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#ok that's all if you're still reading that's
luveline · 1 day
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hi! i just remembered a scene from friends where chandler says to monica it's ok she's high maintenance cause he likes maintaining her and i think this is soooo spencer and bombshell!reader coded. you're ok with writing this as a request? love u jadey
ty (ily)!! fem!reader
Spencer’s feet ache dully with each step he takes, but you have your hand in his, and you’re pulling him along with a smile. Your smile could cure anything, he thinks stupidly. It’s completely outside of his beliefs, goes against every book on medicine he’s ever read. 
“Why are you frowning?” you ask, swinging his hand as you turn the corner together. 
“I’m not.” 
You step closer, arm stuck to his arm, nearly one body walking together against the summer breeze. “You’re frowning, Spence. You have a very obvious pout. It is so so cute.” You lean in to kiss him quickly, his heart turning to a pitter-patter under his ribs. 
“I’m tired,” he explains, not wanting you to think his bad mood has anything to do with you. 
“You’ve had a long day, that’s why. When we get back to your place I’ll give you an incredible foot massage and everything will be okay again.” 
“I don’t want a foot massage. My feet don’t even hurt,” he lies.
“Don’t bother.” You untangle your fingers from his and wave him away. “I know all your tells, baby boy,” —he laughs through a wrinkled nose— “nothing gets past me.” 
“Why’d you choose a dry cleaners so far from your apartment?” he asks. You could’ve picked the one beside work, which has a yellow pages worth of fantastic reviews. The one second closest to his place is new but raved about at length. This dry cleaners is nearly twenty-five blocks away.
“They do things exactly how I like it, I guess. I never have to worry about it when I give them my best clothes, and it’s kind of expensive if they were to accidentally ruin something, right?” You have expensive taste; you like things sturdy, fitted, and fashionable. 
“Do you think I should get someone to do my laundry?” he asks. 
“You can afford it. But maybe not. There’s nothing wrong with your own washing machine and a steamer.” You side eye him carefully. “Maybe I’m over the top.” 
“You’re high maintenance,” he agrees. “Is it expensive, getting your clothes dry cleaned all the time? I could pay for that.” 
“What? Why would you pay for it?” 
“‘Cos we’re together?” He’s more worried than dry about it. “I’d like to pay for your manicures and your hair, too, but I didn’t think you’d let me.”
“And I won’t… s’kind of nice you want to though. Really nice, um.” You’re blinking funny. “I think that’s more of a husband thing. You really want to pay for me to get manicures?” 
Spencer pays for lots of your stuff because he loves you. Good food mostly, but treats, clothes, anything he might think you’re interested in, actually. He likes to spoil you. You tend to spoil him back, if not with money then affection. “I like maintaining you.” 
You curl your arm through his. “That’s a funny way to say it.” 
He laughs at your obvious delight. “I like taking care of you,” he admits. “You like being high maintenance, it makes you happy, and I like making you happy.” 
“Thank you very much,” you say, softer now as your hand works up his neck and you turn his face to you, the sidewalk and the streetlines melting away under your warm touch. “You make me happier than you know.” 
His cheeks turn pink. He doesn’t need to see himself to confirm. It’s a high statistical probability. 
“Kiss?” you ask, voice still soft. 
Spencer walks you back nearer to the side of a building and out of the way, his hands at your neck and waist as he leans down just a touch to close your gap. He acts selfishly, perhaps, taking your hand from his face in order to hold yours in both of his without anything in the way of it. He kisses, he breathes you in, his head tilting more heavily to the side as the kiss lengthens, lingers. You’re like a flower in his hand, blooming slowly under the effects of a little heat. 
“What if you pay for my dry cleaning,” you begin, a smile evident in your voice though Spencer keeps his eyes closed. Tracing the hill of your cheek with his fingers just a moment longer. “And I pay for yours?” 
Spencer thumbs along your jaw. “I don’t want anything from you, just you.” 
“Well, what if I treat us to some Indian takeout tonight?” you ask. “Would you eat that? Or am I enough to sustain you, my love?” 
He could enjoy being taken care of in turn, he thinks. 
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I'll Never Date A Fuckboy - LN
Dark fic - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Summary: Lando doesn't think it's a crime to enjoy a woman's company but when his friend refuses him for his reputation and believing she'll be thrown aside as a result. He proves he always gets want he wants.
PSA this is kind of fucked up ngl
Themes/warnings: Kidnapping, abuse of power, bad tempers, "training", friend!reader, slut-shaming(ish), voyeurism (somewhat dubcon), dom!Lando-ish vibes, restraints, a bit of a sweet ending (? as sweet as an ending as I could make for this fic?)
I may decide to do a small part 2, it would be much shorter but kind of a peak into what becomes of them
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Y/n isn't sure how she ended up in Lando's apartment but their night out with friends has somehow led to here. Dwelling on why would be too much of a headache right now.
But when them sitting on the sofa eating McDonald's together turns into her finding herself in a very hot and heavy kiss she has so snap herself out of it and remember her self-respect is still intact. She hasn't drank that much.
"I should go." Y/n states grimacing just at the thought of how many other girls saliva is in her mouth.
She needs to brush her teeth and watch her mouth out with mouthwash now. Or even some strong alcohol might do the job.
"What? Why?" Lando frowns watching her stand up and literally trip and fall over the coffee table leg.
"Ow." Y/n winces to herself before she tries to get up again.
"Y/n, will you calm down? What's wrong?"
"I just...we are not going down that route. I'm not being another name on a list for your fans to condemn for being a slut-or-or a gold digger and I have enough self-respect that you have a solid group of women to rely on for sex."
"What are you'd talking about?" Lando frowns looking completely confused over the whole thing. She's just not making sense.
"You're a fuckboy, Lando! And I will never date, fuck, involve myself like that with a fuckboy. It's not your fault, it's not something you need to change but I'm not going to put myself through that." Y/n states moving to grab her stuff. "You're a great friend, I love you as a person. But in the same way that I love Max and P and all our other friends. That kiss...is a mistake and we both need to forget it happened. Ok?"
"Are you serious? You're rejecting and shaming me for being with other women before you?" Lando scoffs catching her wrist and while he's not holding her to a bruising degree. He's holding her tight enough that she's locked in his hold and unable to escape. "And how many men have got between your legs in your life?"
"Lando, let go of me." Y/n grunts trying to escape his grip despite knowing that he's too strong to attempt overpowering him. So instead she gets angry. "You've literally had your tongue in like 6 girls mouths tonight and I don't even want to think about the potential diseases on your hand from where you've touched them. So let go of me."
"Alright, but will you calm down before you leave? We're still friends, I don't-I don't want you leaving when you're clearly drunk and upset."
Now admittedly in a logical and rational way that makes the most sense, and while her drunk self wants to tell him to fuck himself because his previous comment hurt. She knows she's spoken more harshly towards him. So it's only fair that she just calm herself down before making one exit.
"Ok, but can you let go please?" Y/n mumbles proving that she is going to calm down.
-
Every time Lando touched another woman, especially when he was having sex with her, y/n is at the front of his mind.
Watching another woman leave his hotel room, he groans rubbing his hands over his face.
The thoughts of a solution were going against any right pointing moral compass and he wishes he hated himself for plotting to go through with it.
He figured it would take some smart strategy since things had been tense and awkward despite the agreement that they'd pretend the kiss and night never happened.
He decided to make her the only one invited to Monaco and while he knows his family and friends find it suspicious to not be invited. He knows they won't ask or question him about it, after all they know his invitation is a privilege to get. Not a right.
Seeing y/n enjoy her weekend and document it all is pretty fun. He almost feels a pinch of guilt knowing how it's going to end.
He's arranged it all and he's not going to let it go wrong.
After getting a good race result, he goes for media and debrief before grabbing y/n and pulling her to his apartment saying they need to change for the night out with other drivers.
Y/n could've never expected being cuffed to a radiator (does anywhere have radiators outside of England anymore idk, but for the sake of this fic we're saying he got at least one radiator and it's in his bedroom). She couldn't have imagined he'd gag her and when tears are blurring her vision, she is left at his mercy.
"Don't worry, baby. I'll be back." Lando smiles gently rubbing her cheek with his thumb before he leans forward feeling her flinch when he kisses her forehead. "I'm trusting you to behave while I'm gone, ok?"
Y/n whines behind the gag more tears appearing to flood her face.
"It'll be ok." Lando promises with another smile. "Don't move."
-
Now admittedly it's a risk, but this girl seems to be drunk enough to be level with Lando who used liquid courage to continue following through on at least this part of the plan. The only part that holds such significant risk.
Y/n's head snaps up only visible to Lando from where she's curled up in the corner of the room. Clearly having been obedient to his instructions.
"Fuck." Lando groans as lies back on the bed as the girl slides a condom on and climbs on top of him, beginning to bounce on him while y/n watches silently. Admittedly the darkness of the room and her position probably allows for a limited view, but neither Lando nor the girl are being quiet.
Now Lando doesn't want to finish so after managing to pull her girl off and give her head till she orgasms. He doesn't care to save feelings when he not so subtly helps her redress and shows her the door, tossing the condom off into the bin before he gets back to the bedroom, momentarily tucking himself into his shorts that he'd picked up while dressing the girl who he never bothered to learn the name of.
"Hey, love." Lando greets crouching in front of y/n while she takes heavy and unsteady breaths looking at him. "Oh come on, there's no need for tears...but you're going to finish the job ok?"
Y/n nods seemingly agreeing out of fear more than anything.
"Good girl. Now if you try to run, or scream or bite or do anything I don't think is ok. This is going to be a long and hard journey." Lando states before reaching around the back of her head and undoing the gag making her cough and heave a little.
After grabbing the keys to unlock her wrists from the cuffs he sighs placing her on the bed and wanting to test something as part of his theory.
"Did watching turn you on?" Lando questions making her close her thighs trying to block his hand from touching her to test his theory. "I thought you were going to behave."
"I-I'm sorry." Y/n chokes out, not fighting him as much as he's sure she wants to. But when his hand force her thighs apart again and he laughs lightly pressing a finger under her damp underwear. He clicks his tongue.
"For someone who doesn't want a fuckboy. You really seem to be lying." Lando states shaking his head before he moves up pulling her back down to the edge of the bed. "On you knees, I want to see how your mouth feels."
Y/n doesn't even stop herself from getting down on her knees as he sits on the bed, gathering her hair into a hand. The wet warmth of her tongue hits the top of his dick before the rest of her mouth follows. And while he lets her initially lead the pace, his patience somewhat spent. He begins bobbing her head faster and reaching a new depth that, on his side, is euphoric.
There's no option of being a quitter who spits when he groans holding her down as deep as he can force himself. Cum shooting down her throat and seemingly not stopping as he feels himself throbbing in her twitching and pulsing throat, forced to swallow everything before he manages to press even deeper for a couple seconds enjoying the moment and sensation before finally allowing her the air she's being blocked from.
Y/n hiccups between coughing and gasping for air while Lando feels what he knew he'd feel afterwards with y/n. The urge to comfort and love her.
"Come here, baby." Lando smiles making her practically crawl up.
Y/n is the exact type of person who needs comfort in times of distress even in times when the only person available to give her any comfort is the person who caused the distress.
"Let's get you changed into something more comfortable and then I think you and I both need to sleep." Lando states making her sniffle and nod.
"Ok." Y/n whispers though her voice sounds like he may have actually given a couple jabs at her vocal cords.
"Are you ok?" Lando questions knowing from his side this is more of a test while y/n is too caught up in herself to be thinking about Lando's ulterior motives in the question.
"I think so." Y/n mumbles before she swallows thickly. "Can I have some water?"
"Yeah, you just wait here." Lando nods gently hoisting her to the bed.
-
When morning comes around the shock has definitely worn off and y/n is not feeling as eager to find comfort in Lando.
"You kidnapped me and you used me!" Y/n hisses while Lando eats his breakfast of overnight oats. "I'm not worth this, Lando. You-you can choose so many girls. SO MANY and not abduct them and hold them hostage."
"I think I've made it obvious I don't want those other girls." Lando frowns before watching her yank at the roots of her hair in frustration.
"You can't do this, Lando...if we were ever friends you'd not be doing this." Y/n stresses swallowing thickly before she hiccups feeling her emotions get the better of her. "Lando please."
Lando sighs placing down the little jar before he moves over and cups her face, earning a flinch from her but she's trapped in his hold.
"I don't want to have to leave you here...don't make me do that, y/n." Lando sighs while she watches him with sad eyes. "I can be so good to you, the best man you've ever had in your life."
"What do you mean you're going to leave me here?" Y/n mumbles making him refrain from rolling his eyes.
"I have to go over to Canada in a couple days, where you'll be in the hotel and stay in the hotel." Lando states earning a thick swallow.
-
Lando decided cuffing her ankles was a better and likely safer option to keep her in the room. Long enough for her to get to the en suite but since it's a suit she can't get all the way to the door. Though there's a do not disturb sign to make sure housekeeping don't find her either.
She's killed her time just flicking through Netflix, not bothering with an attempt at escape. It's unlikely going to get her far. She's in Canada for fuck sake with no phone, no money, no ID and if she told people that he'd kidnapped her, he could probably find a way to pay them.
"Hello, gorgeous." Lando smiles and to y/n's surprise she smiles for a split second before forcing it to drop. "What? Have you not had a good day?"
"Would've been good if I could leave the room." Y/n mumbles earning a sigh from the F1 driver. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."
"It's alright, but I have to be able to trust that you're not just going to leave." Lando smiles sadly before he gently rubs her back as he sits down. "I love you."
Y/n doesn't reply, not being able to say anything before she huffs and keeps her mouth shut.
"Did you watch qualifying?" Lando asks making her look at him for a moment before she nods.
"Front row is pretty good." Y/n mumbles then throwing her leg up onto the bed. "Can you unlock it so I can go in the bath?"
"Can I join you?" Lando smirks gently playing with the restraint.
"Yes." Y/n mutters earning a hum. "You know I don't hate you."
"Good. I don't want you to hate me." Lando smiles rubbing her leg, quite enjoying the sight of her in crop top and a pair of his boxers as her choice of outfit for the day.
He sighs pulling the key from his pocket to giving her the freedom, leaning back a little to watch as she gets up and jogs to the bathroom.
She returns leaving the water to run for a bit since the bath is pretty huge and it doesn't need to be watched just to fill for the most part.
"Can I ask something...and don't get mad?"
"Go on..."
"Do you really not want anyone else?" Y/n mumbles making him look at her for a split second before he laughs a little.
"You think I'd go to this length if I wanted anyone else? I don't."
"But why do you want me." Y/n almost whispers then jumping a little as he pulls her forward towards himself.
"I want you because when we kissed. It was the best fucking kiss of my life and when I wake up next to you, the first thing I want is to get inside of you. God I always want to be inside you." Lando groans just at the thought.
It shouldn't feel as flattering as it does.
"Do you really mean it when you say you love me?"
"Stop." Lando instructs suddenly making her frown. "We're moving at a pace that isn't going to rush you into doing stuff you'll have doubts about. I've thrown you in the deep end but from here we're easing you into everything else slowly."
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scientia-rex · 2 days
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Long ask. I didn't see that you had answered anything similar.
How do I do activism? Yes, I could Google it, but I would rather learn from a stranger with claimed yet unverifiable experience on Tumblr than from a stranger with claimed yet unverifiable experience anywhere else, and I'm here and so are you and we can talk and have a [para]social interaction. I won't bore you with a condensed autobiography, but I have a lot of experience fixing mistakes, not unlike being a physician, but far less noble, what David Graber would call a "duct-taper". It's partly what led me to socialism. I fixed mistakes but could not fix the root causes and, when I investigated those causes, I ran into structure. I couldn't explain the human behavior I witnessed as human nature, because it wasn't my nature and, as far as I know, I'm human, so the only explanation I could come up with was that the structure of the company I worked for created the problems I was trying to solve, and I had no power to change that structure, and no desire to join the psychopaths failing up the corporate ladder. I expanded my thinking outward and saw the problem inherent in capitalism and all the associated -isms and -archies, all the while trying to figure out what I could do that could possibly change any of it. I dove into progressive politics, read theory, consumed all the lefty content I could find, and thought, and keep running into the same problems. But even if the root causes cannot be addressed, the effects still need to be, because the effects are people, hence activism.
How do I talk to congresspeople? I email them about issues, but am frankly afraid to call them. Shall I get voice mail, or does a person pick up? If the latter, I'm assuming it will be a secretary. I don't want to be mean to a person answering phones. I've been one of those people getting yelled at or threatened because of events I did not cause and could not possibly prevent or change and, maybe I'm oversensitive or have PTSD or just a hyperactive amygdala, but I cannot overstate the damage those negative experiences cause. Sure, in the grand scheme of things, the lives that can be saved or improved outweigh a few people's hurt feelings or possible psychological trauma, but I would prefer not to turn this into a trolley problem if at all possible. Maybe it's a stupid question. Maybe I'm overthinking it. I can be charming and I have no lack of empathy; I can politely disagree. Shall I have to argue with anyone? Or is it a thank-you-for-your-participation-I-will-tell-the-congressperson-have-a-nice-day situation?
How do I get a job doing good things for people? This is somewhat pressing as I quit my corporate job five years ago, to have what turned out to be a midlife crisis, and have been living off savings (that are running out) ever since. I want to help and don't want to be ashamed of what I do for a living. I've always been able to do anything I've ever tried to do, but I'm 45 with little formal education or qualifications, and am thinking it's maybe too late to go back to school. Most of the non-profits I see seem like little more than scams. And perhaps the most serious complication: I'm a loner, more out of habit than inclination. I'll spare you the background, but I have no connections and no idea how to make them, and I don't believe I have any particular skills so valuable that should confer an immediate advantage or demand for my labor, but then again I don't know what is in demand.
It's OK if you can't answer some of these things. I simply have no one to talk to about them who can give any actual advice and figured you might. Thanks.
How to do activism: The first thing you need to know is your axe to grind. It was easy for me. I've been out since I was 13, nobody ever believes a girl is bisexual, it's always "you want attention" or "you're secretly a lesbian." That was in 1997. I went through hell and I'm bitter about it. So when I realized I liked medicine, I realized I could turn my life into an extended revenge arc by moving home and telling everybody it's OK to be gay. Two birds, one stone. I work with a woman who didn't get her axe to grind until about three years ago. She realized she was fed up with people abandoning dogs. She's one of the most active volunteers at the local shelter now. She's saved a lot of dogs' lives. She didn't start out knowing anything about it, but she told the shelter she wanted to volunteer, and they've helped her grow through the rest of it. My husband works with the local food bank, because his mom's neighbor (who is a family friend and sweetheart) wrangled him in to serving on the board, so now in addition to board meetings once a month he goes in sometimes to do things like help his mom's friend unload trucks. Sometimes the cause picks you, sometimes you pick the cause, sometimes you are the cause. And no matter what the cause is, someone else is already working on it. Someone else already cares deeply and if you show up ready to be hands on and help out, with humility because you know that you don't know everything, they will help you learn how to be effective. I started out in medicine by volunteering at the emergency room near where I lived. I pushed a linen cart around and restocked gowns in rooms, and when I couldn't fit any more washcloths into drawers I cleaned doorknobs. One of the nurses once told me she really appreciated that I cleaned all the doorknobs, because it wasn't getting regularly done. I am in medicine now because of many, many people I asked for help and who helped me because they wanted to contribute to justice and equity in medicine, whether for queers or rural people or women. This is, and has always been, a combined effort. Alone we beg, together we bargain.
Calling elected representatives: Oh god I know, me too, calling strangers is the LITERAL WORST. I'm 40 and I'd rather pepper-spray myself than argue with a human on the phone. Wait until after hours and you'll get a voicemail. I like to leave voicemails that start with "My name is Dr. Rex, I'm a constituent of yours, and I VOTE, and I'm calling about ____." That's honestly about all it takes--when I was hanging out with the lobbyist she told me they keep lists with tick-marks for how many calls, emails, etc., they get on a topic. Calls count for more. The more effort you have to put in, the more engaged they know you are. So call, but if people scare you (and the people who pick up are almost always nice, if you do get a person, and they will 99/100 times say "thank you for your call, we will pass your concerns along to so-and-so"), call at night.
Going back to school is probably unnecessary. Spin your past experience aggressively and start applying to nonprofits. (You "took time off from the working world in order to sharpen your focus on what matters most to you," which will be whatever this particular group does.) It's OK if you pick a bad one to start with; most of them are shit-shows, and lots of them still accomplish good things. Nonprofits are a bloodbath when it comes to actually being an employee--they know that part of the compensation is the sense of living ethically and they will use your altruism against you--so keep your resume updated and be prepared to bail if grant funding doesn't come through, but most areas have food banks and pet shelters and human shelters and jails and medical clinics and hospitals (for every doctor who works at the local hospital there are at least 10 support staff by the numbers, and they are utterly critical and always under-staffed). Sometimes if you start by volunteering somewhere, once they realize you're dependable, you can get a job there. I am zero percent kidding about working for a hospital, clinic, or jail, by the way. Those are places I know well, and there are always civilian jobs available. You want to make a patient's day better? Be the front desk, front line staff who use the right pronouns and cheer them up.
I think it's completely reasonable to have procedural questions about how all of this works, and I am grateful to you for giving me a chance to talk about it a bit. Please feel free to ask any follow-up questions. And for reference, when I was just starting out in research at a time when the market for research-trained people frankly sucked, I applied well over 300 times and got well over 300 rejections (I was counting) before I ended up with a job that I loved (even though it was hellishly stressful and I made just barely more than minimum wage for working well over my alleged, salaried "hours") and felt like I was making a positive difference for the world with. And from there, I kept making changes as I realized what I wanted and needed. Just keep doing it. You don't have to feel good about every step, you don't have to know what you're doing, just keep putting one foot in front of the other as you try to figure out what will make you happy. Because nothing else is a good proxy for happiness, and happiness, for a whole lot of humans, means finding something meaningful to do in life. Helping others. Be okay with changing, be okay with sacrificing who you are right now for the sake of who you can become. You've survived four decades on this bizarre and cruel planet, and you have inherent, intrinsic worth as a human being. You deserve your own kindness.
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agirlcandream84 · 1 day
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you write a lot of boyfriend!frank but how do you think he would be before that/at the beginning of the relationship, who would be the first to ask the other out? do you think frank would be confident in himself or a anxious mess during a first date? would he try to kiss her? and the same when it comes to first sex- confident or rather anxious? love your writing!! 💗
First of all -- thank you! So glad you're enjoying reading. Second -- such great questions! So much to think about.
Ok, so I imagine the relationship not following a typical linear path. In a lot of ways, I sort of envision my Neighbor!Frank stories to be a prelude to Boyfriend!Frank though there are a lot of differences between the two. They're not technically the same "character" but I still envision the relationship starting in a similar way. Meaning, you're in each other's orbits for a long time -- neighbors who rely on each other a lot (more like you relying on him more tho) and in a lot of ways, it's a very intimate, nearly romantic relationship. Frank sort of makes it his job to make sure you're taken care of, even if it is from down the hall. Hauling your packages up to your unit, fixing your jammed window, installing your garbage disposal for you.
And most of the time, he's anticipating your needs before you get a chance to ask him. Like that jammed window-- you worked up the nerve to knock on his door and ask for help and all you say is "Frank, I was wondering if maybe you could--" and he's finishing your sentence with "fix that jammed window? Yeah sweetheart, I saw your curtains blowin' in the breeze last night and knew that window must have been jammed open. Piece-of-shit landlord shouldn't be leaving you in a unit without locked windows" while he's grabbing for his toolbox.
And this goes on for months -- with the moments growing more intimate but still never romantic. Like when he was gone for 9 days straight and you couldn't stop checking the peephole everytime you heard footsteps. On the ninth day, when he finally came home, you barreled out of your apartment door and nearly crashed into his arms mumbling, "was so worried about you Frank. You didn't tell me you were leaving," and he's just rubbing your back and murmuring, "hey hey, I'm here sweetheart. Shit, didn't mean to worry ya -- just had some business I had to do. Hey I'm alright, I'm alright." And it was that moment that Frank decided he wasn't gonna leave you like that again.
Because as far as Frank was concerned, he was gonna stay in your life whether it was romantic or not. You were it for him. He was in it for the long haul. Now he was just gonna give you time for you to realize it too. And that came a few weeks later when a particularly pushy date was at your doorstep, pulling out every excuse in the books to get into your apartment, in the hopes of getting into your pants. He's got one foot in your door, going on and on about how he could really use a coffee and maybe you just could just make him a cup and you're politely declining over and over until you see Frank's door creak open and he casually leans against the frame, arms folded across his broad chest, and asks "everything alright sweetheart?" and the guy just cranes his neck back to say "fuck off buddy." Frank only smirks a bit before he makes eye contact with you and says "Say the word honey," and you just give him a quick nod. Frank is on the guy in two strides, stomping his foot with a sickening crunch and the guy is hunched and howling. Frank leans towards his ear, his arm looped around the guy's bicep as he hauls him upright and says "Apologize-- now" and the guy is spewing I'm sorrys at you as Frank shoves him with a "now get the fuck out of here."
Not a moment later and Frank is back in front of you, a hand cupped to your jaw and a thumb rubbing the skin of your cheek asking if you're ok and "he didn't touch you did he?" You lean into his hand and shake your head no, offering a quiet thank you for his help. You both stay like that a moment, reveling in the closeness. The safety of it. Frank's eyes are searching your face as he asks, "When are you gonna stop wasting your time with these assholes?" He had seen the dates come and go, never lasting more than a few awkward encounters. For a moment, you can't meet his eye but you force a smile and and ask "What asshole should I be wasting my time with?" He lets out a soft chuckle and his other hand lands on the opposite cheek, tilting your face up towards his as he says "this asshole" and guides your lips to his. At first the kiss is slow, tentative. Like he'd be asking permission if his mouth weren't already occupied. He's gauging your comfort but he soon finds confirmation when you let out a small whine as you raise to your tip-toes to deepen the kiss.
Like a powderkeg, Frank hauls you closer to him, guiding your bodies back into your apartment with your lips still locked. You're nearly floating, the strength of Frank's grip carrying you into the bedroom where he lifts you onto the bedroom and undresses you as he kisses along your body, telling you how fucking beautiful you are. And throughout it all you hear Frank's plea-- let me love you, let me love you, let me love you-- in the way Frank fills you up slowly, the way he asks "you ok sweetheart?" every time he draws a whimper from you, the way his hand is soft on your stomach as an orgasm tears through you.
And that was it. Not another moment passed that Frank didn't let you know you were his and he was yours.
Not the most storybook love story but it's how I envision it.
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solarissun · 3 days
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We are never, ever getting back together (pt 2)
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afab!reader x Mike Schmidt
pt 1
WC: 3k
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of intoxication, slow burn, mentions of child abuse, no use of y/n, aged up character
A/N: I want to apologize for any confusion the first chapter might have caused! This fic is a Mike Schmidt fic. It's just a slow burn/somewhat(?) of a love triangle and I thought adding Clapton would be funny. (plus I’m in love with him…) Before you read, just as a warning, this chapter gets pretty deep. 
Enjoy!
tags: @h3llo-k1tt @caminterrupted @jhutchismyl0verb0y
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It's been almost a month since you and Clapton's hookup. He's been texting you nonstop. Text after text floods in, and you ignore them all. You feel bad, but you’re too embarrassed to even face him. You sigh, flipping open to Clapton’s contact to read the new heap of texts.
U good?
Miss you. Hope that ur ok.
Wanna hang?
Helloooo?
Okay. Just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of u.
You groan, slamming your phone back down on the bedside table. You enjoyed the night you two had, and it felt great at the time. But now you just feel like shit. Now all you think about is Mike, and how disgusted he was with you. While you’re thinking about Mike, you realize you haven’t seen or heard him in weeks. He’s been out of his apartment way more than usual, and you’re sure he's avoiding you. To be honest, you don’t blame him. If he pulled that on you, you’d up and leave.
You lay back down on the couch, grabbing the remote and turning on a movie, desperate to think of anything else but Mike or Clapton. Suddenly, you hear frantic knocking on your door. You reach for the remote and pause the TV. You sit silently for a minute, wondering if you were hearing things. Not only is it 8 pm on a Saturday, but you also aren’t expecting any guests. Who could possibly be knocking on your door? As you're about to un-pause the TV, more knocks echo and bounce off the walls.
You slowly get up from the couch, and wearily walk over to the door. You shift to the balls of your feet, trying to peer through the peephole. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as all you see is the top of someone's head. You slowly wrap your hand along the cold metal of the knob, slowly turning it open. Your eyes widen as you see Abby on the other side.
Her face lights up, her eyes practically glowing. She squeals, bolting over to you and wrapping her arms around your waist.  “Abby!” You scream, pulling her into you.
“I missed you so much! Mike said you moved away to your castle to be a princess!” You scoff inwardly, Mike’s lie making you despise him even more. "Where is your castle, by the way?" You glance down at her, ready to make up some insane lie. Before you get the chance, you look to your left, seeing Mike skirt around the corner, bee-lining towards you. He’s panting, his face red. “Shit- I’m... Sorry. She’s so fast.” You plaster a sickly sweet smile on your face, ensuring Abby doesn’t notice the hostility between you.
Mike takes Abby’s hands, prying her off you. “Heyy! I want to play with her! Please! Please, Mike!” She whines, giving Mike her best puppy eyes. He looks up at you, a guilty look falling over his features. He shrugs at you, waiting for your response. “Okay, come in!” You say, focusing on the little girl in front of you instead of Mike. The two of them walk into your apartment, Mike clearly not wanting her to be alone with you. You give him a dirty look and he rolls his eyes. Luckily, Abby’s too focused on your decor to notice or even care.
She runs around your apartment, oohing and ahhing at every fuzzy pillow and every cute decoration lining your shelves. She opens your bedroom door, and you think she’s about to explode. She looks back at you, her eyes wide. “You can go in.” You say, giggling as she wastes no time to roll around in all the stuffed animals you still keep on your bed. You quickly follow behind her, flinging yourself in the pile. Mike leans against the door frame, smiling as he watches you both stand up and jump up and down the bed. Abby stops, her eyes catching on something on your bedside table. She jumps down, her feet landing on the plush carpet. She grabs a heart locket off your bedside table, holding it up to the light. “Woah! This is so pretty!”
You immediately freeze, your face almost lighting on fire. You quickly grab it out of her hands, stuffing it in a drawer. “Mhm, so pretty! Why don’t we get out of the bedroom?” You steer her out of the room, sliding around Mike. You loved her with all your being, but her lack of an attention span seemed like it was out to get you.
As Abby sits down on the couch, you look over at Mike. His eyes are wide and his eyebrows are furrowed. He glances back into your room, the locket he got you for your 3rd anniversary haphazardly hanging out of the drawer. You both stare at each other for what feels like forever. 
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Mike opens your front door, not even bothering to announce his arrival. He sits down next to you, a huge smile on his face. “What?” You mirror his smile, confused as to what he might be so excited about. “Okay, I know our anniversary isn't for a few days but I- I just couldn’t wait. I'm sorry it's cheap, I couldn’t afford much.” He says, awkwardly. 
He reaches into his hoodie pocket, taking out a velvet box. You look up at him sweetly, gasping as you open it. You pull out a heart-shaped locket. You feel your eyes well up as you open it, reading the words engraved inside.
“I’ll love you forever and Always, Mike.” 
You fling yourself onto him and you wrap your arms around his waist. He pulls you into him kissing you sweetly. In between kisses you mumble out, “I love you so much.” You feel so loved and so grateful that you met someone like him. You didn’t care about the money, he was worth so much more than gold or diamonds to you. 
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You shake your head, pushing the memories out of your mind. Mike looks away from you, his cheeks growing rosey. You sigh loudly, sitting down next to Abby. Over the next few hours, you and Abby color what feels like a thousand different sheets of paper. 
By 11 pm, you’re both lying down on the floor, markers and papers scattered all across your living room. Mike watches from the couch, telling Abby a story as she draws him. A few times, you both glance at each other, but you both quickly turn your gaze to Abby instead. After Abby finishes her drawing, she holds it up to you and him. “It's so good!” Mike says, taking the paper out of her hand. He starts pointing out small little details Abby included, gushing over each and every one. You’re utterly entranced as you watch him. 
You miss him so much.
Your eyes widen and bite your cheek, wanting to slap yourself across the face for even thinking that. He abandoned you. That’s it. 
But.. He loved you so much. Or at least you thought so. How could he just up and leave without a word? You wanted desperately for there to be any other reason. A part of you was convinced there actually was. You bite down harder, a salty metal taste erupting across your tongue.
Whatever happened, he left. That’s it. There’s no excuse. You clench your jaw, trying to ignore the roller coaster that’s running through your mind. Maybe… Maybe for now you can forget your distaste for him. Just for a few minutes.
You smile softly as he and Abby burst out laughing. 
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They leave. Too soon. As soon as the door shuts behind the both of them, the apartment is filled with deafening silence. You lay down on the hardware floor, the cold wood seeping through your shirt and biting into your back.
You never realized how much you truly missed Mike and Abby until you saw them tonight. Or… Maybe you just missed having someone to wake up to every day. Whatever it is, you shake it off and crawl onto the couch, too sad to walk a few feet to your bed. You pull a soft blanket over you, the edge of it just barely covering your feet.
You slowly drift off to sleep, dreaming of a time when you and Mike weren’t basically sending bombs to each other's front doors.
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You bolt awake, sweaty and shaky. You look around, your heart beating out of your chest. You’re unsure of what woke you up, but it scared the shit out of you. Listening closer, you hear crying, no, wailing. And it’s coming from next door. You quickly bolt up, running to your door. But, you pause as soon as you reach it. You don't want to get involved with Mike and Abby's life more than you have to. Plus, it could just be one of her usual tantrums. It could even just be something as trivial as a burnt breakfast. You pivot, turning back towards the couch. As soon as you hear screaming, you tear up all of your inhibitions and run into the hall. When you reach Mike’s door, it flies open and a woman storms out, dragging an inconsolable Abby out.
The woman, who you recognize as Mike’s aunt, is gripping Abby’s arm so hard that the skin around her fingers turns white. Mike runs out of his apartment pleading with her, “You can see she doesn’t want to go! Please, just-” Abby digs her heels into the ground grabbing Mike's shirt with her free hand. Jane yanks Abby to her side, pulling her away from her brother. “I guess I’ll have to go to the police and tell them you kidnapped my niece! I have sole custody, not you, Michael!” Mike’s eyes go wide, the color draining from his face. He takes a step back, putting as much distance between him and Jane as possible.
You watch in shock, beyond confused about what had gone down during the two years you were broken up. “You truly are a despicable woman.” He says, disgust dripping from his voice. Mike crouches down, getting eye level with Abby. “Abby, I’ll see you soon. I promise, okay?.” His voice cracks as he reaches out, wiping her tears with his thumb. Abby wiggles out of her Aunt’s grip, running forward to wrap her arms around him. He pulls her closer as she sobs into his sweater. Aunt Jane rolls her eyes and then rips Abby away with absolutely no remorse. She drags her down the hall, turning the corner, and disappearing completely.
He sits down, pressing his back against the wall. He exhales, tilting his head back and staring into the fluorescent lights. You cautiously take a step towards him, “Mike…?” He looks over at you, his jaw clenching as he sees you. “Still can’t seem to mind your own business, huh?” He scoffs, his eyes turning away from you. You pause, crouching next to him. You desperately want to comfort him, but you just don't know how. “Can.. Can I do anything?” He looks over at you, his face twisting into a death stare. “For starters, you can leave me alone.” You flinch, feeling a wave of sadness rush over you. You can’t even imagine how he feels. “Mike, please..” You reach out, your hand brushing his.
He slaps your hand away, and screams, “I said leave me the fuck alone!” You stand up, taking a step backward. “I’m sorry for having a fucking heart, Mike!” He laughs, standing up. “Oh, you have a heart? Did you ever tell Clapton why you called him at 2 in the fucking morning?” You look away from him, swallowing. “That's what I thought. Leave me the fuck alone, and stay out of my life!” You feel tears burning your eyes, threatening to spill over. Your lip quivers as you speak, “All... All I wanted to do was help.”
“This is exactly why I left you.” He turns away, storming into his apartment. As soon as the door hits the frame you break down, falling to your knees in the middle of the hall.
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You’ve been crying for hours straight, the tears seemingly having no end. Your pillow is drenched and tissues are splayed out all over your comforter. As you wallow in despair, the sun slowly sinks further across the sky, the only light illuminating your room being the white glow of the moon.  It’s crazy to you how two entire years after your separation, Mike is still making you feel so extremely worthless. You could never be enough for him, no matter how hard you tried. What you hated most though, is that he had a point. You used Clapton. For your own sick and twisted reasons, you used him. And you hated yourself for it. 
Just as you begin to sob harder, you hear a thud against the wall, coming from the hallway. The sound echoes through the walls again, and it sounds almost like someone ran into it. You hear someone grunt and struggle, cursing. You recognize the voice and you groan, taking everything in you not to get up and check on him.
Suddenly, it feels like someone takes control of your body as you walk to your door, stepping into the hallway. You see Mike fumbling with his keys, missing the keyhole every time. He’s clearly very intoxicated. It’s surreal seeing him in such a way. He never drank when you were with him, he always told you he had to make sure Abby was always looked after and always had someone to turn to. Now that she’s not here, you guess he decided nothing is stopping him from getting shitfaced.
You walk over to him, grabbing the keys out of his hands, and unlocking the door yourself. He looks over at you, and any ounce of disdain he held for you from earlier disappeared. “Thanks..” He says quietly. You invite yourself in, making sure he gets to the couch without hurting himself. You avoid eye contact the whole time, knowing if you glance at him for even a second you’d burst out into tears.
Once he’s settled, you turn to walk away, but you feel his hand grasp your wrist, stopping you. “Please... Please stay.” He pleads. You sigh, removing his hand from you. “I can’t keep doing this Mike…” You say, finally turning towards him. He has a guilty look on his face, and he suddenly can’t seem to look at you. “I... I didn’t mean it..” He slurs, his face tipped towards the ground. 
You sit down next to him, your eyebrows raised. “You didn’t mean what..?” You question. “You know. What I said earlier. I do want you in my life…” He says, his eyes tracing the floorboards. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Mike, you’re drunk.” He shakes his head, finally making eye contact. “I swear. I do. I mean.. just look at you. I treated you like dirt and you’re still helping me? You’re just.. so.. so nice.” You frown, wishing so badly he was sober. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” He reaches out, his warm hand cupping your face. His eyes bore into yours as he speaks. “I’m not ever going to lie to you again. I promise.” You’re not sure exactly what he means by “again” but you brush it off, chalking it up to more alcohol-induced rambles. 
You stand up, Mike’s hand leaving your face and falling back to his lap. “I’m going to get you a glass of water, okay?” He nods, following your every move and watching you as you walk around his kitchen. 
Your eyes begin dancing around every framed picture he has and every drawing Abby made he has clipped to the fridge. Your eyes settle on a picture of you, him, and Abby at an amusement park, almost exactly a month before he left you. You pick it up, your thumb rubbing over the scratches in the frame. That trip was unforgettable. That was the day you knew he’d be the one you’d spend the rest of your life with. You couldn’t imagine a world without him or Abby. You put it back, wondering why he still has it. 
You fill up a glass, taking it back over to him. He drinks it in one gulp and he hiccups once it’s all gone. You place your hand on his chest, slowly pushing him back to get him to lie down. He takes the hint, lying back down on the couch. Your hand lingers there for a moment too long, but you quickly tear it away when he smiles up at you. The smile is still plastered on his face as he watches you drape a blanket over him. His eyes slip shut as he turns on his side, pulling the blanket to his chin.
You look down at him for a few moments. You just don’t understand how one moment you could hate him more than anything, and the next wish everything could go back to the way it used to be. You were half of yourself without him, and just as you started to feel complete he just had to infiltrate his way back into your life. As you watch his chest rise and fall, you just can’t help but still love him. Sadly, nothing was ever going to change that. 
You slowly creep towards the door, the floorboards creaking under you. He speaks so quietly you almost don’t hear him, “There was never another girl..” You freeze and turn back to look at him. “What?” Is all you can say. He doesn’t give you any explanation for what he just grumbled. You convince yourself you’re crazy and you’re just hearing things.
That night, you don’t sleep at all. You keep replaying that moment in your head, over and over. 
“There was never another girl.”
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ribread03 · 1 day
Text
Matt Sturniolo Head cannons
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matt sturniolo x reader, use of y/n, head cannons, what I think it would be like dating Matt
warning smut talk at these bullets ◈
AN: so this is the first thing Im really putting on the internet that is from my brain lol. I've posted edits on my TikTok that's a fan page for them ri.bead03 (shameless plug here lol). But I hope you enjoy this and even if you don't I still think this is going to be fun lol.
◆ Matt really likes the outdoors so he takes you on hikes and on picnics all of them time just the two of you and nature. Taking you out to public places aren't really his thing.
◆ He loves being around you when your comfortable with who your around and seeing the true side of you. He loves hearing your true laugh and when you smile and show off your teeth.
◆ He really likes cats. All animals really-cats, dogs, fish, deer- but cats really stick out to him. you like to think it's because he relates to them and how sometimes they like to be around people and sometimes they just sleep the day away and don't see anyone at all.
◆ He loves to cuddle. He just likes to be touching or hugging you at all times. It doesn't matter what time or day or where you guys are at he's always asking you if he can hold your hand or hug you.
◆ He cant cook and you think its the cutest thing ever but he hates that he cant provide for you even tho he does in more way than one.
◆ He is always asking to talk and tell you about the way he is feeling and wanting to know what is going on in your life as well. He always wants to know why your upset or why you could be mad at him, wanting to know what he can fix about something he is doing.
◈ Matt is a switch in bed, he loves being the top and having you become a moaning mess unraveling beneath him
◈ Matt loves when you take over in bed becoming possessive and telling him what to do.
◈ Matt loves when you squirt. He loves when you make a mess with your juices praising you when you do. "you did so good for me y/n" "God you're such a good girl I could cum again just from you squirting around me"
◈ When you are the dom to Matt he loves when you ride him, he loves seeing your tits bounce as you ride him. You telling him to hold him orgasm as you ride to your high.
◈ Matt loves when you scream his name, it makes him crazy.
◆ Matt loves driving you around and taking you from store to store, even if he stays in the car he refuses to let you pay when you go out. He is always handing you his card saying "no limit" "go crazy babe". He loves to spoil you rotten.
◆ When Matt goes out to film a Friday video he always makes sure to text you when they get to the parking lot, when they start and stop filming, and when they are on the way home.
◆ (if you read) Matt loves going to the book store with you. He likes the calm atmosphere and calming smell of books. He's always buys the ones you touch even if you put them down he's asking " are you sure princess? I don't mind getting it." He will always take the books from you and carry them around the store for you and all the way out to the car as well.
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AN pt. 2: Ok I hope you guys liked that lol. also if you want any of these kinda turned into a fic I will try my best with that lol. let me know what you think, if anything could be improved and what not. OKAY BYE LOVE YOU! thank you for reading :) :)
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dilvuc · 2 days
Note
Hi I'm Liam and I came up with a cute idea that I hope you can write
Jamil and Reader (Male) make a bet with each other and the loser has to do what the winner says. When Jamil loses the bet reader decides that he gets to do Jamils hair and he has to wear the style for the entire school day. Jamil aspects that it's gonna end up really bad but reader actually does a really good job and Jamil starts asking reader to do his hair ever once in a while
That's my idea. If you don't wanna write it you don't have to but I hope you do. Anyways make sure to take care of yourself and get plenty of sleep.
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A cute picture I found on pinterist of Jamil 🙂
❝BET❞
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𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: fluff
𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗: male
𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖑𝖊: bet
𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: jamil x m!reader
𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: none
𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: jamil lost a bet to you and now had to listen to what you say. however, your order isn't that bad.
“Look like I lost the bet. Ok, what do you have for me?” jamil asked you, awaiting your order. you thought to yourself then snap your finger, “Let me do your hair.”
“Eh? My hair? Why?” the tan skinned male asked while stroking his hair. you nodded, “I couldn't resist trying to do your pretty hair.”
“...! M…my hair isn't that pretty…” jamil blushed.
“Plus, you'll be keeping your hair in the way I put it for the whole day.” thanks for ruining the mood for jamil, you. the tan skinned male unbraided his hair and untied his hair, letting it fall back, “Ok…Do your worst.”
“What do you mean by that??” you sweatdropped. you remember watching rapunzel back in your world. so, you know exactly what hairstyle you'll give him. you reach for jamil's lock, realizing how soft it is. “Soft…”
“H-hey, don't be a creep…” jamil shivered.
“I wasn't!” you huffed before getting to work. it didn't take long for you to finish his hair. you were hoping that he would like it. since you knew that he would look pretty in it. “Done~”
“If you screwed up my hair, I'm gonna make you eat more spice until you're unable to handle it.” jamil threatened you. you deadpanned, “Is that a threat…?”
the tan skinned male grabbed the mirror from you to check his hair. and…it was all that bad. why does it make him feel…?
“Beautiful…” you grinned, catching jamil off guard. he turned to you in question. you chuckled, “I wouldn't want to screw up your hair. I just wanted to do your hair because I have been desperate to do it. Do you like it?”
“...I…it's not half bad…” jamil blushed. “But…do I look beautiful with my hair like this?”
“Silly question. You still look beautiful in whatever hairstyle you have.” you winked.
“...! Heh. Your charm never ends…” the tan skinned male smiled timidly, looking away. you snickered, “Now, you can walk around with your hair like that for today.”
jamil shyly asked, “C…can you do my hair every once in a while?”
“Sure~” you nodded.
“Whoa! Jamil! Your hair looks pretty!” kalim beamed as he gently grabbed jamil's braid. “We should add some accessories in them!”
“Good idea~ Some beautiful flowers and gold.” you smile at kalim’s idea. jamil sweatdropped, “Eh? W-wait!”
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“Wow…I must admit. Your hair looks…gorgeous.” vil complimented the tan skinned male's hair. “Look at the accessories. Who did your hair?”
“[Y]...” jamil blushed, gently stroking his hair, “I lost a bet, so he suggested that he can do my hair.”
vil blinked owlishly, “Oh? Maybe I should ask him to do mine. Not bad for a potato.”
╰┈➤ author note: please note that this is a slow update. i will still accept your request, but it will take a while since i'll be working on my books on wattpad. if you wish to read those books, here's my wattpad account.
twst masterlist
rules
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deathdaydungeon · 3 days
Note
Hey. I hope you're doing well. Are you still planning on updating Dealer? More importantly how are you doing now? I hope everything is good with you! I miss you.
I miss you too, fam - it's been a horribly long road. 💚💚💚
Unfortunately, I am very poorly at the moment. I do intend to continue Dealer but I am a long way off being well enough to do so; I'm not even at work at the moment, so have definitely taken a backward step in 2024 😥
Hopefully there's a miracle cure around the corner. I'm not quite at the point of sending you all bullet points of what the rest of the plot was meant to be, but maybe that's in my future if something doesn't change 🤣
I appreciate you checking in; hope all is going ok with you 💚
Also @alwayssnilysworld - you left me some beautiful comments on Dealer and @alwaysthehbp sent me some too, and I very much appreciated reading them as they came into my inbox. I'm really sorry I haven't been well enough to reply, but they meant the world 💚💚💚 (and I will reply when I get a bit better).
It really does make me feel happy to know that people are still reading and enjoying the story, despite it currently sitting on hiatus.
Hopefully my next update will be happier, but in the meantime, much love to you all. 💚💚💚
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solradguy · 2 days
Note
I can’t believe I missed “the Ky Kiske is cool, actually” posting…
I frequently read stuff about him that mischaracterizes him. I saw someone say Sol was right and Ky is lame. I always thought that Sol just said that to Ky’s face but respected Ky?? Is that not the case or do people not just read subtext. Anyway, Ky Kiske is cool actually.
It's ok we can keep the posting going
Sol's views towards other characters is more often than not shown through his actions instead of his words, and his words typically go opposite of what his actions are saying because he's a grumpy recluse with bad social skills haha
For example, if Sol thought Ky was lame and not worth the dirt stuck to his boots, then why did he agree to look after Sin for him? He doesn't owe Ky anything, he certainly didn't owe Sin anything in that moment. But he does it anyway. His only comment when Ky asked him was, “You're not going to complain about how he grows up, will you?" (from UNPARALLELED CONFESSION from the GG2O Material Collection)
He also fought and worked alongside Ky during the Crusades and saw both how hard Ky fought Gears and how hard he fought to try to make the world a better place off the battlefield. Sol had plenty of rude remarks during all of that, but he still worked with Ky. He didn't kill Ky either. Which he very well could have done at any moment if he genuinely hated him or thought he was annoying or whatever.
By Xrd they're basically friends. Ky even keeps a bottle of liquor (whiskey..?) in his desk just in case Sol stopped by lol Ky was also able to keep Sol from ripping Asuka a new one after Asuka had explained some Aria stuff to Sol. (Xrd Revelator, Cause A) If Sol didn't have at least some respect for Ky then he would have just thrown him aside and gone back into the room to fight Asuka. Asuka's responsible for almost everything that went wrong in Sol's life. He would have been very justified in going back in there, except he listened to Ky and cooled off instead.
People too often take what the characters are saying at too high a face value, I think
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Note
I don't know what i should be saying but can i maybe request a part 2 for the yan nuevellete omfg his name its been so long and i cant remember it with the fisherman post sorry if its bad my social skills are trash🥹
ah it's ok and yes his name is very ridiculous lol, sorry this took so long, not sure if you're still interested in reading my content but i tried my best to make this one nice for you :]
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Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including kidnapping, mentions of reader having a fishhook stuck in them, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!
Neuvillette is fascinated by what he’s seeing, the sand shifting from soft and loose to tightly packed together and damp from the rolling waves. Normally he would’ve been more mindful to not sully his attire, but right now his attention was on the individual to whom his melusines seemed so attentive.
It’s not surprising that the melusines are so desperate to help, the kind creatures were always the first to lend a hand or rather a paw when they could. But what did surprise Neuvillette, more so than the fish hook, was the creature it was stuck to. Approaching the group, Neuvillette makes his way through the small crowd as gently as he could. 
His heart nearly stops when he finally lays eyes on you, your hair still damp with seawater as you try to hold still. The hook is nearly removed by now, but the mark it left behind will surely be permanent.
“I was under the impression that all fishkin were extinct. We have not seen any of you on land in… in decades.” Neuvillette can barely mask the awe in his voice, his eyes flickering over every detail of your form. He can’t believe that he’s actually seeing a real fishman with his eyes, for decades the dragon had believed them to no longer exist, just as every other person living in Fontaine.
“Not extinct, we just stay under the water.” Neuvillette is impressed to hear this, while fishman have always been incredible, they must’ve gone through years of evolutionary changes to be able to survive in such depths. This only draws in more questions and curiosities though. If they were so intent on staying underwater then what was this one doing on land? Surely they wouldn’t dare come close enough to land to get caught in such a simple fishing hook?
Seeing you up close and in person doesn’t nearly curb as much curiosity as Neuvillette would like, so it’s no surprise that he finds some excuse to keep you around for longer. He says he needs you to come into the city with him to file a proper report on what happened, after all this was protected land, there should not have been any fishing gear brought around. 
Neuvillette has no intentions of just letting you return to the sea though, instead, he finds some excuse to invite you back to his home, wherein he introduces you to your new place of residence. He’s no monster, he allows you to stay in the pool room where you can dive into the depths of the pool, but until he has satiated his need for knowledge, he is determined to keep you.
It’s sort of the same feeling of having a new little pet, the desire to want to spend every second with them, watching and learning and playing. He understands your frustration, smiling fondly to himself as you sit at the bottom of the pool, pouting. But he simply can’t find it in himself to be sorry. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and he’d be foolish to let it pass him by.
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chantiying · 4 hours
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You have a new message, would you accept it?
How to choose? Take a deep breath, close your eyes, think about that/those person/people you have something inconclusive with (if you can't think about anyone it's ok, dw) then choose the image that calls to you better
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1 2 3
Before to start, sorry for any mistakes or grammar error. English is not my first language
Remember tarot is not set on stone and you can change your path whenever you want. This is for entertainment purposes
This reading is general so if it doesn't resonate with you just let it go
Option 1
I know you're still upset about the way all of this happened. I know you don't understand why I had to go away. You think I let you alone and I didn't really care about it. I know you think I was selfish all I did was look out for my own good. I know you keep blaming me for the things I did to our family. I know that, even if I say to you my reasons they are still just excuses to your ears. I needed to walk away, I was tired. It was the best, it was fair. I had to understand who am I, I had to mature but it doesn't matter anymore, does it?
I'll be back, any moment. I know that hearing that scars you a lot, I know it bothers you "go back?" "For what?" "To destroy all the the life I built in your absence?" Yeah, I break your heart, I was the person you trusted the most , I broke our little world, I broke us, and you are still afraid of trusting in me again, but could you give me another chance? Take your time to respond my petition. I promise I'll understand if you don't want to see me again, but I'm serious about that I want to make things work for us this time.
For some of you, this could be a male figure in your family.
Two more messages for you.
Take a rest, honey. You don't have to be the one who is always fixing everything. The solution for the pain you're feeling right now is not overexerting yourself. Don't worry, things gonna be ok.
This could be from someone who passed away.
The last message could be an ex lover
Something that ended because of people talking in your back, hidden secrets that came to light. Tbh, I feel that this person don't have any interest in fix anything. Maybe they are happy that all of that happened and the way it all ended.
Additional information.
I feel like in this pile there's a lot of young energy. Maybe that person was too young or the separation occurred when both of you where young or you were young when all of this happened.
I feel that for some of you the root of all your failed relationships is because of the message of the first person
Maybe you've been suffering from sore throat or neck pain and I feel that it could be because you don't know have to express your emotions. It's ok to cry and scream, if you feel like crying, just do it, everything will be alright, ok?
Option 2
I feel like this person is upset or mad. Probably the relationship ended because of an argument. One of you was not in their best moment (maybe one of you passed or is passing through depression or anxiety)
I had to go, it was for the better. This, the thing we had it had neither head nor foot. I do accept we had a lot of good memories, you were my sun, but it doesn't mean we were meant to be. Do you know what? Sometimes, when I think about us, the first memories that came to my mind are those where I felt tied to you. We were going to nowhere. We had different paths, different dreams, different goals. I actually think we share the blame in this one, and, I still blame you for the kind of love you gave to me. It was too suffocating. It was like when you water a flower, you know what I mean? You were drowning me. I needed to make a decision, the better for me, and I don't regret doing it
This could be a past friendship
This is another message it could be from a female figure.
Don't be silly. You need to be less immature and spoiled. Will you realize at some point that you are being your own worst enemy? I know you're thinking about me like a killjoy or like i'm bitter, but my only wish is for you to open your eyes and put your feet on the ground. Do you remember when you were happy only with what you had? Do you remember when you played with all your friends and relatives? Do you remember all the scenarios you imagined and all of those were easy to resolve just with laughs and superpowers? I want you to be that little kid again. I want to hear your laugh until your belly hurts. I want you to be more kind with yourself and with the others. I want you to let go whatever its making you feel bad. I want you to start dancing by your own, my love.
Some of you have a nickname inspired on nature "sun" "bunny" "peach" "twinkle" or you have a name related to flowers or stars.
I feel like some of you either are emotionally unstable or feel a little too much.
Maybe you are fan of Taylor Swift and like the rain
Option 3
I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for being the villain of your story. I feel so sorry for stealing your confidence. I'm so sorry because I know I'm the reason of your nightmares/insomnia. I'm sorry you don't feel good enough and all of that is my fault. It's horrible to be the person who hurt the one who most loved me. You were my wish came true. You were the madness I needed to keep me sane, it doesn't make sense, does it? I could have done better, I know. I'd have done better to give you all the things you deserve. I guess it's too late to own up to my mistakes. Now I've lost you
I don't want you to forgive me (maybe I do want to) I want to tell you that I love the person you are now. All of that is because of YOU. I just destroyed you. You had to pass through a lot. Sometimes I wish I could talk to you. Would you give me an opportunity? All the fights, all the arguments, all the screaming and crying. I'm so sorry, I'm really really sorry. I know I took you away from me. If it's worth it, I also wake up at night thinking I could have done better
I love you, I always have
I don't want to wreck your plans. I don't want to turn your world upside down. Am I being greedy for saying that I miss you? I know I'm the king of victimized myself, I'm aware of that. I'll try to change for better, even if it doesn't matter anymore. I have what I deserve and I hope you get what you deserve for loving someone who didn't know how to love you in return
This could be an ex lover but it could be a person who took "care" of you when you were a child too
Let your inner child to heal. Play with them, enjoy and do the things you want to do but you don't do for fear of being judged
This is my first reading, hope you all like it.
I have a plan for you! What if you choose some animated movies, cartoons you liked when you were a child and enjoy your evening watching them?
You're so brave and strong, I admire you, keep going
I feel like you have a good taste on music
This is my first reading, hope you all like it
Alic (Chanty) 🪽
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You Belong To Me - LN
Dark fic - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
In honour of Lando driving around Monaco blasting Taylor Swift but...it's dark and much more twisted 😁 Also this one is shorter than the others...but I hope you still like it 😅😭
Summary: Y/n doesn't really like feeling like Lando owns her. Lando knows he owns her and he likes to leave a mark/evidence.
Themes/warnings: Possessiveness, marking, smut/somnophilia (requested), drugging
No part 2 requests please
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Lando doesn't care if y/n feels like property with him, as far as he's concerned he does own her and he treats her pretty damn well in giving her a life that millions of others could only dream of.
He sighs tracing the very light bruises on her hips, he didn't mean to hold her that tightly and she always promises she doesn't feel any pain in the moment. Which sort of means he doesn't feel the need to not leave those marks. In fact he loves seeing them.
"You know one day someone is going to see those and they're going to ask if I'm ok."
"And you'll tell them the truth. That you're better than ok." Lando smiles completely uncaring. "I don't care if other people see them anyway, then they know who you belong to me."
Y/n sighs having given up on that argument with Lando and somewhat accepted her role in that he does own her. Everything in her life is paid for by him, the roof over her head, travel, clothes, food, anything she needs he just goes for it.
Despite the dislike of feeling like he owns her. She does finding herself wanting his touch, maybe not so much the marks that come with it. But when she feels him touching her, there's a sort of settling inner peace that sits in her chest over the feeling of him there with her.
"They could see much worse." Lando states and while it sounds sinister it's nothing of more bruises unless you count the gentle bites, none of which actually hurt or swollen lips from heavy kisses. "Anyway, next time you don't want there to be evidence you belong to me. Don't go chatting to some random men in the paddock and let them flirt with you."
Again. Better not to argue. Lando won't accept that he's wrong. Arguing about it is only frivolous.
"I love you." Y/n states instead making the young man smile at her.
"I love you too baby and I always will.” Lando smiles gently taking hold of her throat and using the position to turn her head and pull her into a kiss. “Now find something nice to wear. I’ve got padel with Max, George and Alex. I want you there.”
Aka he doesn’t like that she was “flirting” with some guys in the paddock and now she’s not allowed out his sight until he decides otherwise. Usually it’s a good couple months in which he refuses to let her be anywhere without him unless he’s working in which case there’s one of three occurrences.
1. She’s locked in the apartment, the hotel or his house back in England. All dependent on where they are.
2. She’s condemned to feigning illness and staying in his drivers room for “rest” while he’s busy
3. She can sit in the garage, usually as he’s easing up with his control over her every move
It’s sounds bad because it is, but at some point the option to leave was also beyond her control and completely within his control.
The two get up, despite y/n just wanting to stay in bed. The urge to keep him in a good mood gives her the motivation to push herself up and out of the bed.
She pulls on a tennis skirt and polo top that fits tight to her skin. Finally she shoves on some AF1s because who can go wrong with them? (i actually own 5 pairs and just bought another pair bc…i can)
“You look nice baby.” Lando states appearing behind her with a heavy gaze and low voice.
"Thank you." Y/n smiles lightly feeling his hands fall to her waist, perfectly placed over the marks he's left there through her clothes.
-
Lando loves how y/n looks when she's asleep, so peaceful and soft and actually quite happy. He's sure she smiles more in her sleep than she does when she's awake.
Especially when she's been...aided in her sleep.
Lando doesn't like to label it as drugging, because she takes it with the knowledge of what's going to happen. She knows what she'll wake up to and even in the early days when she tried to voice her dislike of his marks and possessiveness, when he first drugged her, she never fought him on it.
Her body shivers subconsciously at the feel of the cool air from being exposed from the blanket. Goosebumps raising on her skin as she lets out a sigh, as if she'd considered fighting to be awake for a moment but gave up as soon as the thought passed her.
He leans over, kissing down her body before he reaches her pussy and is overcome with the need to just devour her.
Unbeknownst to her, much like she's become addicted to his touch, he's addicted to the taste of her and he'd happily drown in it.
Y/n is certainly more sensitive and somehow easier to please when she's asleep, it's almost as if not being conscious and able to focus makes it so much easier to accept the pleasure.
But there's nothing better than just pushing inside of her, he's in a state of ecstasy. Though that's no different to usual.
"Fuck, baby." Lando groans beginning to thrust in and out of her.
Whines pass her lips before she clearly begins to edge towards an orgasm of her own, her back arches up and her pussy practically sucks him in, pulsing around him and triggering his own as he fills even ounce of cum he has spill into her in a hot rush.
Y/n lets out a breathy moan followed by a whine when he pulls out, a heavy feel of satisfaction.
He could easily go again, in a few minutes, and just leave her stuffed full by the time she wakes up.
So that's exactly what he does before finally feeling spent and almost in pain so he gets up and leaves the drugs to wear off.
It takes till the late afternoon before y/n finally stirs awake, groaning at the gentle ache of her body. Out of habit, she reaches down feeling the crusted and dried cum that's leaked out onto her thighs.
She curses at herself for feeling herself for being turned on by it. Anyone else would feel used and taken advantage of. But Lando's moulded y/n to be the way he wants her, which is compliant to his every want and need. No matter how extreme. The fact she's not just compliant but finds herself attracted to him more for it, is just a nice addition.
Eventually she gets up, wrinkling her nose at urge to actually just spend the rest of the day lying in bed and not moving.
"Hey...I was wondering when you'd be up." Lando smiles as she appears in one of his hoodies, covering up just enough that she's not surprised when Lando's hand moves up her inner thigh when she leans over to give him a kiss.
"I was going to shower and then head down tot he shop to grab something to eat.
"Is it ok if I shower and go down to the shop for something to eat?"
"You don't need to shower right now, just go down to the shop, it's not far." Lando states with a smile making her refrain from grimacing. He really wants her to go out with his cum very much present in and on her body. "Grab my card and just throw some of my joggers on. You'll only be quick."
Y/n smiles and nods then leaning down to kiss him again.
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noxious-fennec · 4 months
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A redraw of an old thing because exam season is the only time i get creative energy ig
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I've been reading Exodus lately and I've just gotten to the portions where God gives the first commands to the people via Moses (twice), and then goes on to give detailed instructions about the tabernacle and how it should be built, and I'm just... we think art is unimportant?? we think things only mean as much as their functionality?? we so easily fall into the trap of believing that beauty means nothing, that it's cheap and only worth whatever mindless distraction it brings, that it's barely more than a cheap sensual thrill, that buildings should just be practical and plain and cheap, that everything should be functional but ultimately disposable, that paintings and dresses and mugs and curtains and carpets are just pretty but have no real value, that beauty is fleeting and vain and therefore shouldn't be thought about too much, if even looked for at all... we fall into these traps so easily, and we forget that there are chapters upon chapters of painstakingly detailed plans to build one portable worship tent, and those plans have been handed down through thousands of years of human history, because beauty and art and skill in craft is important
#I have to go get ready for work now but I will come back to this#and don't even get me started on the parts about God calling specific craftsmen *by name*#he called them!! by name!!! he said 'this man is good at his job. he creates beautiful work. he will build my temple and make it beautiful'#and even more--God inspired him!!!! it was a calling of GOD for him to create beautiful carvings and tapestries and candlesticks!!!#look even if you're not jewish or christian or religious at all you have GOT to see what it means that all these incredibly detailed plans#for building this tent-temple are extremely important#because even if you don't believe in God and don't think that this is all significant bc he personally gave the instructions#and then helped preserve this record of them so we could still read them today#you do have to see how important they were to the people of that time who first wrote them down#and the extreme care that was taken to record all of those detail#AND the fact that it's been preserved for so long and we can still read all the care that was put into creating this incredible piece#of artwork and worship they made#gurt says stuff#I just. gahhfhhfj. I'm feeling emotional about chapters of the Bible that I can't even fully force myself to pay attention to#bc there's so MUCH and I'm bad at visualizing this stuff and I tend to zone out while listening to it#but the fact that it IS that much!!! that there SO MUCH DETAIL and it goes on for SO LONG that I even struggle to pay attention!!!#that this was THAT IMPORTANT to the people who wrote it and to God!!! as an artist and someone who has always cared about art#this means so much to me ok#christianity#bible verse#bible thoughts#exodus#art#theology
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wellthatschaotic · 1 year
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whenever i see someone who is like "yes but [x] isnt as oppressed as [y]!!" or "[x] is widely accepted now!!" as a way to like. disregard queer people's experiences. i'm just like. have you been outside? have you been in the real world?
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bogkeep · 10 months
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is it really plausible that i, a bundle of neuroses barely held together with duct tape, could have Anxiety for real
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