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#and i remember at the time thinking it was so sad that it was cold because we had been hanging out less and less lately
mclqren · 3 days
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WINNER TAKES IT ALL ★ CS55
PAIRING ✦ carlos sainz x fem!singer!reader
SUMMARY ✦ you and your boyfriend both seem to be very lucky recently: you in opening for taylor swift, and him in winning the australian grand prix [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ cursing
REQUESTED ✦ here!
NOTES ✦ for the purpose of this fic, taylor has added an extra date in melbourne for the friday before the australian grand prix. as per request, the fc i've used is sabrina carpenter, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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yourusername and with that we have one show left: back to melbourne in a couple of weeks! thank you all so much for the support, love you all like crazy 🫶
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user1 you're such a disney princess i can't
user2 DON'T MESS W ME RN IM SO SAD UR NO LONGER OPENING.
user3 FR what will we do without all of her content???
user4 ☹️☹️
carlossainz55 so proud of you!!
yourusername im way prouder of you 💘
user5 PARENTS WOOHOO
taylorswift i'll miss you, my angel! ❤️
yourusername love you sm 😢💘💘
yourusername
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( caption one: just woke up and my boyfriend's got appendicitis hellooo?? wtf have i missed while i've been in singapore. | caption two: never mind guys all is well ❤️ ( i am a photographer and i took THIS photo ) )
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yourusername impromptu visit to jeddah after SOMEONE'S appendix was removed...thanks for giving me an excuse to see you carlos 😘💘💘
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user6 THE WAY HE STILL WENT TO SEE THE GP IS CRAZY ur boyfriend is hella strong
yourusername ur telling me 🤷‍♀️
user6 OMG YOU REPLIED??? I LOVE YOU
user7 nah carlos acc has to be some sort of super human because how THE FUCK did he walk after that surgery.
user8 literally convinced he is atp.
carlossainz55 the appendix wasn't my fault...
charles_leclerc or was it 🤷‍♂️
yourusername hmmm...
user9 i'm acc their biggest fan you don't understand
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yourusername from the bottom of my heart, thank you thank you thank you for all of the love and support i've received over the past couple of weeks. they've honestly been such a fever dream for me: like you're telling me that i was opening for THE taylor swift?? twelve year old me would be screaming right about now, let me tell you that much. i've loved every minute of this experience, and i can't wait to see what era is next for me 🫶
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user13 i still remember watching you when you were eighteen, just releasing music on youtube 🥺
user14 she's come sooo far since then im so proud of her
taylorswift loved having you with me!! couldn't think of anyone else better to keep me company during these times ❤️
yourusername thank you sm tay, im going to miss youuu 💘💘
user15 why am i acc tearing up this is so sad
carlossainz55 now i have you all to myself ❤️
yourusername yeah well you have ur cars AND charles so i guess it's not just me is it.
charles_leclerc why am i being mentioned
yourusername ur just like collateral damage in this argument
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carlossainz55 back from my surgery and into P2 👊 looking forward to the race!
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user16 SMOOTH OPERATOR IS BACKKK
user17 the surgery did NOT hold him back
user18 NO REAL THE GUY WAS FLYINGGG
user19 the extra weight is gone and now he's in first row THIS IS WHAT WE NEEDED
yourusername do you ever actually rest like. ur appendix was just taken out when i get colds i stay in bed longer.
carlossainz55 yeah i know from firsthand experience 😘
user20 SHE'S SO REAL FOR THIS THOUGH
yourusername either way i'm so proud of you! smash it tomorrow 💘
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user21 the way y/n is literally so supportive of him is my fav thing
user22 all whilst telling him off for not resting enough 🤣🤣 she's too iconic for us, i fear
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yourusername me and kika are truly THOSE BITCHES 😘
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user23 SPEAK ON ITTTT 🗣️🗣️🗣️
user24 my fav wags fr 🫶
fransisca.cgomes my girlll 😍😍
yourusername foreverrr 💘
fransisca.cgomes that second pic is soooo yum
yourusername leave pierre for me RIGHT NOW.
fransisca.cgomes gladlyyy! 😍
pierregasly HUH??
yourusername got ur girl tripod how does it feel 🤣
carlossainz55 ❤️❤️
yourusername love youuu!!
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carlossainz55 P1 babyyy!! Onto Japan we go 🎢❤️
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user28 THE SMOOTHEST OPERATOR AROUND
user29 staying up until 2am to watch it was SOOO WORTH IT
user30 SO PROUD!!
yourusername YESSS I KNOW THAT'S RIGHTTT!!
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yourusername MY FUCKING MANNN LET'S GOOO!! P1 BABY 💘💘
carlossainz55 ❤️
user31 the way she supports him will never not warm my heart
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yourusername he only went and did it!! after his appendix got removed and all. couldn't be fucking prouder 💘
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yourusername proud of @/charles_leclerc as well!! what a way to end the weekend 😘
charles_leclerc thank you y/n!! 😍
yourusername FORZA FERRARI 👊
user31 the way they support each other >>>
user32 actual power couple idc
user33 i need to find myself a y/n asap.
user34 WHY ARE YOU SO PERFECT
carlossainz55 te amo siempre ❤️
liked by yourusername
carlossainz55 it was the lack of an appendix that did it 🤣
yourusername @/charles_leclerc are you taking notes??
charles_leclerc already scheduling an appointment for the winter, don't worry 📝
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hellish-sunsets · 3 days
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You're an Asshole - Pt 1 - How it Started
AN: should I focus on my requests or ongoing pics? Yes. Am a writing an Adam x fem!angel!reader where he becomes better out of pure spite? Obviously. Anyways enjoy!
Warnings: lots of swearing
Wordcount: 1,089
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“You're an asshole.”
It was a phrase Adam had heard uttered time and time again with anger imbued in every syllable. Over the thousands of years that passed, not once did that phrase ever bother him. Because he was right, wasn't he? He was Adam, the first man, made to be perfect by the angel's hands themselves. Everyone else could think what they want, it changed nothing about who he was. Even if that knowledge led to the same pride that felled Lucifer, even if this line of thought brought him to the very same sins he condoned the sinners in hell for.
But she called him an asshole, and despite all his ego, or maybe because of it, it hurt. There was no anger behind the words, no hurt. Perhaps there was the faintest trace of sadness, but more than that it was a cold fact. The clouds were white, the sky sat above and the ground below, and Adam the first man was an asshole. 
And for some reason he couldn't comprehend, it ate at him. At first he was angry. He cursed her out, spouted whatever vile and venomous words he could think of. How dare she think so little of him? HIM? He was ADAM, dammit! How dare she? Even after the two separated, he ranted and raved for days until even Lute was getting tired of his bitching, not to mention the others who had the displeasure of being around him at this time.
But then he got quiet, and that was even more terrifying. Adam and quiet did not mean anything good. 
He stayed in his office longer and longer, thinking. Why did it bother him so much? Why was he still thinking about it? That woman, why did her opinion matter so much to him?
He went over the facts to himself, trying to break down what bothered him so much. She was an angel, made in heaven for heaven, part of the heavenly choir. He had never met her before that day, had only heard her voice occasionally. He… supposed he liked her singing, even if the songs were a bit more pansy than his usual rock and roll. Some were pretty hard core, he guessed, just in a different, less angry way. He heard in some passing whispers that she went to various concerts often, but he had never seen her at one of his. 
When he had seen her at his concert that day, he had been… excited? Like her presence was some sort of validation. Not that he needed any fucking shitty validation, especially some pompous stuck up bitch of an angel. Still, he thought it would be fun to talk to her. He can’t even remember what they had talked about, he probably flirted cause hey, a bitch is a bitch. He could hit that. 
But then she called him an asshole, those big eyes staring into his like she was reaching into his very soul, seeing every part of his being and evaluating him as less than good. 
Then he called a meeting with hell, giving a rather… mediocre reason, something he clearly made up and no one remembered. Only two attended the meeting and neither was about to discuss what transpired there. Well, Adam wasn’t about to tell anyone in heaven. Even Lute wasn’t permitted to come with. And Lucifer was too much of a recluse to tell much of anybody.
For his part, Lucifer played along the best he could. He despised when heaven called him to meetings, the feeling paired with anxiety when Adam was there. He went because he had to, but the anxiety was eating him up inside. 
His footsteps on the tile floor echoed through the embassy like gunshots, making him cringe. 
At first, he thought the meeting room would be empty. It was too quiet, and Adam was always too loud, his voice carrying throughout the building, but when he got there he didn’t hear Adam at all. And yet, when he opened the meeting room door, Adam was in fact there. He furrowed his brow at the sight of the man sitting quietly, reading a paper he had in front of him, pen idly tapping against the table. Lucifer frowned and took his seat, the scrape of the chair legs against the tile reverberating through the room. 
A few moments passed before Adam put his paper down, pen clasped between two fingers, and leaned back in his chair. 
“So… this should be a fun meeting for you.” He said, tone… very, very carefully even. It sent an eerie chill down his spine, his scowl deep. This was very unlike Adam, and it concerned him. It felt like something terrible was about to happen and he just didn’t know it yet.
“Right, and that would be because…”
“I am sitting my ass here in front of you, asking you to shit talk me.” Adam said, and Lucifer's mind stuttered for a moment, staring blankly at the first man as he scribbled something else on his paper and looked back up with that stupid mask of his. “Just, like, be fucking honest about it. I asked Lute first, she was a real bitch about it. Figured you’d also be a little bitch about it.”
There was a heavy pause. Lucifer stared at him, just as confused as before. Adam's mask glitches slightly before settling on irritation.
“...but why?”
Adam gave an exaggerated sigh, voice condescending like it had to be obvious and Lucifer was the stupid one for not getting it.
“Because! That fucking bitch! She called me an asshole. Me! And I was told she was chill to hang with. Fucking bullshit! Now I've got a point to prove! I can be fucking nice. I can be downright delightful! I'll fucking show her! So, dipshit, tell me what makes me an asshole.”
“There it is.” Lucifer said with an exhausted sigh, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He though a moment, a twisted sort of smile slowly spreading over his face. “How much time do we have?”
When Adam returned from his meeting, he was in an absolutely foul mood. His anger radiated off of him and affected everyone he passed like a fog of irritation. But he had his stupid fucking list, crumbled in his fist, ink smudged but still readable.
He would show that fucking stuck up bitch! He would be the most fucking delightful bastard in all of fucking creation, or fucking die trying!
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meowanian · 3 days
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chapter 5 : which one?
cats & books main masterlist
author note: should i make a playlist 🧐
well i just made one lol
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you waved at scara while trying to put your headphones in your bag and holding the umbrella steady.
“hi, hi, hi! again, sorry for making you wait! i had to go back to get my umbrella…” you said with a shy manner.
“hey, it’s okay. bus should be here soon anyway-” his word were cut off by the little vampire who was trying his best to make it out of the pet bag.
“meow!!” dracula was meowing and hissing at scara who was just trying to calm him down.
“hi little vamp…” you said quietly and kneeled down to his height. “did you remember me?”
the cat was calming down slowly with your entrance.
“yes! just like that little boy…you are so cute!” you continued to talk to the cat with baby voice and shove your finger into the bag from the little holes.
“stop, he might bite you!” scara said and tried to pull your hand but cat was quick to humble him by licking your finger. “oh…”
“i think he likes me!” you said with joy and clapped your hands, nothing else was better than being loved by a cat.
“yeah,” he mumbled, mesmerised by your existence. “i think he really likes you…”
“oh,” you said and pointed at the bus. “the bus came.”
you two quietly got on the buss and sat at the back seats.
the raindrops were hitting the window and making relaxing sounds, dracula was purring in his little bag. the bus was warm and you two were close, close enough for your arms to touch.
you slowly put your head down on to his shoulder. few seconds later you were able to feel how cold he was even with thick winter clothes.
“you are cold…” you whispered.
“and you’re warm.” he whispered back.
“haha,” you giggled a little at his response.
“we will getting off the bus at the next stop.”
“okay…”
after a short, silent trip to the veterinary, it was time to give dracula to the hands of the professionals.
“our appointment should be finished in one and half hour…” the vet said while checking the pet’s informations.
“we will be here in time.” scara said and looked at his nervous cat. “it’s okay buddy, i will come back.” he petted cats head slowly and waved at him.
“so you can be cute too?” you said and wiggled your eyebrows.
“hah?” he scoffed at your comment. “I’m not cute.”
“okay…buddy!” you said and laughed at his reddened cheeks.
“whatever…so what do you want to do? we have 1 hour.” he said and looked at your eyes. now it was your time to get shy.
“u-uhm…i actually want to buy a book, maybe we can go to a second-hand bookseller. they actually have pretty interesting books….like i once bought a book and it had a dried flower and a little note which says ‘to my soulmate…’ and it was actually so sad because the book was literally a hundred year old and the owner probably died and no one reached out to him….” you said with watery eyes as you told your little memory to him. “o-oh, sorry sometimes i start to yap about anything and everything…”
“no, it’s okay, it was an interesting story. and i would like to go to a bookseller by the way, i like reading books sometimes.” he said and sighed, remembering how much his mother liked to read.
“i know one near by, it is my favourite. the old couple who owns the place is soooo cute! they even gifted me a poetry book once!”
“it sounds cool…” he smiled at your excitement.
“here, we should enter this weird street…”
“how did you even found this place?” he asked with concern.
“i accidentally followed a cat too long and i ended up here, haha…” you laughed awkwardly. “
“let’s look around!” you said and grabbed him by his arm.
“okay, okay, calm down…” he said and shook his head.
“oh, look it’s that cat!” you pointed at the cat and giggled. “look at him just lying there…no worries in his little head…”
“haha, really!” he said and laughed. it was the first time he laughed in front of you. you suddenly felt your cheeks getting warm and your heart beating faster. he was beautiful.
“what are you looking at?” he asked with a mocking expression.
“n-nothing…” you scoffed and turned around.
you two looked around the bookstore for a while.
“i think i will buy this one…” you said and pointed the romance book in your hands. he nodded, you went to purchase the book. little did he know there was a second one in your other hand, one for you and one for him.
“i thinks it’s time, we will be nearly there if we catch the bus now…”
“uhm,” you mumbled.
“did you say something?” he asked.
“uhh…nothing, nothing!”
“okay..?”
when you arrived at the vet, you got dracula and went back to outside of the clinic.
“soo,” you said. “it’s time to say bye.”
“yeah,” he said and looked away.
“can we…meet again? like not for…” you said but couldn’t finish the sentence.
“yes, we can. not for the dracula this time.”
“okay,” you smiled, he smiled. you waved goodbye and bounced back to your home with a smile on your face.
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Taglist: @shutingstar @hiraethhv @chemiru @pumpkincitrus @kaitfae @veekoko @featuredtofu @vernith @yuni05 @swivy123 @ainnofinway @ayanasss @luvilyz @franaby @yotraumainthebuilding @morygyyyyyyy @karma-gisa @luvilyz @m0uchie
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shamelessfaceless · 18 hours
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Love, Pain, Death, Repeat
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Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x F!reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision
Summary: Even death won't help you get rid off her and pain she caused.
Warnings: Mentions of death, cheating, angst
Wc: 600
A/n: Just a fast sad blurb, hope you like this <33
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Your mouth is dry, completely opposite to your eyes. Pinning Natasha to the ground you let your tears fall. It wasn't supposed to be like that, but after hearing what you needed to do, you were sure it was the time.
"Think about Yelena! Your facking sister! Think what would she say if I told her that you killed yourself!" You yelled at her though she was so close to you she would hear your whispers.
"And you? You have a whole life ahead of you! You're so young! You are doing what you need, you're nice and brave, you put others before you, you are a hero people need!"
"I don’t have anyone! Anyone! I spent last years crying in my room! People don’t remember me! I don’t even remember who I am."
"Y/N" She tried to change positions. You didn't let her. You couldn't let her.
"I am not enough. I never was. Everyone knows Black Widow or Iron Man or Hawkeye! Even she showed me I was never enough!" You were almost sobbing, your tears falling on Natasha’s suit. "She choosed fucking microwave!"
When you saw Wanda for the first time, you fell almost in the same second. Literally fell. You wanted to come closer, but your legs had other plans, and you fell straight into her arms. This made her laugh. That was the first thing that actually made her show positive emotions after her brother died. Most of the night spended in your room only talking changed into spending nights in yours and hers own room. After your old relationships you were negative about love, but you started trusting her, it meant so much for you. She promised you stars. It didn't take long for her to take interest in Vision. You trusted her with your whole heart, and all she did was break it. He was just a robot, you thought you didn't need to care about him. Maybe he was a little bit too nice to Wanda, but she wouldn’t fall for cold metal, right? Oh how wrong you were. After one of the missions, you came back to your room just to see her covered in hickeys that for sure weren’t yours. You just sat on the floor and told her to get out.
"You will meet someone else. Just give yourself a chance. For fucking sake, if you let yourself forget her, you will find true love and maybe have kids or cats." Russian was strong, you started feeling like your arms were going to give up.
"She cheated on me, and soon after she disappeared. Women always choose men." You said disgustedly. Your every relationships ended because they chose to be with men. "Tell everyone I loved them." You stabbed her hand to distract her.
You started running to the end of the cliff. Black Widow’s screams didn’t stop you. Just as you jumped you looked behind to see Natasha, she was so close catching you, just a few seconds and you would be still alive. You smiled to her wondering if she could see it, and closed your eyes. Last thing in your mind was the memory of one specific lazy morning with Maximoff. Morning when she promised you cozy life, no avengers, just you and her in a big house and kids.
Opening your eyes you expected to see your dead parents, not two young boys.
"Good morning my love." Your head snapped to the door of the room. Wanda stood there, width smile on her lips, her eyes shining a little bit with red.
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wordsbymae · 2 days
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The Fisherman Pt. 1
Continues from the prologue that you can find on my masterlist. I actually really struggled with this one, I have so many ideas of where to take it, that I couldn't really choose one consistent way of bridging it to where I want it.
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The fog curled around the bay, seeping into the cracks and crevices of the island. You imagined the fog being devoured by the land itself, nourishing the barren, desolate rock you were forced to call home. The sky was near black, the sun suffocated by dark clouds. Rain pelted down, leaving harsh lines along the window you looked out from. You shivered in slight fear as the small house shook from a powerful burst of wind. The storm was frightening in its power, the lighthouse overlooking the bay failing to make a difference.
You felt nothing but disappointment.
Disappointed the fisherman was not amongst the waves. You had hoped his boat would have been dashed across the jagged rocks lining the cliffs. Instead, he made his presence known by the sound of his heavy footfalls up the old wooden stairs. He pauses for a brief moment at the last step, his weight shifting slightly. An audible creak lifting into the air. Your eyes were still trained solely on the waves crashing against the rocks. Even above the rain and wind, you could still hear the constant sound of the bay in all its chaos. You shifted your gaze from the bay to the fisherman's reflection. His sad, lonely eyes staring back at you. Almost as if he was willing you to turn around.
His mouth opens.
Then shuts.
He looks down back the stairs, weighing his options. He shifts his weight onto his back foot, the decision of leaving you alone silently on his mind.
You begin to left out a breath you'd been holding.
His weight shifts again, the creaking of the wood signalling your fate.
He begins to walk to you. You suck back in a breath, straighten your back and close your eyes.
He stops mere inches away from you. You can smell the salt on his skin and feel the heat he provides. In this cold, decaying house he felt like hell fire.
Your eyes remained shut, your ears listening to his shallow, frantic breaths, almost in time with the waves breaking on the rocks.
You open your eyes slowly, willing him to be gone. He stood silently behind you, eyes fixated on yours in the reflection.
"Will you come for supper?" he croaks, struggling to articulate each word. You struggle to remember a time you've heard his voice. Even before he took you kicking and screaming from your small village by the sea, you could hardly say you've ever heard anything from his mouth. Not even a whisper.
You turn to face him, eyes dull and lifeless. You could feel a dull ache in your belly, you imagined it was hunger. Though in the week you have been trapped within these walls, you failed to feel anything but despair. Not even the pains of hunger or the dryness of your throat for the want of water could compare to the growing emptiness within you.
You stare into his eyes. They unnerve you. So bright and cold. You remarked to yourself that they seem to be mimicking humanity rather than being of it. Looking into his eyes filled you with dread. You turned your attention back to the window, away from his soulless eyes.
"No thank you" you answer, keeping your voice level. His shoulders sag at the reply, you had been sitting at this window in the attic for hours now. Before that, the window in the kitchen. Before that, your eyes were focused on the ceilings rafters in your bedroom, counting each strand of the spiders webs swaying like flags in the breeze that floated into the house.
He sighs, disappointment flows across his face, before a dull spark of emotion makes its home on his face. You think for a second it is guilt or maybe just the way the rain on the window muddles his reflection.
You watch as his hand ruffles into his pocket, the same time another gust of wind pushes against the house. You don't fear it this time round.
His hand removes itself from the abyss it found itself in. You can't see what is inside his hand, only catching a bright glimmer of gold. It blinds you for a moment, until you blink, and the glimmer turns to nothing. He ponders for a moment, a finger plays around the edges of the small object in your hand.
"I have this for you" his voice is smoother this time, still harsh, but mellowed in its little usage. His face still looking upon the object. Eyes becoming focused purely on the motions he conducts with his finger.
He blinks slowly and lifts his gaze towards you.
You turn to face him, eyes slowly falling upon his open palm. He reaches it towards you in a silent offering. He needs not to say a word, the action screams loudly at you instead.
'Please, Please, Please, Please, Please'
Asking for what you don't know. You've tried to ponder his motives, his desires, but he never made them known.
A small golden ring laid upon his palm, a dark lilac gem sat amongst vines of gold, the gem catches the light with ease, another bright glimmer catches your gaze.
There is something about it, the craftmanship, the way light seemed to bend itself away from it, the cold that radiated from it. Without thought your hand inches towards it, hesitating just as you begin to grasp the metal.
You doubt his intentions, his motive behind gifting you this strange yet beautiful artifact. He stole you from your home, ripped you from your family, marooned you amongst a decaying house upon a desolate island. But as you gazed into the gem, the specks of gold, silver and lilac dancing in the light, the worries amongst your mind floated away, devoured like fog into the cracks of the island.
Before you truly comprehended what was occurring, the ring was slipped onto your left ring finger. You weren't even sure if it was you who did it.
Now nestled on your hand, it was warm, it felt like it had been there for years. But of course it does, because it had been there for years. Hadden it? The feeling of emptiness and despair lifted from you in a second, collected with your worries and floated away to be consumed. In fact, what exactly were you upset about? You know you had felt something, or maybe the absence of something. But it was gone, as if you were waking from a strange and unsettling dream. You admired the ring upon your finger, just as you lifted your gaze to admire your husband. He was so good to you, providing for you, protecting you. Because that is what husbands do, right?
The rain continued, even falling harder, the clouds finally succeeded in diminishing the last of the suns light, and darkness descended upon the bay. Yet, it was all perfect. The chaos and the violence of nature was so so so perfect. Everything was. Because of cause it was. You had your husband, your love, right in front of you. Everything would forever be perfect with him.
A bright smile broke across your face. You wondered for a brief second why it felt so unnatural. Oh well, these feelings come and go.
Your husband's face shone with delight at your display of emotion. A dry, flustered laugh began to emerge from his mouth.
"Do you love me?" he urged, hands rough from work gripping onto yours, thumb playing with your wedding band.
"Of course I do...um...husband!" you giggled back, stopping only to realise you have forgotten his name. How could you forget your husband's name? How embarrassing! Oh well, these things happen.
He allowed himself to finally laugh, a desperate, ugly display of pure joy. You laughed along side him, not understanding why he felt the need to display such a sight.
A feeling began creeping over you as he continued, you couldn't quite place it. It wasn't very nice though, it was harsh and almost wet in feeling, like your heart was being drowned under a roaring current. Your laughs began to mutate, from those of joy to laughs of fear, what was this growing inside you? It felt slimy and ugly, pushing out from within, like a creature desperate to be released. Tears began to flood your eyes. The pain of this feeling encompassed your body. Your husband still laughed, why couldn't he see your tears? Why didn't he feel this grip of dread that overwhelmed you?
Sobs began to rack your frame, breaths came out if huffs and gasps for breath, you didn't understand anything. Who was this man? Surely if you were married you would know him by name? Surely you would feel safe with him, but instead fear and sorrow encompassed the air you shared between you.
You looked down to your joined hands and a gleam of purple stopped your questions. The gleam grows, pulsating in beat with your heart, your cries softened, the feeling of dread and fear slowly slithered away, back down deep deep deep deep inside you.
You looked up. Oh! Your husband was looking at you, with...fear?
"Is everything okay husband?" you ask. Head tilting, tears drying upon your face. Had you been crying? Surely not.
"Yes, yes of course my love. Everything is absolutely perfect he rushes, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
You smile back.
Everything is perfect.
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originalcontent · 4 months
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I can't find art of my ship anywhere so I GUESS that means I have to make it myself, here are some doodles.
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manasurge · 6 months
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Tis' the season where I mentally and physically suffer. Complaining below (feel free to ignore, I'm just venting. I usually do this every year to get most of it out of my system lol):
mmm the fall/winter SAD is indeed in full swing. No warmth + no sun = a bad bad time. I always get so annoyed when ppl assume that I love winter bc I'm a "winter baby", as if that has any sort of divine intervention on instantaneously adapting you to perfectly fit the climate you were born in. NOPE. Silly human superstition. I start to freeze once it hits below 20C. I wish I lived in a warmer climate o|-< The depresso is probably going to make me very whiny and moody until next spring, so an early forewarning bc I'm EXTREMELY annoying about it this time of year bc it's the only way I know how to deal with it. But moreso in addition to the physical stuff is how badly it messes with my mind, making me so depressed to the point of just... sitting in non-moving silence where I become stiff as a board (very painful btw) and I isolate, making the bad depresso brain time even worse where I overthink everything bc of the silence and isolation. It's also always the time of year where everyone goes quiet too, which is understandable, but also makes things 10x worse (I am very alone in my life and where I am, and kind of rely on online friends bc they're all I have. I don't even have a pet. I'm literally just, loner mode. I don't really have much family to speak of, and only one family member I do speak to. I have little to no connections at all. But regardless, this is still the best living situation I've been in my whole life, so that's saying something).
#i hate the cold; I hate ice; cold air hurts my skin and burns my lungs#i hate snow (I'm sorry I just don't think it's pretty. It's gross; erases all colour/everything; blinding; kills everything; claustrophobic#I hate long nights; i hate all the darkness#I take Vitamin D drops every day during winter and they don't really help#I also use those special lights meant to help during the long darkness for the same reason; and they also do not help#nothing works!!!!!! eating and drinking hot things doesn't help me stay warm bc heat dissipates away quickly and doesn't help my extremitie#the cold makes me SO dry and dehydrated; makes my bones hurt; makes outside DANGEROUS AF. ICE IS BAD. BE CAREFUL.#I can't retain heat; my hypothyroidism makes me colder by default and I just don't metabolize good/fast enough to keep myself warm#(my body temp is lower than average; fun fact! same with my blood pressure! both of them are very low)#I think my average from all the times I've had it scanned during covid was 32-36C. No idea how that works; I just remember checking it a lo#my fingers and hands are going to freeze; making it harder to draw/type/etc.#I'm not going to wear gloves inside my home bc that's dumb and they don't help anyways. It will just screw up my ability to use my hands#I get to be in pain for months with increased potential of being sick :/#also I HATE bundling/layering myself with clothing or blankets; it's suffocating; restricting; sensory hell for me; sweaters are uncomfy :(#also whenever I try to do that all it does is insulate the cold for me; keeping me colder for even longer!!!!! it's so unfair!!!!#I've worn out 2 space heaters already and they don't work properly anymore (I used them both so much I wore out my preferred settings lol)#sobs; i'm a sad plant lizard
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stressedjester · 2 months
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Abusers will emotionally neglect you, find ways to personally insult you, and purposefully trigger you but as soon as you snap suddenly they're the victim and you're actually the abuser because they're "walking on eggshells" when they were actually just beating you down as much as possible and realized you're not always gonna be submissive and you're gonna lash out from mistreatment
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I’m sad, I’ve had a bunch of fun cool ideas sitting in the back of my head since like new years which I wanted to use for rare pair week, but like life has been kicking my ass so I didn’t have time to even start anything and now it’s over :( guess they will just keep living in my head until next year
#this is if I’m also not dying next year… which is unlikely#don’t do what I do. don’t work full time and do school full time. especially when you’re doing a dual graduate degree program. I’m in hell#brain screams#it especially makes me sad cause when I started writing fics in the summer it made me SO happy to be writing again!!!#especially about sailor moon!!! one of my special intrests and fav shows of all time!! it makes my brain SO HAPPY!!!#as I keep telling myself - just cause I don’t make these things now doesn’t mean I can do them in the future. my ideas will still be there#I can write the fics I want and finish the YouRube videos I’ve started. I can make silly little doodles and comics and short animations#I can take my Venus plus on hikes and exploring and to wonderful places!! we can go to museums and cafes and concerts!!#we can go to the ocean and climb mountains and get lost in the forest and get muddy and wet and cold and sit by campfires and climb on logs#I can take my not fully fleshed out idea of using her and my other plushes to make a sort of live action stop motion skit video!!#I want to be creative and free and have fun and live my life and pursue my passions!!#but rn… all i do is work. work and homework and class and homework. until I’m so fatigued I can’t walk and I can’t sleep and I can’t think#to be real watching the anime and having the codename: sailor v and stars arc of the manga is like one of the few things getting me through#when I’m so tired I can’t think I have those as comforts so I’m not sitting on the couch wanting to die#I find so much comfort in existing in the space of this fictional universe and I draw strength from the characters#like sailor moon helping me get through some of the hardest fucking shit I’ve ever done in my life. and helping me remember to love myself#also lowkey helping me fight off my depression and ed and substance abuse issues#I just both get so much joy and comfort from this space but also I feel I owe it so much gratitude for kinda helping me from crumbling#I want to also contribute to this space cause it gives me joy to do so and cause i want to give back and contribute to others joy as well#like it’s a combo of I love this and want to and also as a form of gratitude i want to and also to help others experience joy I want to#but… I don’t have the time or energy now. and if my life keeps going on like this. will I ever? I’ve never let myself slow down.#idk if I ever will :( oh well
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dockaspbrak · 2 years
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Bekfjfkfnfhf
#man im so tired.#my planner is just chock a block with shit to do and people keep. asking what im doing and going oh god thats a lot#like. i feel like last time i took 12 credits everyone was saying theyre taking 16#but i take 16 and an internship and everyones really piling on what i already know is a lot#fuck. im tired all the time and sad and#you know when youre overwhelmed and a coma sounds nice?#hhhh plus i think like pmdd is acting up bc im so .... emotional. cringe. i wish i didnt have my stupid advanced pms bullshit#i wish i could yakno...... go into a cabin and not come out#i always think of a like from one of those famous poet ladies on here#where she says sometimes i will be distant and cold and you will not be able to reach me#i dont even remember her name ugh god#i also think i didnt cancel my met opera thing#😰☠️#at least i could watch the queen of spaced while i do shit but. also. probably not bc id probably need to pay attention#but ......... i really will only b there for dmitri ?#but no ill get sucked into the plot#i love tragedies like that. hubris and greed drive you to tragedy#nrjfnfofnfn it just is so lonely but i just have to wait it out#object permance issues really suck. i should mark this on my planner so i can quantify predictions for how long this will last#hehfjfjfjf#also like i met w a girl last night and she was so extroverted. i was hopeful she might want to be friends but#wow did i ever feel incompetent socially#i just. could hear the boring shit i said. and like. I REMEMBER I USED TO HE FUNNY#i just am worse at masking now i guess#out of practice. and this bullshit emotional trouble from my horrible malfunctioning brain#ugh sorry if you read this thanks though dubfjfn#personal
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angryborzois · 4 months
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ngl another part i miss about my old school was how interesting every day was
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osaemu · 6 months
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GOJO SATORU: THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER
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✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: what do you do when your boyfriend cheats? you go to his house and look for revenge, and you get it by fucking his dad! NSFW
contents: fem!reader. age gap, blowjob, praise, degradation, use of slut, slight dumbification, dirty talk, and possibly more. 2.6K words.
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you should've known that dating a rich boy came with more than just the money—it came with a shitty boyfriend too. 
as you walk to his house, rain falling in your eyes, you curse every time he had you do his homework, his bills, even his fucking laundry. that's what you get for dating the spoiled heir to the massive gojo fortune.
you step onto the gojo estate's porch, wondering what possessed you to come all the way here in the middle of the night without an umbrella. thank god you still had the key your ex had given you, since he was too stupid to remember to take it back after he dumped you.
hands shaking from the cold, you slip the key into the lock and turn, a small smile dancing across your lips when it opens as easily as your ex's legs. he was probably out fucking another girl right now, if the pictures on his instagram story were any hint of his whereabouts.
you push the door open with your shoulder and dry your feet on the doormat. his parents are never home, and it's late enough for the staff to have all gone back to their quarters. besides, even if one or two were still here, they probably didn't know you weren't their spoiled brat's girlfriend anymore.
humming the post-breakup revenge song you'd been listening to for the past hour, you tie up your hair and look around. the only reason you walked all the way here in the middle of a dark, stormy night was for revenge, and you weren't leaving without it.
on the way to your ex's room, you stop in one of the bathrooms to dry off. rainwater slides off your body as you wring out your hair in the sink, water dripping down your wrist as you do so.
you walk the familiar path to your ex's room, rolling your eyes when you see a bra on the floor that definitely isn't yours. funnily enough, you aren't surprised. there's no hurt, no sadness, just disgust. your suspicions were right—he was fucking other girls while the two of you dated. 
a sigh slips through your lips as you look around his room. it's messy, even with the help from the gojo estate's numerous staff. they say bigger rooms naturally look cleaner, and yet your ex's room still manages to mirror his mind—filthy.
you're so immersed in the thousand ideas you have to ruin your ex's life that when a deep, sleep-ridden voice asks you what the fuck you're doing in his house, you nearly jump out of your skin.
you spin around, words caught in your throat when you come face-to-face with satoru gojo, your ex-boyfriend's dad and the infamous head of the gojo family.
it's more than shameful that the first thought you have is that shit, he's hot. you've met before, but it was only in passing. satoru's never around, and the extent of your relationship was a brief nod as he passed you in one of the many passageways in the gojo estate. in fact, you aren't entirely sure if he even knows who you are.
satoru gojo's well-known in japan—not only is he the reason the gojo family has its reputation, but he's made quite a name for himself by being the most affluent and handsome of them all. 
you've heard stories about him back in his prime. most sound too far-fetched to be true, but the photos of him in his twenties that resurface from time-to-time make good material for your late-night fantasies. 
and satoru's even more intimidating in person. he's easily over six feet tall with well-defined muscles, and he's the definition of a dilf. he's probably twice your age, but the glint in his eyes and casual arrogance in his stance makes him all the more attractive.
it's a shame his son is such a dickhead.
"are you one of my son's whores?" satoru asks dryly, eying the bra on the floor. you scowl and kick it away, a soft huff slipping through your lips.
"no, i'm— wait, he never told you?" you cut yourself off with the question, a hint of incredulous disbelief in your tone. 
satoru shrugs, reaching up to ruffle his hair. his shirt slides up just enough to expose his abs, which are really fucking hot by any standards. "if you're asking about my son, he thankfully leaves me out of his sex life," he says amusedly. "so, who are you? and what the hell are you doing in my house this late?"
"i—" well, you couldn't just say you were here to ruin his son's life. "uh, i'm his... girlfriend."
satoru barks out a laugh, looking down at you through his long, white eyelashes. "really? you sure you're dating my son?"
you narrow your eyes and nod. satoru shakes his head, slipping one of his hands in his pocket and gesturing to the bra on the floor with the other. "either you aren't his girlfriend or you just found out he's cheating. which is it?"
well, you tried. "both." satoru raises his eyebrows at that and takes a seat on the chair across from his son's bed, exhaling as he does so. 
"so, sweetheart, what's the story?" he asks, a bored expression on his face. he leans back and spreads his legs enough for you to wonder what it'd be like to be in between them. 
not sensing that you really have a choice, you sit on the corner of his son's bed and start explaining. at first, you sugarcoat his son's actions, not wanting to sound like a whiny brat, but at one point he interjects with a sigh.
"i know my son," he says dryly, brushing his floppy white hair out of his eyes. "and i also know a liar when i see one."
"s' that so?" you mutter under your breath, ignoring the way satoru's eyes narrow at your side comment. from then on, you list every detail of just how shitty your ex was to you. you tell satoru how his son made you fold his clothes, how he dragged you to parties even when you swore you had homework, how he'd make you fu—
you stop there, not wanting to divulge every detail of your sex life. sure, your ex forced you to fuck him every night in every way he knew existed from watching porn, but that wasn't for his dad to know.
satoru, who's been listening intently for the last five minutes, studies your irritated expression thoughtfully. rather than comment on the way you suddenly stopped ranting, he asks, "so you're here for revenge?"
you nod, crossing your legs. satoru eyes you for another second before placing his hands on his knees and standing up with a soft grunt. "do whatever you want, but i want you out of my house in fifteen minutes. and whatever you do stays in this room. no fire."
satoru looks down at you and raises an eyebrow. "is that clear?"
it would be easier to agree if satoru wasn't looking down at you with an expression like that on his face. it's somewhere between mild irritation and disgust—whether it's directed at you or his son, you're not sure, but he probably has better things to do than listen to some girl's breakup story. so you nod, and satoru starts to leave.
just before he steps out the door, you think of a really fucking insane idea—one that would absolutely shatter your ex. and for some reason, you say it out loud.
"you should fuck me."
oh my god.
satoru turns around slowly, hand clenched around his phone. "the fuck?"
you swallow, eyes wide and a stupid grin plastered on your face. "shit, i—" you were ready to apologize for just about every word you've ever said, but satoru holds up his hand before you can start, cutting you off.
he scoffs, blue eyes glimmering with either amusement or annoyance. "you really are a piece of work, aren't ya?" satoru narrows his eyes, surveying you critically. his gaze settles on the way your shaky hands, and you hide them behind your back self consciously.
"you want me to fuck you on my son's bed?" he says dryly, stifling a laugh. when you force yourself to nod, he grins. "not bad, sweetheart. not bad at all."
"i-is that a yes?" you hate yourself for stuttering, but it makes satoru laugh.
"sure, why not?" he says, walking over to where you're still sitting on his son's bed and resting a hand on your shoulder. satoru rubs the side of your neck with his thumb, cerulean eyes fixed on your lips. "might be about time to teach my son a lesson anyways."
satoru's agreement surprises you enough to make your mouth fall open, and soon enough, his dick replaces the empty space between your lips.
"shit, you're takin' me so good, baby," satoru groans, hand tangled in your hair as he pushes his dick deeper into your throat. "yeah, that's it, jus' like tha— fuck," he cuts himself off with a breathy laugh as you nearly choke.
he's big, way bigger than your ex, and you wonder how his dad's big dick gene skipped him. and even better, satoru's skilled too. he knows how to fuck you good, and you can tell that it's from experience, not from watching porn—unlike his lame excuse of a son.
"tell me, sweetheart," satoru drawls, looking down at you with a cheeky smile. "was my son half as good as i am in bed?"
when you shake your head no, satoru clicks his tongue in disapproval. "shit, now y're gonna expect every guy you fuck with to be as good as me. well, sorry 'bout that, because they aren't."
at least you know where his son gets his arrogance from. 
it's getting a little hard to breathe, especially since you have ten inches of dick shoved down your throat. despite all satoru's talk, you can tell that he's getting close to cumming down your throat—his eyes are twitching and his breaths are starting to become more and more shaky as you suck him off. soon enough, the coil in his stomach snaps and he cums, cursing and praising you as he does. satoru's grip on your hair tightens, and it's borderline painful as he tugs you deeper by the hair.
"shit, that was the best head i've had in a while," he groans after his breathing starts to go back to normal. satoru grins at you, shaking his head and pinning you on your back on the bed.
"you've already been fucked by a gojo here, haven't you?" satoru cooes, tracing your jawline with one of his fingers. "tch, i'll fuck you better than my shithead son ever could. show ya the reason we gojos have a reputation for our dicks."
and fuck, he does. after quickly making you cum on his fingers with the excuse of loosening you up, he roughly shoves his dick in your already-throbbing pussy with a grin. he's so fucking big that you've convinced he's gonna rip you in half.
"g-gojo, i can't—"
"sure y'can," he cuts you off, jaw tightening as you tighten around him. "fuckin' hell, you're just tight as a virgin. my son must be shit in bed, yeah?"
"mhm," you hum, tilting back your head and gasping for air as you feel your body heat up. "shit— right there—"
satoru grins, dipping his head and meeting your tear-lidded eyes. he's far from gentle—it's barely been a couple minutes and your back is already in the highest arch of your life, and it's hard to form coherent thoughts as satoru continues bullying his cock into your pussy.
you lose track of time easily—fuck, you forget there's even a world outside of whatever this is. at some point your tongue falls out of your mouth, lolling to the side as your eyes roll back—just a dumb slut for satoru; or at least that's what he calls you.
as you approach what must be the hundredth orgasm of the night, satoru asks you to say his name. it's almost embarrassing how much effort it is to say—he's fucked you dumb enough to the point where you're a babbling mess.
"shit, you can't even talk," satoru says with a grin, flicking your forehead playfully. "cute." he rests his elbow by your head and shoves his hand over your mouth, amusement dancing in his eyes. "you talk too much anyways, princess. take a break."
you whine against his hand and satoru shakes his head, a faux pout on his face. "c'mon, it's not like you can talk anyways," he tsks. his next thrust is particularly rough, and you can't seem to remember who the name of the dickhead who got you in this situation—what was your ex's name again? does it matter?
"yeah i can" you mumble, voice muffled by satoru's hand. when his pout deepens, you can't help but giggle, a sound that soon turns to a squeal when he pushes the side of your face into the mattress.
"what's so funny?" satoru grumbles, dipping his head and pressing his lips against the hand seperating your mouth from his. satoru's glimmering eyes are fixed on yours as a cheeky smile spreads across his face. "fine then."
he pulls out, cursing under his breath as he presses his back to the headboard. satoru ignores the hm? that slips out of your lips and removes his hand from your mouth, resting it on his dick instead and stroking it with a smirk. "what is it, princess?"
"wha— why'd you stop?"
satoru lifts his other wrist, studying the watch on it and turning his hand so you can see too. your vision is still so fucked up that the numbers look like swimming otters, but you can vaguely make out the time.
"it's been fifteen minutes, kid. time to go."
your mouth falls open and you sit up, still breathing heavily. one second you're having the best sex of your life, and the next your ex's dad is calling you kid and telling you it's time to go?
"not fair," you mumble, pulling your legs into your chest and resting your head on your knees. "that was a stupid time limit," you huff, chest heaving. "i couldn't have done anything to him in fifteen minutes anyways."
satoru snorts, stretching his arms and resting his hands behind his head. "i'd say we did something in those fifteen minutes," he says dryly, white hair falling into his eyes. 
"hmph."
satoru raises his eyebrows, biting the inside of his lip as he continues stroking himself. you notice the way his abs flex and tense the closer he gets; something that shouldn't be as attractive as it is.
"can't believe my dumbass son fucked up so badly with a girl like you," he groans after a minute, back resting against the headboard as he continues stroking his dick. "won't be seein' you around here again, huh?"
you blink, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as satoru eyes you intently. "what d'you mean?"
before satoru can answer, the two of you hear footsteps, and before either of you can do anything, standing in the doorway to his own room is your ex, a giggling girl on his arm. the faint scent of alcohol floods through your nose as they stumble in, and it's all you can do to stop yourself from laughing when your ex sees that his bed is already occupied.
"why the hell is my dad in bed with my ex-girlfriend?!"
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titsdelicate · 8 months
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it's been a year since i lied to you and told you that yes ive moved on so can we please be friends again. can you really blame me? i thought getting good at suppressing our memories from that one month meant moving on. i didn't know that i would feel a lump in my throat when you called me suddenly in the middle of a sunday even tho the plan was to talk once a week and we had talked only 3 days before. i didn't know i would feel butterflies in my stomach when i heard your laugh so close to my ear, but can you really blame me for being reminded of you giggling talking about the logistics of kissing on your study table?
but it's been another year since we've talked on the phone. those memories are so distant and blurry and full of light and happiness that i can't even believe they happened to me, it feels like they happened to a different person. so you don't have to worry, because ive moved on now.
remember when i used to tell you that i miss you so much i can't think about anything else, that i spend all my day reading our old chats? and you used to say, you need to stop and there are other people in the world? well, you don't have to worry about feeling uncomfortable now. i passed the exam i failed because i was too heartbroken over you. i go to tuitions and then i go to internship and i come home so late that all i do is eat and sleep. ive been doing better these days.
and you were right, there are other people in the world. but do you know, i asked a girl to come watch barbie with me, and she made a disgusted expression and said she'd already watched it and she hated it? this happened after we shared a coffee and realising we live next to each other and finding out that she watches kdramas and i listen to kpop. so surprising isn't it? someone who probably understands toxic masculinity and gender roles are fucked up still has internalised misogyny in her? nobody can compare to you, you lecturing me about feminism in tenth standard and your little book club with assigned reading as a thousand splendid suns and you having tears in your eyes showing us harry styles with pride flags in his concerts and you being mean and blunt saying i need to talk about my internalised homophobia. im starting to think you were one in a million and i was a fool to lose you, and an even bigger fool to have had you back and then lose you again.
but do you understand now? you told me you didn't, two years ago. i asked you, don't you understand that i was going crazy dealing with my psychotic family and i was depressed and tired and couldn't talk? and you said no, you're sorry, you really don't, you don't understand how someone can not share why they're sad to the person they supposedly love the most in the world. as i was writing this, daylight by taylor swift started playing. ironic, isn't it? there are many memories ive tried to erase from that one month, but this one i cannot forget- me coming into your room the night we planned and asking you if you're sure about this and is this like an experiment thing a oh what's kissing like thing or is it a we're in love with each other thing, and you smiling softly and saying girl yes i am sure it is one hundred percent a we're in love thing.
ive been getting better at sharing my sadness with my loved ones. my parents haven't stopped fighting, my dad shouted at my mom today morning because my brother lost the car keys, but it's okay, ive learned to tune it out. he only lives here for half a month, he stays somewhere else the other half so it's been easier to bear. my sister moved out, finally. ive been sad because of it but i know she's obviously happier there so it's okay. we have a neighbor and they have this tiny tiny annoying si kid she always comes to her house after her mom scolded her to sulk and watch tv with us. how is your little sister doing? i think of her when our neighbor devil comes. and how is your mom doing? are they settling in well to the new city? and how are you doing? have you been okay? we don't have to be exes trying to be friends again. but can't we just be childhood friends (if age 15 was childhood) who drifted apart briefly but found their way back to each other? please?
but it's okay, if we can't. cause like i said, ive moved on.
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3hks · 26 days
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How to Write REALISTIC and SMOOTH Dialogue
In a story, dialogue is quite important, it helps the readers paint a picture of what's happening and the characters themselves. However, it can be difficult to avoid the unnaturalness and choppiness that comes with a lack of experience. But luckily, I have put together A LOT of advice on how you can get over that rockiness and improve!
*** KEEPING YOUR DIALOGUE REALISTIC, AND PACING ***
>> Keep your characters in character:
Dialogue is a remarkably quick way for readers to determine your character's personality. Thus, you want their speech patterns to remain fairly consistent so the audience won't get confused. If your character is more serious, then they will use less slang and perhaps a more impressive vocabulary. If your character is more relaxed, they will use more slang and compress the words. (such as "dunno," "kay," "y'know," etc.)
Basically, you want their tone to match their traits so the way that they talk is more realistic and personlized to themselves. If the way all your characters speak is the same, there's something wrong. A strong tip is to put yourself in your character's shoes and imagine how they would respond!
>> Take the situation into consideration:
This is another part of keeping your characters in, well, character. Different emotional situations will have a different effect on separate people, so make sure that you have an idea of how your character will act during stressful, irritating, and sad times.
If your character is normally cold, they will struggle if it comes to comforting other people because they have less experience in that field.
>> Don't take too long with their words:
Unlike when narrating something, most people talk just to get the idea across. They will be more specific and quicker with what they say. (This excludes any character who likes to talk a lot.) Unless it's on purpose, they won't dance around the topic. Think of when you casually chat with your friends; you're pretty unlikely to use certain words and/or phrases that might be common to use while narrating.
If you want to explain something complicated, instead of writing out a paragraph of just one person talking, use a question-and-answer prompt! This is where another character continuously asks related questions that get answered by another person, so you can indirectly reveal your explanation.
*** HOW TO WRITE A SMOOTHER CONVERSATION AND DIALOGUE TAGS***
>> Having a variety of dialogue tags:
This is a pretty basic thing to look out for if you're new to writing conversations. Using words like "said," every other sentence can easily make it feel choppy and robotic. Instead, use words like "murmured," "smirked," etc. to paint some emotion into their words. Additionally, vary the location of the dialogue tags! They don't all have to go after the statement, you can include something in the beginning or even the middle, too!
Examples:
Beginning - She tilted her head, "What are you talking about?"
Middle - "Oh," he blinked, "I actually never thought about that."
End - "Wait up!" She exclaimed loudly, waving her hands around.
>> Using no dialogue tags to create a smooth conversation:
Having too many tags can also overwhelm your reader--remember, sentence variety is a crucial part of writing--so you can always drop them if they're unneeded. This applies when your characters (two is the suggested amount) are talking back and forth in a pattern straightforward enough for the reader to understand who's talking without it having to be labeled.
Dropping dialogue tags in these moments can create a smoother atmosphere during the conversation because the reader only has to focus on the talking present.
*** USING SLANG, STUTTERS, FILLER WORDS, AND PAUSES ***
Human speech is often not perfect; when talking, we often make mistakes such as filler words, grammatically incorrect phrases, etc. Hence, for more natural-sounding dialogue, it's important to incorporate some of these.
>> Pauses and stutters:
When reading dialogue, we read it at a steady pace unless it's written otherwise. However, that steady pace can soon get too robotic and too smooth. Luckily, there are several ways to change this! You can use dialogue tags, (ex: she quickly spoke) commas, and ellipsis (...). These are often integrated when the character is hesitant, nervous, answering something, or when they need to admit something. The same idea applies to stutters--they're mainly used to demonstrate anxiousness, which can be found in varying situations.
>> Filler words and slang:
Filler words can really just be used where you see fit. They may be used in the situations I previously mentioned (because it shows someone stumbling over their words) but it's ultimately up to you!
Slang, just like everything else, should not be used too often, or it will seem forced and exaggerated. The point is to sound natural, and increasing amounts of repetitiveness can ruin it. It's also important to remember that in real life, our conversations move slower; when someone speaks, another person usually doesn't respond quite literally, right after. However, in writing, dialogue can actually often seem that way, which is why using tags and these imperfections of speech is pivotal for building a realistic conversation!
*** CONCLUSION ***
Lastly, a key point when writing dialogue is to ALWAYS read the conversations! Whether it be in your head or out loud, it can often help you catch anything that seems off! Additionally, like I mentioned at the very beginning, write dialogue from your character's perspective! Imagine yourself as them and how they/you would talk. Try to keep your dialogue tags, sentences, and word use varied to create a natural conversation!
If you were struggling before, I hope that this (extra) long guide was able to really offer you some insight and useful tips! If you read this far, thank you!
Happy writing~
3hks <3
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earthtooz · 3 months
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x : MY DILUC, MY EVERYTHING :*+゚
in which: you tell diluc that klee finds him 'too boring' to be your boyfriend. he can't help but feel like she's right.
warnings: 1.3k words, insecure diluc who needs a little reassurance, mostly dialogue, klee being cute but also a menace, so much fluff with a dash of angst.
a/n: i have not posted anything in so long, but i wanted this to be my first fic of 2024 because i love diluc <3 i hope you all enjoy this little fic!
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“What do you mean Mr Diluc is your boyfriend?” Klee asks, tilting her head to the side with an inquisitive look in her eyes as you bend down to her height.
“I mean that Mr Diluc is my boyfriend. My partner. We’ve been together for years now.” 
“You mean that Mr Diluc, right?” She raises a tiny hand in the direction where the red-haired in question stands. He’s immersed in conversation with Kaeya and Jean, but from one glance you can tell the estranged brothers are up to no good. Or rather, that Kaeya is having the time of his life provoking your partner.
“That’s the one. I think he’s the only one, Klee.”
Her pointer finger then comes up to her chin in contemplation, and her breath of contemplation materialises as a small cloud, condensating in the winter chill. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why is he your boyfriend?”
“Well, why wouldn’t he be?”
“No offence to Mr Diluc, but he’s so cold and boring!” She cries, clenching her fists to her chest, as if being ‘boring’ was a crime to humanity. “And he never smiles. He should smile more but I would find him scarier like that… so maybe he should stay the way he is: a total gloomy bum bum!”
You can’t help but laugh at her honest statement, muffling the noise with your hand. She blinks at you and wonders what she said that made you laugh, but you simply tell her that it’s nothing.
“Maybe, but I love that ‘gloomy bum bum’ just the way he is.”
“But… why? Y/n is so kind and knows how to smile! Mr Diluc is too sad and boring for you.”
Over the course of your relationship with the wine monopolist, you were met with resistance from various people who believed they wanted ‘the best’ for him. These were including, butand not limited to, businessmen, his admirers, and old aristocrats with wealth on the brink of collapsing. You never let their passive aggressiveness get to you, their comments burned to ashes by the way Diluc lights the way for you with his undying flames. 
Yet hearing a child, who has no real grip of the world beyond explosions and how not to blow up Monstadt, explain that Diluc shouldn’t be with you because he doesn’t know how to smile is… unbelievable. Her intentions are nothing but pure for her knowledge of the world has not yet been tainted by the nuance of human behaviour. As refreshing as it feels to have her support, any insults you hear about Diluc are unpleasant to hear. Though she may not hold any malice, perhaps her judge of character needs to be deepened.
“Sometimes, the coldest people are really the warmest,” you begin, gently wrapping her scarf around her neck. “Mr Diluc is one of those people.”
“Really?”
“Warmer than a fireplace, or a Pyro Crystalfly, or Jumpty Dumpty.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yes, but please don’t go blowing one up just to see how warm it can be. Jean already told you about the animals hibernating during winter, you shouldn’t go disturbing them.”
She tucks her hands behind her back, eyes downcast and ears flopped.
“Do you remember when Albedo took you to Dragonspine and when you melted a chunk of ice, crystalflies flew out of it?”
“They were so pretty and became super warm! I wish I caught one of them, but they flew away too quickly.”
“Mr Diluc is just like that ice with the fireflies. You just need to warm up to him and when you do, he can be one of the best people you’ll ever meet.”
“Will he fly away too?”
“You could keep an eye on him and find out.”
She nods, determination alighting in her eyes with the new task you assign her. Although you’re pretty positive she won’t ever succeed with it, you’re just happy you’ve found a way to show Klee that your lover isn’t as terrible as she deems. A flash of familiar red hair appears in your periphery.
“Dear?” He calls, capturing your attention. “Shall we head into the tavern now? It’s too cold to stay out here.”
Sparing one last glance at Klee who regards your partner with fire in her eyes, you can’t help but smile at the pure innocence in her heart. With a ruffle of her hair as goodbye, you take Diluc’s hand and stand, waving goodbye to the rest of the group before heading in the direction of Angel’s Share. Shuddering, you sink deeper into the wool of your coat and the warmth of his Pyro Vision, a perfect combat to the winter frost that’s covered Monstadt.
“You know,” you begin when both of you have arrived at the empty tavern and the red-haired has a fire started in the corner. He urges you to continue with a soft ‘hum’. “The conversation I had with Klee just won’t leave my head.”
“Oh? What’d she say?”
Sitting down on a cold stool, you keep your gaze on him as he walks behind the counter. It seems like he’s preparing drinks and snacks for you: some cheese, crackers, and grapes.
“First of all, she only found out today that I was dating you.”
“Oh? Jean or Albedo haven’t told her before?”
“I guess neither of us appear that much in conversation together. But she refused to believe it at first, being like ‘you mean that Mr Diluc?’, ‘why is he your boyfriend?’,” you laugh. “She thought that you were too gloomy to be with me and that I should be with someone who knows how to smile.”
His cheese knife halts, the sound of metal meeting wood slicing through the atmosphere. However, you’re too engrossed in retelling the story to notice the way he freezes.
“How silly. Kids really have the wildest presumptions and thoughts to match.”
Diluc continues preparing the food, stiff hands moving along the counter. You don’t say more than that, saving further conversation for when he’s done. As he sets the arrangement of crackers, cheese, and grapes down, it’s accompanied by a heavy sigh.
“What if… she’s right?” Asks the winery owner, voice no louder than a whisper.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I did, but I don’t understand why you think that way too.”
“Well, smiling isn’t my strong suit anymore and I’ve been told by the knights that the children find my expression too scary.”
“You know anyone can smile, right?” You ask jovially. “It’s not like a statistical impossibility-“
“It’s not just that,” he interjects sharply. Your smile fades, acknowledging Diluc’s sombre expression that clarified he wasn’t joking around like you thought. However, seeing the change in your attitude sobered him and that sharp glance fades, turning into something remorseful and softer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that.”
“No no, it’s my fault for not taking you seriously. Please, go on.”
“I’m quite boring, you know.” He fiddles with the ends of his leather gloves. “Did you never think that maybe what Klee said could be correct?”
“Never because she’s not correct. Honestly, Diluc, after all these years of being together and hearing what some people have to say about us, I never thought you’d think like this.” 
He casts his gaze downwards. “Because those people don’t know me like you do.” 
Two hands come up to cup his cheeks, gently directing him to look up at you and meet your kind expression. All inhibitions he had melt away at the sight of your smile.
“I can only hope they never do,” you reply simply, confidence lacing your words. 
Being with him is not easy. He is a busy man, one who manages the entirety of Monstadt’s wine business during the day and takes to the shadows to look after your beloved city at night. Yet, despite working with the sun and moon, he still gives all of him to you. For as long as Diluc will allow it, you hope to be the only person he’ll pick baskets of grapes with, play slow games of chess with, and freely lay out his convictions to. 
You’ll be damned to give up your spot beside him without a fight.
Diluc doesn’t believe he deserves the same. “You’re too patient with me. I’ve let you down too much for you to be this forgiving,” he grabs your wrists and gently knocks his forehead against yours. “I can’t give you everything you want.”
“You’re my Diluc, you already are everything.”
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© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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irndad · 12 days
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oh, but you're good to me -s.r.
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a/n: i continue to not know the word count- but here's pining!spencer x sunshine!reader!! very hozier coded <3
The team has gone out for drinks after a stressful week, and this is a moment where Spencer finds that his willpower does not so easily overpower his desire. They’d chosen a kind of kitsch place, the kind where there’s couches where waitresses could bring you your drink under dimmed lights and music with cozy acoustic music played. Emily and Morgan were comparing conquests at their trip to the club the week prior, Penelope chiming in with warm support on either end. On the opposite table, Hotch and Rossi were discussing criminology in serious, even tones. 
And Spencer, well. He was well-occupied. 
His best friend is on the team, and he does not say that lightly. She’s earned her place in his heart, as hopelessly romantic as that makes him sound. But she did. He remembers the day he met her, warm tone seeped in patience and understanding. 
He remembers the sight of her like its engraved crystal, carved into the basis of his mind. Her delicate features distinct in their warm kindness. She’d offered her hand, shook it and giggled a sweet sound when he’d said it’d be safer to kiss. He’d blushed enough that his lack of flirtation in his intent was clear. 
On the jet, that first case, she’d listened to him talk about Russian literature and other obscure topics he couldn’t remember now, because now, all he can recall is the color of her doe eyes meeting him in intention. 
He’s pretty sure he’s in love with her. 
Which, right now, feels a bit like a drug- both painful and exhilarating. She’s a cuddly drunk (only with him, it seems) and he’s got a lanky arm tugged over her shoulder. It’s lovely in a way words vex him, the weight of her against him. 
“You look nice today, Spence,” she muses, looking up at him. His heart is going to stop.
“You do too,” he breathes out. This is nice. She’s touchy, and he likes when she touches him. It’s a pleasure, like sipping expensive wine or decadent chocolate, sweet and a little bit sad, because you know you can’t have it forever. 
She plays with his scarf, and he is hopelessly endeared by the sight of the fabric in between her delicate fingers. 
“This color is nice,” she muses, and god,  he wants to kiss her. This a thought Spencer has often, oftentimes at inopportune times. On the jet, in the office, at her house, in the car- always, really. 
Except now, no one’s looking at them. If loving her was enough to make her love him back, then he could. 
But it isn’t. 
He chokes back the emotion rich in his throat. He brushes her hair out of her face, a tender motion that betrays his intentions with her. 
“You always look lovely,” Spencer says earnestly. I love looking at you, he thinks.
She smiles back earnestly and warmly. 
“I didn’t think you noticed things like that.”
“I always do, when it’s you.”
He doesn’t know why this is what he’s allowed to have. She’s so close to him, pinned up against him and he can feel the curve of her waist against his side. He doesn’t get it, why he’s not her boyfriend but he still gets moments like these, where she’s pinned to him like velcro. He’s addicted to them, really- craves the moments where she falls asleep on his lap on the jet, where they’ll be walking together somewhere and she’ll lace their fingers and tug him along when she’s excited and the destination in sight.
Maybe this is just how she touches her best friends- he tries not to question it, because he doesn’t want to loosest. 
But tonight, under the low-light of the bar, shadows of her lashes thrown across the slope of her cheek- he wants to ask her.
“Are you like this with everyone?” He muses. He immediately regrets it, sees her face harden and feels the shift away from him, and the space leaves a gap of cold air. There’s a swoop f nerves in his stomach.
“I don’t know, I think I just thought- you know, we’re like this. We’re touchy, you and me.”
He’s not touchy. Everyone knows this, but she’s the exception to a rule that has held true his entire life. But he loves this, loves the feeling of this.
“I like this,” he says, intentional eye contact trained on her shaking irises. He reaches out and laces their fingers in an act of bravery that rivals some of his most intense moments, “I’m wanting inf you want more of it. Because I do.”
“You do?”
She’s back close to him, now, and he’s so immensely grateful for it. She smells like lilies and her, and this might be the only time he’s brave enough to do something like this. 
It turns out he doesn’t have to, because before he can answer, she kisses him. It happens fast, and his response is all instinct- pulling her into him closer, his hands around her waist and her soft sigh into his mouth that threatens to kill him. It’s better than his fantasies at night could have made him expect. 
“Hi,” she says, barely above a whisper when she pulls away. She looks a little adorably off-guard, in a way he’d like to create- like to instigate. 
“Hi back,” he says, a beaming grin threatening to spread over his face. He tries to memorize the feeling of this, the weight of her in his arms in case this is not something he can keep- he wants to remember it, what it felt like for her to kiss him, to be wanted by her. 
“Do you want to go out sometime?”
“Like out of here? It’s kind of cold outside-“
“On a date, Spencer.”
Instead of a response, Spencer kisses her again. It is absolutely the right choice.
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