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frmisnow · 2 months

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✧˖ ?!— TWO WHORES IN A ROOM, THEY MIGHT KISS. - (SUGGSTV.)

— ‧₊˚ — 🎸: "punch me in the gut, might be the only chance you'd ever have at wrecking my insides ??"

summary. having a lil punching sesh with the arrogant man-whore you oh so despised was not an easy game but def. a fun one at that !

notes. i don't know boxing like thattt so if this sounds a lil stupid i'm sry 😭😭 anyways boxer jk???? SJSPAAKMP

warnings/includes. (MDNI) non idol! jungkook x f! reader, hate fuck if you squint, enemies to lovers??? kinda, DEGRADING from both sides, slut, whore + man-whore mentioned, grinding

you don't know how long you've been circling around eachother, throwing insults left and right - yet nobody had landed the first punch yet. "you know for a man who keeps on yapping about being the best boxer in this shitplace, you're pretty damn scared of me" your eyes never leaving his, box gloves so tight around your hands, your tone sweet in that mocking tone, "you know you've got a pretty big mouth for somebody who claims they're not a slut" he responded no chalently as you didn't even shiver or visably reacted to the insult.

"you sound like you'd die to feel my precious mouth on you" you pouted sarcastically, the circle continuing once again.

"is that a threat or an invitation?" another one-liner fired back, your eyes narrowing - he may look serious but you know he's enjoying every second of this.

and right then and there- in the second he was waiting for you to reply, unfocused for just a split second you throw the first punch.

you immediately bring your fist back, landing a decent hook across his jaw. his head is forced back and eyes widened as he's obviously surprised, though he doesn't react much to the hit. he seems to quickly regain his composure and his eyes narrow sharply, a grin sneaking it's way onto his face: "well what do you know, the pussycat can fight"

it frustrated you that he wasn't fighting back - like you weren't deserving of a punch or two in the first place, like all you were deserving of were little mind games to rile you up but if he could play the game, you could too.

"no fucking shit, i've won more this year then you could dream of, you're just a man whore who thinks having abs and chicks on your dick are personality traits"

his eyes widen just a tiny bit and for a split second you feel you can see actual anger in him, before it's quickly replaced with a sly smirk as he's trying to play cool. he steps forward, getting so close and in your personal space to look taller on purpose, to tower you- to make you look weak, smaller, inferior to him - looking down at you, leaning in even closer and staring right into your eyes.

"you're a lot more fun when you're pissed off you know that?" he looks down a bit more and raises his eyebrows suggestively, "i just have to find the right buttons to press on you"

you're unaffected on the outside, he hasn't even reached any territory that could actually hurt your feelings - "you awfully sound like your talking about my tits, even in your mind there's an image of me permanently printed in, you can't stop thinking of me- you might need to get that chronical sexual obssesion checked at a doctor, that unhealthly ego might as well too"

jungkooks jaw tightens as you can see he's biting his tongue, trying to not react to your insult. looking down again, not saying anything for few seconds as he's processing the response. you can see him trying to not smirk in the corner of his mouth as he's trying to find an insult to answer back-

you took just the time: "huh? did that hurt? does the little pussyeater-for-a-living feel offended? do i need to bring you back to your mommy?" in a whiny tone like you're mimicking him yet still so insanely mocking.

kook tried his very best to sound calm and unbothered but his neck veins were already visable, a little frown on his face as well, ""i think i'm starting to actually get irritated"

"what? like it's hard?" you held eye contact with him without a problem, tension oh so heavy then adding, "c'mon punch me in the gut, might be the only chance you'd ever have at wrecking my insides"

he gets even closer, so close that his forehead is touching yours, still making that suggestive smirk as you see his jaw is clenched so tight. "i'd love to beat that pretty face of yours," he utters at last.

"oh but then there'd be no face for the men to kiss, is that what you want- oh, is our little kook jealous?"

his voice gets raspy and low, "jealous?" eyes remaining on yours ´, not breaking away even just once till he whispers (though there weren't even any people in the training room you both were in) like he was talking personally to you, he was trying to get under your skin: "you think a pathetic little whore like you would make me jealous?"

you're not hurt- not at all, i mean- if you were a slut, he was just the same. jungkook just had to little of reflecting skills or general understanding to coprehend just that- you punched him onto his stomach, him now stumbling just a bit now on more of a distance from you.

you can see he's struggling to not fall down from the impact of the blow. he clutches his abdomen, looking away from you to not let you see just how effective it wasbafter his lungs get the chance to refill with oxygen, he utters words with more passion than before, trying to mask the pain, "pathetic little whore, i thought you were better than this. but i guess you should stick to the dick, you can't fight like a man"

you roll your eyes at his tiny tries of regaining control: "your jaw that i punched just a few minutes ago says something else, c'mon knock me down- i bet you'd love to just be on top of me yet you're to afraid to even just fight and that's what i call pathetic"

that's where you reached his ego's final straw, lunging forward in rage knocking you down in a turn of events and pinning you to the ground, trying his absolute best to hold you down.

he's basically sitting on your body middle, straddling you in a way, you grinned like you weren't even afraid of him on top or you on the ground obviously you could feel his cock pressing hard against you "oh you got such a boner it's funny"

you saw him play with his left lip ring just how he always did when he was particulary focused, responding: "oh don't act so high and mighty, i bet you ruined your damn panties by now"

now you were the one silent, you truly didn't knew what to respond as.. he was right, fuck- maybe this turned you on more than you thought.

seeming a bit amused by that, his smirk becoming a cocky grin as he starts speaking again, in even more suggestive tone, "what's wrong, little slut? you're not even denying it"

he grinded onto you just a little, just so little against your core that it brought just the tiniest bit of pleasure but left you yearning for more, faster, harder leaving you to put your hands onto his hips, hands looking relatively small on his body.

he looks at you from his position, a mischievous smile on his lips as he moves his hips some more in a slow, grinding motion, while blabbering on and on, "not even i thought it was gonna be so easy to top you"

he tried his best to hide a moan by laughing that only half-working, hips continuing to grind onto you, bringing his lips to your neck, mumbling against the soft skin:

"i won"

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leclsrc · 11 months

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well deserving of 3k (and more), your stories literally bring me comfort, even the sad ones🫶🏻

could we have an angst one with Charles (with a happy ending?) maybe with the tiredness drabble

what you know – cl16

In the grand scheme of things, Charles doesn't know much, but he's sure of one thing.

auds here... scheduled bec i am off my phone lately! love u anon sry so late

Your moving away is a big deal—a garage sale for all the things you’d grown out of, a weekly schedule for everyone to help out, Arthur assigning himself to track the flight to JFK to make sure you “don’t crash on the way there.” You assure him you won’t. Pascale emails the exchange program six times a day to make sure your housing is all ironed out. Lorenzo mixes the color to repaint your room and sorts out your mum’s CDs.

Charles, however, wants nothing to do with it.

The usual route to your house feels so much longer now. He hates having to drive knowing you won’t be inside soon enough. But Pascale absolutely insists he help out last-minute, so two days before your flight, he drives the five minutes to your house and trods through the piles of boxes and luggage collecting at the bottom of the stairwell. The inside of your room, however, is more of the same; boxes, boxes, and a bed in the middle, already stripped bare.

He doesn’t say hi. He picks up a sweater and goes straight to—

“It is going to be awful,” he says, trying to lift his voice so it passes as a joke even if you both know there’s more truth to it than he intends. “You are going to have a shit time and your housing will leak and you’ll step on a rat.” He stares at the intricate stitching on your knit sweater as he awaits your response, which he expects—from years and years of knowing you—to be equally snarky and sarcastic.

“What do you know?” is what he hears instead, leaving your lips in a weak whisper.

Your hands freeze where they’re wound around Charles’ half-folded tee, the one you wear to sleep most nights, worn thin. You’re waiting for him to reply, to tell you what he knows. It’s your way of telling him to stop, stop trying to make me leave, because I am leaving and you cannot change that. He can’t bring himself to meet your eyes, so he stares at the pale knit, then your hands. You’re right—what does he know? He’s twenty-one, for Chrissake, he doesn’t know much at all.

He hasn’t been to New York, and relies on viral myths and preceded reputations to tarnish its image in your eyes. He hasn’t been in a student exchange program and relies on his ability to exaggerate stories to somehow scare you into not going. For all his trying, he actually knows nothing about either of those things. So in that respect, he’ll digress, fine—he doesn’t know anything.

But he knows a thing or two about loss, about loss and terrible goodbyes and leaving. He knows almost nothing, but knows it’s ripping him in half to have to say goodbye to you. He knows his heart’s been at its feet for you since it could stand, and not in the unexpected, almost accidental way. He knows he’s felt for you with deep intention, on purpose, like it’s all he was ever made to do. That, he knows. He loves that he knows. There was never a stunning realization, the stuff of movies—there was just a quiet settling with something he’d felt since forever.

Here, surrounded by boxes taped shut and pried open, he wishes he’d settled earlier. He wishes he told you earlier. Maybe he wouldn’t have changed anything, but at least you would’ve known then. At least then he wouldn’t be the clueless prick shit-talking New York in front of his visibly excited best friend. He grows the guts to meet your eyes then, finds they’re already staring into his.

You wait for a response. And it comes. “I know I love you.”

A smile brings itself to your lips, and you shake your head with mild disbelief. “Well,” you say, setting aside the tee and climbing closer toward him. “I know that, too.” You’ve known since you were six and he doused your hair with blue hairspray—since he ate half the cake on your eighth birthday—since he bought you a cake the year next—since he grew up and started racing and wrote you daily emails.

You lean closer, until your faces are just shy of each other’s. Then you hug him, like you’ve been waiting to touch him for years, with a quickness that roars desperation and yearning. Your arms wind around his neck and his around your waist, and you let a few rogue tears fall despite yourself, wiping them before he can see when you pull apart.

“You’re going to be okay.” He says, assuring himself more than you.

“So will you.” You smile. “Come visit, okay?”

A hand finds yours underneath the pile of clothes and, hidden from view, intertwines your fingers. You squeeze. This is new, uncharted territory you’ll admit you know nothing about, no matter how soft and warm it all feels. But, as it turns out, you have time—and you have Charles, whose green eyes you fell for long, long ago.

#f1 #leclsrc3000 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #f1 x reader

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tinypixl · 6 months

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Inspired by Vrelnir saying that Harper was originally supposed to track down asylum escapee PC's on the blogspot a while ago, so here's a lil scene for how I imagine this could have gone (with a tiny sprinkle of wish fulfillment✨)

@pip-n-chips come get yo food, this was motivated by you digging up that old-ass ask 👀

Warnings/Additional Info: m!Harper, no smut sry, Harper being Harper, stalking, vomit mention, wobbly writing, implied past/future SA, traumatized PC, drugs, kidnapping, a tiny sprinkle of yandere

"...And remember, ladies and gentlemen," Harper said sternly, his hands folded behind his back: "You are dealing with a very disturbed and possibly confused individual that is quite capable of harming others as well as themselves."

Harper now finally turned to face the group of orderlies behind him with an unreadable expression. He paused for a few seconds, letting his words set in before continuing: "That being said, it is of upmost importance that you do not underestimate the patients intellectual capacity," Harpers expression remained unreadable but he visibly clenched his teeth, remembering how he himself had so stupidly miscalculated that sharp wit of yours.

"...Especially not after the incident that they caused a few days ago, which started this whole situation in the first place. The ones of you working in the asylum will know the full extend."

Some of the orderlies exchanged confused glances, the others knew better.

Harper turned around again and took a few steps forward. He stopped infront of a desk and picked up a piece of paper. It was a poster. A poster of you, with glazed, terror-stricken eyes. It had been taken when you first came to the asylum, now printed out as a warning to the townfolk (at least, that's the excuse he used in this case all the time: the safety of the townfolk...)

He inspected it incrediously, before swiftly fetching it as he spoke up once more: "I not only want you to be on the lookout for anyone entering and leaving the Nightingale hospital, I want you to keep an eye on the whole town, especially on Domus street. We've talked about the benefits those who'll retrieve this patient will recieve."

Harper looked upon that beautiful poster of yours once more before turning his head towards the orderlies one last time, the soft smile he usually wears had returned to his features.

"That was all, don't forget it," he remarked mannerly but one would've been reckless to ignore the discreet undertone of his voice.

"You are dismissed."

Orderlies began to shuffle out of the room. Harper made sure to wait until the last one left, the door slamming close before he returned his attention to the poster.

The dark room was dead quiet now with the only light peaking in through the thin lines of the shut blinds.

Harpers thumb gently brushed over the cheek of your image as he only took in your haunted expression for a moment. Then, he moved his arm to put it back on the desk again but stopped short of it's surface. Instead, he folded it three times and put it in the right pocket of his doctor's coat for later. It's not the first copy he lended for personal use but it's okay, he made enough for it not to make a difference.

To his suprise, he actually found himself feeling quite giddy today. It was certainly a big improvement from last weeks mood.

That being said, he still chastised himself for his embarrassing underestimation of your character. After all, it was extremely significant for his profession to be wary and watchful. But you were always so unassuming. Harper had carelessly mistaken your quietness as flustered shyness, maybe even submission. A mistake, that had made him want to rip his hair out when it finally hit him.

Your mind's stubborn refusal of his hypnosis attempts should've been a major red flag for that but then again, you'd never made the impression of an unruly patient who was plotting something. You weren't really popular with the other patients, mostly keeping to yourself and studying. You never resisted the rest of the treatment, never attacked him, always looking at him with those big innocent doe eyes-

Harper slammed his hands on the desk in front of him, some of his irritation returning accompanied by an odd fluttering in his stomach.

That little plan of yours had set into motion about two months ago, he reckoned. He recalled the view in front of him, of the flimsy hospital gown barely covering your supple body and how you'd obeyed his command to sit on his lap without any protests. The way your plush thighs had pressed against his own...

He could still feel the shivers go right into his crotch thinking about it... And how you'd kissed him then... Your soft lips hungrily bruising his, wet little tongue peaking into his mouth. So eager, so devoted... He really thought then that you'd lusted for him in the same vain that he had for you for so, so long.

A shaky breath came through Harper's slightly parted mouth. He wasn't entirely sure if you'd taken his keycard then or after he had you bend over his desk but it was gone in the evening. He'd spend the entirety of that day flushed with his heart pumping, he hadn't thought much of it going missing, as he'd also visited the farm not too long after. There was a spare he'd kept after all so it didn't matter much to him, thinking it just fell out in his lust-filled stupor...

Imagine his horror when he'd gotten all the patients back under control during that incident and you were suddenly missing. He'd even been worried at first that you'd gotten attacked and were lying somewhere, hurt. The security footage disproved that rather quickly. None of the orderlies had been able to find, let alone retrieve you from the surrounding area.

He'd spend that whole evening looking for you, and the entire night looking through hours upon hours of security footage. You'd entered the security room the same evening you'd stolen his keycard. That had also been when your frequent studying habit started. Every single damn textbook you'd used had been looked through by him that night. Oh you smart, slippery little thing. You'd been trying to figure out how to manipulate the control panel all this time...

A uncharacteristic grin formed on Harper's lips, his giddiness returning. Right, you were smart and you'd tricked him. He gave you that. But you were also all alone. Sure, he couldn't really waltz into Bailey's territory to get you back, you were still his ward which he hated, he should be the one in control, it wasn't enough to desperately pull on your delicate strings-

But you also wouldn't be able to hide in the orphanage forever. Eventually, you would have to resume your everyday life and then it would only be a matter of time.

Harper glanced into the asylum's yard through the cracks of the blinds, watching all the small moving figures.

It would only be a matter of time before he got you back.

A few small knocks rang against your door. The noise didn't startle you too much anymore, you'd gotten used to it pretty quickly after coming back. Despite this, it seemed a bit different today. With how early it was you first thought that it had been Bailey but the softness of the knocks contradicted that assumption.

For another moment, you just laid there, staring up at the ceiling before exhaling and dragging yourself to your dingy bedroom door.

Through the little gap, the flickering light of the hallway as well as two big, round, sympathetic eyes greeted you. Robin. She wore that small apologetic smile, with her brows softly knitted over her eyes. You adored that expression as much as you loathed it sometimes, it made you feel so pitied...

"Hey, how are you feeling?", Robin inquired carefully.

Stuttering, you could only give her a rather vague answer: "Umm I... I d-don't know I... think I'm okay...?"

"Do you think that... Maybe you'll be able to go to school again? No pressure of course! I'm just... A bit worried that you'll maybe miss too many hours. Don't want you to get written up or anything.."

Sweat collected on your hands that you tried to wipe on your pyjama pants. Robin was right but... You were still a bit... skeptical about assuming that you're in the clear just because you escaped but you couldn't tell her that.

Robin noticed your inner tutmoil and chimed in once more: "Of course, I'd walk with you to and from school! Just like you did when I was...", she trailed off.

Your mouth felt dry, trying to force out an answer.

"... Okay. I'll get ready."

Robin beamed at you before telling you to come to her room when you were done. It's fine you figured, you couldn't hide in the orphanage forever.

It was, in fact, not fine. But you didn't figure that out soon enough, the days after you'd gone to school again running just too smoothly. Despite looking over your shoulder, you never saw anyone watching. On the third day you even felt save enough to start to go to work on your own again.

Now, hiding in an alleyway beside two dumpsters in the dead of night, you noticed your slip-up.

Your hands were clutching a poster that you had ripped off the wall behind you minutes prior and probably the reason why you were in this situation in the first place. Your face was plastered on top. On the bottom it read: 'Warning! Dangerous asylum escapee; Caution is advised' along with a number to call about your last whereabouts. You had never been a danger to other people and still weren't but you knew the truth didn't matter in this town. Not when it was so easy for someone sneaky and powerful enough to just twist it to their advantage.

It was now abundantly clear to you where the orderlies you'd ran from earlier came from. Why didn't any of those posters catch your attention before?

Quietly, you huddled further into yourself beside the two dumpsters, trying to keep it together.

The alley lead into a dead-end but maybe, just maybe you were lucky and they hadn't seen you go in. You assumed they were still searching the surrounding area, so if you were quiet enough-

"Are you certain they went this way? You haven't found any trace of them yet."

You almost choked on the air that you were trying to inhale, hands instantly clasping over your mouth as you tried to keep yourself from hyperventilating. Of course, you'd recognize that smooth almost plummy voice instantly. You briefly wondered why he'd make such a big effort of showing up himself to bring you back but then again, the poster clutched in your hands over your mouth should've been enough prove to you that he was very serious about this.

A group of footsteps ripped you out of your thoughts and made your heart jump in terror. They were still rather distant but... definitely in the alleyway you were hiding in.

"100% sure Doctor, 'seen them go in this direction myself. We've searched any possible place they might've went. They have to be in here."

Oh god, you felt like you were going to throw up. The footsteps came closer, you could hear it. The ones closest to you sounded calm as they could be. Unrushed, taking their sweet time before they suddenly stopped.

"Alright. Let me handle this.", Harper's voice rang out once more. Now you could only hear those calm, slow footsteps coming closer and closer. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes.

Your name being called out gingerly sent a cold shiver down your spine. Harper's voice had taken on a soothing tone, the same one he used to play-pretend a normal doctor, the same one he used to hypnotise people:"... You don't have to be afraid any longer. I'm here to help you!"

At this point, you had completely given up on trying to control your breathing. Instead trying to hold you breath as much as could to prevent a full-blown panic attack. Prey, you felt like cornered prey.

"Please don't make this so hard on the both of us. I can help you. You'll feel so much better with regular treatment, I promise..."

Tears now ran down your cheeks freely as it took everything in you not to sob in pure horror. Despite your heartbeat pounding in your ears you heard clearly that his voice had started to shake slightly; giddy with anticipation. You needed to get out of here... You needed to get out of here!

"Someone in your predicament shouldn't be without help for so long...", his voice became more breathy as he closed in on your hiding spot.

"We both know that I know what's best for you..", the edge of lust in it was now unmistakeable. He was getting off on this.

You bit down on your tongue, trying to still your quivering form. You'd captivated the dear doctor, so much more than you could have known that you did and now, you'd pay gravely for your mistake-

"Got you."

A bloodcurdling scream tore out of your throat when his flushed, panting face was suddenly inches away from yours. It was instantly muffled by a chloroform-drenched rag. In your adrenaline-fueled desperation, you tore on his arm and pulled him down with you.

It took Harper by suprise and he crashed down on his knees, which gave you the chance to draw in a last-minute breath before wasting no more time to get to your feet to bolt out of the alley.

Something brushed over the hood of your jacket, trying to grasp ahold of it but failing as you ran, ran, ran

right into the arms of the two orderlies, to your unfortune.

"Not so fast!", one of them commanded. You tugged against them but they have you held tightly by both arms.

The clicking sound of dress shoes against concrete rang in your ears. You lifted your head to Doctor Harper's approaching figure.

Finally, the loud sob you'd been holding in slipped from you. You started struggling even harder against the two orderlies, nauseous with pure dread.

"Easy there kid.", one of the oderlies told you but you couldn't hear them, your mind preoccupied with primal fear.

Harper steps in front of you, with his usual soft, creepy smile.

"Sshhh..." Harper gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before firmly grasping your chin. His thumb lightly stroking it.

"Don't worry, I know what you need. I know that you need me."

With that, he held the rag to your face tightly as he continued to shush your muffled cries.

His thumb never leaving the softness of your cheek until your lights went out.

#degrees of lewdity #harper the doctor #i have offically escaped from the adhd beast #ok post of the year now on to post nothing for the next six months or so

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lemongogo · 6 months

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what's your process for coloring like? the look of that elendira is so textured and interesting, i can't figure out how you do it

AA THANK YOUU ^__^ !! textures & brushwork are my favorite things abt my art, so im happy you find it interesting hehe . its SOO cool to look at & so much fun to draw imo

i prefer to color by building in layers , if that makes sense 🤔!! hundreds of them !! such that i'm always drawing on Top of previous layers, working from big & messy blocks of color to, eventually, small and refined blocks of color until it feels processed enough. as a result, i rarely ever erase (!!) and i rarely ever draw lineart aside from the initial sketch

a rough, patchy textured brush is key here, as it'll give you dimension and variability w/ your colors. i recommend "Brush and various sets of fountain pen style (万年筆風ブラシと色々セット)" on Clip Studio (ID: 1679706) !! :3

im terrible with explanations though, so i'm going to show a step by step of that elendira drawing if you dont mind :3

sketch layer !! because i mostly render through color alone, i try to make this as close to the finished thing as possible . ^__^ i hateee drawing the same thing over and over and like the expressivity and movement of my sketches anyways , so the more i can preserve at this step, the better. if u were to look at a side by side of my sketches and finished pieces, youd notice a lot of those og lines are present in the final drawing :3

2. flats !! pretty self explanatory, but the solid background gives me an idea of where the figure begins & ends while the colors themselves help distinguish whats what . i stick to ambient lighting @ this point because im usually not sure what i want to do with the overall palette or lighting yet . having two tones (ex, dark and light in her hair or dark and light on her skin) can also help in identifying key features early on that u wanna preserve. as you build layer by layer, sometimes these areas will remain untouched and i think it makes for a rly lovely feel at the end

3. start blocking !!! to be totally honest with you, i dont really know what i do here HAHAHA. like i just scribble the shit out of it, usually focusing on what i might want to do with lighting (ex: grey areas to accentuate folds in her costume). i think i like to start "erasing" the sketch where possible by coloring on top of it .. like if you look at her hat or her arm , you can tell i'm starting to get a sense of the shapes i like vs the ones i dont. it's at this point that the final image starts to emerge in my mind , like im gradually pulling her from a tarpit of scribbles until shes recognizable lol. chipping away at the marble until i can free her. tbh.

4. keep blockingg...when u think u are done , block some more . as you can probably see, the brushwork becomes more intentional as i add more shape, with specific focus on line weight. this is also where the patchiness of that textured brush comes in - notice how none of the colors seem totally uniform (ex: the red cross or the original sketchlines for her waist). you can see bits and pieces of the layers underneath pushing through and i really like that !! ^__^ its very fun and sketchy to me, so i try to keep them around. those areas are also great to colorpick from, because it'll give you "new" colors to work w/ that are already part of your palette.

5. GRADIENTS & GRADIENT MAPS !! TONE CURVE !! COLOR PICKER !! this is the best stage tbh. flatten your image so its all on one layer and just go crazy with all the color settings in ur program. add gradient layers and set them to darken, or overlay, or subtract, orrr. lighten or dodge glow or divide or soft/hard light.! OR!! edit the hue, saturation, luminosity and contrast.and then color pick from these edits, block even more on top of ur image, flatten, color edit again, etc. etc. until u feel satisfied.

ANYWAYSS . i hope that makes sense @__@ sry i wrote this out and deleted it like 23 times trying to make it make More sense but thats what ive got HAHA i hope its useful though :3 !

#SRY I STRUGGLED 2 EXPLAIN THIS #dude its like my brain bcomes stuffed w/ cotton anytime i try 2 write #i hope it makes sense tho..#it also probably sounds so redundant to make new layer one after the other for just a few brushstrokes #but those brushes i linked have a multiply property so if you draw on top of prev lines they'll create dark patches #and so if im working over a large area ill generally need like . 5 layers each with one brushstroke :sob: if that makes sense #this one had . 84 i think. total. layers i mean. the merylvash one had 300+ HAHAH so it rly depends #like YEAAH i could just use a normal brush but i really like the way this looks #andd sometimes the multiply function works really well or will give me the proper shadow tone im looking for #anywas.wanywaysn anyways #asktag #anonymous #long post

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honestlywtfisgoingon · 2 years

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You’re My Moon — An Obi-Wan Kenobi Fall Fic

OBI-WAN KENOBI x READER

description: you and obi-wan are sent to a planet during their annual masked festival where they celebrate the moons, a perfect date for two jedi secretly in love.

warnings: language, alcohol, smut, minimal editing, creepy guy (yes he’s a zabrak bc maul) obi-wan’s rat tail slander

a/n: ok no surprise the “masked festival” is supposed to be halloween lol. this is 1/4 fall fics that i’ve planned tho and i’m kinda hyped. also i don’t usually write for padawan obi but it just felt?? so right?? also the smut is a lil rough for obi bc i imagine young him to be a lil more, well, rough lol. i’m sry if this particular fic is mid tho i had to deliver a speech, take tests, basic time-consuming college shit yk the drill

words: 4156

"What about this one?" you looked back at Obi-Wan dramatically, your brown robe swishing around. He looked up from the display of masks to see you holding one up to your face.

"not a big fan of the uh," he stepped forward, "the horns," he touched the tip of the pointy horns that extended out. "can't kiss you without being stabbed," he lifted the bottom of the mask up to reveal your true face, the one he had grown to know so well that not even a mask could hide you from him. He leaned forward to give you a small kiss, but you batted him away.

"Obi, no! We're still in our robes," you urgently whispered. You were clearly in Jedi garb, and the few on the planet who knew about the Jedi also knew that two of them shouldn't be kissing each other. He sighed, knowing you were right but still buzzing with anticipation for tonight. He was going to parade you around in, well, an actual parade.

It was luck that sent you to this small planet on the very week they reserved as an extended holiday to celebrate their three moons. They held a festival for each moon; tonight was the first of them. In the past, it was common practice to use face paint or a mask to decorate the face with lunar symbols and motifs. Over many years, the tradition became an opportunity to dress up and disguise yourself as whatever you liked, moon-related or otherwise.

The masks, plus the fact that the neutral planet was relatively unfamiliar with Jedi, made this the perfect date for the two of you. The only thing that could give you away was your braids, but their image of you only included robes and a saber, making Obi-Wan look less like a Jedi and more like someone who just had a stupid haircut. You were far from anyone who would let your relationship get to the council. There was Qui-Gonn, who you suspected would keep your secret, rebellious master as he was. But Obi-Wan was still nervous as his padawan, so it overjoyed him when he realized he would have the ability to hide from him among the throng of mask-wearers if need be. You were working on Obi-Wan being a little less uptight, but being the prudent Jedi he was, he needed a foolproof plan not to get caught on your date, and he had found one.

"As if robes have ever stopped us before," he whispered in your ear before stepping back with a little smirk. You resisted the urge to rip his off then and there. There was something about how he acted so cocky that both pissed you off…and completely turned you on. Perhaps it was the knowledge that when he was a show-off in front of your peers before you were together, the only one he was really trying to impress was you. It could also be that this trait made it so easy to rile him up before he touched you. Maker forbid you show even the slightest bit of satisfaction after he's made you see stars. He only sees it as a challenge and guarantees you won't be able to walk the next day. You would never let him know the effect he had on you in this way, but of course, he could tell anyway, but you liked to pretend he didn't in order to save your pride. You didn't want to admit that with only a particular voice, he could have you on your knees in front of the damn council if he wished.

To preserve any sense of self-control you had left, you merely rolled your eyes and went back to rifling through the racks of the little shop. You stopped when your eyes landed on the black fabric. With a flourish, you pulled it off the hanger along with the mask it came with and held the sheer black robe over your body to show Obi.

His brows rose a little in shock when he saw you. He definitely was a fan; his…approval was made very obvious through the force as you held the matching intricate black mask up to your face and batted your lashes at him.

"I'm going to wear something under it, Obi," you clicked your tongue. He threw his hands up with a little shrug as if he wasn't just screaming his fantasy of you in the sheer robe and nothing else in your heads. Maker, he was such a teenage boy—and you loved him.

Eventually, he found a mask that he liked, but when he showed you, you let out a little sigh at how predictable he was.

"You really don't know how to wear any other color besides brown, huh?"

"It's my color,"

"It's the standard color," you plucked it from his hands, refusing to let him go to a festival looking like a brown paper bag. He huffed in disappointment, not really enjoying shopping anymore.

Now desperate to leave, he was willing to compromise with you when you found a blue mask that you thought complimented his eyes. with a new robe to complete the look, you thought he looked quite debonair. What really sold him was when you told him he looked very handsome. His blush stood out clearly, even underneath his mask. For all his outer confidence, part of him always yearned for affirmation from you and Qui-Gonn, the two people who mattered most to him.

—

Night finally fell, and the moons had risen high in the sky. The people's laughs and shouts of celebration rose almost higher outside the hotel Qui-Gonn had found. You giggled as you stumbled out of the window Obi and you were trying to sneak out through. He shushed you aggressively, but he wore the same giddy smile you did. Once your boots finally met the ground with a thump, you took off and left Obi to run after you. His momentum caused him to run into you when you stopped abruptly in front of the market square. You lurched forward, but he wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you up, keeping one arm around you even after you became stable. He wasn't keen on chasing you again.

Pulling down your masks, you laced your hands together and joined the crowd. It was a bit annoying bumping into everyone you passed by in the crowd, but it was easy not to get past it when their joy began to infect you. You spotted a lively cantina down the way and began to make your way toward it before Obi-Wan held you back. If the two of you were walking into a cantina, he would make sure you ate first. He would carry you to the ends of the galaxy, let alone back to the hotel if need be, but he'd rather not have to at all. Before touching a single drop of anything, he worked his way over to a stand, keeping you in front of him the whole way.

The man in charge was also masked and greeted you in the native language. You and Obi just looked at each other helplessly, to which the man laughed. The two of you were relieved when he switched to basic.

"What'll you have?" He pointed to the different array of skewers, "roasted porg, roast nuna, deep fried gorb…"

"Three of the nuna please," Obi-wan handed the man some credits while he wrapped up the skewers. You gave him a confused look when he said three.

"Two of them are for you. You'll get hungry later," He smiled at you. It was rather sweet how he always thought ahead, knowing you well. You gave him a little peck on his shoulder that you were already leaning on.

"Enjoy yourselves! Don't get a lot of humans out here, especially young ones in love" the man smiled brightly at the two of you when he handed the two of you your skewers. Obi found a streetlight with a large raised base, enough for the two of you to sit on while you ate. You got comfortable sitting between his legs, leaning your back against his chest while he kicked his feet hanging off the edge of the base like a little kid.

Damn, this is delicious

Apparently, you were already pretty hungry, finishing both of the skewers while you laid back, and people-watched for a while. You saw parents chase after their kids who dashed to the people giving out candy, vendors hanging up their aprons to join in with the festivities, and even some fights, which were quickly broken up. No one was allowed to ruin the night.

Once you realized Obi was getting a little too comfortable, feeling his body slump slightly against the lamppost, you tugged his robe, signaling for him to get up. You were on his way to the cantina as soon as he was on his feet again. The music was blaring inside, and the colored lights roamed over the more adult crowd than outside. You were lucky enough to have snagged a table that had just opened up, so you sent Obi off with your drink order and a kiss while you saved the seats that were so coveted in the busy club.

"This seat taken?" A Zabrak man put his hands on the table's edge and leaned over.

"Yeah, it is, sorry," you answered politely. He didn't seem creepy or rude like most men at bars you were always wary of.

"Well, whoever they are, I don't see 'em," he leered.

And there it was. Spoke too soon.

"I didn't ask if you could see them. You asked me if the seat was taken, and it is." You said bluntly, firmly placing your hand on the table to emphasize your point.

"Well, is the pretty little woman taken too?" He pulled out Obi-Wan's seat and sat in it.

The fuck he just said?

"She is, so you better leave," you gritted your teeth, fingers dancing along the handle of your lightsaber.

"Oh, but baby, I'm only leaving if you're coming with me,"

"Where are we going?" Obi-Wan appeared next to you, placing the drinks down on the table. With his hands now relieved, he placed one on your shoulder and the other over his lightsaber, never taking his eyes from the Zabrak's once.

"You're not invited," the man huffed.

"You should leave. Now." Obi-Wan said firmly. You could tell the man was weighing his options on whether to leave or not. He took a step back when he saw the look in Obi-Wan's eyes, but not before he got in his last word.

"Well, she was asking for it in that dress."

Oh no.

Just like that, Obi-Wan had his lightsaber drawn and held up to the man's neck. Some of the people around you gasped and backed up. The man slowly backed away when Obi pressed his saber closer, breathing heavily with anger. Your hand wrapped around your saber as well.

"No fights in this cantina! Not tonight!" A short man, the owner, you assumed, shouted as he made his way into the ring of people that had formed around Obi and that absolute asshole. It took some time for Obi to calm himself enough to deactivate his saber. When he did, the man looked at you, then back at Obi with a sneer before storming off in the other direction.

While Obi-Wan's narrowed eyes trailed after the man, your head fell slightly.

"Was I really asking for it?"

"What? No." His face melted into one of soft concern. “Your dress isn't even that short—but that's not even the point. Even if you wore half of what you've got on right now, you said no. He was asking for me to chop off his head,"

I love you, Obi-Wan.

You stood up abruptly and stepped towards Obi-Wan Your face was filled with an emotion a little less…wholesome as you grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a rough kiss.

"What was that for?" He looked down at you once your lips parted, cheeks glowing red from the altercation and your affections.

"I just wanted to thank you."

"I'm still sorry though, y/n,"

"Don't be. I could've taken him by myself, though," You teased, "besides, it was…well, it was hot," His brows raised.

"Hot?" He questioned you.

"Yeah. Hot. You were ready to end that guy just because he was hitting on me,"

"Well, I—"you were feeding his cockiness once again.

"Don't let it get to your head," You laughed and sat back down, and he followed your actions with his seat.

You could only manage to have a small conversation; your voices were drowned out by the blasting music. You downed your cocktail, realizing there wasn't much point in sitting down if you couldn't even talk. As soon as the liquid poured down your throat, it hit you. You grimaced at the taste. It was a good thing this was a seasonal drink. It was way too intense to have daily. As your mouth naturally washed out the flavor, you watched while Obi-Wan finished his drink. He started hacking when he took his first sip, causing you to laugh. It really was strong stuff. As soon as he swallowed the last drop, you pulled him over to where the dancing was.

Obi-Wan wasn't a big dancer, but with a bit of liquid courage and a lot of love for you, he moved along to the music like everyone else. The lack of space had you two pressed against each other, not that you minded. That was what tonight was for, anyway. You had gone out often with other padawans, danced and drank just as you had, but not like this. You could never have your arms wrapped around each other openly, always ensuring there was an appropriate amount of space between you. Everything you were doing right now was taboo, the masks ironically the very thing that made it, so you did not have to hide.

Obi-Wan's hands slipped from your waist to grip your hips as you moved them to the fast music. They didn't stop there, dropping even further down to rest slightly on your ass. You responded by spinning around to press your ass against him, feeling him grow harder under the flashing lights as you grinded on him. One of your arms rose behind you to play with the hair on the nape of his neck as you continued dancing. Both of you were enjoying this time immensely, the alcohol causing every part of you to vibrate deliciously. But you started to overheat even in your sheer robe and the small black dress underneath.

When Obi-Wan felt his mask start to stick from sweat, you both gave each other a look that meant it was time to take a break. When you got back to the table, hand in hand, it was already taken. You'd forgotten what a hot commodity seating was, but you were still desperate for a rest. Obi-Wan nodded his head to the door, and the two of you stepped out, the cool air hitting you in refreshing waves. You leaned against the wall of the side of the building, catching your breath. When your heads rolled to the side so you could look at each other, you began to laugh.

This was your first real night together without the code on your mind. No council, no Jedi, not even Qui-Gonn around to recognize you. You were just…people. You could feel Obi-Wan's mind wandering in that direction, as it did every so often. He imagined what it would be like if you left the order, got married, and even had a family. The images he shared with you were beautiful, so beautiful that you couldn't take it. Your force told him to stop, that it wasn't the time. Thinking about that now would only make the two of you sad, and you wanted to enjoy this moment. He nodded to you in understanding, his mind moving to a very different sort of fantasy.

He was still hard from the dance floor and wanted nothing more than to remedy that by pulling up your little dress and making you cum all over him. Quite a change from his previous family-oriented thoughts, but this time you didn't tell him to stop; you told him to continue, to do exactly what he wanted to do.

It didn't take him any time to lead you and push you up against the wall in the alley behind the club. He grasped the hair at the base of your scalp and close to yanked it so that your face tilted up for him to place a heated kiss on your lips. You couldn't help but let out a little whimper at the delicious sting of your hair being pulled. It was only fair that you returned the favor by tugging at the hair that was just long enough to do so. He moaned into your mouth at your actions, only spurring him on further. He moved down to your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin he had already claimed a long time ago.

"No marks,"

"It was one time. And an accident," he mumbled against your jaw. Cutting your little dialogue short, he slipped his hand under your dress dress to cup your cunt, feeling you dripping through the fabric that covered it. He dragged his middle finger, finding the little dip where your entrance was. He circled it with the tip of his finger, making your eyes flutter and mouth sigh. It was a light feeling of pleasure, but Obi always liked the element of surprise and suddenly shoved two fingers into you, your underwear still on. Already soaked through, it didn't stop him at all. The slight friction of the fabric rubbing against your clit every time he pumped you made your mouth drop open. Stooped slightly to have access, Obi-Wan was now leveled with you and used direct eye contact to strengthen your connection through the force. His lids went heavy, experiencing a bit of what you were feeling. He also felt your growing desperation for him to do something more, and he loved nothing more than to humor you. Strong, calloused hands gripped your hips before slipping under the edge of your dress to pull it up while gliding along your silhouette simultaneously. Not wanting to waste any time, you slipped your hands past the band of his underwear, wrapping your hand around his shaft and palming him up and down, feeling the veins throbbing with blood rushing in arousal. He let out a groan, capturing your lips roughly. When he pulled back to pull down his pants, he reached up with one hand to lift his mask. You grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"Can you, uh, keep the mask on?" You asked, looking down a bit in slight embarrassment.

"Why?" He tilted your chin to let you know you didn't have to hide. He left the mask alone, indulging you but still not exactly understanding the reasoning behind your request.

"It's kind of mysterious," You bit your lip, still a little shy.

He suddenly removed his hands from you, "Sorry, mystery woman, I have a girlfriend," You couldn't help but laugh as you pulled his hands back to cup your face, the rest of him following in for a kiss. You went back to fumbling with his pants, finally pulling him out. You wrapped your hand up and down on his dick, spreading the precum dripping from the tip, red and rock hard. His large hands gripped the back of your thighs, running them up and down a few times to tell you to be ready to jump. The two of you used a combination of actual jumping and the force so that you were lifted with your legs tightly secured around his waist. With his forearms against the wall behind you, his robe draped perfectly around the two of you, a little pocket in this world created just for the two of you to feel each other. You always loved this little moment, just before he entered you, where you saw the flicker of love in his eyes no matter how soft or rough it was going to be. With a groan, he slid in easily, both of your foreheads pressed together in the pleasured reaction. As soon as he bottomed out, a feeling you'd never get used to with his size, he began to fuck you fast. Obi-Wan was never one for quickies. Sex had meaning to him, and he liked to savor it. That's not to say this didn't mean anything to him, but maybe it was the alcohol or the adrenaline from sneaking out that had him entering you hard and fast. Hitting all the right spots inside of you, this was a treat far fucking better than candy. You shared open-mouthed kisses, your movements desperate and wild. Heavy breaths accompanied each thrust; his dick pressed tight inside your walls as you began to pulse around him. The air was crisp and cold, but the shelter of his robe was filled with the heat of sex. You pulled your knees closer to you just slightly, but the mere inch of new access you gave him had you crying out his name. More moans fell out of your mouth freely before you tried to silence them into his shoulder. He shifted one arm so that he could use his hand to cup your jaw, moving your face so you could see him.

"That’s it, that's it. When you come, I want you to be loud. Don't worry, they won't hear you, but I will, and I want to hear you shouting for me," it was true. The music and people would drown you out completely, freeing you to let out what Obi-Wan said was his favorite sound in the world. You obeyed, letting out each swear and moan that he worked out of you. He knew you were close when you began to chant his name until you couldn't manage to chant anything. Every syllable encouraged him to fucking up into you, filling you up repeatedly. You felt him in your stomach and against your cervix.

"That's a good girl, taking all of me like that," He praised you in a low voice. Obi-Wan's eyes were hooded, his pupils almost blacking out the striking blue of his irises. Your head rolled back, and your mouth dropped open. At this opportunity, he painted your neck with quick kisses. You felt his thrusts grow erratic, and his head fall into the crook of your neck with a groan. With your last bit of bodily control, you tightened your legs around him to pull him close.

For a moment, you were so lost in pleasure that you thought the fireworks that suddenly exploded in the night sky above was your imagination. It might as well have been, for your connected forces created an explosion between your bodies as you reached your peak together. You gushed all over him while he simultaneously filled you up with his hot cum. It was hard to distinguish between what you were feeling and what he was feeling. Maybe there wasn't. Maybe the feeling of your toes curling and your nerves flaring as you screamed his name out into the night air was shared. Maybe the spasming of muscles and the rush of euphoria that drowned your senses was truly a one in the same experience with the force.

When the final wave of mingled ecstasy washing over the two of you ebbed, you couldn't even tell the difference between who was dripping out of you, either. He stayed in you just a moment, holding you close just a little longer.

He placed a small kiss by your ear before letting you down slowly. After he tucked himself back in and you had smoothed down your dress, the two of you shared a look and began to giggle like the teenagers you were. He slung his arm around you, leaving another one of his small kisses on the top of your head with an exhausted sigh.

“You know what, you’re my moon,”

“Such a sap,”

“No, really. I’m going to celebrate you for the rest of my life,”

“I’d like that,”

“I love you, y/n. Always,”

“I love you too,”

You leaned on his shoulder as the two of you headed dazedly out of the alley and into the party again. You weren't going to let your night's worth of freedom end just yet.

#star wars #obi wan #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x y/n #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan smut #obi wan kenobi smut #padawan!obi wan #padawan obi wan kenobi #obi wan halloween #star wars halloween #star wars smut

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nonexistent-introvert · 1 year

Text

Changes (Paper Stars pt 3)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Content: Mentions of Anxiety (sry for inaccuracies) domestic Joel, flashbacks, domestic fluff, Joel being a dad, Joel's wedding

A/N: Went a little overboard on this chapter, Joel deserves some comfort and love.

Part 1 Part 2

This was wrong on so many levels. Joel wasn’t supposed to be standing here, sweating and shifting from toe to toe at the thought of marrying her. He wasn’t supposed to have given up his dream of being a musician, or his spot in college and he definitely wasn’t supposed to be looking out for you, staring anxiously at the seat beside Tommy that he and Tommy had agreed to leave, just in case you decided to come.

He had tried to make it work, studying in the day while taking up multiple part time jobs. It was hell, having to commit his time to both was exhausting, not to mention the extra transport fees he had to pay to be getting around from one place to another. Eventually, he decided to quit college despite only being there for only a few weeks or so and focus fully on the job he had gotten as an apprentice carpenter. It wasn’t much, but his boss was understanding enough to have taken him under his wing, Joel learnt to be grateful for the little things.

Tommy was shifting in his seat too, tugging on the tie around his neck that acted more like a noose. Beads of sweats trickling down his face from the hot Texas weather, the whole town being packed into the small church didn’t help a single bit. His eyes kept shifting to the door and the seat beside him, deep down he knew you won’t be coming but judging from his brother’s constant gaze on the chair beside him, he wasn’t the only one who wanted to let the glimmer of hope burn for a little while more.

Lorraine stood before him, Joel’s hands were sweating. The words of the officiant fell on deaf ears, he could hardly breathe in this suit of his. He briefly heard Lorraine say “I do” and he felt his heart pace significantly more. Sucking in breaths through his clenched teeth in an attempt to calm himself down. “Joel?” Lorraine called out, her eyes looking at him expectantly. Shit. The whole town stared at him, all awaiting his response. Joel clenched and unclenched his fists, his eyes darting to all corners of the room in his frenzy. He looked at the seat next to Tommy again. There you were, a small relieved exhale escaped him, you had a smile on your face, dressed in a beige dress he knew you had complained about hours before, your legs were crossed. He missed you, you were exactly how he remembered you. He felt himself calming down, his breaths evening out. However, Joel made the grave mistake of blinking, and the image of you sitting next to Tommy disappeared, vanished. Joel decided then it was time to accept reality, you weren’t there.

“I do,” Joel vowed as a round of applause erupted from the crowd.

The burden on his heart only grew heavier.

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“If you don’t want food poisoning, I suggest you bring something to Joel’s,” Tommy advised over the phone, you laughed. “You’re exaggerating.” “I swear, my deepest respects to Sarah who had to stomach his food for a few years before I decided that maybe he deserved to know the truth.” Tommy said, you could visualise him shivering at the thought of Joel’s food already. “Fine, fine. I’ll head over early, I’ll cook instead.” You offered, Tommy let out a horrified gasp. “I don’t know if that would make a big difference actually. You and Joel…” You huffed at Tommy, “Watch your words Tommy, maybe I’ll sneak in a lethal dose of poison just for yours.” Tommy laughed over the phone, “Don’t kill each other alright?”

Joel was surprised to see you two hours earlier than the supposed time for dinner. His eyes dropped down to the bag of groceries in your hands. “Tommy said you couldn’t cook.” Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something about killing Tommy. He still shifted to the side to let you in nevertheless. He walked into the kitchen, watching you unpack the groceries. You opened the fridge on your left and Joel mentally cringed at the look on your face upon seeing the fridge. “Thank god I decided to buy groceries here,” you told him, staring at the fridge that was filled with Tupperware of leftovers, sweet drinks, and beer. “I’ll handle it.” Joel offered from beside you, taking the groceries out from your bag. “No.” You pointed a finger at him, “Today, you’ll be my assistant. Prove yourself worthy of making food and maybe I’ll let you do something yourself the next time.” Joel scoffed, “I can make food perfectly fine. Tommy was exaggerating.” You narrowed your eyes at him, “I’ll take Tommy’s word for it considering the last time we cooked together you burnt half the food including the spaghetti! How do you even burn spaghetti? And this-” You gestured to the fridge. “This is not giving you any points whatsoever.” “That was a decade ago, maybe more.” Joel reminded. You handed Joel the potatoes, “Here, deal with this.” Despite his earlier arguments, he still obediently shaved and cut the potatoes.

You washed your hands, drying your hands on the towel as you poured the bowl of mushrooms into the soup that was simmering on the stove. “Where’s your washroom?” Joel looked up from the vegetables he was preparing, “Take the one in my room upstairs, I think Sarah is showering in the one downstairs.” You widened your eyes, you haven’t caught sight of the young girl ever since you stepped in. “Sarah’s home?” Joel nodded, “Was in her room, napping or whatever, probably has those headphones over her ears when she came down. Could be screaming for help and she wouldn’t hear me.” Joel complained, “You sound like an old dad.” You teased. “I am a dad.” Joel deadpanned. You shook your head at him before ascending the stairs, “Please don’t burn down the kitchen.” Joel scrunched his face up childishly at you.

You stretched upon exiting the washroom in his room. Glancing around the room out of curiosity. His bed was neatly made, a picture of him and Sarah stood proudly on the shelf. A laundry basket that was overflowing sat near the door, but what caught your attention was the pill bottles sitting on the night stand. You carefully picked them up, your heart dropping at the sight of the labels. Anxiety, high blood pressure and gastric ulcers, all that may be a result of excessive stress. Joel had always carried his burdens on those broad shoulders of his, even when the burdens get too heavy for him he’ll never admit it, preferring to crush himself under the weight then let someone share his burdens.

You ran down the stairs, barely stopping in time to prevent yourself from running straight into the kitchen counter. Your soup must have been boiling by now, Joel simply looked over to you. “I turned off the fire already, it was boiling.” He proudly announced. You gave him a pat on his back, “Nice one Miller.”

Sarah’s gasp caught both you and Joel’s attention. Sarah ran forward, the headphones that Joel mentioned hanging around her neck. “You’re here!” Sarah glanced over to the soup that was simmering and inhaled the aroma of it. “I knew it smelt too good for it to be Dad’s cooking.” Sarah laughed, Joel rolled his eyes while you let out a childish “I told you so.” Sarah hopped onto the counter and within a split second Joel was already carrying her down the counter. “No sitting on countertops in the kitchen. Go wait in the living room or something.” Joel scolded. “Dad, I’m twelve! I won’t sit too near to fire or whatever you’re worried about.” Joel shook his head, a firm no. She pouted at him, before turning her attention back to you. “Go wait in the living room, think Uncle Tommy is on his way.” You told her. She beamed up at you, when Joel started, “Can I also know why you brought those damned headphones into the shower with you?” “I forgot to take them off before I left my room.” Sarah said, Joel let out a sarcastic laugh, “Forgot? How do you forget that a headset is sitting on your head!” “I was too immersed in the music ok?” Sarah excused, Joel eyes widened, prepared to rebut when he was interrupted by the knocks on the door. “Uncle Tommy!” Sarah shouted, rushing to open the door for Tommy.

“Smells too good for Joel already!” Tommy exclaimed the moment he spotted the both of you in the kitchen. “Aw, Sarah said the same exact thing!” You pointed out to Joel who rolled his eyes at you. “I still brought Pizza, just in case your food doesn’t deliver on the taste front.” Tommy said, earning him a punch to his shoulder to which Joel cackled at. “Ouch, anyways I remembered. Pepperoni pizza, your favourite. You’ve always been into the boring old flavours.” Tommy remarked, glancing at Joel. You cleared your throat, keeping your eyes on the pan. Joel furrowed his eyebrows, “I am not boring.” Joel defended. Tommy raised his eyebrows, “I’m not into you .” You defended a little too quickly. Tommy smirked, deciding to let you off with the bright blush on your face that he’ll never let you live down. “Yeah, I never said you were boring. I said she always like boring stuff.” Joel dropped his gaze, “ I didn’t hear that part. I just saw you looking at me when you said that.” Tommy laughed, looking between the both of you who seemed to be getting along well.

“Did you go to culinary school while you’re away or something?” Tommy remarked, taking yet another mouthful of food. “It’s yummy!” Sarah complimented, “Hey slow down, don’t choke.” You adviced, watching her take another serving of soup from the pot. You watched Joel’s reaction expectantly, he wasn’t as verbal as the others but the way his eyes twinkled as he looked up told you enough. “Its good.” He simply said. You beamed up at them, “I’m glad.”

It was a great day. It was just a simple dinner that left you feeling very satisfied with the day. You collapsed against your couch, feeling very bloated from the heavy dinner you just had. It was close to 1am, Sarah insisted on a few board games that lasted too long. After which, Tommy had scrambled home to hopefully get enough sleep for tomorrow which was a Monday. You helped Joel clean up and when you left, he was already in his sweatpants, prepared to retire the night.

Imagine your surprise when you looked out of your window from your bedroom and saw Joel sitting on his front porch, his guitar in his capable hands. You frowned at the sight, Joel looked absolutely exhausted when you left an hour ago, even telling you that he had a long day to prepare for, yet here he was, strumming his guitar. You shoved your hands into the pockets of your hoodie, making your way over to Joel’s front porch.

You could see it in his eyes that were in a daze and the sweat that was still evident on his face. Something was wrong. His movements stopped abruptly, you could have sworn he had jumped at the sight of you. “Sorry, did I wake you?” Joel apologised immediately. You shook your head, “Was just wondering why you were still awake.” Joel smiled sadly, “I could say the same to you.” Joel stood up, attempting to offer you his seat, but you refused and opted for sitting on the railing of his porch. “I just have a messed up sleep schedule.” You laughed, Joel smiled. “Really should fix that, ain’t good to stay up too late.” He nagged, leaning forward to lean his guitar against the wall. That was when you caught sight of it, a locket around his neck, one that made your eyes widen at the fact that he still had it.

================================================

You fidgeted with the locket around your neck. Joel was holding onto the camera he had gotten for his birthday, taking pictures of the natural scenery all around him. It was only the two of you, Tommy refused to wake up at dawn just to hike and catch the sunrise. You were sitting on a bench, one of the few benches that was present on this route, watching Joel excitedly snap pictures. “Since when did you wear necklaces?” Joel remarked, finally putting his camera down as he took a seat next to you. “It’s a locket Joel.” Joel gently picked up the locket from your hands and opened it. “An empty one.” He pointed out, “Aren’t you suppose to put a picture in it or something?” You pulled the locket away from his hands, “I can’t find a good enough picture.” You complained, staring off into the distance. He grinned, a mischievous spark in his eye. “No-” You rejected but Joel was already moving closer to you, one hand holding up his camera, “3,2,1” He counted down, and you gave in, smiling while putting a hand around his neck to push him into the small picture. Joel beamed proudly, pressing around on his camera as he admired the photo. “Let me see-” You requested to which he raised the camera high above his head, “Nope, it’s a surprise.” You rolled your eyes at his antics. “I need your locket.” He demanded, sticking his hand out. “Joel Miller, are you trying to rob me?” You accused, he scoffed, taking matters into his own hands as he pulled your hair aside and took the locket off your neck.

“Trust me on this.” He said.

A few days have passed when Joel finally returned to you with the locket in hand. You took it from him surprised, “Open it.” He said. You looked at him suspiciously before opening it, a gasp escaping you. The picture in the locket was none other than the picture you had taken with him that day, his face basically touching yours as the both of you smiled warmly in the photo, the sunrise from behind you created the perfect lighting to highlight the features on both your faces. “Pulled some strings.” Joel awkwardly scratched the back of his head. You smiled at him, finally solving the question that was bothering you for the longest time ever since his birthday. “Joel, this is the perfect gift! Happy birthday!” You shoved it back to him. Joel’s jaw dropped, “Do you not like it?”, “I love it, that’s why I want you to have it.” You replied, Joel looked at you with a questioning gaze. “Joel, I have been struggling to find you a gift ever since your birthday, you said I didn’t have to but I still felt inclined to. I bought the locket, hoping to give it to you but I chickened out, thought maybe you wouldn’t like wearing a locket. Then you took it from me and made this, it’s perfect. So take it Joel.” You explained. Joel glanced at the locket in your hands, his face unreadable. “Or you can don’t, if you don’t like it then-.” You quickly tried to hide the locket back into your pocket. Joel turned around, his back facing you. “I’ll take it, help me?” He said, pointing at his neck. You grinned, “It’s an honour Joel.” Placing the locket around his neck.

Joel wore it around everywhere, an action that made you feel touched. However, you didn’t notice when he stopped wearing it either.

============================

Joel’s eyes followed your gaze, glancing down at the locket around his neck. He smiled, delicately opening it to show you the very same picture from when you were teenagers. “You kept it.” You stated. He smiled warmly, “Of course I did.” You bit on your lip, “I don’t think I saw you wearing it just now.” Joel shooked his head, studying your face as he contemplated if he should tell you the truth. “I wear it when I can’t sleep.” He admitted, thinking back on his sleep that had caused him to be sitting here in the first place.

Joel shot up from his bed, clutching onto the sheets of his bed. His breathing rapid and uneven, his eyes widening. His right-hand clutches onto his chest, feeling the racing heart rate under his palms. His left hand reached out for the pill bottles on his nightstand. In his exhaustion, he had forgotten to take his pills. Joel swallowed his pills at one go, stumbling out of bed to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of water which was exceptionally tough with his shaking hands. The haunting thoughts getting softer in his mind as the pills took effect.

“How could you! She’s only 17!”

“Joel, you have to take responsibility.”

“Joel, you need to work hard, be a man.”

“Joel, I can’t do this anymore.”

“I had enough, I’m sorry.”

The words from his past bubbling up in his mind, thoughts that made his throat constrict that he has to gasp for air. He closed his eyes forcefully, trying his best to block out the thoughts as much as he could as he sat on the floor, leaning against the cabinets, curling himself up.

When he finally felt that it had passed, he stood himself up, crashing into his cabinet when a light dizziness caught up with him. He sat on the couch, pulling open the drawer in the coffee table, to retrieve the locket he had kept safely in a jewelry box. He opened it again, feeling himself calm down at the sight of your bright smile. He then wore it around his neck before bringing his guitar out with him to the front porch, hoping that it will comfort him.

================================

Your heart broke for the man before you. Joel used to be the most decisive and confident man you knew. Maybe it proved that despite the strong facade that Joel put up, he was still human after all. “If I felt uneasy or anything, I’ll wear it and it’s like some kind of charm, I always sleep soundly after that.” Joel laughed, the idea of him, clutching onto a locket for dear life hoping to have a good sleep. It was comical. You drummed your fingers along the edge of the railing, your gaze fixated on a street lamp across the street. “I didn’t mean to intrude but- I can’t help but notice the pills.” Joel wiped his face with his hands, it was a side of him that he rather hide. “I’m getting help, burns a hole right through my wallet.” He chuckled, you frowned at him. “You only go back when you run out of pills huh?” Joel nodded, you frowned at him, hating how well you knew him. You didn’t say anything else except waltz straight into his house like you owned it. When he went back in while resting his guitar on its usual stand, you walked out of the kitchen with the alcoholic drinks from his fridge. “The next time you need one of these, you come over and tell me. Depending on the situation, I’ll give it to you and we’ll talk if you need to drown in your sorrows.” Joel smiled, he was always so used to taking care of everyone, it has been a while since someone worried and cared for him.

“Yes ma’am” He said, trying his best to stifle a yawn. “Goodnight Joel.” His eyes widened, reaching out to you before letting his hand fall limp at his side. “Goodnight” he replied instead.

With the locket in his palm and the thoughts of you, Joel fell asleep with a soft smile that night.

#joel miller tlou #the last of us #tlou x reader #joel tlou #tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x oc #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader

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anthenasikes · 6 months

Note

shakingng onyour doorstep TRICK RO TREAT

HIIII SYYYY HIII SRY THIS IS SO LATE . IM BUSYHERE IS SHITTY ATTEMPT AT YOUR FUCKING PURPLE GUY big fan of his athena cykes earring . every image i’ve seen of him he’s looked pissed so i draw him pissed

#ask tag #trick or treating tag #SYYYY ILYSMMMMM #🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️🤬🤬🤬

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endenope · 1 year

Note

Do u like knots? On dick? Idr if I've seen u draw or mention them

I ask because I've recently found out they are not as easy to take as I thought and my immediate thought was "how the fuck is tartaglia able to do this goddamn"

And I can take big dick so maybe is the abrupt change in width?

Magical fiction shit making this easier than they actually are. Should be a crime.

sry in advance if this is tmi for someone!!! anw under cut

i LOVE knots tho i havent posted the few i have drawn (theres a lot of stuff i rlly love and havent drawn or posted yet, unfortunately!!)

lots of stuff looks or sounds easier until you try. with knots its a width thing, since you got used to the girth and suddenly theres more and abruptly too. so it def takes patience in working it in slow and steady and lube to take it all etc etc lmfao (saying it in general and not to u if youre already aware of this)

in other words, childe taking zhonglis already monstrous dick AND his even bigger knot like a champ rlly makes him earn a medal, he prob practiced in secret by himself to prove zhongli he can take him easy peasy first try or smth LMFAOOO (once he tells zhongli so, the mental image of childe shoving up a knotted toy up his ass to practice taking him prob drives zhongli so wild he shifts form by accident out of pure horniness)

#i dont wanna sound like a teacher or smth oh gpds #reply

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lollytea · 2 years

Note

hi omg i just wanted to say i read sunshine in your smile the other night and thought it was amazing! your characterization takes such an in depth look at what drives each character and i just loved how much attention you paid to small details like those, especially with the big argument in chapter 5. your interpretation of hunter and willow has honestly been some of the best/my favorite from all the toh fics ive read, and it just has such a unique quality to it that im still thinking about days later. plus, how the huntlow was sort of evident and there the entire time, the story itself focused a bit more on them caring for and learning about each other as both friends and people without needing to lean on the romance to carry the plot? it was SO good and well handled UGHHH because your tags were right!!! two kids who see themselves in each other and form a strong emotional connection.. its such a good premise it was such a good study. sry this is long haha just wanted to say i read ur fic and loved it, youre a really good writer and i hope to see more from you in the future!! have a nice night :~)

AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! This means SO MUCH to me, you don't understand!!! Thank you thank you thank you!! Thank you for feeling like you should tell me this cuz it makes my day so much better!! I WILL cry, I will do it, I'll do it right now

And I'm so so SO happy that you enjoyed the emphasis on their relationship outside of the romantic element because that was really what the fic was all about. It was a direct response to all the people saying huntlow would "ruin" Hunter's character and it was just some hollow "painfully hetero" ship that existed for the sake of cliche shipping. I was trying to show the potential of just what it could actually be. Something that pays respect to both Hunter and Willow as people, as well as being a love letter to both of their characters. And how those personalities really catch fire when they have each other to bounce off of.

Like he had a crush on her from the first chapter but it wasn't supposed to make you think "oh yes he is in love with her. He is her soulmate. They are meant to be together." It was supposed to make you think "Aww this dummy got a crush on a girl after knowing her for a literal day for simple silly reasons because he is sixteen and sixteen year olds are just Like That sometimes." Their mutual crushes are supposed to demonstrate how despite Willow's wisdom and maturity and Hunter's militant personality they're both still kids and are fully capable of being childish and impulsive, without mocking either them for feeling that way. Like at this stage they really don't know each other well at all. But they would really like to.

The crushes clearly grow as the fic goes on as they become more familiar and now the infatuation actually has a stronger foundation. But in the end, it's still shown to be a sweet innocent juvenile thing, not like straight up burning true love or whatever. Willow doesn't give him a flower that means undying devotion or everlasting love or anything like that. It is simple as "I think happiness suits you. Your smile is very pretty." Meanwhile the bond they begin to develop as friends and mirror images of each other is the main character study at play here. It is not so easily slotted into a box of romantic or platonic, its just this indescribable kind of thing. The fic doesn't end with a kiss or a sudden realization of feelings, but rather with them having formed this connection, gaining some perspective of each other and themselves. And sometimes, depending on how the story as a whole is handled, an ending like that can be satisfying enough.

I had a post in my drafts about it but I never posted it cuz I felt I was getting annoying constantly talking about my own fic. But here's some tags on it where I ramble about the angle I was trying to take with it.

#huntlow #this is one of the best asks i have gotten in my entire life #thank you so much for GETTING IT #getting what i was going for

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aarcanechaoss · 2 years

Note

Hey :)

So i saw that you did a fic where Higuchi is caught by the mafia.Can you do another one like that but with a different prompt?

Like where there's a joint PM & ADA outing but Higuchi cant attend cause she promised her sister they'll go to the carnival on that day.But councidentally the PM & ADA also go to the carnival and they see Higuchi.

And if you want you can add in how Higuchi was wearing an open back top so you can see a tatto there and the PM is surprised cause they didn't think Higuchi has tattos

Sry for it being so long😭

Don’t be sorry this is wonderful!

Also here’s a link for the tattoo a cherry blossom to match my Yamizakura theory lmao

A joint outing. What a tiresome idea yet brilliant all the same. Ever since the Guild the Armed Detective Agency and Port Mafia had been… trying more or less to work together when needed. And perhaps it was just some big plan for a means to an end but either way it at least kept the two companies busy.

Ichiyo Higuchi would not be attending this month’s gathering. Hell she was hardly invited to any of the Port Mafia’s normal gatherings so she really doubted they would bother to invite her to wherever it is they are going. Regardless she had plans, the carnival was in town and being the best big sister in the world that she is she promised she’d take Kuniko with her to the Carnival.

She didn’t know nor did she care about asking where the Port Mafia and Armed Detective Agency would be… but perhaps she should have.

~~*~~*~~*~~

“Come on Chiyo I want to check out the rides!” Her little sister whined playfully. The fifteen year old was practically vibrating from excitement as they exited the car. With her crutch held tight Kuniko waddled towards her big sister and practically dragged her into the Carnival itself.

It was a hot day and Ichiyo was thankful she let her sister pick her outfit today, with both girls pretty much matching. Black shorts and red shirts with their comfiest sneakers. Kuniko wore an old worn T-shirt with an English phrase that had Ichiyo chuckling every time she saw it (“what the duck” being the hilarious catchphrase with a cute little duck sitting right below it). Ichiyo however wore a red backless halter top with her cherry blossom tattoo on full display at Kuniko’s request.

Kuniko loved the image of a cherry blossom branch creeping its way up Ichiyo’s spine, with flowers and petals delicately floating about. It was so her sister it made her giddy because it was a well-known fact she loved the tree at the Higuchi home so why wouldn’t she have a tattoo.

Ichiyo loved seeing her sister happy. It reminded her that life was worth it and could still be joyful. She loves her little sister so damn much- she can understand why Akutagawa feels so protective towards Gin because she’s the exact same.

Kuniko would practically drag Ichiyo from stand to stand in excitement, getting small gifts and trinkets for their family and friends. They were having an absolute blast.

“Chiyo look.” Kuniko said at one point, hand raised and pointing towards and awfully familiar face. “Isn’t that the man from the newspaper?”

The weretiger was here… she can’t even say she’s surprised really considering how he’s practically everywhere in Yokohama most days. But on the one end of the spectrum this meant that Atsushi Nakajima decided to come to the Carnival today and see what it was or… everyone else decided to come to the Carnival as well.

Honestly Ichiyo believed it was the former considering she couldn’t see anyone from either company surrounding the very uncomfortable looking boy- oh… oh no he was having a panic attack.

With a hobble and shuffle of Kuniko’s crutch the blonde mafioso made it to the weretiger’s side quickly.

“Hey.. Atsushi I need you to breathe okay.” She started, hands lightly gripping his forearms- because no offence she didn’t feel like getting clawed today. “I need you to tell me two things you can hear.”

“Uh… your voice… music?” He said after a moment.

“Three things you can see.” She says again. “And follow my breathing.” Ichiyo places his hand on her chest allowing him to feel her breathing.

“You, grass… you, grass… my hands.”

“Very good Atsushi. Three things you can feel.”

“Hands, my clothes and the breeze.”

“One more okay.” Higuchi said softly. “Something you can smell.”

“Ch-cherry blossoms?” He looked confused as he searched the area wearily before his eyes landed on the blonde.

“You back with us now?” She questions softly. He nods.

“Sorry… sorry just… I thought I saw- someone.” And didn’t that break her heart just that little bit. She never understood Akutagawa’s anger and rage towards the boy who suffered so much, she understood that Akutagawa went through his own trauma’s yes but so did she and many others but she would never belittle someone else’s trauma the way she’d heard him do so some days. She cared for the Rashoumon user, she truly did and she would hang stars in the sky for him but trauma is trauma and no one should be shamed for it.

Ichiyo shook her head, clearing her mind.

“It’s okay you don’t have to tell me Atsushi- May I call you Atsushi or would you prefer Nakajima?”

“Atsushi is fine Miss Higuchi.” He said, sounding awfully tired at that.

“I’m just Ichiyo when I’m not at work lovely.” She said now moving to grip his hand… a simple and calming gesture that always helped her siblings, specifically Kuniko when she was feeling drained and it seemed to work for the weretiger too. “Is anyone else here we were just about to get some food and drinks anyway so we are happy to help.”

“Uh yeah. The joint outing was today… I noticed you weren’t there.” He whispered.

“Ah… so they are here huh? Let’s go get you a drink and maybe some food yeah?”

“Okay.” Atsushi said as he gripped the commander’s hand tighter.

~~*~~*~~*~~

The group was in a mix of emotions, many worried and others wanting to continue on with their little adventure of the Carnival.

But they’d lost Atsushi and now Kyoka was worried sick- Koyo immediately took her to search for him together whilst the others decided to stay as a pack.

Either way they all found him after twenty minutes sat with two women one blonde and the other brunette (who looked about Kenji and Kyoka’s age at that).

And as they walked across the impromptu food court that blonde started to look really familiar.

Cold hands pressed against her back as she leaned over Atsushi tapping away at his phone to alert the ADA of his whereabouts- considering his shaking hands. She yelped and spun around ready to slap the person who surprised her only to see Gin.

“Sorry for startling you.” She says.

“It’s okay Gin… you wouldn’t happen to know where the others are would you?” Ichiyo asked. “I think Atsushi needs Kyoka to sit with him for a bit, he’ll be okay but..,. Yeah.”

Gin looked behind her, behind the weretiger and low and behold the entire group had arrived silently.

“Yo Big Sis I didn’t think you could make it to the joint outing.” Tachihara gleams once he’s close enough to see the blonde’s face. “Sick tattoo. You don’t strike me as a tattoo person.”

He was weirdly chill and yeah granted not everyone in Japan liked tattoo’s and she was in the mafia… knowing him she expected a little more fanfare just because he could.

“Oh… thank you.” She says now turning to face the group, Gin now stood beside her staring awkwardly at the shaking weretiger. “Ah Kyoka!”

“Yes?” The girl asks stepping forward as Higuchi motioned her closer.

“He had a panic attack. I got him to calm down a little but since you are practically his sister you should take over. I know I’d hate it if no one let me take care of my sister, Kuni.”

“Chiyo!” Her little sister pouted.

“Holy shit tattoo.” Was not what she expected to hear fall from her executives lips as he and Dazai arrived, flanking her sides (so Dazai could see to Atsushi and Chuuya could find out what’s happening).

“Ah yes I have a tattoo…”

“Cherry blossom branch?” Ozaki asked.

“Yeah. My family home had a giant one I’d climb so…”

“She broke her arm twice climbing it.” Kuniko said, it was blunt yet full of teasing.

“Shut up gremlin.” Ichiyo groaned as she pulled her sister into a weak headlock.

“I like your tattoo Miss Higuchi!” Kenji shouted, startling everyone at that.

“Why is everyone looking at my tattoo?”

“Because it looks divine on you.” Dazai said smoothly…. Only to get a foot to the face and tumble to the floor.

“No flirting with my co-workers you bandaged freak!” Chuuya yelled, his hands now resting on her exposed shoulders like that would keep the former mafioso at bay.

“Cherry blossoms symbolism is quite beautiful.” Ranpo pipes up, stepping right into Ichiyo’s personal space. “Mostly beauty and pride, but it is also associated with life, impermanence, and love. It can also be a reminder of how nothing lasts forever and that you should celebrate each day.”

“Oh… yes… thank you Ranpo for that insight.” Ichiyo flushes, leaning back into Chuuya’s hands just that bit.

“No problem. It suits you is all.” He said before stepping back to sit at the table… and devour his snacks.

“Why is everyone yelling?” Akutagawa asked as he stepped close to his sister, a small car plush in his hands as he passed it too her.

“Aww Ryuu thank you. I shall name is Ren two, after my cat.” Gin says with a teasing smile.

“Yeah whatever… so why are we yelling and who’re they?”

The group fell quiet for a moment before giggles and snorts erupted.

“You don’t recognise your own co-worker.” Tachihara snorted with many of the ADA following while the rest of the mixed group just snickered. “It’s Higuchi and that’s… her little sister?”

“Kuniko Higuchi…. Sup.” The brunette greeted from her seat. Ichiyo, who had yet to be let go of by Chuuya (who was still kicking at Dazai for flirting with her- as he does with most women) turned her head towards Akutagawa who seemed to have gained the tiniest bit of colour on his pale cheeks.

“Regardless… why are you all making such a scene you found the weretiger yes? Now let’s continue or go home.” Akutagawa said sounding extremely bored.

“Higuchi has a tattoo dontcha want to see it?” Gin teased.

“Not really. Tattoo or not I do not care about something stuck to one’s skin that was probably painful.” He answered.

“Huh? Nah she took it like a champ. Chiyo didn’t feel shit.”

“Kuni! Language.” Ichiyo snapped.

“Yes mum.” The teen snorted.

“Honestly.” Ichiyo groaned. “Welp I promised Kuniko I’d show her the Ferris wheel and a few more stall games before we head out for dinner… lovely to see you all on this very warm day.”

“You aren’t staying?” Kyoka questions.

“Well no I wasn’t even really invited to the joint outing anyway and I don’t really get much time with my sister due to work so I want to spend more time with her.” The blonde answered as she peeled herself away from gloved hands and helped her sister to stand.

“Not invited?” Yosano wondered aloud.

“It’s how it usually goes. Unless Mori tells me personally I’m usually left to my own devices either inviting myself or not going at all… but either way my sister is priority so I wouldn’t have joined today regardless. We should go now anyway. See you all at work.”

“See ya Big Sis.” Tachihara waved.

“Goodbye Higuchi.” The rest added as she and her sister began to leave.

“By Mafia lady!” Kenji added making the blonde laugh and ruffle his hair.

The two Higuchi’s pondered office through the crowd towards a few more stalls looking as happy as can be.

They had to wonder… why did she still seem so down?

#bsd #Bungou stray dogs #bsd fluff #bsd angst #Bungou stray dogs fluff #Bungou stray dogs angst #higuchi’s sister #ichiyo higuchi #bsd higuchi #Higuchi has a tattoo #armed detective agency #bsd port mafia

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troger · 2 years

Text

The Women Who Leave Anti-Abortion Picket Lines to Get Abortions

snatched from behind paywall, sry format 🤷‍♀️

Patrick Adams

Updated Jul. 03, 2022 4:31AM ET Published Jul. 02, 2022 11:14PM ET

A few days before the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade last month, a woman who described herself as an anti-abortion activist showed up in the waiting room of Dr. Marissa Lapedis, a family-medicine doctor who performs the procedure in Atlanta.

But she wasn’t there to protest—she had an appointment.

“She talked about being in marches, and said she had spent a lot of time volunteering in crisis pregnancy centers—you know, showing patients the ultrasound image and explaining what happens,” Lapedis, a fellow with the group Physicians for Reproductive Health, told The Daily Beast. “She said she had been anti-abortion her whole life, and that her whole family was like her—and yet she was so appreciative of the care she received from us. She literally was like, ‘I’m so grateful that I’m able to make this choice for myself.’”

Lapedis’ experience is remarkable in part because she resides in a state with a looming ban on the procedure after six weeks—though the law has so far been held up in court.

“You sometimes have anti people who are like, ‘Promise me no one’s going to find out, my boss cannot know,’ [because] they work in the Republican legislature or something. Which has happened—but this patient was so appreciative.”

Abortion providers across the country are reeling from the fall of Roe, and some face the prospect of legal reprisal from law enforcement in their own state or even other states where patients need help. Almost inevitably, they are reflecting on the many patients they’ve seen who came in for a service they claimed to fervently oppose—and in some cases actively protested against.

“All of us who do abortions see patients quite regularly who tell us, ‘I’m not pro-choice, but I just can’t continue this pregnancy,’” said Dr. Sarah Prager, a professor of obstetrics and gynecology at the University of Washington. “We’ve even seen people coming into the clinic off the protester lines to get their abortion, then return to protesting outside the clinic.” And to be clear, she added, “These are not people who turn anti-choice after having an abortion, but who simply access this essential service when they need it in spite of their personal beliefs about abortion in general.”

According to Prager, the phenomenon is so common that abortion providers have a name for it: the Me Exception.

“We in the movement often say people believe abortion should be legal in cases of rape, incest and ‘me,’ meaning whatever reason is relevant for that person,” she said. And yet, she noted, of the many surveys describing how Americans view abortion, virtually none reflect that reality.

“Anti-choice people have no incentive to be honest about whether or not they’ve had an abortion, and we as physicians would never leak a story about a patient,” she continued. Doing so is prohibited under the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act, or HIPAA, the federal law that protects confidential health information.

Still, health professionals are permitted to discuss cases in general terms, and when asked about patients with anti-choice views this past week, abortion providers had no shortage of sometimes incredible tales about activists deeming themselves an exception to the rule.

Dr. Portia Jones, a family-medicine physician in Washington, recalled the time a woman “whose sister-in-law was the president of a big right-to-life organization” had asked to be “snuck in the back door” of the clinic where she was working in Philadelphia. Then there was “the picketer who brought her daughter in for a procedure and was back on the picket line the next week,” she recalled. On another occasion, a woman came in “and declared to a full waiting room that they were all sinners and should leave immediately,” she said.

“When I drew her aside, I found out she was there for an abortion, too,” Jones told The Daily Beast.

Jones and other abortion providers attributed many such instances to a sense of exceptionalism on the part of patients who decide their situation entitles them to do what they believe other women should—legally—be unable to. “I’ve done a lot of options counseling with patients who had to do some pretty creative moral jujitsu to justify their behavior to themselves,” she added. “But our role is to give people information, to create a space for them where they can make decisions, and to support them in that process.”

While 13 states with so-called trigger laws are poised to be the first to effectively prohibit almost all abortions, roughly two dozen states in total have laws on the books that could be used to sharply restrict the procedure, according to an analysis by the Guttmacher Institute, a research organization that supports abortion rights. The laws are, of course, the product of decades of far-right organizing against reproductive rights, with actions ranging from peaceful protest to the election of anti-choice officials to violent attacks.

But providers said the hypocrisy among the rank and file powering the so-called pro-life movement was glaring.

“I’d say about a third of my patients would reveal in their counseling or during the procedure, you know, ‘I want you to know I’m pro-life, but you understand why this has to be,’” said Dr. Nicholas Gideonse, recalling his work as an abortion provider in rural Oregon. “I think in almost all of those cases, they were making that choice in order to be the best parent that they could be.”

There were certainly those pro-life patients who “stridently insisted that their circumstances were particular and special,” Gideonse added. But there were cases, too, of pro-life patients who came to him seeking compassion.

“I’m remembering a soft-spoken younger woman who felt that I, because I had delivered her other unplanned pregnancy, understood how pro-life she really was and that for this reason I was the person who could perform the procedure she needed now,” he said.

Rather than a one-off, stories about anti-choice activists literally coming off the protest line to seek care were rife. That phenomenon may fade in states where clinics are shutting in the face of legal threats, but providers were confident hardcore activists will continue to seek their care.

Several years ago, Dr. Meera Shah, chief medical officer of Planned Parenthood Hudson Peconic in New York, provided abortion care to one of the protesters regularly outside of her clinic.

“I treated her with compassion and kindness just like I do everyone, knowing that people come to us with their own lived experiences,” she said. “I don’t know what this person was exposed to, or what her community is like—it may be unsafe for folks to express an alternative view [about] abortion in their communities or their families. But I do know that nobody anticipates this. Nobody thinks they’re going to be in that situation. You can have these fixed beliefs around something that you think will never impact you, and then when you’re in the moment, your thoughts around it can change, and that’s very much the case with abortion. We see it all the time.”

In her book, You’re the Only One I’ve Ever Told, Shah explored the everyday reality of abortion care that mainstream political dialogue mostly fails to capture.

“I think that the anti-abortion movement comes at it with very strong preconceived notions,” she said. “Their lived experience has taught them that abortion is bad, so they just run with that. But what they fail to do is keep an open mind and express empathy for those who are going through it. And that’s what got us here.”

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