Phoebe adds.
The kid shakes his head. "Nah, pretty much just a towel."
Monica's mouth drops and she leans on Phoebe for support like she's swooning. "Oh, god."
"So do you guys want me to take this back?" the poor kid asks.
"What? Are you nuts?" Monica seizes the pizza from his hand. "We've got George Stephanopoulos' pizza!"
While Rachel pays the kid, Monica rushes to the window and grabs the binoculars.
"Who is George Stephanopoulos?" you ask Phoebe.
But before she can answer, Monica shouts out, "I see pizza!"
Phoebe runs over to look, but you and Rachel stay by the pizza. You open it and almost start to salivate. You haven't eaten since lunch and you've been craving pizza all week.
"Who are we spying on?" Rachel wonders.
"You know the White House Advisor? Clinton's campaign guy, uh, the one with the great hair, sexy smile, and really cute butt?"
You laugh at her description and eat a piece of bell pepper. "No, but I wish I did."
Rachel nods. "Oh, yeah, the little guy! Oh, I love him!"
Together, you each take a piece of pizza and walk over to the window as Phoebe says, "Ooh, wait, I see a woman."
"Oh, please tell me it's his mother," Monica says.
You squint to try to see where she's looking, but it's too dark for you to see much.
And then Phoebe says, "It's definitely not his mother."
"Oh no."
"Oh, wait, she walking across the floor. She's walking, she's walking, she's going for the pizza." Angrily, Phoebe shouts out, "Hey, that's not for you, bitch!" Quickly, she covers her mouth and the four of you giggle. Rachel hands Monica her piece of pizza and you bite into your own.
Yeah, you don't need Prozac anymore, not if you have pizza and the girls.
~*~
A little while later, you're all out on the balcony. You're full of pizza and alcohol, but you're drinking water now. It's cold outside and there's a blanket over the metal chair you're sitting on and you're wearing the red sweatshirt Chandler gave to you a couple of weeks ago when you said you were cold. You forgot to give it back and maybe if you wear it you'll remember.
Monica comes back in with another pitcher of Death Punch and by now you're sure you've used up all your rum. But it's okay because you're having fun spying on his American politician with your friends.
"Are the lights still out?" Monica asks, climbing through the window.
"Yeah," Rachel says, binoculars still glued to her eyes.
"Well, maybe they're napping."
You scoff, straw halfway in your mouth. "Please, they're having sex, Mon."
"Shut up!" Monica and Phoebe shout at the same time.
You laugh, leaning your head back.
Everyone gets their drinks and sits back down when Rachel asks, "So what do you think George is like?"
"I think he's shy," Monica answers.
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah. I think you have to draw him out. And then...when you do, he's a preppy animal."
You all giggle and you feel like a schoolgirl again. You swat at her while she laughs and you laugh and so do Phoebe and Rachel.
Another half-hour later, you're all laughing and telling each other lies that you've told other people.
"Okay, okay I got one," Monica says and looks at Phoebe. "Do you remember that vegetarian pâté that I made that you loved so much?"
The vegetarian nods.
Monica snickers. "Well, unless goose is a vegetable!"
You and Rachel laugh while Phoebe screws her face up in disgust.
"Okay, fine, fine. Now I don't feel so bad about sleeping with Jason Hurley."
You sip on your water, having no idea who that is, but enjoying the way Monica's eyes widen. "What? You slept with Jason?"
"You were already broken up."
"How long?"
Phoebe shrugs. "Just a couple hours."
You laugh while Monica rolls her eyes.
Giggling, Rachel sits up. "Okay, okay, I got one." But since the pillow is leaning on the side of the wall, when she sits up, it falls to the balcony below. You smile as she continues. "Anyway. The Valentine Tommy Rollerson left in your locker was really from me!"
Monica looks at her friend. "Excuse me?"
Rachel returns to her original position. "Oh, hello? Like he was really gonna send you one." Monica rolls her eyes and Rachel adds, "She was a big girl."
You gasp and laugh.
"Well, at least big girls don't pee their pants in the seventh grade," she retaliates, leaning toward you and Phoebe.
Rachel gasps, "I was laughing! You made me laugh!"
As the two girls argue, movement catches your eye and you look across the street to where George lives and gasp, standing up. "Look, there he is!"
"Where?"
You blink, pointing at his huge windows. "Right where we've been looking all night."
Together, the four of you watch this man stand only clad in a towel. If you were sober, you'd feel bad.
"Oh, he's so cute," Rachel says.
"George, baby, drop the towel!" Monica exclaims.
In unison, you all chant "Drop the towel" and you're pretty sure he can hear you. Because then he does. And you gasp and all say, "Wow."
Heat rushes to your cheeks and you look away, giggling. "Okay, I don't know if Clinton is a good president, but I'll vote for him if that's his campaign manager."
The girls giggle and go back to their seats before you all can be arrested for spying.
"I have a question, Y/N," Rachel says, hopping back up on the ledge.
"What's up?"
"Are you interested in anyone right now?"
You raise a brow at the sudden question. "Well, now I'm interested in George Stephanopoulos."
Rachel rolls her eyes but smiles. "I can understand that."
Shrugging, you stir your water with your straw. "I mean, not really. I moved here a few months ago. I've been trying to figure my way around the city, I guess I haven't had much time to look at anyone like that."
"Then why are you wearing Chandler's sweatshirt?" Phoebe asks, smiling as she takes a sip of her drink.
You look down at the piece of fabric and rub it between your fingers. It's soft and thick and it reminds you of him. "He lent it to me the other week. I just...forgot to give it back."
"Okay," Phoebe says with a breathy laugh like she doesn't believe you.
You look at your friends and see that they all have the same expression--they suspect something. "W--what? No, it's not like that!"
"We didn't say anything," Monica assures you.
"You didn't have to." You take another gulp of your drink and feel some heat creep up your cheeks. "I don't know. He's my friend and I think he's cute, but I'm not looking for a relationship right now, you know?"
"Yeah, I do," Rachel agrees and you hear the truth in her voice. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay," you tell them. "I mean. Chandler is funny and he's really sweet, but, like, mentally I'm not ready." Something dawns on you and you grab Monica's arm with wide eyes. "Does he have a thing for me?"
"No," she answers easily. "No, have you met Chandler? He's the most socially awkward person I've met."
Slowly, you nod, staring down at your drink. "Okay, okay. Cool. 'Cause I don't want to make things awkward." And then you're quiet, still staring at your drink, before you put it on the small, dingy table and stand up. "I'm going to use the bathroom."
"Are you okay?" Phoebe asks as you wobble over to the window.
"Yeah," you answer, slowly folding yourself to go through it. Your vision is swimming a little. "I'm just drunk."
"We all are," Rachel says and watches as you go back into the apartment. When the door closes, she leans close to her friends and says, "No one tell Chandler."
Monica places a hand on her heart. "No, for sure. She's totally justified, though, I wouldn't want to date someone directly after moving to another country."
Phoebe nods. "Besides, Chandler is a big boy, he can figure out his own feelings." But then she adds after a moment, "Well, maybe not, but that's his problem."
Rachel and Monica chuckle and go back to spying on Stephanopoulos.
~*~
Later, the boys come back from their hockey game. Before you can ask who won, you see Ross wearing a brace over his nose. Chandler tells you that he was hit in the face with a puck and ended up having to go to the emergency room for a broken nose.
But Ross seems in happier spirits than he was before and that you're grateful for.
Eventually, Phoebe, Joey, Monica, and Rachel are playing a game of Twister while Ross flicks the spinner. You're making some more drinks with the remaining rum for the boys to have, figuring they need it after their night.
"What's the legal drinking age in Canada?" Chandler asks, watching you pour the last of your rum into the blender before placing the empty bottle to the side.
"Eighteen," you answer, measuring the sugar with your heart. "Well, actually, it's eighteen in Manitoba, Québec, and Alberta. Everywhere else it's nineteen."
Chandler breathes out a laugh. "It's twenty-one here."
"Can't men be drafted into war when they're eighteen?"
He nods. "Yeah. It's messed up."
You hum and fire the blender up, keeping an elbow on it and closing your eyes. You've had a long day. You're still mad about your apartment and having to squat at Monica and Rachel's for a week. You know they don't mind, but you still feel bad. You'll cook them dinner a few times, that'll be nice. You would clean, but Monica is very particular about it so you figure it's best to leave it be.
Opening your eyes again, you turn the blender off and serve it up, giving one to Chandler first. You clink your glass of water with his and giggle as he smiles. You both take a sip at the same time when Chandler suddenly takes your wrist and holds your arm up.
"This sweatshirt is familiar," he says, teasing evident in his tone.
You smile and shrug. "Some guy gave it to me."
"Is that guy going to get it back?"
You shrug again. "Eventually."
Chandler tilts his head then and says, "You keep it."
"What?" you ask in disbelief. "No, Chandler, it's yours."
He shrugs, resisting the extremely strong urge to run his hand up and down your arm. "It looks better on you."
You scoff. "It does not."
He nods, smiling. "It does." His eyes trail up your figure before landing on your face. "It makes your eyes pop."
"It makes my eyes pop?"
"Yeah."
Smiling just a little, you pull the sleeves over your hands. "Thank you, Chan."
And as you walk away to give Ross his drink, Chandler breathes. He's not entirely sure how he feels about you. You're hot, you're cool, but you're also his friend. And he just basically said your eyes are pretty.
He takes a long drink of your concoction, something called Tiki Death Punch, and pours himself some more. As if that will do anything to calm his nerves. Nothing can calm his nerves when he's with you.
62 notes · View notes
pixelatedraindrops · 1 month
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Hello everyone!! Today I grow a year older :3 (and I hate it lmao) FEEL FREE TO REPLY BIRTHDAY WISHES IF YOU WANT :3
So, over the time I've come back here, I've become pretty confident and proud of my once hidden passion about sick characters, sickfics and sick comfort/whump... 🌡️
And you all have been so supportive and sweet despite my weirdness so I thank you for that. You helped me feel more confident in my otherwise weird fixation <3 So, for my birthday I thought I'd try and make up a little drawing challenge for anyone who wants to give it a try... There are soo many talented artists on this site (and in this fandom)
So... It's your turn to target your faves now. You will see how fun it is and hopefully understand why I love doing it so much. 😈🌡️
(plus it's my birthday and I require some sustenance LMAO JKJK)
But yeah anyone can join in. This is just for fun though! You don't have to if you don't want to! I think its okay to ask for some food on my birthday though...right?? X'D So if you wanna do sth for my birthday...then... 👉👈 💦
CHALLENGE BELOW~
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DRAW YOUR FAVE ON A SICK DAY CHALLENGE🌡️😷🥵🤧
~~~~
(Mmmmkay, I am lying to myself when I say this isn't mostly aimed at the RainCode community... X'D Can't help myself. But anyone can join regardless of the fandom!!)
So here's the challenge and the rules!! (featuring my two main lil targets ofc :3)
Regardless of who it is, put your fave through some sickness hell >:3c I'd love to see it! Make em' as miserable as you want!
destroy them 😈 jkjk XD
If you're in the RainCode community you can target anyone, but as you know, my main targets are Yuma and Makoto. If they're also your faves and who you decide to use, that will make me extra happy!
Some tips for anyone new to drawing a sick day scenario art. A few things that make it look convincing are the following:
Pajamas or Loungewear
Messy Bed Hair
Fever flushed face w sweat or at least a red nose
Tired Eye bags
Shivery body
Ice Pack or a Compress on the head
Thermometer sticking from their mouth
LOTS OF BLANKETS
Tissues or medicine surrounding them
Tea or Soup (or both)
Those are just to name some from the top of my head. If you'd like some pointers on how to make a character look ill, check out my Fever Coloring Guide. This is for digital artists but traditional artists can try it too!
You can add injury or angst to the scene but I'd like illness to be the main focus of it.
The scene can be anything you want to, it can be fluffy and wholesome (with a caretaker) it can be angsty, or it can be silly. Its all up to you! Do it for the sake of fluff! Caretaking scenes are the best for any kind of relationship >w<
Either way, have fun with it!! I look forward to see what people make if they decide to give it a try! It doesn't even have to be a full on picture! Doodles and sketches are fine too! Just show me something >w<
(feel free to tag me and say happy b-day and mention my challenge, I am proud to be known for this and would love for many to participate :3) I wanna see you take a go at it :3 Show me your style! :D
~
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~~~
(wow look at me misspelling the word writing on text when I did it fine with my own hands lol)
Now, I know not everyone can draw...
Well never fear! I accept writing as well! ✍️✍️✍️
(hi vivia lol sorry for giving you a cold, at least you have an excuse to read and do nothing now haha x3)
Sickfics are one of the biggest things I live for! Any little drabbles or full fics with more than one chapter are welcome! Again target who you want any fandom you want, but I'll def be super happy if you make a RainCode fic. And even happier if you target my faves as well, but again, anything will do! Just make a cute story about your fave being miserable and being tended to! Trust me, it's super fun!
You can add injury or angst to the scene but I'd like illness to be the main focus of it.
Feel free to post your writing here and tag me or mention my AO3!
If you need a start to your fic, look on my blog for illness prompts! Maybe it can help give you a good start or give some inspiration! (thats why I share 'em :3)
I look forward to anything you try to write!
~
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That's about all!! I hope you decide to participate! ✨
Good luck, have fun, and godspeed you future whumpers! 😈
(nah jk XD)
AGAIN THIS IS FOR FUN! NO PRRSSURE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO!
44 notes · View notes
madiomens · 6 months
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Hi! I actually have a request! Can we have noahx reader who is a musician asking him to produce her music? You can choose between fluff or smut buf I'd like to read about a relationship!
Hi! I actually really enjoyed writing this <3
You get fluff AND smut ;) It's long as hell but I hope you enjoy!
Thank you for requesting!
(I've never written anything using Y/N because I try to avoid it, but it is used once or twice in this since it was unavoidable. So don't hate me for it plz <;3)
Warnings: pure filth
Produce Me
I am not ok.
I am not fucking ok.
My friend's birthday was last night, and we all got entirely too wasted. And my drunken ass DM'd none other than Noah Sebastian, of THE Bad Omens, to produce my music. I gave a stupid, misspelled blurb about how I am a struggling rock artist who needed someone to take a chance on. Topping it off, I attached a voice note of one of my song recordings I had made in my makeshift studio in my house.
And he FUCKING REPLIED.
My hands shook as I stared at my phone in shock.
"Hey! I actually think your sound is sick and I would love to meet with you to talk more about you and your music. What if we met at the studio today? Say around 4?"
This can't be real life. I must still be drunk, right? Gotta be.
I blinked my eyes a few times and pinched myself to ensure I was in fact sober and that this was real life before typing back a message.
"Hey there! 4 sounds great. What studio?" I typed back, throwing my phone and covering my eyes as if it would erase what was currently happening.
A few moments went by before my phone buzzed and I was throwing myself across the couch to grab it. He attached the address along with a 'Can't wait' that sent me into a whole screaming fit. I looked at the time on my phone, which read 1:30 PM and I scrambled to my feet to find my belongings so I could rush home to get ready. I stumbled over the sleeping bodies spread out around the floor, gathering my things and rushing out the door.
I sent a quick text to my friend explaining what was going on before getting in my car and zooming to my house. Once inside, I took the quickest shower of my life before applying some light makeup and throwing on a pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie. It took everything in me not to throw on a Bad Omens hoodie, but I decided that would look like I was trying too hard. I grabbed my flash drive with my songs I've made and a croissant along with a water bottle from my fridge before flying out my front door. I slid in my car and gripped the steering wheel, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath to try and calm my nerves
He's just a regular guy helping a regular girl get her music produced.
He's not an extremely successful rockstar who I've had the fattest crush on for forever.
Totally normal.
It was a short drive to the studio, and before I knew it I was pulling up with 10 minutes to spare. I took another deep breath before climbing out of my car and heading inside the building. I ran my fingers through my still slightly wet waves before walking through the door, eyes instantly landing on the lanky man sitting on the couch across the room. He had his hood up over his head and was scrolling on his phone, sunk lazily down in the couch.
I tried to calm the pounding in my chest at the sight of him, taking a few moments in the doorway to mentally prepare before walking towards him.
"Noah?" I questioned as I got closer.
His head popped up and a grin slid onto his face as he pushed off the couch, putting his phone into his pocket.
"You must be Y/N." He said, extending his hand to me.
I nodded with a smile. "I am, nice to meet you." I said as I shook his hand, mine much smaller than his and feeling like a toddler's hand.
"Nice to meet you. I'm really excited to work with you. You have a sick voice." He said as he dropped my hand, grin still on his face.
My smile widened. "You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you."
"'Course. Follow me." He said, nodding his head in the direction of a hallway.
I followed behind him down the corridor, walking into the room at the end of it. He shut the door firmly behind us and gestured to a chair at the large soundboard in the center of the room. I took a seat and he followed, scooting the chair so that his knee rested against mine.
"So," He started, messing with a few buttons in front of us. "I already set up the audio clip you sent me to play over the speakers so we can get a deeper listen. I won't lie, I already played it once and it sounds even sicker in here."
I grinned at him. "Let's hear it."
He pressed play and the sound of my voice rang out around us, my raspy tones more enhanced by the sound system set up. I looked at him in awe as I listened, Noah meeting my eyes with a wide grin.
"See?" He questioned as the clip finished.
"Holy shit." I said through a chuckle.
He nodded and rubbed his hands together. "Please tell me you have more for me."
I opened my purse and pulled out the flash drive I brought, placing it in the palm of his hand. "There's three finished songs on this. I recorded them in my makeshift studio, so they definitely don't have the production quality you're probably used to." I said, all of a sudden getting shy about my work.
He shook his head and gave my arm a light comforting squeeze. "If you knew where I started you wouldn't be saying that." He said with a chuckle.
"Trust me, I've heard it all." I wanted to say but bit my tongue, settling on a chuckle of my own.
The next hour was spent with Noah playing the songs I provided and praising them, making comments about little tweaks and twists he would do to them. He played with the sound board some to add in his vision, blowing my mind with how his own mind works. It came so effortlessly to him. He could imagine something and make it come to life with the twist of a few knobs and pressing a few buttons.
By the end of the session, it was pushing 10 PM and I was officially fully comfortable with him. We had a balance of joking around along with working on my music, making the whole process so much easier. At one point he had pressed record while I laughed at a joke he made and insisted I put it in one of my songs.
"If you don't, I'm going to. I might still do it anyways." He said with a chuckle.
That was quite hard to contain my excitement over.
We agreed to meet at the studio most days for the next couple of weeks to fully work on what I have created already and to create all the songs I had written in my home studio.
Every day that we met, Noah surprised me with different mixes he had worked on his own time at his house. He was extremely flexible with my work hours, always down to meet at the studio whatever time I got off work.
"Do you ever sleep?" I asked with a laugh when I walked into the studio at 8:30 PM a week later, coffee in hand for both of us.
He turned to look at me, stubble starting to form on his face, and letting out a laugh of his own. "Not when I'm inspired."
I shook my head at him and took my seat by his side, sliding the coffee across the table. He sighed and hugged the coffee to his chest. "You are an angel. Thank you."
I smiled and took a sip of my own coffee. "The least I can do."
He wrapped his arm around my shoulders in a side hug, causing me to rest my head on his shoulder to return it. The scent of his cologne filled my senses and sent a jolt of electricity through me. I blinked myself out of the trance as he broke the hug, clearing my throat and turning to face him.
"What have you created now?" I questioned, trying to calm the butterflies.
"You're gonna fucking love it." He said, excitement on his features as he pressed play.
It was my favorite song that we've recorded in the past week, but something was different about it. I listened closer for a few moments before gasping and smacking him in the arm.
"That's your voice!" I exclaimed as he laughed at me.
He turned down the song, letting it play quietly in the background. "You talked about wanting it to have background vocals that weren't your own so I thought I'd add some in to see how it sounds. You like?" He questioned, crooked grin on his face.
"Do I like it?" I questioned. "I fucking love it!"
He grinned and bit his bottom lip as if to stifle the size of his smile. "I hoped you would."
"Can I keep them on the song?" I questioned, poking my bottom lip out.
He chuckled and shook his head, pinching my bottom lip I had poked out. "I can't say no to that face."
I clapped, giddiness filling me up. "Noah Sebastian, you are fucking amazing."
"I'm alright, nothing amazing." He said as the song came to an end, looking away from me.
I could swear a blush creeped up his cheeks as he pulled his hood further around his face, hiding the color from me.
"No, I'm serious." I said, squeezing his arm so he would meet my eyes again. His cheeks were still a light shade of pink once he faced me again, a sparkle in his eyes and shy smile on his face. "You're amazing." I said more firmly, staring into his eyes.
He brought his hand up to squeeze mine that was still on his arm. "Thank you, Y/N. That means a lot."
I nodded. "Of course. It's true."
His eyes searched mine, hand still on top of my own and neither of us daring to break contact. My heart leapt into my throat as he slowly started to lean in, eyes darting between my lips and back up to my eyes as if asking permission.
"We shouldn't." I whispered, own eyes darting down to his lips.
He slightly shook his head. "We shouldn't." He whispered back.
"I don't want to ruin the working relationship we have." I whispered again, voice even softer as my common sense slowly started to chip away the more his scent wrapped around me.
"I don't want that either." He whispered, a huskiness taking over his voice and sending shivers down my spine.
He paused right in front of my face, lips barely ghosting against mine as we stared into each other's eyes. Our breathing sped up and mingled together, the air around us thick with tension as neither of us dared to make the move but both wanting so badly to do so.
We stared into each other's eyes a few more moments before he spoke up. "Fuck it."
He pressed his lips against mine, pulling my wheeled chair closer to him so that his knees were on either side of mine. Butterflies exploded throughout my body as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, his own snaking around my waist. I pressed my body flush against his as I opened my mouth to let his tongue tangle with mine, the taste of him filling my taste buds and causing my core to throb. I stood up so that I could straddle him in his chair, my lips never leaving his. He brought a hand up to grip the hair at the nape of my neck and causing me to moan into our kiss at the feeling. I pushed the hood off his head so that I could tangle my fingers through his hair, lightly pulling and causing his own moan to escape him.
I pulled back breathlessly, placing my hands on his cheeks. "What are we doing?" I questioned.
He shook his head, lips swollen. "I don't know. But I don't want to stop."
"God, me either." I said before slamming my lips back onto his.
He picked us up, causing me to tightly wrap my legs around his waist as he carried us to the leather couch on the back wall of the room. He sat down so that I was straddling him, his hands resting on my ass and giving it a squeeze. I ground my hips into his, the feeling of his growing erection sending a shockwave through my core. He let out a deep moan as I did this, moving my ass so that I did it again. He brought a hand to the front of my leggings and slipped it underneath the waistband, landing on my bare clit as I decided to forego panties today. I gasped against his lips, breaking the kiss so that our lips were brushing against each other's.
"Is this ok?" He questioned breathlessly, finger resting on my clit.
I nodded, eyes meeting his as my mouth hung open. "More than ok." I breathed out.
His finger started to circle my clit, causing my eyes to close as my head dropped backwards. A moan escaped me while his finger magically worked on me, easily sliding throughout my arousal.
"God, you're so wet." He breathed out huskily, placing a trail of hot kisses down my neck.
I circled my hips against his finger, the pit in my stomach growing faster than I'd ever experienced before. I tangled my hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling tightly. I began to loosen my grip in worry that I was hurting him but paused when a moan escaped him when I pulled tightly. My moans got louder and I smacked a hand over my mouth to muffle them, worrying anyone else in the building would hear.
"The studio is soundproof. Let me hear those pretty sounds." He said against my neck, biting down on the skin.
I dropped my hand from my mouth and gripped his shoulder tightly, hips still circling his fingers. My moans sped up as my orgasm quickly built, my release getting closer and closer.
"Noah, you're gonna make me cum." I moaned out, bringing my head forward to rest on top of his.
He brought his free hand up to grip my chin, raising it so he could meet my eyes. "Cum for me. Let it all go, angel."
My brows furrowed and my jaw went slack as I was on the brink of my orgasm, hips speeding up as his finger did the same. My moans hit a higher pitch before my orgasm exploded, causing me to toss my head back and cry out at the pleasure coursing through my body.
"That'a girl." He praised, placing more kisses on my neck.
I brought my head forward, resting my forehead against his as my chest heaved and he worked me through my high. My body twitched against his while his finger slowly circled my sensitive clit, causing me to grip his shoulders tightly. My eyes slid shut while I took deep breaths to return my breathing to normal and he peppered kisses against my cheeks before landing on my lips. He broke the kiss and pulled his hand out of my pants, licking his fingers clean of my arousal. I rolled my bottom lip into my mouth and stifled a moan at the sight before grabbing his face and pressing my lips onto his, tasting myself on his tongue.
"Fuck me, Noah." I mumbled against his lips.
He growled into the kiss and flip us so that I was on my back and he was hovering above me. He stood up to pull his shirt off along with his pants and I did the same, drinking in the sight of his naked body. My eyes dropped to his erection, precum gathering on the tip as he slid his hand down his length.
My core throbbed at the size of him and I reached my hand in his direction. He walked closer and I grabbed his erection, sliding my hand up and down while using my thumb to smear the precum down the length of him. A soft moan escaped him before he crawled on top of me, pressing his lips to mine.
"Are you.." He mumbled against my lips, almost unable to finish his sentence.
"I'm clean and on birth control." I mumbled back, reaching between us to rub my thumb over the tip of his dick.
"I'm clean too." He said, kissing me harder.
I kissed him back, rubbing my thumb back and forth and causing him to moan against my lips. "Then get inside of me."
Those words were all it took for him to slide his length between my lips before sliding all the way into me, my arousal making it easy for him to fully enter me. We broke the kiss to gasp at the feeling, my legs coming up to wrap around his waist.
"Noah." I breathed out, placing my hands on his cheeks. "Don't go easy."
His eyes darkened as I said this. He pulled his hips back before slamming them into mine, causing me to cry out in pleasure. He placed his hands on my hips and squeezed hard as he began thrusting into me harshly, undoubtedly leaving bruises behind for later. His name fell from my lips in moans over and over the more he thrust into me. He leaned back and pulled my legs up so that they rested over his shoulders, squeezing my knees together. I gasped at the new angle, his thrusts perfectly hitting my g spot and my legs rubbing together stimulating my clit.
"Fuck." I moaned out, tossing my head back into the couch. I squeezed his thighs with my hands, nails digging into his tattooed skin.
"You feel so fucking good." He moaned, placing a kiss then a bite on my ankle.
"God, you're making me feel so good." I said, opening my eyes to look up at him.
The more he thrust into me the more my second orgasm built up, turning me into a moaning mess beneath him.
"You're gonna cum again, I can feel it." He groaned, thrusts staying at a steady pace. I nodded as my moans sped up, eyes squeezing shut. "Let go again. You can do it."
My breathing sped up before I was screaming his name, my second orgasm of the night crashing over me like a tidal wave. His thrusts slowed down to work me through my high again, body twitching underneath him.
"Fuck." I breathed out, eyes opening back up to meet his.
He smirked and leaned down to kiss me, my legs draped across his shoulders. "Good girl." He said against my lips before starting thrusting into me again.
My knees were to my chest and ankles over his shoulders as he kissed me, his thrusts becoming sloppier as his own orgasm crept up on him.
"I'm so fucking close." He growled against my lips, hand coming up to squeeze my neck.
My mouth dropped open as he squeezed me, more pleasure shooting through my body. "Cum for me, then." I breathed out, eyes locked onto his.
His brows furrowed. "Goddamn, you feel so good." He whined.
I bit my bottom lip as I watched his face contort in pleasure, a few more sloppy thrusts into me before he was pulling out and cumming on my stomach. Whines and whimpers mixed with his moans escaped him, his eyes rolling back as his body shook with his orgasm. I drank in the sight of him coming undone between my legs, committing everything to memory.
He sighed and dropped his head once his high calmed down, placing a kiss on my ankle. He slowly lowered my legs so he didn't hurt me before grabbing a few tissues from the table beside us to clean both of us off. He squeezed himself between me and the couch, turning me on my side so that we were face to face and his arm was draped across my waist.
"Hi." He breathed out.
I giggled, pushing the hair off of his forehead. "Hi."
"That is not how I expected tonight to go." He said, eyes shut in exhaustion.
I chewed on the inside of my lip to stifle the smile that threatened to slide onto my face. "Are you mad about it?"
His eyes popped open as he quickly shook his head no, causing me to laugh. "Not at all. I wouldn't be mad if it happened again, either."
I grinned and pressed my lips onto his.
"Me either."
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painsandconfusion · 9 months
Text
Sigh.
I'm putting this here because my therapist said I should. Am stressed. I failed the bar in February and as a result, I lost my job. I've been trying to study and I have a job lined up to start in August (I was supposed to start a while ago but I was so incredibly ill, we had to push it back).
As of right now, I'm officially out of money. Bills are still coming in and I had to spend a bit on meds when I was So Fucking Ill the last few weeks. I wasn't able to do as much work on art and furniture flipping as I'd have liked. When I try, I tend to overwork myself and relapse into The Sickness.
So uh.
Therapist said I should give you guys my kofi link. I feel dumb asking, but if you like me or my writing and want me to continue having things like internet and running water..bbbbuy me a coffee? Is that the line?
Not at all required, I love you all.
I'm just struggling right now and just need to make it by until the job starts in August.
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ishouldbedoinghw · 4 months
Text
You Can't Erase Me
One Piece fanfic, part 3
Previous parts are in my pinned masterlist.
A woman enslaved by the celestial dragons is found by a man with red hair. Angst ensues.
A/N: This story will follow the canon loosely; some events will stay the same, others will be edited for the plot. The timing of events will also be slightly edited from canon so that certain characters are included. The main character is an OC of mine and in her mid-20s. Yes this is important. Character design will likely come soon.
TW: slavery, human trafficking, vomit, mentions of attempted sexual abuse, traumatic flashbacks, discussion of trauma, general angst
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The first thing I remember next is vomit. There's acid pouring out of my mouth and sweat covering my body, and I'm emptying my stomach again and again and again until I don't think I even have bones anymore.
I'm hunched over, gripping the sides of a bucket so hard my knuckles turn white and my fingertips bleed. My clothing sticks to my body, and my mouth is writhing with the taste of vomit and bitter salt. My right hand reaches under me, trying to find some stability and trace the seven grooves in the floor. I can't feel them. The floor beneath me isn't the smooth wood I'm accustomed to, but a bumpy, moist texture that makes me want to vomit again.
Where am I what am I doing why am I sick what's happened-
A hand gingerly touches my back, and a white-hot pain tears through my body, making me scream. The hand quickly withdraws, taking the pain with it. At first, I think it might be the honey-man, then nausea rolls through me again as I picture the not-boy's hands touching me again, and I'm gagging over the bucket.
"It- it's alright, I won't touch you again," says a voice behind me, and I want to whirl around and put space between me and whoever is calling out to me, but the most my body will do is heave itself around slowly. My limbs feel heavy, and my head is pounding with the movement, and I catch a glimpse of dark blonde hair before I let out a choked sob that I don't quite understand. I spent my life serving the not-boy, why do I now want to scream at the thought of him being here?
Despite my mind's screaming protests, the blonde hair moves closer to me, and the blurred figure becomes a face. I relax slightly - it isn't him.
But I can't convince myself that I'm okay. I can't remember ever seeing anyone that looked like this man, he was never someone that came into the not-boy's room. He wasn't the honey-man, and I'd never heard his voice even murmuring in the hallways or through the walls.
"My name is Hongo," he speaks again, gesturing toward himself. "I'm a doctor, I'm here to make sure you're okay, and I'm not going to hurt you."
A doctor?
I stay silent, and he speaks again.
"What's your name?"
My mouth is sticky and unyielding as I try to open it. He looks at me, not speaking.
Is he just waiting for me to say something?
He's sitting cross-legged across from me, and I feel very... studied under his gaze. There's a scar creeping from his hairline, and most of his dirty blonde hair is pulled into a ponytail near the top of his head, the rest shaved from the top of his ear down. He's clearly older, but he moves with the energy of a much younger man, still full of life.
My tongue loosens, and I finally say, "They call me Cheeper."
He smiles at me then, all teeth that splits his face in two. He's missing a couple of teeth on one side, and I find myself staring at the gaps.
"But is that your name?" he presses further.
I really didn't think it was, the longer I thought about it. I think at one point I'd been something else, but I'd been Cheeper for so long that it was really the only name I associated myself with.
"No," I said finally, shifting my gaze from him to the floor.
"Do you have a name?"
Why does he care so much?
"I don't know," I shrug and start picking at the floor, somewhat missing the familiar one, two, three, four, five, six, seven grooves again. My body was still uncomfortably sticky, and my fingers left little semi-transparent smears as I traced shapes in the floor. The more I move my hands, the more I notice them shaking.
Hongo's hand starts reaching toward me again, and I find myself shuffling away before my back hits the wall behind me, and that burning pain shoots through me again. I let out a choked sob at the sensation, and he snatches his hand back, looking a bit sheepish.
"Is it okay if I touch you? Sorry I didn't ask before, I'm used to- well, different kinds of patients."
I wasn't sure what he meant by that, and I didn't ask. I just force myself to nod, closing my eyes and bracing myself for the pain from earlier.
Hongo's POV
"It would be better if you opened your eyes for this, might help you keep calm if you can see what I'm doin'," I say, reaching for a pair of thin gloves from on top of the table to my right.
She warily opens her eyes again, but doesn't relax an ounce, even at the sight of the gloves. She almost reminds me of a deer, with the way her spindly limbs tremble and how she looks at me with wide, terrified eyes.
"How about you just watch what I'm doing, you can tell me to stop anytime," I say as gently as I can, showing her my hands.
Her pale lips twitch, and her eyes are watery at she looks away, clearly fighting with herself. I wait, moving my hands to now fold them in my lap.
"I-" she finally says, her voice barely audible. "I don't want it to hurt again."
I shift closer to where she's cowered in the corner as subtly as I can, holding my arm out.
"Look," I say softly, "Touch my arm."
She doesn't move, so I continue:
"I think you have some injury on your back that's causing that pain. I won't touch you there if you don't want, but I need to see what other injuries you have if you don't wanna get more sick."
She looks at me again, tears spilling down her face as she says, "Okay."
I grab her wrist as gingerly as I can, and she visibly flinches as I press her fingertips to my arm.
"See?" I say, giving her what I hope is a comforting smile. She doesn't shy away as I release her wrist, so I take that as permission to continue.
She watches me with wide eyes as I check over her exposed skin. She's ghastly pale, and extremely dehydrated - to be expected from someone who was just fished out of the ocean and promptly puked everywhere. Her skin is raw and bruising around her neck, but nothing too serious as far as I can tell.
Lean back away from her, I start chewing on the inside of my cheek as I figure out what to say next. I don't want to push her, especially considering I'm a man she doesn't know, but I'm worried about the pain in her back.
I let out a sigh, and say "Listen, I know you're scared, and you don't want me to touch your back, but I need to see what's wrong so I can help."
"Do you promise you're going to help?" Her voice is barely a whisper, but I can't help but be thrilled that she's cooperated thus far. I stand, holding my hand out to her. She stares at it for a moment before putting both of her hands in mine, gripping both sides of my palm as I help lift her to her feet. She doesn't let go, and her legs tremble beneath her as her grip on my hand tightens.
Can she even stand on her own?
I start chewing the inside of my cheek again as I take just how truly tiny she really is. I can't even tell how old she is, she's all bones and pale skin, and my stomach clenches as I take in how malnourished she seems to be. I let her lean on me as I lead her to the bed on the other side of the room. As I gently guide her to sit down, her arm shoots down to stabilize herself on the stiff mattress. I almost turn back around to grab the puke bucket again as I watch her head hang and her breath quicken, but she looks up at me again after a minute, waiting for me to start.
"I promise that I'm here to help, but I can't promise this is going to be painless."
Her throat bobs, and for a moment I'm afraid she'll refuse my help, but she nods her head. I let out a sigh of relief, and start checking her vitals, saving the inspection of her back for last. I start mumbling what I'm doing once I touch her, hoping to offer some form of comfort.
Finally, I let out a puff of air and stand to full height, my knees cracking a bit as I did so.
"Alright, girlie, I need to lift your shirt up to see what's going on there, okay? I'm just gonna push it up over your shoulders, and it'll stay covering your front."
She just nodded once, and hunched over a bit more. The corner of my mouth twitches at her attempt to help. I had no idea where the poor girl came from, or how she'd ended up with some mermaid, especially so far from Fishman Island. Hell, even she didn't know. As I sat down next to her and gingerly started lifting the hem of her ratty shirt, I tried wracking my brain to figure out how a person couldn't even remember their own damn name.
A sour smell hit me as I slowly pushed her shirt up to her shoulders, and I could see raw, festering skin underneath. Bile rose into my throat, and my breathing grew unsteady as I saw the full state of her back. There, settling an infection deep into this girl's back, was the brand of the Celestial Dragons.
And it all made sense. The raw skin and bruising around her throat, the lack of any nourishment, right down to her lack of spirit-
My hand started shaking as my gaze traveled down to the exposed skin of her hips, littered in bruises. My breathing grew labored, and I had to clench my fist to keep myself from pulling her into my chest and telling her it would be alright, she was safe, and that she was far away from whatever sick bastards had done this to her.
But I couldn't scare her. I'm not even sure she was aware of anything that had really happened to her, and I sure as hell didn't know how to tell her.
I knelt in front of her so that I was at her eye level, and steadied my breathing.
"Well, girlie, you've got a nasty burn that looks infected. It's gonna hurt like a bitch, but I've gotta clean it and treat it or it'll get a lot worse."
To be honest, I wasn't sure how that infection hadn't killed her already. If she couldn't even remember where she came from, and she didn't even know what was on her own body, I can't even imagine how long she'd been under their control.
"Girlie," I started softly, "Do you know where you got all this?"
She looks at me, and shifts on the bed to run a trembling hand through her hair. It looks like a deep maroon or magenta, and seems to have been buzzed fairly recently.
"I don't know. I-"
She was cut off with a sharp knock on the door. I wanted to groan, knowing exactly who it was interrupting me. The door swings open, and there he stands - my captain, Red-Hair Shanks.
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