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dxxdhood · 2 days
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show off
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pairing: dick grayson x gn!reader
summary: after dick tries his hardest to get your attention, you finally give it to him.
tags: smut (18+), sub!dick grayson, dom!reader, teasing, dirty talk, praise kink, fingering (m receiving), oral (m receiving), light bondage, hair pulling, body worship
wc: 2.2k
a/n: hey! sorry for disappearing! i don't have an ao3-author-almost-dying-excuse but i hope this fic makes up for it!
What made Dick Grayson so hot was that he knew he was hot. He was always walking around with an annoying amount of confidence that he managed to pull off anyway. Blame it on him being the poster child for a Good Samaritan or his relentless integrity– the guy was impossible to hate no matter how big his head got.
Luckily, you’ve lucked out as his official, number one supporter. Ever since becoming partners, you’ve gotten to spend more little moments together, even when life would ordinarily tear you apart. And of course it’s great! Dick’s arms around you as you try to catch up on some reading in the morning, forehead kisses even as you’re running out the door late for work– everything’s been adorable. But lately, you can’t shake the feeling that something’s off. 
Dick’s been stressed out, you can tell it in the set of his shoulders even if he’s been trying to hide it. The thing was, you’ve been super busy lately. Work and personal stuff kept piling up, and although you’re ashamed of it, you’ve ended up prioritizing other things instead of your relationship.
You told Dick that you were swamped with work and – as usual – he was nothing but understanding. But if dating Dick has taught you anything, it’s that he believes that being understanding means completely ignoring all his own wants. It’s very endearing, but you also feel like a giant asshole, especially as things finally start clearing up and he still keeps his distance.
Or well, at least it seems like he’s trying to keep his distance. That doesn’t explain him showing off for you.
Because that’s what he’s been doing! It started off when you came back from work one night to Dick, on his day off from patrols, cooking you an entire candlelit dinner. He was wearing a black button up with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His hair was also loose, messy like he’d just been on a run. Oh, and he must not have shaved that morning, because he has the slightest amount of stubble– he was trying to kill you was what he was doing. 
Okay, he may have had plausible deniability during that night’s dinner, but that time you walked in on him working out was not subtle. As soon as you walked into the living room he switched to doing squats, the thin material of his gym shorts straining against his muscled thighs. After a couple seconds of you watching in awe, he had the nerve to turn around and smile at you all innocently, asking you how your day went. 
And then there was what happened yesterday. Once again you walk into your living room (clearly a trigger for these events) and you’re met with Dick on the couch, shirtless, wearing only gray sweatpants as he snores softly. His head was leaning against his shoulder at an uncomfortable angle, so you grab a small pillow and maneuver it under his neck to stop him from getting sore. Even asleep, you feel how strong he is as your hands trace the outline of his neck and shoulder muscles. You can spot so many moles littering his arms and chest. It’s a shame they’re usually covered.
It’s not like Dick doesn’t usually lounge around the house shirtless, but wearing nothing – and you’re sure it’s really nothing – but gray sweatpants all stretched out on the couch? At this point he’s not asking for you to do something, he’s begging for it.
So, today you text him to “get ready for a surprise tonight!” while he’s out on patrol. He responds back something like “????😍🥳😘!!!!!” while you start getting ready. 
“Hey, I’m home!” he calls as he walks through your front door. “So what’s this big surprise I’ve been hearing about?”
“Welcome back,” you say, rushing from your bedroom to give him a kiss. He’s ready to break it off almost instantly, but you hold on for longer, placing your hands on his shoulders. Dick muffles a sound of surprise but he doesn’t pull away. After a second of not knowing what to do with his hands, he rests them around your waist and melts into the kiss.
You eventually pull back and Dick starts talking again, “Well, that was a nice surprise! Guess I’ll just–”
“Shut up!” You shout through a giggle. “Just wait a second, it’s in here.”
You grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom, which you’ve lit with scented candles. Also – and this may have been going a little far – you bought roses to adorn your bedside table (and to sprinkle petals on your bed, of course). On top of the freshly washed sheets, through the dim lighting, Dick spots some suspiciously red rope. 
“Alright, I mean it this time, this is a nice surprise,” he says as he tries to fight against a smile. “But are you sure you’re okay to do this tonight? I don’t wanna worry you, and if you don’t have the time for–”
You grab both of his hands and pull him down so you’re both sitting on the side of the bed.
“Dick… It’s not my fault I’ve been busy lately, and I know that,” you take a deep breath. “But I’m so sorry I haven’t been spending enough time with you. I should’ve tried harder, you know, I should’ve done what you always do– find a way to pull through it.”
He raises one of his hands from where yours were covering his and is about to protest before you stop him, “Please don’t defend me, just let me say I’m an asshole for once.”
He exhales and relaxes back, placing his hands in yours again.
“So, let me make it up to you?” you ask, almost timidly in comparison to how solid the rest of your apology went.
As a response, Dick leans forward and hugs you so tight you think you may have crushed ribs (and you know Dick definitely has the strength to do it). 
“Of course I’m not going to say no to that,” he chuckles, breaking the hug so he can stand up and start uncoiling the rope.
“Hold on,” you say as you come up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder. He turns his head toward you, confusion clear on his face. “I was thinking that tonight I’d do the tying.”
And you’re infinitely grateful that Dick turned around, because now you can see his cute raised eyebrows and the sweet way he tries to look towards the floor. He lets out a small cough and politely hands you the rope.
“Sounds- sounds good.”
“Great!” you nestle a hand in his tousled hair and scratch at the back of his scalp. “Go take a shower, alright? When you’re back, I’ll be here and we’ll get started, okay?”
He nods, and you give a gentle tug of his hair, “Speak, baby.”
“Right, yeah! Good! It sounds really good,” He manages, walking to the bathroom quickly and wasting no time to get the shower started.
You giggle as you watch him exit. Dick was usually so suave and self-assured, it always threw you to see how nervous he got when he was under your thumb. 
Preparing the last few things you needed, you lay on the bed, resting your head on your bent arm to watch Dick as he steps out of the bathroom. He didn’t even bother bringing a towel out with him, and you can see the drops of water run down his chest and abs before reaching his cock. 
You give him less of a smirk and more of a fond smile as you walk up to him, reaching to cup the back of his neck and bring his face close to yours.
“Even now, when I already told you you’re going to get what you want, you’re still showing off for me.”
“What?” He shakes his head, eyes gleaming.
“Lay down for me, okay? You say, and even though he wants to hear you finish, he follows immediately.
Rope in hand, you crawl on the bed so you’re straddling him. The sight of him, all lean muscles and thick thighs, laid out for you makes your face heat up. You take a deep breath as you gesture for him to move his hands up, and you tie him to the headboard.
“You’ve been craving my attention so badly, haven’t you? Just wanted me to drop what I was doing and show you how much I love you?”
“What, no, I–”
You move your hands from his tied up wrists to grip his jaw so he faces you, “Don’t keep anything from me now. Just tell me the truth, I want to hear it.”
After fighting past a blush, Dick lets out a shuddering breath, “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“I– I wanted you to notice me.”
“How couldn’t I, baby?” You say as you move down his body, nipping at his neck and the strong muscles of his shoulders. “You always look so sexy, you always want me to look.”
You lick at one of his nipples and you can feel his body twitch.
“You know you’re so handsome, right? You’re so hot, sometimes I think about you at work and get so distracted I can’t get anything done.”
He lets out a sigh as you scratch your nails down his side, leaving lines of red before you grip at his raised biceps.
“You’re so kind, too,” You whisper before kissing him deeply, biting at his bottom lip. Your other hand leaves to get the lube and begins spreading some around his hole. Dick’s breathing grows more and more uneven, but you kiss along his jaw and let him relax before you slip your finger in.
He squirms a bit at first, and you run your other hand through his hair to comfort him as you prep him using your finger. 
“You’re always so good, even when you don’t have to be– even when you have no reason to be. You see someone hurt, alone, and you help them– like it’s the most obvious thing to do.” You add another finger and Dick bites his lip at the stretch, trying not to breathe too heavily.
He starts gasping at every little thrust, sweat glistening at his brow and you angle your hand to reach that spot every time. Dick lets out a long groan, dipping his head to his collarbone before you pull him back up to look you in the eyes..
“You’re incredible, Dick. Such a gorgeous person inside and out.”
“Babe!” he cries, hiding his face in the crook between his neck and shoulder, and you gently cup his face to coax him out of it.
“It’s true, sweetheart, and you don’t get to hear it enough. You’re so good, you’re my good boy.”
He moans at that, higher than usual and you add another finger while he’s distracted. His voice breaks in the middle of the sound, and you can feel his chest working double time to try and keep up with your thrusts.
“Shit– shit, holy shit!” He cries, and you card your hand through his hair one last time before you run it down the side of his neck and across his chest. You never stop your hand movements as you kiss down the column of his neck and his pecs, following each spot your hand touches with your mouth.
You lick down his abs and Dick whines, trying to hide his face again while also keeping one eye focused on you, not wanting to miss a second of what you’re doing to him. The hand tracing down his body reaches his hard cock, and you run a finger across the length of it, rubbing in the bead of precum.
You take a second to make sure you’re keeping your thrusts consistent with your fingers before you take his entire length in your mouth. Dick rocks his entire body back and forth, trying to stay calm for you, and you breathe through your nose for a moment, letting him rest on your tongue as you get ready to move.
You slide on his cock at the same time your fingers hit his prostate, trying your best to line up the two so his tip hits the back of your throat when your fingers thrust against him. Clearly, it’s working, because Dick moves constantly, blinking back tears or trying in vain to hold back sounds as you work him even quicker.
His breathing becomes labored, so you move a hand to work his cock as you slide up his body, kissing him and sliding your tongue in his mouth. As soon as he tastes himself on you, you can feel the vibrations of a moan. His cum coats your hand as you work him through his orgasm.
Once you break your mouth away from his, his voice comes out all airy, “Oh my God, Fuck! Where were you hiding all of that?”
“The mouth?” You choke out, talking about how you just sucked him off, “Or the… mouth?” You mean the dirty talk.
“The–” He shakes his head, having trouble with the motion while still being tied up. “Yeah!”
The two of you giggle as you untie him, and you both cuddle for a while before hopping in the bath. 
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alj0saray · 1 day
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Leona w/ you being easily horny
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ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: SMUT, 18+ (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DON’T INTERACT), Bad English, AFAB Reader (only body parts), P in V Sex, Dom Character, Orgasm Control, Impact Play?, Riding, Soft Sex?, Public Sex, Exhibition, Horny Reader, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ My blog contains dark content, be careful when interacting/following! Please if you like my work don't forget to reblog/interact with me♡ Minors, ageless, blank blogs, and silent readers will get blocked if interact with me.
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⤠ NSFW HCs (Leona, Trey) ⤟ TWST Masterlist ⤠ Jealousy NSFW HCs (Leona) ⤟
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anon requested: Hello hello! Can I please request a smut drabble with Leona and a afab reader, who's gets rlly turned on by simply any physical contact with him and Leona just goes and does it with reader wherever or whenever they get turned on(yes exhibition:>) thank u in advance wither u ignore this or accept this request😀
I'm so sorry that this is so short, but I'm having serious problems with writing smut lmaoo i don't even know why or what is wrong, I'm not too sure.. Anyway, i hope you will like this!! 
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It isn't really your fault. You just can’t help yourself you know? Every little touch turns you on, especially by Leona. Oh the way Leona's hands go to your hips and make your body shiver in pleasure, sending it straight to your cunt. 
So of course he knew what was going on when he touched you, hand on your waist gently caressing it with a smirk appearing on his face. He knew what was going to happen, so he did it on purpose. If you were always the horny one so was Leona, always doing little things to make desperate as you are now. 
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“You are worse than any lioness you know that?” he laughs, pushing his cock deep inside of you in a fluid motion thanks to just how insanely wet you are, only by merely touching you before. 
“It just... It just feels so good...” you moan out in pure pleasure, enjoying how his dick feels deep inside of you even if it's a thousand times, but you don’t care. It feels so good. 
Neither of you cared that you were just in the botanical garden, just “trying” to have an innocent nap like you often do. You do it so often in the wide open that the idea of being caught just sends a thrill down your spine and right into your core, tightening around his cock and making him hiss. 
“Sevens you are so horny...” he sighs, his hands on your hips, starting to move you so you can ride him, with a deep and fast pace making your head spin. “You can’t really help yourself can you?” 
“Shut, m-mmh... Shut up!” you moan out in pleasure, moving your hips to follow his lead. “You are, a-aah... the same!” 
“Yeah you are right...” his hands go to your ass, groping and slapping it with a huge smirk on your face “I just can’t help it when you are this horny just for me baby, you drive me insane...” 
Something in you just snapped when you hear him say that, and you ride him even faster than before, his cock hitting all the right places and making you see starts. Sevens you are so close, just a little push, just a little thrust, and that sweet little knot inside your stomach breaks... 
“Oh already baby?” he mockingly says, stopping you by the hands on your ass. You whimper in protest and try to move your hips to have his cock deep inside of you again, but Leona's grip is far too strong for you. “I don’t think so... You gotta wait a bit more baby” 
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This work belongs to @/alj0saray, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite or share on tiktok without my permission. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged♡
↳˗ˏˋTaglistˊˎ˗↴ @heatofmyexoheart, @mega-slug-i-mean-mega-slut. want to be added to my taglist? Please check here! Feel free to send some feedback about it🤍
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darlindeer · 12 hours
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A Good Place III
tags:fem!reader, takes place post-canon, reader is/was chronically online, reader is actually a bad person, cursing, Lucifer lowkey is having a mid-life crisis (again), Lucifer has very strong feelings about sinners, I am afraid that reader is a girlblogger, reader has daddy issues, Vaping (don't do it, is not worth it). words: 2.7k a/n: HI :D sooooo I really like this chapter, and I hope that you do too :D its a short one buuuut yeah :D ALSO I am starting a taglist soooo if you wanna be tagged do let me know ^^
part i, part ii, part iii
Do all therapists go to heaven? 
Well surely not if they are like creeps or like… malpractice? Yeah… that sounds right? 
Either way, you were sure that listening to Lucifer talk about himself and his life is definitely winning you some good person points or whatever it is they measure “goodness” by. Sure, you were doing it out of the kindness of your heart as Charlie likes to put it as but… its gotta be helping with redemption right?
“And.. uh.. Oh” He trailed off, his eyes falling on you, seeing how your half lidded eyes and sleepy look in your face “you should probably get to bed, sorry, I didn’t mean to bored you” 
“No, no… is just… your voice is soothing I guess” You half lied sitting up straight 
“Oh…” He blushed and looked away “so… uh… how are you doing?” He asked awkwardly 
“Huh?” 
“Well, after I ran out of thing to ask you I just sorta started talking about myself and you just sit there and listen” He was looking away still. He never really looked at you for longer than a couple of seconds, at least when he had your attention, sometimes during the day you’d feel his eyes burning into the side or back of your head until you turned around and he would quickly look away. But like with most things you would simply ignore it, at least you knew that he wasn’t staring because he wanted you to drop dead, like he did with Alastor. 
“Oh, uh… well… I guess I’m fine?” You shrugged “I don’t know, I… I like being around here, but it just feels like I’m stuck… I guess?” You confessed quietly as you brought your knees up to your chest, as if you were protecting yourself from the little vulnerability you let out “like I don’t fit” You mumbled even quieter than before. 
You weren’t lying to him, not like when Charlie asks and you tell her you are great because you don’t want her to worry. You felt alone still, almost two months in the hotel and you still felt out of place. 
Lucifer sucked in air through his teeth, letting out an awkward hissing sound. He really wasn’t expecting that to be your answer, you always seemed so confident and smiley throughout the day, he figured your quiet demeanor during your talks was just because you were tired not because you were sad. He was wrecking his brain to find something to say but he looked over at you when he heard you let out a giggle 
“Y’know I’m terrible at comforting people too” You said with a small smile “I think most of the time I make that exact sound, one time I just said “bummer” when a friend told me her mom died” You giggled again, before burying your head into your knees. 
“That’s horrible” He gasped looking at you, seeing how your hands gripped the sides of your legs slightly tighter and your tail, wrapped around and laid over your feet. “Sorry…” 
“I just don’t know how to… feelings properly” You groan, your voice slightly muffled 
“Hey, I’ll drink to that” He said with a small chuckle, slumping back on the couch, now staring at the wall, you didn’t say anything back. The silences between you didn’t feel awkward anymore, nor empty to Lucifer, they just were. Part of whatever this is that you are doing.
“Don’t tell Charlie…” You mumbled looking up and turning your head to him 
“Huh? Tell her what?” 
“That I said that I feel like I don’t fit…” you sighed and closed your eyes “please… I know that I'm asking you to lie to your daughter but-” 
“I won’t” He interrupted you, you opened your eyes, and for once he didn’t look away as soon as you did, but it felt weird, he was looking at you with understanding and something else… it felt weird, so this time you looked away 
“Thanks” You sighed, staring at the wall, the room was illuminated by the tv, it was on but on mute, set on some random channel, it casted a blue-ish light that would ever so often change depending on the scene of the show that was on, you found it a little odd how the entire room changed because of the light, it made the overwhelming amounts of red seem bearable, but who cares, you certainly don’t you are just looking for something to distract you from the weight that lucifer’s look was starting to weigh on you. To think that a few minutes ago you were wondering why he never looked at you for longer than 5 seconds, now you just want him to look away.
And for the first time, the silence seemed unbearable to you, you never minded before, hell! You could even say that you liked it, a break, a moment to breathe, to settle before moving onto whatever next topic Lucifer wanted to talk about. Now it just felt like you were drowning, soon you’ll be gasping for air and reaching for whatever you could get a hold of to escape the crushing weight of it. 
You let go of your legs, stretching them out and took a deep breath. 
“I think I am going to go to bed” You said standing up from the sofa, “goodnight” You flashed him a small smile before walking away, giving him a small wave 
“Night…” he mumbled waving back 
・༓☾  ☽༓・ 
Lucifer knew he hadn’t really made a “personal” connection with you, you were… friends… of sorts. You’d talk and listen to him, and he did the same, but there was something different about it, like a weird shame… that was part of the reason he had asked you to keep your conversations a secret, but he wasn’t quite sure why he felt this weird encapsulation shame whenever he was around you. Even though you two would only speak during nighttime, whenever he had the time to “spare you” a glance during the day, he couldn’t help but stare until you turned to look at him, granted you always looked slightly annoyed when you turned which only made him turn his gaze away. That only led him to believe that you felt this same weird feeling he had about this “relationship”. 
Sure, during your talks you were nice, you smiled and looked at him when he spoke, you gave him undivided attention, and he knew that you did too because there had been a few times you recalled things he had said, little throw away things that he would not have remembered, but you did, you’d tilt your head to the side, your ears turning outwards a little, your eyebrows knitting together in slight confusion before you asked about the small inconsistency on the story he was telling you, it wasn’t like he was lying, he wouldn’t lie, he would just misspeak, but you noticed. 
And that attention to detail wasn’t something exclusive to him, he noticed how you would randomly recall in the same way about the other residents, same expression, same tilt of your head as you asked them about the smallest of details or inconsistencies in their stories, Alastor specifically seemed to detest this about you. 
Maybe it was the hypocrisy he was performing, so adamantly disliking sinners and actively avoiding them publicly, even slightly resisting his darling daughter’s request for him to try, only for him to seek you out and practically beg you to talk to him. There was definitely… ways… for him to learn about the things you told him about, but maybe it was because you were a sinner that he wanted to hear it from you, someone that had actually experienced it, not just read it off a book or recall old old memories. 
Any way, you were a plague, there was no other way he could describe it. You had infested his mind, everything made him think of you. And it didn’t help that he literally would see you everywhere since he had been staying at the hotel to help Charlie contact heaven again. He could hide away in his studio/room for most of the day, but if he wanted to eat, or have some down time, chances were that he would see you, even if it was only a glimpse of you, your image would be plastered all over his mind. He could make a chart of every outfit you had worn this week. 
“Dad…Dad?” Charlie waved her hand in front of Lucifer’s face until he reacted and looked her way again since it seemed he was staring at the floor before “did you listen to anything I said?...” 
“Uh no, yeah totally” He said confidently looking up at his daughter with an awkward smile “but you could repeat it… just to confirm I got all of it”
“Right… so both Angel and Y/N are out today and I know we should focus on getting sinners into heaven but I think we should brainstorm some advertising! To get more sinners in here!...” Charlie continued to ramble on about one of her ideas, going full on the theatrics. 
“So where oh… where did Y/N go?” He asked after Charlie finished, looking at his nails as if to seem uninterested in the question he asked. 
“Uh, she said she had something to do, didn’t give much information, kinda just said be back later” Charlie said hand on her face as she thought back to this morning “and Angel had to work so, it’s a day off for them today at the hotel at least” 
“Right right, Andy is at work and Y/N is just out?” He hummed, still trying to look uninterested 
“Yes… ANGEL is at work and Y/N is somewhere, I think she said something about a sale, uh a five finger discount, so like 50% off probably!” Charlie said in a hopeful tone and then Lucifer tried to explain that you were probably shoplifting without crushing all her hopes. 
・༓☾  ☽༓・ 
You waltzed into the hotel near 3am, several bags hanging in your arms, holding your phone in one hand as the other held up a pink vape up to your lips, the little light at the bottom and the unbelievably bright screen of your phone, lighting up the mostly dark room. 
The only thing that could be heard was the clacking of your boots as you walk. You exhaled the smoke as you started walking up the stairs, using the light of your phone as a guide.
When you finally got to your room you found no other than lucifer, kinda just pacing in front of your door 
“Oh… hey” you said walking to the door and opening, he was wearing pajamas, like an actual two set pajamas, light blue with little duckies all over “you… uh been waiting long?” 
“You were out all day, uh andy got here before you” he said looking as you walked in, standing at your doorway 
“And you were worried?” you asked looking at him “are you just gonna stand there?... who's andy?”
“Y’know tall, spider fella” He raised his hand as far up as he could
“Oh, Angel” you said and nodded, taking out the several boxes from the bags “so, you were worried?” You asked in a teasing tone, your tail wagging slowly and low 
“Well you haven’t been in hell for long and those sinners out there… they are…” he followed with a long strained groan “t-they are violent and… and depraved-” 
“I just went shopping” You interrupted and shrugged “so like, I’ve been posting like a bunch of stuff on sinstagram and tiktok and like I’ve gotten a BUNCH of followers and like a couple stores were like, “come take a bunch of our stuff for free and just post a video or post a picture at the store” and well I love free stuff so I went and then after they were like “hey! Lets go to the club!” and my mom always told me to never deny a free drink or free anything so I went!” You explained taking out a pair of long boots “can you like, come in, its bugging me that you are at the door, I have… a poof you can sink into” 
“Oh yea yea, suuuuure, just come into your room, okay” He said quietly actually stepping in 
“Close the door behind you please” You pointed at it and he closed it, before just standing there awkwardly making you giggle a little “you can relax sire, is not like I have my panties on the floor” you giggled before looking around just to make sure “yeah no panties on the floor” 
“Haha sire, ha!” He chuckled to “himself”, he can’t really recall a moment where you had addressed him properly… or like at all… now that he is thinking about it you haven’t even said his name, not that he can remember. And it made his chest tight, he never has been fond of the tittle’s, tho he always wants to be addressed with respect. 
“I heard that” You said in a sing-songy tone “you can sit on the poof or my bed or… the floor, my rug is pretty soft” You pointed around “if you want to stay… you seem… kinda wiged out” 
“No is just… y'know your room, is a personal thing… and we… are like…. Not like that” He mumbled 
“Right… uh… right” You mumbled looking at the clothes in your bed. All of the sudden you felt as awkward as he did now, and when you feel awkward you feel vulnerable and that puts your defenses down, the delicately constructed walls you had built up on uneven ground, cracking at the first disturbance “y’know I… uh, I know it's you who normally asks the questions but…”
“Yeah?” 
You cleared your throat still not looking his way gripping the garment on your hands “I just… I don’t get it… why me?” 
“Why you what?” he questioned, head tilting to the side slightly 
“Why ask me? I just… everyone else in this hotel had far more interesting lives than I did and I just… why?” 
“Its because… well they have been dead for so long and you are the freshest” He shrugged, not really getting why you are asking it seemed like an obvious reason why he choose you 
“No. because… no, like.. I think I am also the youngest, I lived 24 years only, I, I… I barely experienced anything, and I’m also like… Like I barely did anything to get into hell, I mean, lie, steal, scam, I’m pretty sure that a visit to any catholic church would have saved me from all of this-” You continued your ramble, now moving around your room, 
You were sort of right, yes, a visit to any church would have definitely saved you, but you shouldn’t have gone to heaven, no, he would have never met you otherwise, and although he can’t fully admit it, he enjoys you, heaven doesn’t deserve you, they couldn’t appreciate you, with their stupid strict rules. You were right, you were barely a sinner, maybe that was why he didn’t mind you as much as the others 
“I mean all I was… was a hedonistic party girl that stole wallets and and!-” 
“Well, maybe that’s why” Lucifer shrugged “you are not like the rest of them, you aren’t violent or sick or depraved-”
 “maybe a little depraved” you whispered 
“And that’s why I like talking to you, you don’t have some sort of sick twisted version of earth in your mind, you didn’t see a pond with duck and think “that’s a perfect place to dump a body”, you saw calming place, you saw earth for what it was, I like that”
You stayed quiet, glancing at him, he was still standing by the door, and you were in the middle of the room, he was looking at you, with almost a sad look, like pity but different, he wasn't looking away or just past you. 
“You should go to bed” He gave you a closed eye smile before turning around and opening the door “Charlie has a big day planned for tomorrow so you should definitely get some rest, good night” 
“Good night” You said softly watching as he left, closing the door behind him
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙
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@boogiemansbitch
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Phantom Grin
Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam
Summary: Bruce Wayne visits his son's grave on the night of his resurrection. Will it change Jason's fate, or is it all simply inevitable?
Chapters: 3/?
Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain
Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character
Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd is Disabled, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Resurrected Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Get Along
Chapter Three: Somatic
Once Jason adjusted to being awake, Bruce went home, promising to return. Dick helped Jason into his day clothes and explained that Barbara would come and sit with him while he ate breakfast. Jason had since pulled his hair into a loose ponytail. "Stay put until Barbara gets here. She's the red—. Actually, here," Dick whispered as he pulled out his wallet and gave Jason a picture of Barbara. "See, this is her... And this was you. You were a little smaller then."
Jason held the picture in his hands as Dick turned the tv on. "I'll see you later on... I love you, okay?" Dick whispered. Jason took Dick's wrist, and Dick gave him a hug. "Jason... Do you want me to bring you something back?"
Jason chewed his lip. "Right. Sorry, um... Do you want me to bring you lunch?" Dick asked. Jason nodded and held up the picture of Barbara. "Yeah, she'll be here any minute to keep you company. Eat your breakfast."
Jason obeyed, and he waved as he watched Dick leave the room. He knew Dick would come back, but he hated being alone. He ignored the people talking on the tv. It didn't mean anything to him. He ate in silence, watching the door for signs of Barbara. He took a sip of his water, and it felt like he was waiting for ages. He'd almost forgotten that the tv was on when he heard a laugh. The laugh was familiar and pierced him down to his core. He pushed his breakfast tray off the table, and he curled up into a ball. He felt sharp pains in his head and all over his body. The pain came so suddenly that it made his head spin. When the pain didn't stop, he stumbled out of bed and threw up in the doorway of his bathroom. He blinked hard, and just as he opened his eyes, he remembered the blonde woman and the clown. He remembered his costume and the taste of blood. He couldn't catch his breath. It all hurt so much, and all he could do was fight for breath.
"Jason," Barbara called him, "Jason, it's Barbara." He turned around and pushed his palms against his forehead. His breathing grew more and more labored as the sound of the laugh played over and over again. "Jason, it's alright." Barbara turned the tv off. Jason dropped to his knees and pushed his face into her lap. She sighed and smoothed his hair down. "I'm sorry that I was late." Jason whimpered, but he didn't cry. "Jason, we won't let anybody hurt you." His breathing slowed until he lay fast asleep with his face in her lap.
A nurse came in, and Barbara explained the mess. She woke Jason gently after a few minutes of letting him lay his head on her lap. "Hey, Jason, get up. Let's go on a walk," Barbara requested. She gave his shoulder a nudge.
Jason sat up and looked into her eyes, and she flashed him a smile. "Let's go on a walk," Barbara whispered. Jason moved to his feet, and he tapped Barbara's chair, and then he tapped his chest. "Same person hurt me... Do you remember something?"
Jason shook his head. "Look at me. I won't ask you to talk about it if you do remember. I don't want to hear about it, actually," Barbara reassured him in her own way. He looked into her eyes, and he nodded slowly.
He followed Barbara outside, and she stopped and pulled at the fabric of Jason's sweater. "You look nice. Dick picked that out for you, didn't he?" she asked. Jason nodded. She led him around the outside of the hospital.
Jason's head ached from the stress of his earlier revelation. He pushed his palm into the side of his head, trying to massage away his worries. Barbara noticed it, but she didn't say anything. She took him out a little ways from the hospital, and Jason nudged her and pointed to a store. "Yeah, sure. You can get whatever you want," Barbara whispered.
They went inside, and they went from aisle to aisle until Jason pulled something off the shelf. A box of crackers. Barbara nodded. "Want some ginger ale too?" she asked. Jason nodded.
After purchasing their items at the store, Barbara took him back to the hospital and sat out front. Jason ate the crackers straight out of the box. "Mmmm." The sound escaped his closed lips as he ate. Barbara smiled and pushed up her glasses. Jason offered her some of the crackers.
"Thank you," Barbara replied as she took a few crackers from the box. "You're right. They are good... Jason?" She waited until he looked at her to continue. "Before you woke up, I used to come in and talk to you. Do you remember?" Jason nodded. He knew her voice very well, but he'd assumed up until that point that they were just dreams. Jason wanted to say something to her. He took a sip of ginger ale and wiped his mouth with his sleeve before looking back at her.
They sat outside in the cold Gotham air until Dick met them outside for lunch. Something in Jason burned, and he wanted to see Bruce. Jason had to talk to Bruce about the memory that resurfaced. He had to speak. Jason grabbed Dick by his jacket and made a noise.
He seemed panicked to Dick, but Barbara knew different. Dick opened his mouth, and Barbara touched his arm, shaking her head. "Let him try," Barbara whispered.
Jason didn't have any words, so he pointed to Dick's pocket and waited until Dick handed him his wallet. He opened it and pointed to a picture of Bruce. Dick nodded. "He'll be here later on. Bruce is on business," Dick explained. He took Jason and Barbara back inside. "What happened?" asked Dick.
Jason chewed his lip and frowned. "I'll explain later," Barbara replied. Jason wanted to explain how he felt. Jason was in so much pain earlier. He kicked off his shoes and crouched on his bed for a while before he could relax enough to sit down.
He stared at Dick and Barbara, and his eyes grew heavy. His head still ached, but he imagined he'd feel better once he woke up. Once he was finally asleep, Barbara explained everything, and Dick sighed. "Was he—? Do you think he understands?" Dick asked.
"I think he remembers what happened, but I don't think he understands any of it yet... He's a lot sweeter than I remember," Barbara whispered.
"That's because he thinks he's got no reason to be guarded... I kind of hope it stays that way for his sake," Dick mumbled.
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vettelsvee · 23 hours
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JUST LIKE YOU | Oscar Piastri Prologue
<- PREVIOUS PART | JUST LIKE YOU MASTERLIST | NEXT PART ->
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warnings: curse words, my very much created version of the vettel family (seb is married to diana vettel, his former race engineer), claire's parents being trash. christmas time! english not being my first language so sorry in advance for any mistake <3
taglist: just tell me in the comments if you wanna be tagged in the following parts!
a/n: would you like me to post Sebastian and Diana's fanfiction, History?
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2022 December 20th Switzerland
Claire
If there was one thing I was sure of, it was that there was no way in hell I should be here, on the other side of the world, getting off a plane after nearly 25 hours of flight and a layover, and just two days shy of turning twenty-one.
Or maybe there was.
I don't know.
My parents were not at all pleased that their only daughter preferred to go with a woman, a mother and married to my uncle's arch-rival for a decade now, to try to solve the little existential crisis I was having now that I had only about five months left of university.
My uncle's wife thought the same, but since I had never liked her, if my parents' opinion didn't matter to me at all, hers mattered even less.
Mark was the only one who encouraged me to go to Switzerland to see Sebastian and Diana Vettel. I'm sure that more than the conversation he had with the engineer, seeing me crying and with smudged makeup after the three and a half hours of video call with the woman, was what convinced him in the end. Obviously, we didn't achieve my goal either: figuring out what the hell to do with my life once I finished the damn studies.
Seb must be in the arrivals area. Emily wanted to go with him. I'm sorry I couldn't go, someone had to stay with Charlie and Matilda.
After seeing Diana's message and answering her not to worry about anything, I hurried out of Zurich Airport as quickly as I could in search of the father and daughter so as not to keep them waiting much longer, all while controlling my nerves about meeting them again.
We were in the midst of the Christmas season, and that was possibly the main reason why even the last nook of the airport was crowded. Also, why my fear for crowded spaces was growing.
I tried to stay calm, focusing on the noise my suitcase wheels and my sneakers made against the pavement. I breathed in and out several times until I felt the anxiety decreasing, while at the same time I had to force myself to keep moving among the crowd when I could barely pass through, ignoring the curious stares of those around me, and the occasional stupid comments about how today's youngsters didn't have manners.
Every time someone passed near me, I tried to recognize one of the two faces I was expecting to see, but it seemed that the mission of finding the Vettels was going to end up being much more difficult.
"Clare, Clare!"
A childish voice shouting my name made me stop in the middle of the road and turn in the direction of the sound, trying to figure out where it was coming from. In the distance, apart from the crowd, next to a pearly white Tesla and a girl with curly, completely blonde hair, I spotted a tall figure with long hair, a headband misplaced on the forehead, and sunglasses.
Sebastian had his hand raised in a greeting gesture, telling me to head towards them.
"Clare, it's great to see you again!"
The blonde wrapped me around his arms, and all I could do was laugh at the mere thought of telling my ten-year-old self that I would feel so comfortable with the person I once hated the most in the world.
"I would say the same, but I'm really tired and not in the mood to talk," I lied, although partly it was true. What I didn't want was to face that conversation, at least not yet. "I missed you. Well, I missed you all," I admitted.
"We've been apart for a month, Webber. Both you and I, and Di, and your uncle, thought it was going to be longer."
"Thank my mental breakdown for that then, and also that your wife is my personal Tony Stark," I laughed.
"Again with the Marvel references?" he raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "I won't judge: Di is my particular MJ, or my Gwen except she isn't dead."
I didn't have time to answer or to calm my laughter because Emily, with the typical energy of an eight-year-old, approached me bouncing around. The eldest of the Vettels reached a little below my chin, and I realized she was no longer the baby that Seb and Di used to take to the paddock every race weekend and with whom I used to play. I assumed it was the same for Charlotte and Matilda.
"Look what I drew for you!" the blonde said proudly as she handed me a paper.
I took it and admired it tenderly, carefully observing the childlike strokes that seemed to represent her parents and her sisters, with me as a special guest, as if I were one more in the family. Obviously, there couldn't be missing a Christmas tree to our right, filled with presents.
"It's very beautiful, Emily! Thank you very much," I responded as cheerfully as I could given my weariness. "Do you want us to show it to Mark when we get home and I talk to mom?"
"Yes!"
The German looked at us after putting my belongings in the car's trunk and intervened again:
"Emily has been counting the days for your arrival," he revealed, leaving me a little surprised.
"And Charlie and Matilda too. Matilda speaks baby language, and we don't understand her, but she claps every time when we talk about you," the girl added. "Since mom told us you were coming to spend a few days with us at Christmas, we asked Santa in our letters to bring you a present."
"Well, Di and I were also looking forward to your arrival," the retired driver blushed, scratching his head shyly.
I didn't know what to say, and Vettel seemed to realize it. He tried to say something else, but he ended up just telling us to get into the car because there were still about forty-five minutes to go to the family house.
I sat in the back of the car at Emily's request, and as I chatted with her and her father about how the family was doing after retiring from Formula 1, how they felt about the upcoming filming of History, the documentary where they would talk about their lives and uncover things that hadn't been made public before, and especially about the topic that worried me the most, where I could do my internships for the last semester of university, I let the whirl of thoughts invade me gradually.
After all, it wasn't every day that you set aside your own family to spend the most family-oriented time of the year with another family member less, going to the other side of the world.
Unfortunately, I didn't think that the people who created me, especially my father, would say that all this confusion I had been carrying for longer than I'd like to admit, and that I had kept silent for so long, was just an excuse to continue living off the cuff or because, simply, I didn't feel like continuing to study.
"Are you okay, Claire?"
The concern in Sebastian's voice brought me back to earth. I saw his eyes staring at me through the rearview mirror, quickly diverting his gaze from the road.
"Yes, of course. I'm just tired from the trip, as I told you before," I lied. The forced smile and tension in my voice showed the opposite.
"Are you going to be with us for all Christmas holidays?"
The girl's question, so simple and innocent, made all my pent-up doubts increase. I knew there was a remote possibility that I hadn't made the right decision, and after hearing that, I was becoming more and more sure.
Diana reassured me more times than I'd like that they didn't mind having me there as part of the family because I already was. My parents told me to do whatever I wanted, that I was old enough to make my own decisions, and that if it wasn't now, it was only a matter of time before I left for any little thing.
The disdain and arrogance with which they gave me their response made me pack my bags and call Mark to pick me up as soon as he could.
"Yes, Emily. Claire will be with us for all Christmas holidays" the German replied for me.
"Why aren't you going to spend the holidays with your mom and dad?"
I felt the knot that was already in my throat tightening more and more. I looked at Seb, begging him to help me while I tried to find an answer to the innocence of the girl without being rude or revealing to her that maybe I didn't have as cool parents as hers.
"Emily, sweetheart, that's not something you ask," Sebastian immediately reprimanded his daughter as calmly as he could, stroking her leg from his seat.
"Sorry..." the little one said with a melodic voice. I thanked him with my eyes, to which he responded with a simple tilt of his head.
"It's okay!" I hastened to say to avoid saddening her, wrapping my left arm around her. "Sometimes, parents and kids... argue, but in the end, they always make up and recognize their mistakes. Does that happen to you with mom and dad?"
"Yes!" she responded immediately. "I also argue sometimes with my sisters over toys or food, and mom scolds us, although dad almost never gets mad at us."
The conversation continued without any further altercation or mention of anything I didn't want to hear. I greatly appreciated it because time ended up passing faster than I thought, and in the blink of an eye, I could already see the dark wooden structure with white tones where I assumed the family lived.
When I spotted Diana, with Matilda in her arms, greeting us as if her life depended on it, and Charlie playing with Clifford, the family dog, I knew I had arrived at one of my second homes.
"Home sweet home, girls!"
Before the blonde even had a chance to turn off the engine and say anything else, his daughter and I were already running down to go towards his wife.
Emily, without even greeting her mother beyond a slight wave, went to play with her middle sister and with the Great Pyrenees. Diana shook her head, laughing at her daughter's attitude. She put little Matilda on the ground and, to my surprise, she started running through the grass trying to catch up with her sisters and the dog.
"Has she learned to walk already?" I pointed to the little one while the redhead gave me a hug.
"I thought you were coming so we could talk about you and your future, not so you could see the not really important progress of my family in the month we've been apart."
"I can see you didn't have sex with Seb tonight, huh? What a mood," I whispered sarcastically in her ear. She burst out laughing and started hitting my arm.
"Don't be silly! Come on, let's go inside. It's cold and we have a lot to talk about. I don't want you to catch a cold."
Calling her daughters next, who initially resigned themselves to go back home, I finally headed inside with Diana. Seb approached us shyly, as if he didn't want to bother us. Seeing him out of the corner of my eye, and out of respect, I let him pass in front of me and slowed my pace a bit, falling a little behind the couple, but that didn't stop me from seeing how the German took his wife by the waist and gave her a short kiss on the lips, showing the affection and complicity that I already knew they both had.
I wish I had something like that in the future but, as my parents must have known, who would want me with my shitty attitude?
"Claire, sweetheart, make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."
Diana disappeared, and her daughters and husband followed her. I decided to listen to her and sat on the couch, taking a blanket that was on it to wrap myself up. After a few minutes, I spotted her again, now approaching Seb to exchange a few words in a low voice while sharing quite a few caresses for my taste and, once again, another kiss.
In a matter of seconds, the engineer disappeared and reappeared with a tray in her hands that had a couple of glasses, several beverage cans, and a colorful variety of snacks that I didn't recognize.
However, some of them were typical Australian ones. The ones from my home. My home.
I hated that Diana Vettel was one of the most amazing and humble people I had ever met because each time she made me feel more like I wanted her to adopt me, regardless me being 21 already.
"Damn, it's like you bought the whole supermarket," I commented under my breath as a defense mechanism to avoid bursting into tears.
"For you whatever it takes, darling," she answered, sitting next to me and taking a bit of the blanket to wrap herself with it too.
I stayed silent, moved by her words. Since I didn't know how to start our conversation, nor did I know if it was the right time to have it, I just looked at Sebastian, who was now in some kind of greenhouse with his daughters, teaching them what seemed to be how to plant some kind of vegetable or who knows what.
"I know it was hard for him, but he's happy," the redhead suddenly spoke, pointing to her husband. "I tried to convince him not to retire yet, and he tried everything to get me to accept the offer to be Mick's engineer at Williams," she explained. Did Diana turn down the offer to be Schumacher's engineer this upcoming season? "But I guess it was time for us to be a normal family."
"You've always been a normal family in my eyes," in a strange way, yes. They had lived from Emily's birth in 2014 until just a month ago more in any other country in the world than in this house. I would swear that it would even feel strange for them to be here for so long. "And you, how are you?"
The woman seemed surprised by the question. I knew her well, but not as much as I would like, and I knew that this was one of her typical reactions. I also knew about some difficult things for her thanks to my uncle, and others because they became public, like the alleged leaked porn video starring her and Sebastian.
However, all the negativity didn't detract from the fact that my admiration for her was maximal since I met her in 2012.
"I know you're in charge of the F1 Academy with Susie," I continued, seeing that she was still in her trance, "but I guess it's not the same as being on the pit wall directing your husband and trying to make the sport a little more inclusive in all aspects."
"You said it, it's not the same. I miss and, at the same time, don't miss being in Formula 1," she finally confessed. "Feeling so undervalued when you're trying to give so much more than your maximum... it's tough. It's hard to feel like you're enough and that you're worth something, not to mention the constant thought of whether you really deserve what you've achieved."
"For me, and probably for Seb and many others, you're more than enough, Diana. I told you when I was ten, and I still think the same: I want to be like you when I grow up."
"And I told you that you don't have to be like me, but your own version," she added. "No matter what happens, you always have to be yourself, Claire, not trying to be someone you admire."
She lowered her head, shaking it, and then raised it again to look directly at me. I saw how the greenish tone of her eyes was covered by tears that, in a way, made me feel bad for her because it wasn't my intention to make her feel bad.
"You'll become like me if you want then, darling," she continued, her voice almost breaking. "I'm more than convinced, and I'll help you as much as I can to make it happen. After all, that's why you're here, right?"
Damn, the topic I just didn't want to talk about had finally come up, but I knew I had to address it.
I didn't know if I preferred to face my uncertain future or my partially dysfunctional family.
"Yeah. That my family sucks is another reason why I'm here," I grumbled.
"What happened, darling?" she took my hands and pulled me closer to her. I rested my head on her shoulder, and she started stroking my hair, as she had often seen herself do with her daughters. "We can leave the conversation about that extensive work world for another day, but not about your parents. I know it's affecting you no matter how much you try to show otherwise with that armor you put on."
The sigh that escaped my lips was heavy, as if I needed it to start slowly unloading the heavy burden I had on me.
"I don't know why my parents don't understand me," I started, my voice directly charged with frustration and, let's not say it, sadness. "I don't know what the hell to do with my life," I heard Diana scolding me for the curse word, but I didn't care, "and it bothers me that they can't put themselves in my shoes when, look, they've already been in my shoes."
"Claire..."
"Damn it, Diana, I'm their only daughter. If they don't want to support me, they could just refrain from giving it to me, not tell me that all this is an excuse to keep studying or... I don't know, not to start working or whatever bullshit they come up with."
The woman looked at me with compassion, nodding her head. She didn't know it, but something inside me was sure that she did understand me, and it hurt that it was just a person who hardly belonged in my life and not those who had given it to me.
"It's normal for you to feel this way, in the work field I mean," thanks for changing the subject, Mrs. Vettel. "I went through it in early 2011 when I saw that my graduation was getting closer and, therefore, the end of my contract as a trainee," she replied. I knew she wasn't the only one, I knew it. "If ninety percent of me sensed that they wouldn't renew me, the remaining ten percent thought I wouldn't even continue working in Formula 1. Obviously, with too much luck and thanks to a lot of Seb's influence, it was the opposite."
She took a sip of water, put a small Reese's in her mouth and, putting her hand in front of her mouth, continued:
"They say that choosing what you want to dedicate yourself to, supposedly, for the rest of your life is the worst part, but no one warns you that the end of the journey is the worst part of it," she said honestly. For God's sake, was this woman good at everything? "I know how hard it must be for you to feel this way, especially when you expect support and being understood from those who should give it to you the most. Luckily, you have your uncle and your aunt, just like I had my uncle and my aunt."
"Eloise is my uncle's wife, that doesn't make her my aunt. Not to mention the shitty behaviors she has towards me," I corrected her coldly.
"I've also been a victim of that snake, and I ended up blaming it on your uncle, so don't worry."
"The thing is, it's frustrating, you know?" I continued, ignoring the last thing she had said. "Knowing that you can't be honest and you have to constantly pretend to be the perfect daughter."
"Nobody's perfect, Claire, and as long as you're here, with us, these days, I won't allow you to be," the redhead assured me. "You can be honest about anything without fear of being judged by us, because it won't happen."
I looked up at her and was surprised. It was the first time someone, besides Mark, had taken my side and understood me.
"You're not going to take my parents' side?"
"I don't have to excuse them when I think they're not right," she revealed. "Being a parent is... difficult, and when you're all born, you don't come with a manual on how we should educate and raise you under your arm, and they don't give it to us later either, right? But there is something in which I understand your parents.
"In what?"
Diana Vettel directed her gaze towards where her daughters and husband still were. She chuckled softly and glanced back at me, giving my thigh a little tap.
"You'll understand someday if you ever become a mother, or care about someone so much that you always want them by your side."
Before I could even respond, she got up from the couch, swiftly tossing off the blanket, which ended up falling on my face. Her bare feet thudded heavily on the floor as she moved quickly, heading towards the stairs, forcing me to run to catch up with her.
"Where the hell are you going?" I shouted, breathless, gripping the staircase railing to catch my breath.
She didn't respond beyond telling me to watch my language, as the girls might hear us. I admired her as a mother, but sometimes she was so good at it that it exhausted me. The only consolation was knowing that Seb often let out curses in front of their daughters and prayed to whoever was with them not to tell Di, as he fondly called her.
"Diana, I would truly appreciate it if you could let me know in advance if you're planning any outings. I've been on a plane and in an airport all day, and there's nothing I want more right now than to crawl into bed and pray that jet lag doesn't hit me."
"Shush," she immediately responded as she sat down in front of the computer on the desk in what seemed to be her office. "I've been thinking about something for a few days now, and we need your uncle's help."
My uncle? How was Mark going to help me with my existential crisis, to shelter me in his house?
No way. I'd have to endure his wife, and I'd pay all the money in the world not to see his face.
"Mark isn't going to help us, I'm telling you," I replied, getting a bit annoyed by the uncertainty. "Who do you think he is, Cinderella's fairy godmother or something?"
"No," she said, scrolling through her FaceTime contacts until she found one labeled M. Webber, just below another one labeled Lara, followed by a bunch of heart emojis and weird faces, "but he might be able to help you land an internship."
"Mark already has a lot on his plate," I began to say as the redhead pressed the call button. "Dealing with Eloise, for example, takes a lot of work, and..."
"Hello, Mark!"
My uncle's smiling face and raised hand filled the screen. I knew his smile was a bit forced because he had heard the comment I made about his wife, but as always, he turned a deaf ear.
"Well, well, what's going on over there, ladies?"
"You must be kidding..." I muttered, earning a smack on the arm from Diana. "Fine, Mark, fine," I finished, shooting them both a disgruntled look.
"The thing is, putting aside formalities, after your niece more or less told me about the little problem she has with your brother and sister-in-law, and after I've been mulling over what we talked about the other day, I've come up with something," the engineer explained.
Mark furrowed his brow slightly, a bit confused and apparently a bit worried by the words of his former teammate's wife.
"Go ahead, it's all yours."
"Claire is a bit confused about what to do with her future," I stifled a laugh. I wished it was just a bit, and all this didn't feel like it was making me want to tear my hair out, "and she also has to do her final year internship. I thought that, if possible, we could help her do it in a Formula 1 team."
My eyes widened in surprise, and I shouted "what" louder than I had ever said anything in my life. My heart started pounding at the mere thought of me, Claire Webber, in a team of the sport I loved most in the world. I even started to feel dizzy with the idea.
"Are you kidding me, right?" was all I could say to Vettel.
"Do you want Claire to be Diana Vettel 2.0?" my uncle asked with a hint of sarcasm. "Are you planning to create a pilot project and then implement it with your daughters?"
"Neither one thing nor the other," the woman replied, quite agitated, crossing her arms. "Your niece doesn't need to be the second version of anyone. She's already her own version."
My uncle fell silent, realizing he had screwed up royally. Diana, on the other hand, tried not to make a big deal out of it, although she knew it might have affected him. She asked me to take the chair from what used to be Seb's desk and sit next to her, and so I did.
"According to the Teaching Plan of the University of Melbourne, Claire should start her internship period next January. The season doesn't start until March, but she could try to request some kind of leave," Diana explained in detail. I was pleasantly surprised that she had informed herself so much, and especially that she offered to help me.
"Don't worry, Diana. I can look for another place to..."
"As I told you before, I haven't forgotten that since we met in 2012, you've been telling me that you wanted to be like me," she interrupted. "Every time we've had the chance to spend time together, you've emphasized your dream of wanting to be part of this world, so if you not only have the chance but also the talent to make it happen, that's how I'm going to try to do it."
I nodded, accepting her proposal and everything that came with it. If this was my chance to pursue my biggest dream, and I could do it hand in hand with my own Tony Stark, then I had to make the most of it.
"So I should go starting from early March, right?" my uncle wanted to know, seemingly agreeing with everything.
"Yes, but I think it would be even better if she went to the preseason tests," the redhead asserted, getting closer and closer to the screen. "Maybe that way she can make herself seen and, perhaps, do something to get noticed by a team..."
I stopped paying attention to the conversation they were having because my eyes drifted to the back of the image emanating from my uncle. I saw as the door behind him slowly opened, revealing the figure of a guy I had never seen in my life.
His light brown hair fell slightly over his forehead. The color of his eyes was also brown, though a bit darker, and they stood out quite a bit against his fair skin. His shoulders slumped downwards, his gaze was almost downcast, and he seemed to move with such calmness that I didn't know if it was because he was tired or because he was just naturally laid-back.
"Mark," he began to say, "am I interrupting or...?"
"No, no, no worries! Come in and make yourself comfortable, Oscar!" my uncle replied. "I'm talking to Diana Vettel, who you surely already know," he greeted her with a wave and asked how she was, "and this is my niece, Claire."
"She's the one you've talked to me so much about, right? The one who's my age, studies Aerospace Engineering, and is almost as passionate about Formula 1 as I am."
Who the hell was Oscar, what the hell was he doing at my uncle's house at seven-thirty in the evening, and why did he know so much about my existence?
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francy-sketches · 8 months
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Hiiiii guess who finished her pmv. finally. um enjoy :3
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I'm not sure if your event is open just yet (potential time differences) but may I request Lilia, as the ghost, with the prompt 6.Bump in the night with romantic, fluff and maybe a bit of horror cause we know Lilia likes to scare people please?
I'm so sorry if I didn't do this right 😅
Bump in the Night; Lilia Vanrouge
Content; Gender-neutral reader, implied romantic feelings/pining
Content Warning; Swearing, light fear
Word Count; 700+
A/N; I hope you like what I came up with, Lilia will always be a little imp. And don't worry about formatting, you did everything perfectly!
Please do not put my work into AI. If you would like to see more of my work check out my masterlist!
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You were grumbling to yourself as you lit some candles while holding a flashlight under your chin.
The power had gone out due to a blizzard, right when you were in the middle of catching up on your favourite show. But the weather didn’t care about the plotline or the barely warm soup that was now sitting sadly on your stovetop. No show and no dinner, you were shit out of luck tonight by the looks of it.
So instead, you grabbed all the candles you could find, a small horde of blankets, and hunkered down.
You fidgeted around, picking at some loose strings, and tapping to the beat of the battery-operated clock. 
… bored bored bored THIS SUCKS bored bored bored …
You dragged your hands down your face. Why couldn’t the power go out while you were asleep? Why did it have to go out on one of your only quiet nights to yourself? Why couldn’t the power wait until you had your dinner? 
The wind howled outside as if it were mocking you.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and the candles snuffed out, one by one. Not by a draft, or wind, but as if someone was pinching off the flame. The room was cast into darkness, only the pale blue light from outside lighting everything up in a dim silver cast.
Face the issue at hand that had all levels of nope nope NOPE written all over it? Or, hide under the blankets like you were a kid again?
… you hid under the blankets. You reasoned it wasn’t from fear, but rather to conserve your body heat, since hey, the candles died out due to some unforeseen and totally normal reason.
But then you smelt something burning.
There was no power though, nothing was working so why was something burning?
You shuffled to the kitchen and peered out from your blanket cocoon.
The soup, which was barely lukewarm, was now a charred mess of black sludge.
“The hell,” you hissed, eyeing the baffling liquid. Part of your brain was screaming DANGER DANGER DANGER!!! And the other part? It was mourning the loss of your dinner.
A breathy chuckle was in your ear.
You wanted to move, but you couldn’t. You were frozen in place by some unseen force.
You felt delicate fingers trace the back of your neck before they came to a stop at a pulse point, which was easy enough to find since your pulse was beating like a trapped bird trying to escape a cage.
“You always look the same,” the voice whispered, the chuckle and playfulness long gone.
The voice flitted closer, and you could make out a hazy figure in your peripheral vision, but just barely.
The figure, a petite figure, came to a stop in front of you. The only thing about them that felt physical, that was the most clear, were their magenta almost red eyes. They bore down on you with a weight; of knowing, of countless years, of longing, and a mix of grief and mischievous — an odd combination.
“What do you want,” you asked, fighting your mouth to spit out the words.
The man, you assumed the spectre to be a man at least, gave you a soft smile.
He took your face into his cold hands, or at least tried to, and rubbed circles into the apple of your cheeks. “Many things, dearie,” he sighed softly, “but only if you want them too. I’ll leave if you want me to. I just want to see you happy.”
An odd thing to say when you nearly gave me a stroke. 
Despite that near stroke though, you didn’t sense any malevolence from the ghostly figure who held you softly. And despite his cold touch, he was nothing but warmth, but in the sense of a weak candle.
One must just take care of the flame to see it grow.
Time after time, Lilia would find you, his spirit drawn towards yours.
I love you.
Never really said, but it would end in the same way. Him quietly loving you from the sidelines until he found his opening. An opening into your life, and your heart.
~~~~~~~
Taglist; @afunkyfreshblog @bloomstruck @eynnwwyjth @identity-theft-101 @ithseem @lucid-stories @moonsoup01637 @ryker-writes @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii
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carlyraejepsans · 12 days
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i wish i had more energy to draw and plot lately i NEED to make the insane daemoverse flowisk situationship real. i need you guys to see my vision
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dallonwrites · 6 months
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bestie how the fuck do you start writing again when you haven't written in years bc you're so paralyzed with Fear of Writing Badly mixed with How Do I Get Started and also WHAT do I write about HELP
I WANT to write but every part of it is. so. DAUNTING
Ohhh bestie I have BEEN there. Whenever I take breaks from writing I find myself scared that I'll have just….forgotten to write?? I think the fear of "bad writing" is amplified when you don't write for a while, however long, because you have to like hype yourself up to go back to writing and it's like what if I do all that and then I just can't do it? Returning to writing, especially after a long time, for me has taken a lot of mental work, trying to understand what will make writing fun and healthy for me. A lot of it, honestly, is easier said than done, but also it's mental work you'll keep doing after you start writing again and as you write, and for me it's easier to process my relationship with writing when I am actually writing.
A big part of that mental work for me, and something I think is so valuable, is to reconsider what "bad" writing is and give yourself permission to write it. Sometimes you will think your writing sucks, happens to all of us, but that isn't all it has to be. Like yeah, I'll think something I wrote sucks, but I still wrote it. I can revisit it and work on it and maybe I'll turn it into something I'm happy with. And even if I don't, I still wrote it, I learned from it. Writing does not need to be "good" by whatever standard we're holding it up to for it to have value. And you can delete it! Nobody has to see it! Also you can have fun writing something and still think it's not your best. I've written a lot of "bad" scenes that I had fun with because the scene was entertaining to me! I love when writing turns out how I like it, or I write a banger prose line, but equally I found it helpful to give myself permission to not worry about that all the time and just focus on my interest/enjoyment in what I'm writing, regardless of the "quality". Again, easier said than done, but something I've found easier the more I write, because you'll have bad writing days but you'll also have writing days that are so good
I know a lot of people see writing as a skill that they want to improve, and like I agree it feels really good to see your writing grow, but writing is so much more than the skill and the craft and the theory. There is no objective "perfection" to reach with writing like we are not Sims with levelled skills LOL. Writing is art and creativity and it should be fun and fulfilling. And IMO, the more you focus on what makes writing fun, you will grow and "improve" as a writer a lot quicker and in a way that is a lot more enjoyable than if you treat writing like some icy quest for perfection. You also get to decide what "good" writing is for you/your story. Some of my stories are more prose focused and I'll play more with language, imagery etc. Others are more about the plot and just having fun imagining this scene. Sometimes it's a mix of both. What is "good" writing depends on the writer, story, genre, etc. There is no one way to write.
I'm rambling a lot because I'm just really passionate about this and I cannot express enough how easier writing got, including all the difficult and ugly and frustrating parts, when I gave space to prioritise my enjoyment and fun. People love to romanticise the idea of the "struggling" writer. I see stuff on here and I'm like you guys….writing should be fun. Like yeah sometimes it's hard and we should talk about that but like, you Need to make sure you are having fun. Anyway I'm going to try not to ramble and bullet point some things that helped me:
Make Writing Fun: Lol! Literally whatever makes writing fun. Sometimes I just write super indulgent scenes and the fun of that sets me up to work on my projects. When I work on my projects I try to find what in each scene I'm going to enjoy the most, and focus on that to help me write the rest. I make playlists, moodboards, memes, art etc for my story because it's fun, and it helps me be engaged with my story outside of writing it. Just, have fun.
On productivity: some people will benefit from setting clear goals and running towards them. Some people don't. For me it depends on my headspace. I don't think productivity is a bad thing, it can feel good, but productivity should not be the only reason you write. And the most productive writing process is whichever one makes writing enjoyable for you, because that's how you'll get words on the page
On that note, please be wary of anyone online who who treats the writing advice they share as Fact. I'm not saying every writing teacher out there does...but some of them market it that way! And creators do not have an authority on writing just because they have a platform however big. There are some AMAZING content creators out there who talk about writing, and I have found them motivating, but like just let yourself be picky about who you listen to/engage with. I say this because I consumed some very Strict writing advice when I was younger and it literally contributed to my years long slump so like...I'm picky now LOL
About goals: Personally, gentle goals are what help me get back into writing. Maybe just write for 20 minutes, or write every day for a couple days. When I do word count goals, I base them on how I feel that day, and recently I don't make a word count, I'll transfer it to the next session but smaller. So if I try to write 500 words but can't I'll say okay, lets try 250 next time. Goals can be a great motivator and way to feel achieved, and maybe bigger goals will help you, but you're also allowed to adjust them as you go to make it easier
On finding new ideas, having been there before, you don't need a fully fleshed out idea to start writing. My longest break I came back to writing with...one character and a backstory? If you have stories/characters already you can revisit them, either build on what you have or completely change it. Or if you don't have that, if there's a piece of media you like you can take that concept and play around with it in your own way, or you can even just write fanfic until you have your own idea (if you want your own idea, fanfic is cool too!) You can even just find a cool pic on pinterest and play around with describing it, writing about it, seeing if you can get anything from that. Ideas are everywhere and they can be tiny, and I think if you have that want to write you Will find your story eventually. All writers have had the Idea struggle, but I think the more you engage with writing and think about what concepts and stories interest you already, the more you'll like train yourself to get ideas
That was very long and maybe a lot but like, I am very passionate about this! I've been in writing "slumps" where I didn't know if I would write again, I've started writing again with no ideas, and in those times all I had was the fact I knew I wanted to write. There are a lot of reasons why we end up having long breaks from writing and it is totally normal, sometimes beneficial for us, and we should never give ourselves a hard time for not writing for however long. But also remember that you can always come back. Every one of us has the capacity to create, whatever that looks like, and you can make it as self indulgent and self serving as you want.
#also a bit on the creators and writing advice thing#I dont think every creator out there who does How To Do X.....is treating what they say as fact. and i dont think that's Bad#i think they're just teaching what they think is valuable info#but like...you're allowed to disagree with it#but I've also encountered people with big platforms who will say shit like if you don't do This Thing you WILL fail in some way#just because THEY had that expreience...or will do writing advice marketed like Harsh Truths For Writers!!!#and like yeah you might find something valuable in that but like it's all marketing!!! they want you to click on their post and engage!#again! not always a bad thing it's how the internet works unfortunately! but sometimes it IS kind of shady lol and you can just ignore it#i'm saying this as someone sharing advice right now. you can disagree with any of this lol#some people share writing advice online and that's literally how they make money or they're using that advice to sell their product#again fair i dont think that's inherently bad but i think just. look at this stuff with a critical eye. people have experience that can be#helpful but NOBODY is an authority on writing#cause unfortunately some people Are capitalising on the fact there are vulnerable writers out there looking for help#putting this extension in the tags because its not so much about starting to write again but i think its important#in regards to engaging with writers spaces. that engagement can be so motivating but you have to set barriers LOL
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hauntedpearl · 4 months
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dean winchester is like. this is an equal opportunity torture chamber. maybe you are not a person to me, but I am also not a person to myself. get over it. let's go eat burger and shoot gun.
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some-mari-thoughts · 1 month
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What do you make of the idea of Blackspace kinda fusing with Hellmari after a post-good ending Omori gave her true life, therefore making her the entire realm by technicality? Omori would do that cuz he needs something to kinda fill the void that appeared when Sunny left and he's getting desperate after not finding anything in Headspace to do that...
(woooooooooo explaining my omori au lore-)
Truthfully this is so wildly different to my idea of headspace and omori and after-good ending that i cannot make anything of this! i think that's up to u to decide
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#they kinda have to coexist anyway in my head#yes they had a big ass fight abt things and sunny's headspace is kinda all crumpled once again and white space is emptier than ever#omori's still the inner 12 y o kid who is also the anxiety and escapism and so many things and he isn't going anywhere immediately#so they do have to work together and fill it w new things. make smth of it and make it comfortable again in a better way#idk we're not letting the nightmares fester#your story is yours though its just so different from mine that it feels like a string of words that i can't tie togetjher#in a way that makes sense at least#so here you know your story best#also pleas#if u wanna put smth that u made and make me see it please let it be related to me and my blog in my inbox#i WILL spit my hcs and story at u if u put unrelated things here#i don't have the responsibility to react to Your omori content that i did not sign up or ask to see!#that's almost your own post material. let me come across it in the tag when i want to see it#and if i don't it was not meant to be#its an honor to receive your omori art of mari btw if u do put it here. just make sure it's not a constant and rather an occasion#cannot publish your omocontent for you#sorry for the tag rant its offtopic from the post#i do get severe urge to ignore/delete asks that seem wholly unrelated to my blog or a fully cooked personal omori post#and not an ask to tumblr user some mari thoughts who makes art and posts hcs and shares some art sometimes#OMORI Sunny#OMORI character#Knife boi#Son boi#my doodles
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welcometogrouchland · 2 years
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[ID: four page comic of the owl house. Page 1: Eda walks past Luz, Gus and Willow, who're sat on the floor of the owl house around a box labeled "Eda's Music". Eda notices them and peeks around the corner asking "uh, hey kid- whatcha doin?". Luz says "oh hey Eda!".
Page 2: Luz says "we were just going through all your old human music!" While holding a CD case. She continues "I've been getting nostalgic listening to some old latin pop CDs, like what my mom used to play around the house! (You have a surprising amount of merengue music btw)". Gus sheds a single tear and says "I've sampled human music before but, wow, just, wow! The technique...the inspiration...Carly Rae Jepsen is a genius". Willow looks to the side and says "and I've been listening to your old breakup mixtapes!".
Page 3: Eda looks at her blankly before saying "my what?". Willow says- "your breakup music! There's a whole box of it. I'm pretty over it now but back in the day...when Amity stopped hanging out with me...it hit me hard. I kinda had a phase of only listening to angsty breakup songs for like...a month. Maybe more. It's kinda sad in retrospect".
In the background we can see a flashback of young willow sobbing in bed while summoning vines to cover photos of her and Amity on her wall. Willow continues "things are a lot better now don't get me wrong...but I still listen to that playlist every once in a while when I need a release". Eda contemplates, then grimaces, remembering breakup with Raine (who's pictured saying "it's over, eda").
Page 4: Eda looks at Willow. She eventually says "wanna trade?" And Willow looks up. Final panel shows Luz standing in the doorway concerned as she looks at Willow and Eda. willow is kneeling in front of a casette player and headphones with a shadowy expression and Eda is in the family guy death post with a phone and headphone wire next to her. Both have annotations- Willow's says "got One of Us by ABBA" and Eda's is "got Nightshift by Lucy Dacus". Luz says "you guys good?". End ID]
*slides my Eda and Willow trade angsty breakup songs on s2A hc across the table*
#the owl house#willow park#eda clawthorne#luz noceda#gus porter#(i know he's essentially a cameo in this but he has a speaking role at least i feel justified tagging him)#raeda#not really intended as amillow? more abt the experience of taking a friendship breakup hard but lacking the language to describe it#but can be interpreted as amillow if you want#anyway. every stage of this comic kicked my ass and tbh it's not my favorite but it got me drawing again and that's good#i still think the idea is funny part of me is just like. actually we can do better lets take it from the top#which is deranged bc I've already spent like 2-ish weeks on this i am not looking at this for another second#do i think enjoying angsty breakup music is wholly in character for willow? im not sure. she doesn't like dwelling on the negative#BUT like. i think you can make the argument she'd enjoy it in private. she represses a lot of feelings she needs some kind of outlet#and this is s2A in my mind (post eclipse lake where willow and Gus want to check out more human music)#so i feel like I can justify her talking about her angsty guilty pleasure to eda#also like. bby willow is DEVASTATED in the understanding willow flashbacks. maybe older willow tries to ignore things#but for at least a few months it was probably a big struggle for her coming to terms w/ why amity stopped hanging out w/ her#anyway i don't want to look at this anymore. have at thee!#i have 2 (two) more comics thumbnailed and one of them is shorter/funnier but the other one is a hc I really like#so currently a toss up between which one gets done next#it's half past midnight and i don't wanna stay awake until 2 am again so I'll probably just leave this lurk for a bit and then sleep#i hate the way this is formatted (the images are SO SMALL ON MOBILE) but i don't want this post to be more vertical than it is
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uncontrol-freak · 11 months
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so I'm working on something (something in question: a comic).
got a bit too carried away so take a look at one of the frames (that is going to appear in a bit changed version in the comic I mentioned so totally no spoilers lmao)
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freizusein · 4 months
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huh. so is this the mental crash i've been waiting for? [rant in tags to get some stuff out of my system]
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elliesbelle · 8 months
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lol
#humungous trigger warning for the tags in the post#but i just need to vent somewhere and i don't want people irl to be in my business about this#or to get too worried and all...#tw: mentions of death and weapons and mental illness and suicide and sh-ing and abuse etc.#please feel free to ignore like i said i just need somewhere to vent#anyway i'm just so sick of being alive fr i've been so massively suicidal this past week and i'm so tired#having bpd AND bipolar AND depression AND ptsd and etc....#it really hurts so much#and my personal life is in fucking shambles like i just don't know what to do anymore#i feel so fucking alone all the goddamn time#so many friends don't give a fuck about anymore like they straight up just don't check up on me or anything#and my ex... i just. why can't you be more fucking understanding of what i'm fucking going through because of you#how the fuck did you turn my months-long depressive episode into me not caring about you cause i couldn't open about what i was going thru#i get you were fucking lonely but i was trying not to fucking die i was over here being talked off ledges#and then sending me a voice memo saying that you were lonely and trying to make an effort but i just didn't care about any of it#it's not fucking about you!!!! i didn't even let my own girlfriend or best friend in!!!! that's what fucking mental illness is!!!!!!#you promised that you'd be more understanding about my mental illnesses when we started talking again#what the fuck is this then?#why am i breaking down every time that you ignore me or take forever to text#like... she's gone back to calling me by my name instead of calling me 'baby' like she always has#she hasn't called me by my name since we first started talking it's been literally fucking years#and not saying i love you to me anymore...#and how can you fucking promise to stay in my life and still be my 'friend' and then fucking ignore me and don't answer my text messages#how the fuck am i supposed to feel that you haven't responded to me in over 24 hours but you react to days old ig messages from me#i fucking hate having borderline for fucking real i hate that she's my fp it hurts so fucking much#i feel like a fucking child i can't deal with this#i literally woke up from my sleep at like 3 or 4 am this morning nearly screaming#and then my gf found me on the living room couch crying and cuts all over my arm and a kitchen knife next to me#my left arm has been stinging all day from the fresh wounds#too painful to bandage them at the moment
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chrisbangz · 3 months
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gonna try to do the things i've been tagged in recently soon 🫡
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