#this time last year i was confident and happy

[gaysludge]

Maybe the rage deal in the last episode wasn’t JUST “You live but have extreme amounts of rage.” What if they were offered their wildest dreams and the rage was a clause in like microfont bc to them the gifts of achieving their goals and living seems like a great deal especially for children. The rage pushes them to achieve a goal, the rat grinders are KIDS they arnt gonna have crazy outrageous dreams and ambition at 17 years old, I knew nothing when I was that age.

You have a crush on a girl for a couple years and want to catch her attention? Bam. Get more confidence, become buff, get noticed first the first time ever. Oisin was completely unrecognizable before but now after all this?

You hate another rogue so much you want to be better than him? Bam! Kipperlily finds the rogue teacher first AND signs up for the election assuming riz would be the one to do it bc why would Kristen Applebees want to be president? Which could be an event bigger fuel to KLCK’s fire.

You want to be a famous musician and you’re jealous of a bard in school who never goes to class but has what you don’t? Bam! Ruben copies her look and produce music when she’s on hiatus as well as getting signed by her label

Mary Anne’s is small and girly she was probably bullied and wanted to make it stop, so shes now indifferent, and strong enough to stand up for herself, she sees Gorgug on the first day of school get decked in the face jsut to grow into this strong guy and sees him as inspiration

Lucy was content with life, she loved her friends, loved her god and knew the rage wasn’t what she wanted to have to live with. The resurrection is supposed to help them feel fulfilled but she’d just be more unsatisfied with life if she took the offer. Lucy was happy with what she had, and had no further aspirations, she loved her god and 'stuck to her guns'

Buddy dawn a follower of helio, watches the chosen one of his church abandon everything, he’s sad and confused as to why she did what she did. He dies and is offered the chance to become the chosen one for an unnamed god, he’s scared, helio is missing, and if Kristin took an offer from a new god and was okay why wouldn’t he be?

The rat grinders were scared kids who needed a miracle, and one was offered CHILDREN WILL SCREAM FOR HELP UNTIL THEY ARE ARE OFFERED SANCTION, IT DOESN’T MATTER WHO THE SAVIOR IS

#fantasy high #d20 fhjy #dimension 20 fhjy #fhjy ep 16 #fhjy #fantasy high junior year #dimension 20 #kipperlilly copperkettle #mary ann skuttle #ruben hopclap #lucy frostblade #the high five heros #the rat grinders #the bad kids #dimension twenty #brennan lee mulligan #dropout #dropout tv #fabian seacaster #gorgug thistlespring #kristen applebees #riz gukgak #fig faeth #fantasy high jr year #fantasy high theory #oisin hakinvar

[pixiesfz]

I didn’t know j.f x r

plot: you like Jessie but she thinks your straight

warnings: themes of cheating (Jessie could never actually do the act) , alcohol

You had officially given up.

How could you have let your originally small and little crush get so big.

Your teammate was clogging up your brain for the last month, every thing she said or did just drove you absolutely crazy.

You never date, you usually didn’t have time for girls so the team never saw you date or come home with a gal on your arm, you were always so scared they would run away because of your career but Jessie had the same career it was different.

You flirted with her aimlessly and you would catch her blushing and heard her fumble on her words, you just hoped that she could pick up the hint and ask you out or something.

But she never did.

So you never had the confidence to do it yourself, but you should’ve.

Cause here she was now, introducing her new girlfriend to the team on a night out.

“This is Annabelle” she introduced the two of you and you fake smiled “nice to meet you Annabelle, you look very nice”

She did in fact look very nice… you hated it.

When the couple walked away you beelined to the toilet, ignoring the way Jessie looked over to you in concern.

Niamh shook her head at her friend’s obliviousness “she was talking about how before she really needed to pee” she explained lied to Jessie who slowly nodded.

You paced around the toilet, swearing profanities to yourself to be happy for the girl, you never had her and she wasn’t yours, you have no right to feel jealous.

But you did.

The green little monster was taking full control of you , and it did as soon as Jessie and blondie walked in.

God you couldn’t even go five minutes without already finding a way to be petty with the girl you didn’t even know.

She could be really nice.

You didn’t want to get to know her, you didn’t want to see if she was nice, you didn’t want Jessie to be happy with her.

Because you would be so much better.

You just had to get your mind off of it, off of her.

You downed the rest of your drink and walked out straight to the bar to get a new one and an extra shot which you downed as soon as you got it.

Sam, your national teammate and one of the only girls to know about your crush on the Canadian clapped your back as she came to your side.

“You good?” She asked and you raised your brows “I shouldn’t be feeling like this” you groaned, the vodka burning your throat.

Sam shrugged “I mean this relationship is still new I mean you could still go up to her-“ “no” you declared and Sam shrugged “wouldn’t hurt”

“Except it would hurt, I have made it extremely obvious I like her and if she hasn’t made a move yet then it means she doesn’t want to” you explained, anger running through your veins at realising how stupid you were to think that it could be different.

Your conversation was interrupted by Jessie and her girlfriend not long after when they went up to get a drink, you had just ordered a second shot, Sam deciding to join you.

Jessie looked at you both weirdly, you weren’t one to drink on a night out, she knew because usually she didn’t and you would both laugh in the corner about everyone else’s actions.

She remembers those times so well because she would blush so hard whenever you rested your hand on her thigh like or pressed your leg up to hers.

She just assumed you were being friendly.

You were always just being friendly in Jessie’s eyes.

Because in Jessie’s mind she thought you were straight. You had never talked about a girl or a guy in the changing rooms or gossiped about a one night stand with a girl like many of your teammates did.

She had seen one photo of you at a festival years ago when you were still playing in Australia kissing a boys cheek and she decided that you must be straight and he must of been an ex boyfriend of yours.

His name was Dion and he was your dance partner during performances, his boyfriend was the one who took the picture.

When you started flirting with Jessie she was a mess, she kept on reminding herself that you were straight and that you were just being friendly.

you weren’t.

Niamh had tried to convince her friend to just ask you out anyway out of the chance that you weren’t fully straight but Jessie couldn’t, she didn’t know if she could handle being rejected by you.

Jessie had decided that the only way she could stop herself from falling in love with you was to be with someone else.

therefor, Annabelle.

She was most scared of your reaction, your smile didn’t reach your eyes like they usually do when you said hello and usually you never hold your bladder for too long, you always go as soon as you need to so it was weird for you to run off like that.

You were acting weird.

Jessie knew that but she didn’t know why?

“Are you alright?” Jessie asked you as Annabelle ordered for both of them “peachy” you answered dry and she furrowed her brows “you don’t usually drink, especially shots” she said, slightly annoyed at your tone at her “well neither do you but she’s got two drinks in her hands and I’m assuming she’s not drinking two” you deadpan and Jessie looked nervously behind her to Annabelle who stood their awkwardly waiting for your conversation to end before they both left.

Sam lowered her head on your shoulder, “I don’t want to suggest sleeping with a random stranger buuuttt” she dragged out and pointed to behind your shoulder “that girl over there has been looking over at you every 10 seconds, even though you look like a depressed puppy”

You rolled your eyes but looked behind you to see the girl, she was your type for sure and she was looking at you with a look in her eye which definitely were not saying “relationship”.

This was exactly what you needed.

A distraction.

“alright” you told your captain who fake cheered, ignoring the stare a certain Canadian was giving you two as you got up and took another shot.

Annabelle was explaining a story of how her work shift went to her and Erin but Jessie couldn’t take her eyes off of you.

Her back was laid against the bars pillar, drink in her hand as she watched you behind her girlfriend’s shoulder, she knew she was being a terrible girlfriend but she couldn’t help it.

It was you.

But she never expected to see what you did next, after taking your shot you waved softly at someone behind the bar and you smiled, flirting… you were flirting with someone.

Jessie’s heart dropped but she quickly shook her head. You have every right to flirt with people, She was no longer in the picture being taken and it wasn’t like she was in the picture anyway, single.

She almost dropped her drink when the person you were flirting with walked up to you.

They were tall, tatted on the arms and female.

FEMALE.

everything made sense now.

Jessies breath hitched as you stepped closer to the girl, the alcohol you had consumed taking over your body.

Jessie propped her empty glass on the table next to her and excused herself, anger bubbling through her.

Niamh who watched the whole ordeal from her seat next to her girlfriend who was entertained by the drama in front of her quickly walked up to her best friend.

“Jessie” she stopped her friend who tried to walk around her “Jessie” she said again in a stern tone which caused the Canadian to finally take her eyes off of you and the girl who were still talking.

“Jessie, Annabelle is right behind you” Niamh said “Y/N isn’t thinking straight she’s drunk” Jessie pointed at you “And so are you” Niamh told her

“Niamh can you take Annabelle home, tell her some shitty excuse about us having a football thing, you’re the only sober person” Jessie rambled and Niamh’s eyes widened.

“Jessie think about what you’re going to do” Niamh said but the Canadians eyes were angry and they were set on you.

“Just get her home safely, I’ll get an Uber”. she said, pulling up her phone and ordering an Uber immediately.

Niamh sighed before walking over to Annabelle with a fake smile as Niamh’s girlfriend sent Jessie a pointed look, a faint smile on her lips as she watched the Canadians eyes soften on you.

Jessie waited for both Niamh and Annabelle to leave before making her way to you.

You were talking to the girl in front of you, she had her fingers running up and down your arms, it wasn’t giving you goosebumps which annoyed you but you weren’t planning on remembering this girls name in the morning.

You assumed she wrapped her arm around your waist but your body jolted and goose bumps erupted your whole body but you still felt warm, it wasn’t until you felt a breath against your ear you realised it wasn’t girl in front of you.

“Hi babe, I think it’s time we leave yes?” Jessie asked from next to you but her eyes were glaring holes into the girl in front of you

“Jessie?” You asked, shocked and you looked around for Annabelle who was nowhere to be seen, she squeezed your waist tighter “that’s my name” she smiled at you before turning back to the girl

“We’re gonna go, bye now!”

Jessie looked at her phone seeing that the Uber had arrived before grabbing your bag that was still on your seat and dragging you outside with her.

Your feeling of shock had faded away as anger flew in at the girl next to you.

“Jessie what the fuck are you doing?!”

“Your drunk you’re not thinking properly”

“You’re drunk too!”

“Not drunk enough to know I’m making a mistake” she said before opening the door for you.

You’re not even sure why you got in, your teammate sliding in next to you.

Jessie held her breath, looking outside the window every time you looked glared at her, scared if she looked at you she would do something she would regret.

You didn’t say anything either, confusion clogging your brain, why had Jessie done that, why hadn’t she got be home with Annabelle, why was she so shocked to see you with that girl, why did she pretend to be your girlfriend!

When the Uber stopped you didn’t take Jessie’s hand and instead got out the other side of the car.

You stomped up the stairs to your house, Jessie quickly following behind you”I was completely fine back there Jessie why would you-“

“So you’re not straight?”

The question through you off guard, turning around to the girl who stopped in her tracks “what?!” You yelled and the girl winced

“Just all this time I thought you were straight-“

“You what?!”

“I thought you were being very friendly!”

“And now I know you’re not and I just- everything makes sense now! And I acted on my feelings and it’s just all crashing on me now!” She yelled back at you, your eyes still widened.

“How the fuck did you think I was straight when I was flirting with you twenty four seven!”

“I thought you were being friendly!”

You widened your eyes at the girl who had her hands by her side, bewildered you threw head back “fuck me!” You yelled out of frustration.

“How can you be so smart but so dumb” you said softly as Jessie walked up to reach you at the front of your door “I don’t know” she shrugged and you looked at your feet “well surprise I have a crush on you” you joked but crossed your head “but you have a girlfriend now”

Jessie rolled her eyes “I only got a girlfriend so I could take my mind off of you”

“This is fucked” you muttered under your breath as Jessie did the same.

Jessie moved closer to you and grabbed your hands out of comfort, when you looked up the two of you were face to face.

“What do we do now?” You asked softly but Jessie wasn’t looking you in the eyes, she was looking at your lips “Jessie” you muttered and she looked down at you, giving you the perfect view of her own lips which now you stared at.

“Y/N” she muttered back before you looked her in the eye

“we can’t” you told her, stepping back “Annabelle” she said, declaring what you were thinking.

Jessie stepped back aswell “I have something I need to do” she said, dropping your hands before walking back down to the Uber.

You were not surprised when a couple days later Jessie arrived at your front door with flowers, a DVD player and take-away.

“You are such a loser”.

#little happy ending there for ya #woso #woso soccer #woso community #woso x reader #matildas #jessie fleming #sam kerr #chelsea women x reader #chelsea #chelsea wfc #chelsea women #chelsea fcw #chelsea fc #canada women #canada wnt #jflem

[laneywrld]

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part one

word count: 9.2k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

There's no way for a friends-with-benefits agreement to fail when both parties understand the rules.

"Do you ever get tired?" 

Lewis turns his head to look at her inquisitively.

"What do you mean by that, Clem?" He chuckles.

Clem turns over onto her side, propping her head up in one hand.

"Do you think about having a life of your own without racing but with a family, a wife, and kids? Do you ever want to go home and stay home?"

Lewis stares Clementine in her dark eyes before he turns and looks back up at the blank ceiling.

"I don't know." He whispered into the air. "I don't have much time to think about things like that, serious relationships and such." He winces as he says the words.

"You're not hurting me, Lew, I know what this arrangement is. I was just curious." Clem chuckled, plopping back onto her back. She pulls the covers up to conceal her bare chest.

They lie in silence again, and Lewis is left to think about what she'd just asked him.

He spent a lot of his time in a serious relationship, and immediately after that ended, he was in his single bachelor phase; somehow, as the years went on, it never ended. That's how he's gotten Clementine in his bed.

Of all the girls he chose to spend his time with, Clementine was easily his favorite. She wasn't artificial or an ass-kisser to him; she was simply herself. And Lewis wasn't used to coming across women like that, given his status and all.

Clementine was actually the complete opposite of every other girl in his rotation. She was younger than him, yes, but she was also smart and had dreams she wanted to achieve on her own. He liked to joke that everything about her screamed old lady. Clementine liked that. 

What's cooler than an old lady? 

"I'm going to take that as a compliment. I can't wait to get old; there's beauty in knowing you've lived; I know I'm going to spend my life fulfilling my potential. It'd be cool to be an eccentric old lady, just happy and peaceful. Content with life."

It was entirely by chance that he ran into her at all that night two years ago. He had been taking a late-night walk in the streets of New York when he first saw her. 

Initially, her style caught his attention, but the closer he got to her, the more noticeable was her smile and then her voice. God, she had the voice of an angel. She had that classic American drawl, so sultry and sweet like she was straight out of the fifties but with a twist. 

Then he realizes that he's seen her before, and he stops in his tracks, trying to pinpoint where exactly he'd recognized her gorgeous face from.

"Do I know you?" Lewis questions confidently.

Clem halts, her lips puckering in as she squints at the unfamiliar man. "Sorry, Sir. I don't think so."

She surely doesn't recognize him.

And then it clicks, he snaps. "My photographer, Timothy McGurr!"

"Oh wow," she smiles. "I love Timmy. You said he's your photographer?" 

"Yes, for the last four years."

"Wow, four years." She marvels, "You model?"

"No." He laughs, shaking his head, "I race cars."

"Nascar?" She wonders, tilting her head to the side.

"Formula One." He corrects, and she hums, impressed.

"I've heard serious things about you guys over there. Anyhow, it was nice meeting you," she trails off, allowing him to introduce himself.

"Lewis." He sticks his hand out, "Lewis Hamilton."

As she shakes his hand, her phone lights up with a notification just as a black SUV pulls in. "That's me. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr, Hamilton." She smiles kindly, and then she slips into the vehicle and rides off into the night. 

Lewis stands there for a second. He doesn't know why, but he feels drawn to her for some reason.

The very next morning, he called his photographer for her details. Lewis has always been rather bold, so he isn't nervous when he dials her number. "Hi, Clementine?"

And the rest was history.

Lewis has learned one specific thing about Clem since their rendezvous began. She was an intense person. She liked to talk about any and everything. Lewis didn't mind it, though. It was nice to unpack with someone he knew wouldn't judge him.

She had a way of making anything she asked feel deep. Lewis was both enamored and intimidated by that.

Just as she was intuitive, she was equally as open. Lewis knew he could always bounce the question back to her, and she'd give him the most well-thought-out and theoretical answer. 

He loved listening to her talk just as much as he loved fucking her. 

"Do you ever get tired?" He ricochets.

"All of the time, and it's sad because I'm still so young, but I often wonder if any of this is even worth it. Is slaving away so hard going to be worth it in the future if I've spent my glory days basking in trying to find glory."

"I have faith in you, Clem. You're already lightyears ahead of the rest of us with that mind of yours."

She chuckles, and they bask in the comfortable silence for a while longer, both looking up at the ceiling of his New York penthouse like they're staring out into the galaxy.

"Do you feel like you have enough glory?"

"No," he answers honestly, "I won't be content until I reclaim my eighth." 

From the corner of his eye, he sees her head lull to the side and stare at him. Lewis doesn't get uncomfortable when Clem stares at him like he does when most people do. The idea of her reading into him is flattering more than unsettling.

"If you weren't a driver, what would you want to be?"

"A designer of all sorts, really. Music, fashion, you name it." He lists off, and she lets out an mhhm sound. 

"I can actually see that. You have a very creative mind." She praises.

"What about you? What would Clementine Russell be doing right now if she wasn't an actress?"

She chuckles, "Well, for starters, I wouldn't be naked in your bed. I'd probably be somewhere in the middle of nowhere, like Montana." She gasps, "Yeah, Montana! And I'd have a farm full of animals that I'd never eat, and I'd go out and sit and paint or write more stories that no one would ever see. If I could go back in time, I'd just write my stories, not play in them. I would hike the same mountain every day and watch the sunset. Yeah, I'd sit and watch the sunset every day and admire how beautiful everything becomes. "

For some reason, that statement holds a more significant sentiment than she intended.

"You sure do have a way with words."

"I try." 

Silence falls over that pair again until she breaks it.

"Do you think I'm annoying?"

"No, never." Lewis reveals, "I actually like having you here to talk to; why do you ask?"

"Sometimes I feel like I talk too much and ask too many questions."

"I think you make people feel seen when you ask questions the way you do." He hums. "Do people ask you questions?"

"No, not really." 

"Do you wish people asked you questions, Clem?"

"Yes."

That's when Lewis realizes that all that glimmers isn't gold. Clementine Walker had the life of a star. She could do anything she wanted at any given time. Yet she wasn't content with her life. She was actually rather lonely. 

"I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something." She chuckles dryly. "That's pathetic."

And suddenly, Lewis feels terrible for not asking the woman more questions. He feels like a shit person for receiving her and giving her nothing in return. Clementine was better than therapy for him; who gave therapy to her?

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk? I consider you to be a friend Clem. I like listening to you. I like hearing about you, too."

"Okay."

"We can start now?"

"You first." She has a giddy smile on her face as she turns over to face him.

"Why do you think you feel everything so deeply?"

She hums, her eyes casting downward as she allows the question to ruminate. 

"I expect everything to be meaningful. I have a hard time seeing anything objectively. Everything has to mean something to me, and if it doesn't, what's the point? If it has no purpose, how am I supposed to accept it? I feel so deeply because every word, action, and situation has to mean something; there has to be a reason behind it. I've never had someone tell me that things weren't that deep; I wasn't taught to brush things off; I was taught to feel and to try to understand everything and everyone."

"I think that's beautiful. You're such a gracious being, you know that?"

She whispers a quiet thanks as she thinks over what to ask him.

"What's one thing you lost as a kid that you wish you could get back?"

"I had a remote-controlled big Homer car when I was a kid, and I used to drive it in the park every day. I got distracted one day and left without it; when I came back the next day, it was gone."

"Who gave it to you?" Clem inquires, and when Lewis turns onto his side to face her, she looks so intrigued by what he has to say. He doesn't think anyone has ever cared so much for what he has to say if it wasn't involving his career.

"My dad, for my sixth birthday. We were poor, so it meant a lot to me; I really cherished it. Felt like I took it for granted, I loved that car so much, but I left it. How could I forget something that important to me?"

Naturally, Lewis opens up to Clementine.

"You can love something and still lose it, which illustrates how much you adore it in the end. You never really know how much you appreciate something until you no longer have it." Clem enlightens.

Lewis wonders how her brain can process such complex thoughts in mere seconds.

"What have you lost?"

"A letter from my dad." Clem hums. "When he was in prison before things got bad with my mom and he stopped reaching out, I was turning eight, and he sent this beautiful card. It was Clementine orange, and when you opened it, a three-dimensional cake popped out with like a million yellow candles. I remember it saying these candles don't compare to the light you brought to the world on this day many years ago." Clem chuckles as she describes the elaborate birthday card. She picks at Lewis' sheets as she speaks.

He sees her lips pressed together, and she turns to face the ceiling again. She doesn't seem like she intends to keep talking.

"I'm listening, y'know. I'd love to hear more." Under the covers, his hand travels down until it catches hold of Clems. 

"I-um, He wrote his message in like really elegant cursive, and I was a kid at the time, so I had my grandpa read it to me over and over, like every day, until I had fully memorized it. I had never seen my dad in person. I had never heard his voice, not even over the phone. I had never even gotten a letter from him before. Still, the things he wrote in that letter were beautiful. I remember feeling a little less lonely as if he loved me unconditionally. There were dried tears embedded in the paper material. I knew he cried as he wrote it, and that made me feel like, damn, this is a man who means what he says, feels exactly what he writes. I don't know when I lost that letter or how I just knew when I went for it again. It was nowhere to be found. I'm forgetting the words he wrote to me."

"Have you heard from him since?"

"Once but not directly. When I turned fifteen, he was released. He felt like he wouldn't know how to be a father when he got out. Which I understood. I can't force anyone to have a relationship with me. It must’ve been hard going in when your child is an infant and coming out to her fully bloomed. He cried on the phone to my grandpa every time he argued with my mom. She'd say nasty things to him, like how he'd never be a father to me and how I was better off. I figured when you're locked in a cell, and all you can think about is going home to your child, it must’ve been hard to hear that you would never account for anything. I believe he gave up. Not everyone is strong enough to take on that kind of mental battle."

Even as Clementine describes how fucking sucky her childhood was, she is still showing grace to the people who ruined her innocence.

"He never asked to speak to me during these calls. My mother always kept him at a distance when he was in prison. If he had written more letters than the one he sent to my grandpa, like he wrote that he did, I never got them. She was good at telling him that she didn't want him in my life. I don't blame her either; neither of them was ready to be parents. I got a call on my eighteenth birthday. It was just breathing on the other side for a while. I had a feeling it was him, so I didn't hang up, but it was a gravely voice on the other end and he sounded a little choked up. Said the exact same line from my birthday card, I'm not sure if you like cake, but eat a lot of it today princess. Happy birthday. And then the call disconnected. Kind of fucked me up a little bit because I think I was just getting to a point where I was finally okay with not having parents."

"I'm sorry." Lewis solaces. 

"It's cool, builds character." She jokes dropping her elbow and lying completely on her side.

"I pride you on your gracefulness, truly."

"My grandpa always told me that if you can find grace in failings, life becomes more beautiful. If you can find grace in every situation, eventually, those graces will catch up to you. Everyone deserves to have grace; who am I to hold something above someone else because of how it made me feel? You never know what made someone act the way they did. In the end, it may have affected them more than me, but as long as I'm gracious and I consider these kind of things to be a possibility it makes it easier for me."

Lewis thinks back to all the times he handled situations without grace, when he allowed himself to blow up over small things, and how, in the end, it made situations worse than they needed to be. He internally hums at the realization.

"Shit." 

She is shuffling from his bed, sheets clutched tightly against his chest. 

She gracefully moves around his room, the sheets fitting her like a gown. Lewis props himself up on one arm, watching her gather her belongings. 

When she tosses the sheet back onto the bed, he watches as she pulls on her pants and steals his button-up to throw over her thin tank top.

She sits on the edge of his bed, throwing on her worn Adidas sambas. 

"It's been a blast, Sir Hamilton." She bows, and he softly launches a pillow at her. She catches it with a sweet grin and places it at his feet. "I have to be on set early tomorrow. My assistant sent a car for me."

"I'll call you when I'm back in town," he suggests, and she nods, letting out a noise of agreement as she saunters over to his bedroom door. 

"Be safe out there on the track." She blows him a kiss, and then she is gone, and he hears his front door close gently. 

Lewis likes spending time with Clem. She has a way of taking every ounce of stress from his bones.

Lewis wasn't a relationship kind of guy, and he liked that Clem understood that. She wasn't trying to force a relationship on him or was convinced she could change his mind. 

Clem was there for the great sex and the even better conversations. The two of them had made great friends out of each other, and they were both content with the status of their association.

Lewis never told Clementine this, but he liked watching her work. He liked how she could put out art, and he could resonate with it. Lewis thinks that Clem is the most emotionally intelligent person he's ever met, which is why everything she puts her hands on just works.

And it shows. Clementine is the kind of person whose words sound like they're straight from classic literature. She has a way of speaking that instantly captivates every person in her proximity.

Clementine was a Jill of trades. She liked to act, but she was an even better writer. This is why she was awarded co-director of her award-winning show after helping to direct only three episodes. He knew she had a knack for all things creative. She liked to draw, paint, and read, and she had a thing for tattoos just as much as he did.

Clementine was actually so fucking cool.

People loved her naturally; she only had to be herself, and it made people gravitate towards her. 

Being around Clem was like having the hands of an angel on you. It was impossible to feel troubled, even if you were going through the most unfortunate or stressful circumstances. If you had Clem, trust you'd feel nirvana.

Her words echo in his mind. I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something.

He switches on his television and clicks on the Netflix app. It's the first option under his 'continue watching' category, and he presses resume. 

Lewis loved her show, though he never admitted it. It was artsy and different than what was new and hot now. Clem channeled all of her favorites to make this show. He remembers her describing her obsession with Jim Carrey and The Truman Show. Her favorite movie of all time was Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, and her favorite character also shared her name. 

He knew that Clementine cried when she read Tuesdays with Morrie, just like she did when she watched Requiem for a Dream. She had an odd obsession with The Joker movie and was even more obsessed with the lore of how each Joker is portrayed differently. She always saw herself in Charlie, from the perks of being a wallflower.

She rewatched What's Eating Gilbert Grape at least once a week. If you asked her, Tim Burton was the best director in the world, and she had a special connection to Edward Scissorhands. She also loved anything with a narrator.

She was right. It makes you feel each character a little bit more to hear their every thought.

He now knows that she likes to narrate her own show because she likes to talk about what she feels. No one asks her how she feels.

Everything that Clem likes is so deep and complex, and it fits her perfectly. 

He must admit that he had never heard of any of these shows, movies, or books before meeting Clementine. But seeing how passionately she described them had him desperate to enlighten himself. He sees the inspiration of it all in her show. 

Every episode starts with a question. Clem appears facing away from the camera, an oversized Carhartt denim jacket adorning her frame. He sees that she is sitting on a mountain, a camera held to her face, taking pictures of the most scenic view he's ever seen.

Her voice emerges through the speaker, yet her mouth is unmoving.

"You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever, everything unchanged and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

The camera is still panned out but moves to the side, where he views her relaxed frame from the side. As the camera zooms in she breaks the fourth wall, turning to face the camera. The sky is oddly vividly blue in the background and the clouds are all weirdly perfect. 

"Probably here."

As the sun sets, the sky adorned in perfect warm hues, she sets the camera beside her and folds her hands in her lap. She turns to face the beautiful view, and she looks more content with life than she's ever seen.

Her voice rings through the speaker again as the camera pans out, and her body begins to look smaller and smaller against the vast sky.

"You can still see the sunset even on the darkest of days.”

-

The next time Lewis sees Clem is at her the Cannes movie festival.

She is obviously the lady of the hour, and he's had a hard time catching up with her. 

When he finally does see her, his breath hitches as she maneuvers through the crowd and away from the red carpet in a very elaborate gown. She looks like a princess.

Like she can feel his eyes on her, her head turns and she sees Lewis standing amongst a group of other celebrities. 

There are three people surrounding her. Zeus, her bodyguard, SK her assistant and finally her publicist Nia.

She approaches him, ready to greet him with a wide grin; Lewis has a grin of his own covering his face as he steps ahead of the group.

"Lewis, Hi!" She pitches, raising her arms to hug him; he happily accepts her embrace, wrapping his own around her frame. 

"Can't wait to see you on the big screen." He boosts, and she smiles up at him, ready to reply, when a hand clamps down over her wrist and begins pulling her away, "Sorry, got to keep going, Clem."

She offers him a rushed smile, lifting her dress so that she can exit with speed. Lewis has never once felt like the fan in a situation until it came to Clem.

"So the movie is going to be about cannibalism?" His friend asks, looking through the pamphlet.

"No," Lewis combats. "I mean, yes, but it's deeper than that, the flesh represents..." and he drones on describing the lore of her new movie, Bones and All.

His description is almost word for word the way you described it to him after he asked the same exact question.

"So it's a movie about eating people?"

Clementine laughed, shaking her head, and moved to sit against his headboard. Her skin was still flushed from their previous actions, and her mouth was dry. 

"Cannibalism is just the placeholder for many different vices. Everyone has their vices. By using something that damn near everyone looks down on, the symbolism of just how serious these issues are get understood tenfold. Think of it like this, you get mental illness from one parent, and the other denies that you have it. They believe you're perfect, nothing is wrong, but deep inside, there is this illness growing in you and festering out of control that you can't get help for, that won't be accepted."

"Imagine being homosexual, imagine not being able to express that, especially in the eighties; it becomes a bliss you have to satisfy in private. Something you must keep a secret, or something bad will happen to you. Some vices are passed on, like alcoholism or addiction, and even trauma can be passed on, like mental illness; it's about how you have to hide it all, how it catches up to you, and how it ruins you. If you watch it, think about that, Lewis. Think about what each character represents. What is the flesh they're eating?"

Lewis cries during the movie. He sees that he is not the only one as the lights illuminate the cinema, and there are no dry eyes in sight. Lewis would never understand how Clem was able to have such a complex mind and also make it so simple and still artistic to the point where anyone could understand.

Lewis usually hates being forced to attend film festivals. He especially dreads the standing ovations that drag on and on. But he graciously stands for the entire seventeen minutes that her movie receives. 

He's always told Clem that, at a certain point, she'd have to let that humbleness go. Lewis was a humble person, there was nothing wrong with it, but he didn't like that Clem thought she didn't deserve praise for her work. He wanted her to know she was the shit. 

He feels his heart swell with pride as she marvels at the cheers, whoops, whistles, and applause. 

He places his fingers between his lips, letting out a whistle of his own. It dominates the space, and she turns to face him like she knows it is him.

Clementine's grin grows impossibly larger, and she lifts her arm to wave at Lewis. He spreads his arms out in front of him and bows at her.

Clementine chuckles, shaking her head at him. 

Although she attends the film festival every year, this was her first time presenting her work as a director. This was a huge deal to her. Not only was she the star actress in the film, but this was hers. Her work, her words, her art, and people loved it and understood.

As two more dreamy minutes pass on and the cinema falls into an air of collective chatter, she folds her hands over her heart and speaks to her fellow costars. 

"Holy fucking shit," Timothee curses, "do you understand that we just got a nineteen-minute standing ovation?" He places her head between his hands, pulling it towards him and placing a kiss in her hair. "Fuck, Clem. You're a fucking creative genius, you know that?"

-

When Clementine finally got used to people she realized that she actually does like parties. Here she was being celebrated by people, some she knew, some she didn't all the way in France. 

She is in a mansion in France, fresh off the red carpet, throwing back shots with every pat on the back. There is a thrill in being praised, and with each pat on the back or congratulatory kiss on the cheek she gets, she feels herself levitating.

When Clementine first got the idea for the movie, she stayed awake for twenty-four hours, holed up in her bedroom, typing away at her keyboard as she planned and created rough drafts of a proposal. 

If you asked Clem, she doesn't think that she's a creative genius like everyone else believes. She thinks that she materializes how she feels into forms of art that people will understand. She doesn't sit and think long and hard or even look for targeted things to express. She just knows. 

Clem wanted to write a movie for those she felt had been denying themselves. For the kids confused about their feelings and things they can't control. From alcoholism, sexual identity, mental illness, addiction, and all the way to feeling lonely and navigating life on your own. She wanted to make a movie that materialized how it feels to come of age without understanding the purpose of life. And she'd done it.

Clem wouldn't say she was particularly close to any of the people here at the afterparty, minus Timothee. They had grown very close since filming together. 

Clem actually wouldn't say she was close to many people at all other than her small, tight-knit group of friends and, of course, Lewis. Which is ironic because their entire relationship is built on the basis of sex. 

She can't lie; when she first met Lewis, she was instantly attracted to him. He had a certain kind of charm about him that just screamed, You're going to respect me.

Clem liked that Lewis stood ten toes behind what he believed, always. She liked that he was genuinely a kind person and not just pretending for the media. What he put out was actually who he was, and Clementine wasn't used to seeing that in the celebrity world. 

Lewis fully intended to be friends with Clementine when he called her that first night, but the longer they were in each other’s presence, the more obvious it was to sense the lingering sexual tension between them.

Clem wasn't offended when Lewis admitted that he wanted to sleep with her and keep her around without the formalities of a romantic relationship.

In fact, she was fine with it. 

She didn't judge him when he explained how he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. She listened intently when he described how demanding his job was, and she even hummed along in agreement when he concluded that sex can sometimes just be fun.

It'd been two years since she first met Lewis; she was older and more mature. More demanding of herself. 

She was learning to let things go as the days passed and let things come when the world felt. 

She feels like she's gotten to know herself better, and she owes a lot of that to the nearly 40-year-old driver who has taken the time to unravel parts of her that no one else bothered. 

So when she sees Lewis walk through the grand entrance now dressed in a far more casual outfit than the black Louis Vuitton tuxedo that adorned his frame earlier, she can't help the way her smile makes her eyes crinkle.

She rushes from the bar, slipping past the guests, crowding the home, and speeds up the stairs as fast as her heels can take her. 

She lets her dress fall at her feet as she tosses on her own less formal outfit and descends the stairs again in search of her friend.

He sees her first, perched on the stairs with a concentrated face, and he chuckles at just how focused she looks. Her eyes are scanning the crowd, and he waits patiently until her eyes catch his.

When they finally meet, he raises his hand in a cool wave, and she grins, skipping down the stairs. He raises his brows when she finally makes it to him after being stopped time and time again by other partygoers.

"Lady of the hour, huh?" He jokes, pulling her into him. 

"I don't even know these people," she whispers, smiling softly and offering a wave as a drunken man passes by and calls out her name. She turns back to Lewis with fogged eyes, "Timothee wanted to throw an afterparty, so here we are."

"You have been celebrating?"

"I've taken a few shots or so." She smiles, "Can we get out of here?"

Lewis nods, "Yeah, of course."

His hand travels down and takes her own, leading her from the full house. "Where do you want to go, love?"

"Anywhere is fine; just want to be far away from people." She sighs.

Lewis peers down at her, watching as she scours the long driveway.

He motions her to his car and she slips from his hold already pacing towards it. She hops into the passenger side when she hears the car unlock and he plops down into the drivers seat.

"Why are you here in France? You didn't tell me you'd be here." Clem inquires as Lewis places his phone into her lap so that she can play music. He always preferred her music taste when they rode in the car late at night.

"I wanted to see the movie and support my friend." He smirked.

"You have to be in Monaco tomorrow!" she gasps. " You can't do that, Lew. You need rest. When did you even get here?"

"I touched down today after qualifying."

"No." Clem disapproves, "I could’ve just gotten you tickets to the premier. You must be so tired." 

Lewis shakes his head, "M'fine. Besides, I wanted to be one of the first people to see it." Which was a lie because he was totally exhausted. 

"Early flight tomorrow, then?" Clem asks.

Lewis only nods, already knowing her eyes are set on him. Frank Ocean begins to play through his speakers, and he hums along to the song playing. It brings upon his next thought.

"I say you posting in the studio?" He eyes, "Let me find out Clemy girl about to be in the booth spitting."

She laughs shaking her head, "not even, I was just there with Tyler. Did record a few vocals for him though."

"Maybe one day you should, I don't know, release something of your own."

Clem scoffs, "I know you think I can do everything. We're not all great at everything."

"It's true, do you think you can do it all, besides I've heard you singing in the shower; sounds nice."

"So you wait outside of the bathroom listening to me, creep."

He smacks his teeth, removing one hand from the wheel to blindly mush her.

"I'm serious, though. I think you have a beautiful voice."

"Thank you. Maybe one day we'll both stop playing in the studio and do something together." She chortles, "So I guess what I'm saying is, I'll do it if you do."

Lewis smirked, nodding his head. "Deal."

Lewis takes her back to his hotel for the night. He smiles as he watches her from the living room. She is on the balcony, arms spread along the banister. 

He approaches her. Like she can sense his presence, she speaks up, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

He doesn't bother looking out to the view. He keeps his eyes on her. "Yeah, very beautiful."

Sometime in the night, the two of them ended up entangled in his bed, both on their sides, as Lewis thrust into her from behind. One of his arms is outstretched and serving as a pillow for her neck, and the other is wrapped around her waist, holding onto her hand as he moves deeper and deeper into her warmth. 

He knows that when she squeezes around him for that final time, he's as good as done for, sheathing himself as far as he can get; his mouth drops open as he releases himself in heavy spurts. Clem exhales as he finishes, her grip on his hand loosening slightly. 

Lewis doesn't bother to remove himself from her core; the arm nestled between the crook of her neck and shoulder bends until his hand is cupping her jaw and forcing her head back towards him, where he is leaning over her shoulder. He smashes his lips against hers in a searing peck, one after the other, until he holds his mouth against hers. She opens her mouth, and their tongues glide against each other in perfect harmony. 

Finally, they pull apart to breathe, and Lewis pulls out with a hiss. They both fall onto their backs, his taken arm still resting beneath her head and his free arm holding their conjoined hands against his chest.

"It gets better and better every time." She admits, and Lewis lets out his signature boyish laugh, turning to face Clem. She is taking the time to catch her breath, a happy, satisfied grin covering her face as she stares up at nothing.

It's like a scene from a movie. The curtains flowed gently against the wind, and the night sky of Cannes was illuminated by stars blazing through his open balcony doors. Clem's exquisite side profile is the main focus.

He reaches over, pulls his phone from the nightstand, and slyly takes a picture before dropping his phone beside him and reconnecting their hands. 

"I should go," Clem announces with a sigh. "You have an early morning ahead of you."

"You don't have to go." Lewis tested, "It's late."

"It's always late when we're together, Lewis." Clem reminds.

"I- Just stay the night. It doesn't have to be weird. We know what we're doing."

He feels her head turn against his head and knows that she's looking at him with those same endearing eyes. "Okay," she whispers into the air.

"Besides, we haven't talked." Lewis murmurs, and Clem smiles. "Can't break the ritual. You remember when I asked you where you would be if you weren't you, and you said Montana?"

Clem hums in agreement. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Think we should go one day, you and me. See those animals; climb that mountain."

Clem wills back the tears burning behind her eyes. That conversation occurred two months into their arrangement, and two and a half years later, here he was, bringing up small details to a dream she'd told him about briefly. 

"What?" Lewis murmurs, watching her grin.

"Nothing, just surprised you remembered that, is all."

"I remember everything you say to me, Clementine."

"I'd love to go to Montana with you," she whispers after a while. "It's the prettiest in spring." 

"Well, we'll go next spring then." Lewis declares.

Clem smiles against against his arm, placing a peck there. "Deal, if you're not sick of me by then, we'll climb that mountain in Montana."

Lewis turns back towards the celing hoping she can't tell that her simple actions had his face burning and had his blood rushing. 

"You know in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind when they're laying on the ice?"

"Yeah, Clem." Lewis chuckles. "We've watched it a million times."

"That's what it feels like laying here right now with you."

"Thank you." Lewis grins.

"Her hair was blue." Clem points out. "Her hair changed colors to represent their relationship. Why do you think it was blue?"

"They were starting over. Maybe she was still down about erasing him."

"Huh," Clem sighs, "that's a good take." 

"Shower?"

"With you?" She wonders.

"If you're okay with that."

 "I just let you fuck me into oblivion. Why not let you clean me up."

Much cleaning hadn't gone down in the shower. 

clementine

liked by lewishamilton, tchalamet, and 8,898,465 others

clementine the best week, the most perfect week.  

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lewishamilton Amazing movie 🙌🏽 such a deep message.

tchalamet And she's done it again people.

badgalriri Such a beautiful film, queen. ❤️

pharell, You're a literal artistic genius; I look forward to working with you in the future.

user Clemmy + Timmy. The duo we didn't know we needed.

-

As Lewis saunters around the hotel room quietly the next morning, he keeps a cautious eye on the girl in his bed. He trips over his discarded shoe as he focuses on not waking her up. He mentally facepalms himself as she begins to stir.

Clem sits up, dazed and groggy; she clutches the sheets to her chest as she peers at Lewis, who looks like a deer caught in headlights. 

"Good morning," he winces, "Sorry, I was packing my suitcase back up, didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," she rasps, reaching over to grab her phone and checking the time. When she sees that it's seven in the morning, she internally groans but slides her legs off the side of the bed to get ready to pack herself up.

"Woah, hey-" Lewis is by her side in an instant. "Where you going, love?"

Clem pauses, still half asleep she examines him through puffy eyes. "Your flight is at 8:30, right? You're about to head out."

Lewis nods but lifts her legs back onto the bed. "Yeah, but checkout is not until twelve." 

When he realizes that she is still glancing at him in confusion, he sits on the bed beside her. "You can stay here, Clem; get some rest before you get on the road. I'll leave the room key with you. Just let them know you're checking out for the king suite."

He laughs as she furrows her brows. "Don't make it weird." he reiterates from last night. 

She lets her head fall back against the pillows, more than happy to return to her slumber.

"How long are you going to be in Monaco?"

"About a week." 

Clem tried not to think too deeply about his big palm spread over her thigh, his thumb caressing it so tenderly.

"Oh." She mutters, "and then Canada?"

Lewis chuckles, his hand coming up to hold her jaw tenderly, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Look at you," he chuckles, "got my schedule memorized, huh?"

Clem feels the familiar burning in her face as she suppresses her shy smile. "Oh, please." she scoffs. "We've been at this for two years. Of course, I remember the times you begged me to hop on your plane and fly to you so that you could get your rocks off."

Lewis smirks, "Look at that, caught a flight to you this time." And he's bending down and smearing his mouth against hers. He dominates the kiss, his large hand on her jaw keeping her in place for him to use her mouth as he pleases. "Mhmm." he groans pulling away. 

"Wanna stay with you here all day, Clem. But I've got a flight to catch." 

He is standing and bending over to press one last unexpected peck to her mouth and then her temple before he is at the end of the bed and latching onto his suitcase. 

"The keys on the table, okay? Go back to sleep, and order yourself some food for me when you wake up. And text me, okay?"

Clem sits up, still mind-boggled from the kiss, and nods her head. 

Lewis smiles, sending her a wave and easing out of the door.

Clementine nearly screams as the door clicks shut, and she hears his footsteps getting farther away.

Casually kissing wasn't a thing between them. Lewis was sweet, yes, but not once has he sat and caressed her and spoken so softly to her. She had never spent the night with him or fell asleep in his arms. And here he was, flipping her entire world upside down and telling her not to make it weird.

It's what she repeats to herself over and over throughout the day as the tender moments with Lewis replay in her head. 

He was just being a friend, of course he would show up to support her, right? Of course he wouldn't want her to be on the road late at night or extra early in the morning? And they've kissed before, only during sex but maybe he was wound up in the moment, they were friends with added benefits, did those benefits now include impromptu kisses?

She groans as she checks out from his room and hobbles into the waiting SUV where her assistant waits with her packed bags. "You had a time last night." SK teases as he takes in his boss' disheveled appearance. 

"Shut up." Clem grunts, buckling herself in. 

SK raises his hands in surrender and then gets back to typing away on his phone. Clem lets her forehead drop against the window as she drives through the beautiful French city. 

"Hey, SK?" When he lets out a noise to signal he's listening, she asks him for a favor. "If I asked you to find something for me and get it sent to Monaco, do you think you could get it there before the end of the week?"

SK smacks his teeth, "Girl, please, do you know who you're talking to? I could have it there tomorrow."

"You're the best, SK." she smiles.

"Don't I know it. What is it you need me to get my hands on."

-

Sure enough, the next morning, Lewis is interrupted by a knock on his door as he clips on his jewelry. 

He saunters over to the door his pants hung low and shirtless, swinging open the door to reveal the butler that the hotel provided. When his eyes travel south he see's the luxurious gift box in his hands.

"For you, Sir Hamilton. Delivered early today, pre-approved by your assistant."

Lewis thanks the man, motioning for him to hold still for a second as he rushes to retrieve some hefty bills from his wallet. 

He pulls the box from his outstretched hand and replaces it with the bills.

When Lewis closes the door and saunters over to the couch, he plops down and sets the box on the coffee table.

He pulls the stock card from underneath the black ribbon and smiles as he reads over it.

thank you for showing up for me, and congrats on yet another win.

- 🍊

He smiles and taps the card against the box a few times before deciding to open it. He lets out a surprised squawk as he lifts the lid and sees a packaged vintage Big Homer super buggy.

Lewis covers his mouth with his hands stuck between letting out a scream that would resemble a child on christmas day or a cry.

Clementine Russell, he thinks, the woman you are.

He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the gift, and sends it to her.

-

#lewis hamilton x black fem oc #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #poc reader #f1 #black reader #black reader friendly #black female oc

[tj-dragonblade]

I SEE YOU HAVE A TAKE ON MER HOB MAY I HEAR ABOUT MER HOB

YOU ABSOLUTELY MAY, even if it took me longer to respond than intended, oops. But! Mer-Hob is slowly turning into a different fic than originally imagined last year. Which is fine, and good, because what I'd originally imagined just wasn't working. I think I can confidently place him back on the wip list now with a better idea of the shape he'll have moving forward. And for you, thank you for your patience, here is their freshly-drafted first kiss scene:

"Dream?"

Dream glances to where Hob sits beside him, tail fin drifting idly in the water near Dream's bare feet. Dream had brought chocolate, again; the delight Hob had displayed the first two times was something he wanted to see again, and again, and again. He wanted to find every way possible to bring joy to Hob, to make that warm smile light up, to bring his laughter bubbling forth.

The chocolate has been finished, though, and Hob sounds…tentative; Dream's brow creases. "Yes?"

"I've got a question for you. Or. Well. Not so much a question, as something I'd like to tell you." He's tilted his head slightly, is toying with the lowest spine of his ear-fin. "It's. It's—I've been trying to tell you, like I would another mer, but I don't think you get it. And why would you, culturally, you've got no way to know if I don't explain it first right? So I thought, maybe I should just. Try it the human way?"

Dream is perplexed, not sure he entirely follows what Hob is trying to say, but then Hob is leaning closer, leaning in, as if he means to—

His lips touch Dream's, and Dream's heart stops as his brain catches up. Hob. Is kissing him—

Except it's not exactly a kiss, has none of the common elements aside from two pairs of lips in contact; Hob is very still, holding that touch for another instant, and then he pulls back.

Dream's heart thuds in his chest, tripping faster; he can feel how wide his eyes are and how his mouth has fallen slightly open, but all he can see is the hopeful uncertainty in the warm depthless brown of Hob's eyes.

"I'm sorry if I didn't do it right. But a kiss is how you say you like someone, right?"

"I. Yes." Dream is drowning in the instant-replay inside his own brain. Hob. Had kissed him. Hob had kissed him. Hob had kissed him—

"Well. I like you. And I think maybe…maybe you might um. Like me too?"

Dream manages a nod. "Mmhm." His heart is racing.

"Well!" Hob looks delighted if still nervous, and his tail flicks up in the water with a splash. "That's good, then! Brilliant! Okay!" He smiles, all warmth and happy energy. "Okay."

"Merfolk do not kiss, then?" Dream is slowly processing, still catching up, still circling helplessly around the bright spot of Hob kissed me, Hob LIKES me.

"Not many, nope. And I've never. But I've seen enough humans and human stuff to get the idea. Did I do it right?"

"Right enough. However." Boldness surges up in Dream, riding the bubbling tide of joy curling higher within his chest. "Can I. May I show you, what observation alone does not perhaps convey?"

"Of course," Hob says, curiosity in the tilt of his eyebrows, and Dream leans in.

It's soft, sweet; he fits his lips gently to Hob's and presses, brushes them together and apart and together again, aching with the fulfillment of this long-held wish. He is kissing. Hob. And Hob is kissing back, tentatively matching the movement of Dream's mouth on his, and Dream is dizzy with it. His hands yearn to hold, to touch; he brings one up and lets his fingertips flutter lightly to rest on Hob's cheek, away from the delicate spread of his ear-fin, away from the curve of his neck where his gills are tightly sealed. And when Hob reaches carefully to touch him in kind, Dream's heart soars.

A long moment passes before he ends the kiss at last; he draws back just enough to see, to watch Hob's eyes blink slowly open.

"Oh," Hob breathes, voice full of softness and wonder, and his beautiful eyes shine warm with the same.

~ Mer-Hob wip tag for the other recent chunk and some older little bits that may just wind up orphaned

#askmemes #TJs Writing #Sandman #Dreamling #wip: merhob

[wosoluver]

Not good at saying goodbyes.

Part 2/? - previous - next

Lena Oberdorf × Reader

And here you were about to turn 23, you were a late bloomer in football. Only having a big boom in the past two years, playing for Barcelona.

You were set to play the euros for your national team, as you already did play for the qualifiers. You had finally been called up to play, and represent your country. That was, Spain. Despite being born and raised in Germany, you were only a little girl. The most memories you had in football was unfortunately made in Spain. It had been almost 15 years. So it felt like the right thing.

If someone would have told you that then, you would never believe them. You would say there was no way, and you would take the first chance you had, to go 'home'.

But you followed your path, with the best opportunities you had, presented to you. And that's how you ended up where you were now. On a top team, being among awarded players. And you were happy. Really. But something was always missing, and you couldn't figure out what it was.

Asking for a transfer to Bayern Munich as a loan, was a slight desperate try, at trying to fix that feeling.

And the deal had been settled.

And you were feeling great and confident, despite knowing you would have to sooner or later face your old friend, but for only 90 minutes max.

Your plans had been frustrated when a week after the announcement over your contract, Bayern announced another transfer. From Wolfsburg. The very same girl you couldn't stop worrying about.

You deeply hoped you would be better at hello, better than you ever were at goodbyes.

Not knowing where to start was tough. After all besides the loss of contact, you had so many chances of reconnecting. But you both chose not to.

You, because you were extremely scared of the rejection. And her, simply because she was still not over how betrayed she felt, even after all this time.

You didn't know what you were expecting, but being humiliated by having your existence ignored, was not on your list of possibilities.

You came in, to get ready for your first day. Georgia came over to try and fit you in.

"Hello! It's nice to have you here already! Your spanish right? Do you have a german family? You have a german last name."

"Well yeah, I was actually born here, but I grew up there."

"Really? But you play for the national team no?" she asked as you two moved outside.

"Yes, played for them first time this year."

"Hola!" - said Giulia coming close to you.

"She's speaks english and german probably." - said Georgia stoping her friend from embarrassing herself with bad spanish.

"Yes, english or german, or spanish, whatever you prefer."

"We're so excited to have you here, come I'll take you around, you can meet everyone."

And you did. But when you were about to approach Lena and Lea, she simply walked away.

"Hey, sorry about her." - said Lea, with a tight lip smile.

"It's fine."

But it hurt. And it was only going to get worse.

Every chance she had to pass you the ball, she didn't. Everyone noticed at this point. And in the locker room, she didn't make an effort to hide the fact that your presence bothered her.

From that day on, that's what it was like.

You knew you deserved a cold shoulder, but this was too much, and it started taking a tow on you.

You decided to move back to Germany, trying to fill a small void you had deep down, not to make it feel worse. Had you made the right decision?

"Good morning Y/N!" as she caught up with you on the parking lot.

"Morning Georgia."

"I know it's none of my business and you probably don't even know, since you just met. But is there something wrong between you and Oberdorf?"

"Uhm-" in a way you were kinda glad to be cut off.

"I'm sorry it's just been so weird. We've never had something like this happen in the team."

"I'll try talking to her."

You hated the unwanted attention, especially on something you were so sensitive about.

But she was one of your captains, if she came up to say something like that, it was probably because she wanted to sort it out.

Lena's pov

"You need to try and be more subtle, the girls are worried about the team's harmony." - said Lea to her friend.

"I'm not going to play my feelings down!"

"I'm not asking you to. But at least inside the pitch, you need to put your feelings a side momentarily. You can't let this harm our team's performance."

"See that's exactly what your doing!"

"Lena! You just got here. You can't risk this over pride. You don't need to talk to her, just play football like I know you can."

This time she only nodded. This couldn't be bigger than her career. And that she agreed on.

reader's pov

During training today, it felt like something was different. Besides the fact you had fallen in the same group as Lena. And you two did football like you used to. So much, you had beaten the opposite group on 5-1. Something that hadn't happened yet since your first day. Her passes from the middle field to your position as a left winger, made sure that most balls got into the penalty area so Lea and Pernille could manage goals.

The way she had been acting made you think something between you had changed. That gave you a little hope as you went to talk to her, later in the locker room.

"Hey... I just wanted to- I wanted to apologize." - You said barely above a whisper.

"I don't want your apologies. I'm not doing this for you."

"Still, I need to apologize. There's no excuse to what I've done and-"

"Your right there's no excuse." she said dryly as she walked away.

You felt like someone grabbed your heart that was already holding on to it's pieces, and smashed it against a wall.

You never thought you would see this side of her. In reality that part of her had only been created after the harsh reality had hit her all those years ago.

Like you had drove her to create the best side of her. The kind, funny and quick witted one, you had managed to do the same, but for the worse.

You moved as quick as you could into a stall, and cried your eyes out, as quietly as possible. Not quiet enough though, apparently.

"Y/N? It's Giulia." She said softly as she sat down next to you, outside the stall. "Do you need anything?"

You were quiet for a few minutes.

"A hug?" whispering back.

You sounded like a little girl, scared off by the monsters under her bed.

"Of course."

You got up and unlocked the door, as you walked into her arms.

"You don't owe me an explanation. But if you need to talk, I'm here."

"Did you hear any of it?"

"Yeah."

"We were childhood best friends. When I had to leave the country. I didn't say goodbye. I couldn't."

"How old were you?"

"About eight."

"You were just a kid!"

"It's still my fault."

"Honey no! You were so young, I can't imagine how it was for you. You were about to lose everything you knew. You can't spend the rest of your life carrying this weight!"

"Well even if it was a child's mistake, I have lost her forever. If I could go back in time I would."

"I believe you. Just give her a little time, and she'll see it too. What you two did today was amazing! You guys were synced like one. I saw a slight tiny smile on her face when you assisted those two goals."

"Really?"

"Yes, it was in her eyes. She is really good at keeping a straight face, but I'm better at reading people."

"Thank you. I haven't talked about this in years."

"I'm here. Now let's get you home, do you need a ride?"

"No, I'm good, I drove here."

"Okay. Anything, you call me, yeah?"

We'll probably have four or five parts on this fic 🩷

#woso x reader #lena oberdorf x reader #lena oberdorf #futfem #fc bayern frauen #dfb frauen

[georgescitadel]

George R.R. Martin on the process of creating A Game Of Thrones (1/3)

You hold in your hands the second volume of A Song of Ice and Fire… but not the second volume as originally intended. Although I wrote the opening of A Game of Thrones back in the summer of 1991, as related in my introduction to the Meisha Merlin edition of that volume, it was not until October of 1993 that I drew up a proposal for my agents to take to publishers. There is no mention of any book titled A Clash of Kings in that proposal. In 1993, I was under the impression that I was writing a trilogy.

Trilogies had been the dominant form in epic fantasy ever since J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings had been broken apart by publishers and released in three volumes. And the story that I wanted to tell divided quite naturally into three parts; much more so, in fact, than The Lord of the Rings, which is actually one fairly seamless narrative, and not a trilogy at all. I planned to title the books A Game of Thrones, A Dance with Dragons, and The Winds of Winter. I knew right from the start that they would all be large books. Huge books, even. But there were to be only three of them, and…and none were to be called A Clash of Kings. Sometimes the author is the last to know.

As I write this, I am halfway through the writing of A Feast for Crows, the fourth volume of my ‘trilogy.’ There is no mention of that title in my 1993 proposal either. These days, when pressed, I confidently assert that A Song of Ice and Fire will ultimately run to six books… but behind my back I know my lady Parris is smiling knowingly and holding up seven fingers. She may be right. Though I may dream of six books, plan for six books, work toward six books, the only thing that truly matters is the story. And the story needs to be as long as the story needs to be.

In Hollywood, the suits will tell you how long that is. A television show has to fit within its allotted time slot, of course, and you cannot beg, borrow, or steal an extra minute, no matter how much the story needs it. Running times are somewhat more flexible for films, though not as much as one might think. For the most part, the studios still want movies to run about two hours, so they look for screenplays of 120 pages or less, and demand cuts in any scripts that come in longer. My own screenplays and teleplays were almost always too long and too expensive in first draft, so in my later drafts, along with addressing the inevitable notes from studio, network, and producers, I was constantly trimming. In the end, I would deliver a shooting script that was the right length and under budget, but it was never a happy process… and I often went away feeling that the earlier drafts were the better ones.

The size of A Song of Ice and Fire was in no small part a reaction to ten years of trimming. I wanted to do something epic in scale, something at once grand and sprawling and complex and subtle, with a cast of thousands, huge battles, mighty castles, gorgeous costume, lavish feast, great rivers, towering mountains, vast fields… all the things I could not do in television. In short. I wanted to make a world. And for that you need a bit of room.

In my original proposal, I estimated that each volume of the trilogy might run as long as 800 pages in manuscript. The novels that I had written during the 70's and 80's, before Hollywood, had generally come in at 400 or 500 pages or thereabouts, so an 800 pages book seemed very lengthy indeed. The three books of the trilogy would be structured around the long, slow seasons of Westeros. A Game of Thrones would be summer’s book, A Dance with Dragons would take us through autumn, and The Winds of Winter… well, the title says it all. Even in the Seven Kingdoms, where a season can last for years, 800 pages ought to give me enough room to reach the end of summer and conclude the part of my tale, I reasoned.

‘Twas a lovely plan of battle… but no plan of battle ever survives contact with the enemy, it has been said. Writers know the truth of that as well as any general, though our wars are fought on blank white sheets of paper and empty computer screens. For the map is not the territory, the blueprint is not the house, the recipe is not the dinner… and the outline is never ever the book.

- George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings Limited Edition Introduction (2002)

#Ned Stark #Catelyn Stark #Sansa Stark #Arya Stark #Bran Stark #Jon Snow #Tyrion Lannister #Daenerys Targaryen #The Outline #A Game Of Thrones #George R.R. Martin #ValyrianScrolls #ASOIAF

[aziraphales-library]

are there any WIP or long post s2 fics you guys are keeping an eye on? I want to get into something for the long haul! love you guys, thank you!!

I don't read WIPs myself, though I have a couple bookmarked for once they're complete. Here are some long ones for you, which may or may not be completed by the time this posts...

Flaws by indigo (E) (WIP) (now complete)

Aziraphale cannot just sit back and hope any longer; Crowley is too precious to him to allow any risk at all to his continued existence. The Metatron's offer was far too good to pass by, and even if Crowley refuses to see it, Aziraphale needs to take this chance to make Heaven into the place of light and good that it should be. Crowley will come around eventually, the angel knows that impetuosity was always one of his flaws. But what of Aziraphale's flaws? Naivety, perhaps? I am jumping into the post S2 whirlpool with my own thoughts on What Happened Next. Whilst I have every confidence that NG will FIX THIS, I have some fears that Amazon will leave us hanging... and anyway, I want my happiness for them NOW, not in another four years... Angst in places, but they will end up on the same page, eventually! At least one update a week for now, settling into weekly updates by September.

how do we turn on the light? by moonyinpisces (M) (WIP)

Aziraphale ascends to the highest level of the Archangels. And he remembers—well. It’s not important what he remembers.

The End of My World Is You by T_O_S_T_E, WeepingintheTARDIS (G) (WIP)

If finding the Truth means the end of the Universe… would you still proceed? Something’s Up, and that something is the Second Coming. Although many people - sorry, angels - seem to be involved, there’s only one among them who knows what’s really cooking in the hot oven called ‘the Great Plan’. Although — only one?

Don't Fall Away From Me by PhoenixRose314 (M) (WIP)

if i fall, on that day, i only pray don't fall away from me. What if there was much more to Aziraphale and Crowley's history than Crowley remembers? What if there had been an "our side" even before the Fall? What if Aziraphale's guilt was the only thing keeping them apart for the last six thousand years? And what if the only thing that could pull them back together again was the firm belief of a plucky little angel-turned-human-bookseller that love really does conquer all? Don't Fall Away From Me is a post Season-2 Good Omens fic that rotates perspectives between Muriel, Crowley and Aziraphale.

Are We Meant to Read the Footnotes? by RiaTheDreamer (T) (WIP)

After Aziraphale’s decision, Crowley chooses coffee, not death. Life goes, painfully, on, and Crowley does his best to adapt to his new lonely existence. It hurts. Until it suddenly doesn’t. Someone has opened the Book of Life and erased Aziraphale’s name. Old habits kick in, but how can Crowley save someone whose existence has been destroyed and forgotten?

- Mod D

#good omens #good omens s2 #ineffable husbands #long fic #mod d

[triluvial]

Imagine being a freman captured by feyd and just as you’re on the cusp of stockholm syndrome he spits on you. To him he’s just degrading you but you see it as an honor he’s giving you his water…

oh I love this. I feel like to fall into this the Reader has to be primed for it.

Like the Fremen seem to live in fairly small groups (aside from the deep south) so if Reader came from a bigger family then their romantic options may be severely limited. Reader, feeling lonely and longing to leave their small settlement just to find romance would be a great start for this AU.

Then when Feyd captures her, she knows he's probably going to be tortured and killed or turned into a slave. She may have read books and heard stories of dark lovers being soft for their one true love but she's not an idiot, she's under no illusions this will happen to her.

But then the first few weeks pass and Reader is unharmed. She's not tortured or raped and doesn't even see the face of any person other than Feyd.

Feyd is likely thinking he'll keep Reader like an exotic pet - the last of her kind once he razes Arrakis to dust - as he torments her with news of Fremen death. (Paul's rebellion is taking way longer ig)

Unintentionally, he's training Reader bit by bit to be totally dependant on him. He brings her food and water when he visits every second day so the relief of hunger and thirst becomes inescapably entwined with Feyd's presence. As he is literally the only other person she sees, he becomes the only thing she can think about, the only thing she ever dreams about.

This is when the spitting scene occurs. It's a declaration of love. Reader's thrilled. She swallows. Feyd begins to spend more and more of his time just thinking about Reader because no one ever reacted that positively to him just behaving however he wanted (this would probably work best if the Harpies weren't allowed to come with him, were killed right after he arrived on Dune or never existed in the first place).

Childish dreams of an Out-Worlder sweeping Reader off her feet and away from her inescapable family and into a life of dramatic romance begin to be mapped onto Feyd's face as Reader spends most of her time alone in the darkness of her cell.

Until I'm thinking Gurney and some Fremen scouts break into the Arrakeen palace for an assassination attempt and while they're there, they free Reader against Paul's orders (Hey, she has a big family at least two of them are on the team). She's ok with leaving until she learns they want to assassinate Feyd. The Harkonnen tactics advanced so much upon his arrival they think they can win if they take him out. Reader knocks them out from behind. This is how Feyd find her. Surrounded by the unconscious bodies of her would-be rescuers.

I couldn't pick an ending here so here's both:

Feyd tests Reader by "accidentally" letting her take one of his swords. She uses it to kill the scouting team to protect him. He proposes with the idea of stringing her along and seeing what else he could make her do for him before locking her up again. However, the horror that his fiancée evokes in the Bene Gesserit makes him so happy he decides to drag it out longer. Then, she tells him about the deep-south holdouts and stops him from relaxing when all the northern Fremen are seemingly dead he has to keep her on his arm a little longer. Then she wins a sparring match against him so he has to keep her around until he can soundly beat her, take everything she can teach him and turn it against her. Before he knows it they've been engaged for a year and there's legitimate wedding planning happening. He still wouldn't call it love but it might be as close as he gets. Reader still loves it when he spits on her.

Feyd gets Reader to fake a break-out and helps her move the unconscious rescuers out a secret escape. When they wake up she claims Feyd found them but she killed him and dragged them all to freedom. She's his spy on the inside and with the confidence of Feyd's supposed assassination Paul and the other Fremen will be overconfident. This would probably culminate in Feyd winning the knife fight against Paul and then saying, "You did perfectly, sweetheart." And Reader bolting like an Olympian into his still bloody arms.

#feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #original #asks #feyd x you #thank you so much for sharing your idea! #Hope i did OK!

[akatsuki-shin]

- A Short #Ratiorine Threadfic -

Kakavasha has a strange dream.

The dream is a recurring one; he does not remember when it first begins but he knows when it will appear:

After he experiences an especially unpleasant situation in his life.

The earliest instance he could recall was the night after his mother passed away.

Still but a young child, he had quietly cried himself to sleep then when someone appeared in his dream.

He could not see that person's face, and neither did he know who it was. He only knew that the other person was also a child just like him.

And, without saying a word, that unknown child hugged him closely, tightly, as if trying to shield him the entire world.

From then on, the dream would always come to him every time he went through a particularly difficult experience.

On days he went to sleep on empty stomach.

On days he slept shivering from the cold.

On days they were attacked by the ruthless Katicans.

That dream also appeared the day he bet his life with the Katicans to retrieve their mother's necklace.

He might have made it sound easy when his sister asked, but Kakavasha could not lie to himself, how scared he was to think that it might be the day he finally died.

The child from that dream would always do the same thing.

They would hug him tightly, wordlessly, and stayed like that until it was time for Kakavasha to wake.

There was something that Kakavasha noticed after a while: the child in his dream appeared to grow up alongside him.

The older he gets, the older that child would be. The taller he grows, the taller that child would grow, as well.

But bewildered as he was, Kakavasha eventually stopped caring about that. Because being held in those arms that were as small as his was the only warmth he had ever known in his life, even if it was merely a dream.

And then the day came when he lost everything and everyone under that thunderstorm, soon bought away for a meager 60 red copper coins to be a slave to men.

From that day onwards, his dream lasts longer and longer.

It is as though the child in his dream, now a boy just like him, knows that his days have never been happy, so he stays with him longer than he has ever done before.

And he continues to grow up with Kakavasha throughout the years until they both become young men.

At one point, Kakavasha realizes that this man is now already half a head taller than him. His build is somewhat sturdier, too.

But perhaps that is a given, considering how Kakavasha grew up in the barren land of Sigonia and now an abused slave. Neither situations grant him many chances to consume good nutrition to support his growth.

However, he does not have any complain. Because he can sink deeper into that person's arms now, surrounding himself with the warmth he can only find in this dream.

"I wonder if I can ever meet him one day."

With this thought in mind, for the first time, Kakavasha tries to look at that person's face. But to his surprise, the man disappears from his sight and the dream ends in an instant.

From that day onwards, he has never seen that dream again.

Kakavasha has many regrets in his life but this is perhaps the one thing that he regrets the most.

He shouldn't have been too greedy. He should've been satisfied with what he has.

But he cannot undo what has happened. He can only keep on living, now without a haven for him to find comfort in his hardest days.

Time passed and Kakavasha, now an elite member of the prestigious IPC, is heading to his first meeting under his new name: Aventurine.

He was informed it would be attended by other elites of the organization, including the renowned members of the Intelligentsia Guild.

"Come and introduce yourself to everyone," Jade says.

So Aventurine steps into the meeting room, having mustered all his confidence to present himself the best that he can.

But when he lifts his face, his eyes accidentally meet someone else's in the room and his heart nearly stops.

Similarly, that person's eyes also dilated briefly when meeting his, even though they not say anything about it.

"What's the matter, Aventurine?" Sensing an unusual pause from him, Jade gives him a little nudge.

"…Lady, may ask who that gentleman is?" Aventurine whispers softly to her.

"Ah, him… He is Dr. Veritas Ratio, a scholar and teacher from the Intelligentsia Guild, a genius who currently has eight doctoral degrees under his name."

"I see…"

"What is it? Do you know him, Aventurine?"

To that question, Aventurine returns his gaze to the man named Veritas Ratio.

Their eyes meet once more, and even though the latter does not say a word, Aventurine knows that he knows who he is.

His lips curl up into a smile.

"Yes. I suppose I do."

- THE END -

#honkai star rail #hsr #ratiorine #aventurine #hsr aventurine #dr ratio #veritas ratio #fanfic #fan fiction #writers on tumblr

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC interview

Thanks to @bloodmoonloveletter here, @mk-writes-stuff here, @illarian-rambling here, and @elsie-writes here!

Last did Wade here.

Doing Jazlyn now because I don't talk about her enough and I'd like to develop her character more!

Are you named after anyone?

“Nope. The one and only, girl. I'm just Jazlyn!”

When was the last time you cried?

“Oh, pfft! I don't cry. Maybe out of sheer boredom listening to Dr. Ass-ghar ramble on about her rules and how I'm not following them! Like, girl, I can't help that I have fire powers and lit something on fire! That would be like getting mad that Gabe got a little dirty. Oh, and her meetings are the wooorst. Yeah crying for my life in there.” [It was during Ewan's clarinet solo actually]

Do you have kids?

“Girl, what? I'm not even eighteen yet! Close... I'd love kids, honestly. A lot of them! I'd have so much fun with them!”

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

“Look, I know I come across as someone who uses sarcasm, but I'd rather just flat out say what I'm thinking. Why be like ‘wow that was so riveting’ when I could say, ‘this is the most boring crap I have ever seen in my entire life’? So much easier, no mental hoops. Besides, Ewan is the most oblivious to sarcasm I have ever seen.”

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

“Their confidence level. I can usually tell how someone feels about themselves based on how they stand. Posture is the key, but also what they're doing with their hands.”

What’s your eye colour?

“Brown. With some golden flecks when the light hits them right, according to Ewan.”

Scary movies or happy endings?

“Easy, scary movies. This question is stupid - they aren't opposites. However, nothing is more fun than a horror movie. Love getting the blood pumping. Yelling at the characters for being massive dummies is also the best. Horror is the most entertaining to watch with others. Ewan thank the Lord is also a horror enthusiast. We make a habit to have at least one or two horror movie nights a month.”

Any special talents?

“Oh, several. I am pretty athletic. Took cheerleading a while back and now I am on my high school basketball team. At first, I wasn't sure I would like basketball - my coach in middle school pulled me aside and recommended it due to my height, but I love it now. I am also getting pretty good at learning archery. Lighting the arrows on fire makes that more exciting. I am also pretty good at martial arts and my pyrokinesis. Working on breathing fire without burning my throat. Thank the Lord I have Wade to heal me so I can try again!”

Where were you born?

“I was born in flippin' Utah. I know--lily white state, you'd never guess. Ewan and I plan to move somewhere else once we can. Can you believe he was born in Alium? That ain't fair.”

Do you have any pets?

“Ewan and I plan to one day get a dog. We have been planning on moving in together for a while.”

What sort of sports do you play?

“Like I said, basketball. I would love to learn how to play this Alii fireball sport. It's very similar to basketball, but pyrokinetics pass around fire. That sounds like so much fun, man. Did you know they have to keep a healer at each game because not all pyrokinetics are immune to fire? And the audience can get hit too if they're not careful! This sounds like such a fun sport.”

How tall are you?

“I have finally passed six-foot-three. Alii heights are a blessing and a curse.”

What was your favourite subject in school?

“I hope you tell me PE counts as a subject cause I ain't saying anything else. School sucks, girl. I have gotten detention for the lamest reasons imaginable.”

What is your dream job?

“I would love to be in sales. Something about convincing people to do what I want is inticing. Planning on getting a marketing degree when I go to college next year.”

Tagging @leahnardo-da-veggie @eccaiia @mysticstarlightduck @monstrouswrites @mrbexwrites @gottestod-writes @willtheweaver @winterandwords @i-can-even-burn-salad @elizaellwrites @chauceryfairytales @somethingclevermahogony @faeriecinna + anyone else who wants to!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

Blanks below the cut

Are you named after anyone? When was the last time you cried? Do you have kids? Do you use sarcasm a lot? What’s the first thing you notice about people? What’s your eye colour? Scary movies or happy endings? Any special talents? Where were you born? Do you have any pets? What sort of sports do you play? How tall are you? What was your favourite subject in school? What is your dream job?

^for an easy copy and paste

#the secret portal #tsp #teaspoon #jazlyn nyambura #oc interview #oc tag game #writing tag game #my oc #writers on tumblr #writing community #writers of tumblr #writing on tumblr #writeblr #writeblr community

[abby420]

nothing sadder than reading back on old texts reminiscing on when life was actually good and you weren’t alone

#this time last year i was confident and happy #and i had friends i loved that loved me #and i had a job i was great at #i was a literal girlboss #everyone at my job looked up to me #i was doing great in school #i went to therapy #i was surrounded by family #i was HAPPY #and now i’m…here #family is 2 hours away #all my friends grew away from me #i haven’t been able to make new friends #it feels impossible here #i can’t afford therapy anymore #i’m getting treated like shit at my new job despite me trying my best #and this city fucking sucks !!!! #i used to be happy…..and now i’m here and i’m miserable and i regret ever leaving #i just can’t handle this crushing loneliness anymore #i’m so alone #it hurts #and i don’t think i can make it anymore #i’m scared it’s not gonna work out #i don’t think it will #i just want to go back #the worse thing is nobody knows how hurt and alone i am #bc i can’t talk to anyone about it #i have no one to talk to about it

[flamestar126]

Snuggling near the fire

Click for better quality

#dexdark #dexter's laboratory #dexter's lab #dexter #mandark #I AM SO HAPPY TO FINALLY POST THIS LOL #near christmas time for them and they're currently hunting down ole saint nick but dex fell asleep and mandark is taking care of him #ty cherry for the inspiration of just mandark staring lol i kept thinking back to it and it got added lol #earlier that day they played in the snow and made a snowman and mandark stole his gloves the snowman lmao good luck finding them later #mandark also put sticks together to replicate the M on his hair #psst they're newly weds that year by the way. their rings >:3 it's not on the correct hands because i wanted it shown loll #i love the fire so much i wanted it to look good this year since last year i wasn't too confident to even make one #monkey didn't get one a stocking because he spent christmas with that agent instead #mandark makes his own wrapping paper and ornaments it just wasn't shown #blanket is important to me later haha that feels like a spoiler... #the pictures in the back was originally be a marriage photo and a protrait of ducky but they were quickly changed to another drawing i made #and sims 4 photo i have of them. that idea was my sister's in order not to spend too much energy on the drawing #i think the atom tree topper is gonna be a reoccurring item i just really like it and there's lord vader's helmet in there too! #mandark's sweater says “I'll deck your halls.” #dexdarkholidayevent2023 #dexdarkmas2023 #flame draws

[vampirecatboy]

when your theme week fic gets reblogged by the blog that ran the theme week 😳

#stuff and things #and then gets nice comments from people who follow that blog 😭 #to think this time last year #practically to the day #i had lost like all confidence in my writing abilities thanks to unprompted criticism from (now ex)friends #it makes me so happy that people like what i write #because it's something that i love to do and work hard at #to see that love and hard work recognized is a great feeling

[illogicalghost]

.

#big gender rant ahead i just need to write down my thoughts #personal #so i think im a he/him trans lesbian?? #i think ive been denying my feminine side for a long time now but middle school me was right. well. half right #idk why id built up some weird barrier in my mind about being trans and being a lesbian #but now im like more sure than ever #i still dont know if i could call myself a woman. and i thought i was so adamant about not using she/her again but it honestly? #doesn't bother me that much anymore. its not my preference but its not as soul crushing as it used to be #i have these weird subliminal gender rules for myself that ive been beating myself down with even though i #understand that theyre fake and dont hold anyone else to them. so why have a double standard? cant i have a fun gender? #ever since high school its been an uphill battle just letting myself live freely and having self confidence #i just turned 24. i dont have to be beholden to stupid hormonal teenage self loathing anymore #the world is a beautiful place and gender is just made up anyway. so why cant i be trans and butch? who cares?? #i think i worded it well in my last personal post. ive been living a gender of convenience #but fuck that! i want the gender that makes sense to me! that makes me happy! its my life and i should live it how i want to! #...i still have some regrets about my top surgery. i wish i wasnt so weirdly flat chested now. #but hopefully the fat will redistribute eventually and itll look more natural as the years go on.. #but i definitely dont regret going on T. i love my deep voice and my body hair #anyway if you've read this far thanks for listening to my mad ramblings #and dont forget you can have a fun gender too!

[bahrmp3]

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#personal #now that the new year's has passed I feel like I can talk about it I did not have a good time lmao it started fine I guess? I was going to #play music for the new year but then mum made a comment about me still on laptop so I shut it bc ok fine let's not #then it was down hill from there? like I ignored it and was like let's not make a thing out of it so we are saying what we liked this year #/ what we want to do and mum goes and for my son I want x y z and didn't mention me so joe asks her and for if she has anything to say for #me? any wishes? but she doesn't lmao later on she goes (if only you would say what you want we do not know anything about you) #she didn't even mean it she said just to hurt like I was taking a video of this and lit off frame my face is dropping #later on she goes (and you didn't even say what you wish for us either) as she leaves and later when I'm talking to my brother #and I protest this he goes (welp what can I even say? like I told you before are pretty selfish) and idk what to say I was surprised I #don't think I'm selfish tho? I legit was the one to cook for us and got cake? I try so much but keep being labeled selfish this is the #second time he tells me that in the last two weeks I think and both are unfounded ngl anyway all of this pales in the last thing #so we call dad to say happy new year! Well joe does and I mean ok I was still pretty upset about what happened an hour ago so ofc I wasn't #cheerful when calling dad lmao but like I was saying all the right things anyway? but Joe kept gesturing at me to smile its a phone call #and after the phone call he has like (why are you always so depressed? if I were you and I finally got a laptop I would be flying from joy #why are you always so down? why can't you just be happy?) and I honestly don't know what to say lmao ok so I wasn't flying from joy with #my laptop but idk how to say it here but then like what's worst? being hurt and not a person recognising that you are hurt? and in fact #asking you why aren't you smiling? or idk being too depressed for others?? what's funnier is mum later on was like (don't let anyone words #change you you shouldn't yield to others) in reference to Joe's speech but like hello mama?? not 2 hrs ago??? #anyway so I asked her if I shouldn't be listening to her words then? and she was saying yes with confidence like does she not #see either how she hurts me? how she keeps hurting me voer and over and over??? #God I should have made that pizza and truly be selfish maybe I wouldnt have been hurt like that #tbd

[paintedpawz]

Finally found the art program for me it seems, even though Krita gave me some troubles at first, I got comfortable pretty quickly once I worked out the tools. :D I’ve been wanting to practice with reference images, as well as it helps cement my fursona’s design!  Still might tweak the colors to be a little more pleasing to the eyes.  Even than, Pig looks amazing in digital art now that I got a better grasp on their design! 

Anyway, Pigment is happy because they woke up and remembered it’s pride the 1st!!! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

Reference was this meme~

#I'M SO HAPPY HOW THIS CAME OUT AAAA #this is actually a big step for me! #I've been so busy waiting for my new computer to get set up and than my best friend came up for a vacation here #so I've just been busy and busier this past month! #and depending on what I can find I might get a part time job this summer??? #every day I'm taking baby steps into becoming independent just slightly enough even though I'm disabled and had a lot of confidence issues #so I guess I've always been kinda forced fed that I wasn't smart enough or that I'm a failure #and every day I'm trying to make up for the last 15 years of depression and trauma that I missed out in life #and finding the things that make me happy again #and i can still be critical of my art compared to how far ahead my friends are due to drawing longer than I have #slowly but surely though I'm starting to like my art again #and pigment is kind of meant to symbolize that for me too #it's just funny to me how my own oc became my comfort character X'3 #Pigment The Axolotl-Dog #ooooo you wanna reblog my art and draw my fursona so bad it makes you look stupid ooooo #i kid of course #Furry Fandom #Furry Art #kritaart #Pawz Drawz!