#(I don't expect an answer to that question but nonetheless I think I deserve it. as one of like four people who give a fuck about him.

[essektheylyss]

Here's the thing. Yes of course I am very excited that there is more of my boy tonight. But what I am MOST excited about is that we are finally getting ASSEMBLY POLITICS LORE THAT I HAVE BEEN ASKING ABOUT FOR A YEAR AND A HALF

[dalliancekay]

Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE

Can't believe I have to say this. TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry) I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to (or at least should) suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering. As the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop....

...after this he drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon. Or, for the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale. Not to mention when he doesn't react in the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley. For Heaven. Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere." And so for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3 (to I assume) even out the scores. Or... to deserve Crowley. Some people also want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he has (so thoughtlessly) done.

Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.

I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great. The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book, my mum got a call. The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner. She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers. I...did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after. My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again. TW/Personal content over. WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could. I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating as well, and by furiously (but quietly) trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel I get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling. I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck (Crowley's 'What's the point of it all' at the beginning of S2). I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, but I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere. Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.

But his emotions are valid nonetheless. He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying from then on.

And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?

How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?

How did Aziraphale spend the night after vanquishing the demons and starting a war? He had no idea where Crowley was. What happened to him. He was probably sick with worry that Hell just took him away. We didn't see him drink and cry, but surely, the worry must have been overwhelming. The wait for what will happen now.

ALL his worries over the Arrangement. Was he worried for himself? Do we really think that?

Crowley thought he lost Aziraphale in S1, yes, we saw that. And what happened to the angel then?

He got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps. Why is he hurt? And why is he quickly pretending he isn't? Why is he always hiding how he feels? Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back. It's not a grand gesture, he doesn't deliberate, doesn't worry that he will Fall (although surely that must have been what he thought will happen if he survives this), there's no pomp around it, he thinks it and then does it. No hesitation.

Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it? Who loves to follow rules? And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was most likely gone. That he probably left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him. Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale? About his sadness?

Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works. First of all, he was suppressing his emotions OUT OF LOVE. His main goal was always to keep Crowley safe. They simply couldn't run away or hoodwink Heaven and Hell. They had nowhere to go. They had no hope and yet they kept loving each other. That's courage. I know we all grew up with Romeo and Juliet and Heathcliff and Cathy and we FORGOT that those were CAUTIONARY tales. And this is not what Aziraphale wants for them. He would never allow himself to go so fast he would hurt Crowley. He feels guilty enough for agreeing to the Arrangement and for meeting Crowley at all when he knows they can be discovered and punished at any point. And Crowley knows it and RESPECTS it. He does not tolerate Aziraphale's decision to not go on a date and to hell with circumstances. He understands Aziraphale's reasoning and he respects Aziraphale's decision. Don't forget, they have NO POWER. They can't change Heaven and Hell. They can't stop believing in God and work on their religious trauma. Their Heaven and Hell are real places with real power and they both BELONG to them. Aziraphale's trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd probably never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress like Crowley does. He will learn to be more open, I'm sure. With his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. They got a little bit of freedom for themselves despite ALL odds. So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.

Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love. If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom. * One more note on grief: (obviously from my personal experience) As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment

It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, not at all. But asking how I am can only end up in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid, unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway. Does that make sense? I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do). I think...this would probably work not just for someone who is grieving but also for someone who you know is dealing with depression for example or a serious illness etc. Edit 2. It's now almost (in 15 days) a year since my brother died. The random attacks of pain and grief have lessened and I have started to do more of the things I enjoyed before... and I am able to answer how are you questions without feeling like they are trying to mock me (the questions, not the people). So I suppose things do get ... lighter? More diffused? I'm not sure. Because it's still exactly as unfair that my brother has not lived this past year as it will be however many years I will be here without him I expect.

[spacesodaa]

I stumbled across your albedo avalanche fic and fell in love with your writing! I saw your requests were open and wondered if you would be happy to write one with aventurine and afab reader with a shot of angst? Perhaps they are working together and his love gets hurt?

Thank you so much for your works, BTW! ❤️❤️

Aww tysm!! I really appreciate you liked my writing 🥹 I had a lot of fun writing this, hope you like this as much as I do!

Aventurine x Reader - Back To You

Characters: Aventurine, Reader (afab)

Summary: Aventurine makes a risky move during a trade with some bandits and you get hurt in the process.

Warnings: blood, angst, hurt/comfort

A/N: not proofread lmao

Aventurine watched in horror as you dove in front of him, catching the dart in his stead. He had calculated that provoking his possible business partners coult result in violence, but apparently he was horrible at math because never in a million years would he have expected you to take the shot for him. Not because he didn't think you would be apathetic to dire situations, but because he didn't think he was worth the trouble.

That was a reoccurring theme in your relationship, you have always had to remind him he was worth every effort you put in, even though his convictions were hard to break.

Aventurine deftly caught you before you could hit the rocky floor of the cave. It had been a risky move to meet the group of men in an isolated place like this, but again he had failed to take into account you had insisted to go with him and it wouldn't have been just his sorry ass to end in trouble.

The men grinned at him, seemingly satisfied with the result of their actions.

"This serves as your warning. You better lower your head sigonian trash" one of them said, before they all turned their backs on him and exited the cave. Another one of the men stopped right in front of the entrance and flashed him a toothy smile, waving. He pressed a button, causing a large rumble to erupt from right above the entrance. A cascade of rocks descended loudly, blocking the only exit.

Aventurine sat there stunned. It was clear to him now, that their intent was never really to negotiate, but to hurt him. Either directly or indirectly. If only he had insisted to go alone, you wouldn't have been in his arms progressively going limp. Only god knew what the hell was in the dart you had been shot with, so he quickly pulled it out from your belly, leaving an unhealthy purplish entry wound.

He shifted you in his grip and lowered to the ground with you. He sincerely hoped his phone would work in such a remote place. He fished it from his pocket, quickly typing the password, only to realize the rocks blocked whatever flimsy signal could reach this remote place. There were in fact, no bars in the signal indicator.

"Damn it" he muttered.

"Kakavasha..." He almost jumped out of his own skin at the sound of your voice. Aventurine brought you closer to his chest, your forehead burned against the exposed skin of his neck.

"Yes?" He hesitantly answered.

"It's not your fault" always straight to the point you were, piercing through the ungodly amount of walls he had built and reading past the facade.

"You shouldn't have jumped in front of me" Aventurine replied "what if that was a real gun and not a dart one?"

"And let you...get poisoned...?" Your words were starting to get lower, your gaze struggling to focus on anything.

"Yes! I provoked them! I miscalculated everything!" You could feel his hands shake as he held you.

"So...you must...pay the price...yeah no" you smiled bitterly, although your lips felt numb.

"It should have been my life in the gamble, not yours" he said in a defeated tone "I don't deserve you throwing yours away for me" the last part was muttered, but you heard it nonetheless.

"But you do...and the choice...is mine" you tried to say it as determined as you could muster. If the world was going to shit you would throw it away to save him in a matter of seconds. No questions asked.

The blonde man couldn't utter another word, just as you couldn't convince him to have some self worth, he couldn't convince you to give up on him. You were ride or die and he couldn't change that, maybe that was for the best. You had enough love to love him for himself too.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck and held onto you for dear life, as if it could cure you and you could keep rising next to him in the morning. What would he do if he lost you? He would lose everything once again, because as much as he didn't want to admit it to others, you were his everything.

He was scared, terrified you would draw your last breath any minute now. You didn't seem to be in pain, but you did look miserable. Your breaths were shallow and your skin was burning and covered in sweat as your body shook slightly.

Aventurine could only hope someone would notice you were gone - who would even notice a sigonian was missing? Maybe Topaz? - and come looking for you. At least he had had the good sense to leave your meeting location with Topaz.

He waited and waited, watching you slip away as the time passed. You had long lost consciousness and he could barely feel your shallow breaths against his neck.

"Please don't go..." He pleaded, eyes burning.

Your body felt numb, with a weird fuzziness in the background. It was similar to those old cathodic tube screens when no signal was available. A new type of 'annoying' you wished you hadn't learned existed.

With a bit of effort you managed to open your eyes and you were met with an unfamiliar room, dimly lit. It had white walls and some cabinets against the wall in front of you. To your left was a window with blinds obscured but you could see some light spill through the cracks. On the same side, right next to the bed were an IV bag (that you quickly realized was stuck in your arm) and a bunch of monitors beeping along with your heartbeat. Finally your eyes landed to your right, where Aventurine sat on a chair. He was leaning on the mattress of the bed you were on, head on his arms, hair completely disheveled shooting in every direction. Contrary to what one would expect from being in such a position, he was fast asleep. Even when you scooted a bit to sit up he didn't move an inch, which would have been normal if you were to be at home, but the room liked like one from a private hospital. To be this heavily asleep he must have been exhausted.

You reached your hand and gently smoothed over the rebellious locks, before switching to bushing your fingers through them as delicately as you could as to not wake him.

This was a rare sight, making you equal parts upset that you had caused it and in awe at the display of vulnerability. Most of the time he was wide awake before you so this was one of the few times you were able to watch him sleep.

The door opened slowly, revealing Topaz poking her head in. You smiled, waved at her followed by a quick gesture to keep quiet then pointing to your sleeping boyfriend.

She nodded and fully entered the room, closing the door behind her right after.

"How are you feeling?" She whispered once she was standing at your left, eyeing curiously Aventurine.

"Weird. Fuzzy?" You attempted, keeping your voice low. Which wasn't that hard because your throat was dry as hell so you couldn't talk as loud even if you tried.

"Yeah, we were told to expect something like this. The poison they used on you progressively numbs the body. We were lucky you were still breathing when I finally got to you two" she explained.

"I remember the dart. What happened after?" You asked, still petting Aventurine's hair.

"I don't know the details, but I found you two stuck in a cave and Aventurine was clutching onto you for dear life" Topaz said "I don't think I've ever seen him that terrified.

You frowned, knowing what you did, it was not hard to deduce his line of thought. He had lost so much and he had almost lost you.

If you hadn't jumped in front of him, it would have been him in your conditions and you couldn't bear the thought of that either.

"What did you guys end up doing with those 'clients'?"

"You mean the ones you two were meeting?" You hummed in response "I have no idea, Aven dealt with them a few days ago"

"Wait- a few days ago? How long have I been aslep??"

"About a week. I have never seen him leave this room more than a few minutes" she pointed to the man, who was still blissfully unaware. No wonder he was sleeping like a log.

Suddenly her phone started ringing and both of you cringed at the loud sound. Topaz quickly answered it and bolted out of the room.

The loud ringtone seemed to have been enough to disturb your boyfriend's sleep, as he let out a raspy groan in protest. You brushed his bangs away from his face and that got his attention. His head shot up, meeting your soft gaze and endearing smile.

"Y/n?" He asked, as if he couldn't believe you were there.

"Yes baby, I came back to you" he barely let you finish speaking before he bolted out of the chair to engulf you into an emotionally charged hug, a hand behind your shoulders and the other buried in your hair at the base of your neck.

"...I thought I had lost you for good" he muttered shakily "you wouldn't wake up..."

"I'm sorry to have worried you so much" you frowned, the conflictint feelings coming back full force.

"But you're going to do it again, aren't you?" He said it in a tone that was half amused and half utterly exasperated.

"Without a second thought. As much as you refuse to believe it, to me you're the world" you replied, gently prying him away from you to look at his face. You cupped his cheeks and watched intently as if you were trying to commit every detail to memory. Aventurine was simply lost in your eyes as you did, thinking of how a few hours ago he had thought he would never see them again.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, which he welcomed readily.

"Baby, you are so pale" you said, worried.

"Am I?" He cocked his head slightly "I haven't slept a wink aside from before" he chuckled, but it sounded tired. Now that he knew you were going to be okay the exhaustion was starting to take over once again.

"Why don't you cuddle with me? You can sleep and hold onto me, I won't go anywere" you smiled softly at him as you pulled him down onto the mattress with you. It didn't really take that much coaxing and soon he had his face buried into your plump chest as he held you from your middle.

"I love you" he muttered before falling asleep.

"I love you too"

[ahgasegotarmy116]

He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter One

Summary: Life didn't turn out the way you wanted. You got the guy, and the job but everything else you had ever wanted has been crumbling around you. Pairing: Noona reader x Jeon Jungkook (She's 28 and he's 22) Word Count: 2.1k~ Warnings: yändere, manipulation, domestic violence, self harm, cheating, explicit language, hints at smut, angst, idk what else lol a/n: Ahh thank you so much for all of the love so far on the intro and even all the notes on the masterlist hehe. I'm really loving the direction this story is going in so I hope you guys will too! And thanks again to @kkusadmirer for the request!

Opening my laptop I pull up the most recent edit I had done on the next chapter I was working on. 

I'm a writer, not an incredibly famous one but a writer nonetheless. I make enough to get by and I'm able to work from home so that's all I ever really wanted. Just a silly girl, writing her silly stories, living her silly life. 

But unfortunately things don't always turn out the way you want them to. 

I thought I had it all, perfect grades and a perfect boyfriend with a loving family and a bright bright future. Now looking back at it all and seeing all of the stuff in the background that I somehow missed just makes me feel foolish.

How could I not notice Taehyung wondering eye? Why did I not listen to what my friends used to say about him? Why did I leave all of my friends behind for him? 

Being so wrapped up and so in love with him I didn't even notice the fact that my family was falling apart. My mom cheated on my dad and I never knew until they told me they were getting a divorce.

While my brother was struggling in high school while being around all of their screaming and fighting and finally got committed to a mental institution when he had a psychotic break.

I never knew anything about that. It's not like I didn't care, but I just never really reached out or gave them enough time to reach out to me. 

I was always like 'Oh Tae just got home I have to go' or 'Tae is expecting me so I need to get going'. My world has revolved around him for so long that my family and friends feel like strangers. 

How could I have been so stupid and neglected them, all for one guy?

The one that I wanted to build a future with and promised to do the same with me. Now here I am, 24 with student loans up to my neck and a sorry excuse for a marriage with a husband that is never home. 

I don't know what I managed to do in my past life that ended up royally fucking me up in this one but I'm sorry. Why couldn't I have done better so I would be saved from having my spirit broken and my heart ripped to shreds. 

The only positive thing is that this has given me is the inspiration to come up with an even more fucked up series of books that has been my only source of income for the past few years. 

Years, wow. 

Thinking about how much time has passed and how things went to shit so quickly helped me continue down this downward spiral and I don't know how to make it stop. Although the sound of keys jingling outside the front door is my rude awakening, my brain knowing I need to be conscious of what may happen next.

 I quickly wipe off the tears that I didn't even realized had started to fall and clear my throat. Moments later I'm met with the sight of Taehyung walking in wearing the same shirt I had seen him in yesterday but sports a brand new hickey near the collar, just barely noticeable but he makes no effort to hide it. 

"Y/n" I hear him call out, breaking me out of my train of thought. "Yes?" I question, hating that I've been caught off guard even though I was staring right at him. "I asked if we have anything to eat" he says, making his way over to the refrigerator, now going to see if he can answer his own question before I'm even given another second to speak up. 

"Um yeah I think there's some left over pizza from last night" I say and get up to walk towards him. "So how was work yesterday?" I ask tentatively, still not sure what kind of mood he's in. "Exhausting but it is what it is I guess" he says while stuffing his face full of a cold slice of pepperoni pizza. 

I turn to walk away while nodding my head, not bothering to ask anything else since it seems from his vague answers that he's not in the mood to talk. 

"Hey" he says, gently grabbing my wrist with the hand that wasn't occupied with the pizza, leaving me frozen in place. I know better than to walk away from him. Even if he's not mad at the moment doesn't mean that he won't be in the next. 

"Where are you running off to?" he asks pulling me close by that same wrist. Still doing so carefully but pressing on the bruises that he had left there from the last fight we had. 

He sees my slight look of discomfort and how my vision is trained on the wrist he's still holding and rolls up my sleeve, taking a quick look and seeing the evidence of his past transgressions.

"It left a mark huh?" he says examining the spot further and then bringing it up to his face where he places a few featherlight kisses on it, making a flash of heat run through my system when he looks back up at me with those eyes.

Those bedroom eyes that never fail to put me in a trance. He lifts his hand up towards my face and I flinch not knowing what to expect and see him stopping for a second, surprised by my reaction.

"Don't be afraid baby, it's just me" he says and keeps going, hooking his finger on the collar of my turtleneck to pull it to the side, no doubt searching for other marks. 

"There's marks here too. I guess it's a good thing you stay home. Don't want to have to make up excuses for those now would you?" he says tapping under my chin twice, a slight lilt in his tone, enjoying my clear discomfort in showing them to someone, even if it's the person that's caused them.

"What did you do today baby?" he asks, letting go of me and going back to grab a few other things out of the fridge to complete his meal. "Oh you know, just some writing" I say, trailing off and giving him the same answer that I've given him time and time again. 

"You almost done with it?" he questions, only really asking so he knows when my next big payday will be. 

I shake my head "No, not yet. I think I'm only about halfway though" I say, giving simple answers to his simple questions. "Well you better get it out soon. I bet your readers are dying to know what happens next" he says giving me a quick wink before taking everything he has in his hands and carrying it over to the couch. 

"Do you think you could grab me a beer?" he asks, but I know it's more of a courtesy than anything phrasing it like I actually had an option. I respond with a quiet yeah and bring it over to him, placing it on the coffee table. 

"Thanks babe" he says and grabs a ahold of my hand and angles his head up, clearly asking for a kiss to which I oblige. Again something I don't really have an option in doing. "I missed you" he says and rubs his nose against mine cutely, or at least it used to be cute. Now it just makes me sad thinking of all of those times when we were happy.

"Are you gonna watch the game with me?" this time giving me something that I actually have a choice in. "I think I've got some more writing I'd like to do" I say and he nods his head not even bothering to look at me or give me a verbal sign of acknowledgment before turning on said game and slumping back into the couch to watch. 

I walk over to my desk that happens to unfortunately be in the living room so I'm forced to grab my headphones to drown out the sound so I can hopefully get another chapter or two in before I call it a night. 

~~~~~~

"Baby" I hear him call for me through my headphones after some time, that's something that I've had to fine tune. Making sure I can hear him when he talks to me no matter what so it's one less thing I have to worry about him getting upset about. 

I pull out my headphones and turn my attention towards him, half expecting him to ask me to get him a beer. "Yes?" I reply, waiting to see what he needs. "Come here" he says holding his hand out to me and spreading his legs, showing me where he wants me. 

I get up and walk towards him, straddling him once I get close enough and putting my arms around his neck. "Hi" he says in a deep voice sending a shockwave through my nervous system. "Hi" I respond quietly, intimidated at the thought of what he might do next. "How was the game?" I ask tentatively, hoping for my own sake that there was a favorable result. 

"We won" he says, mindlessly tracing his hands up and down my curves. "How's your book?" he asks leaning into my neck, placing kisses over the bruises he had noticed from before. "

It's going" I whisper, starting to feel breathless from his warm breath fanning the sensitive parts of my skin. "Ready for a break?" he asks, question laced with a mischievous tone. I hum in acknowledgment, tilting my head to the side so he can have his fun.

~~~~~~

"I'm gonna head out but I'll be back later" Taehyung says while getting dressed with me still laying there with only a sheet to cover my body. "You're leaving?" I question, knowing he just said that but hoping he'll give me some sort of explanation.

"The guys wanted to meet up for a couple of drinks to talk about the game. Get some rest okay? I'll be back in a few hours" he says planting a soft kiss on my lips and one on my forehead. 

I nod as he pulls the comforter over me as well, starting to already to drift off to sleep. "Stay safe" I mumble and flip over to the other side to try and get more comfortable.

He looks down at me for a second and chuckles at my fucked out and sleepy state before walking out of our bedroom and soon I'm left with the sound of him closing and locking the door behind him. 

Although this night was bittersweet I'm thankful that it ended up like this. He's not a selfish lover when it comes to sex so I'm always left sleepy and satisfied except for the times that he's more rough, rough is putting it lightly so I guess I should say when he's more violent. 

I hate thinking about those nights and I refuse to let those dark thoughts cloud this physical euphoric feeling I have but I can't help but worry about what he might actually be going out to do.

 Would having a drink with the guys really make him want to leave his naked and freshly fucked wife alone in his bed? I just don't get it. If he's already been with me tonight could there be a possibility that he would wake up in another woman's bed and leave me waking up alone again tomorrow?

There's no use worrying about it though. It's not like it hasn't happened before, but why do I always let it get to me? Yes he's my husband but our marriage isn't like other ones in anyway shape or form. I'm here when he wants or needs me and that's it. I'm not allowed to want or need him because I'm just left disappointed every single time.

He doesn't love me, he just loves what I can give him and I need to come to terms with that. But it's nights like these where he's gentle and whispers sweet nothings in my ear that make me second guess things. 

Maybe he's changed? Maybe he's realized what actually matters? And maybe I'm just getting my hopes up. I can't keep lying to myself but I don't know what else to do. I feel alone most days but these little glimmers of hope are what keep me holding on and unfortunately that's all I have left. 

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[satorubrain]

heyy, i saw you asking for gojo requests 👉🏼👈🏼

can i request a very fluffy domestic husband gojo i don’t really have anything else in mind so please feel free for the rest 🫶🏼

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Reader.

Tags: FLUFF

Synopsis: He's a silly babie having sillier thoughts

A/N: HUSBAND SATORU WOULD BE SO CHEESY ME THINKS. ALSO I HOPE U LIKE THIS!!!

You were fast asleep, for the most part at least but you were way too tired to get out of bed and see what Satoru has been doing for the past two hours.

For the past two hours, you've been hearing the clicking and clacking of things, doors being opened and closed every short interval. You were just so thankful you've gained the ability to sleep through whatever chaos satoru causes- he can even ask you nonsensical questions and you're capable of answering him through your slumber.

You wake up an hour later and find the house to be so silent. Eerily silent. You know he's safe or at least alive by sensing his cursed energy. Thinking it's always better to get ready for the day before even thinking of facing your dear husband. Especially now, you know something is up.

"Sato-" Your eyes widen when you see him, your husband, one of the strongest sorcerers of the era on his knees, looking sorry. You expected a prank, a joke, something random but not whatever this is.

Before you could recover from your shock he gets on his one knee, grabbing your hands "I'm so sorry for always annoying you and creating troubles but please don't leave me" he pleads.

"WHAT??? Wait wait- who's leaving you? What is happening?" You question him, bewildered by his strange yet worrisome actions, nose scrunched with your head tilted.

"...you?" he feared.

"why would i leave- wait did you.... did you cheat on me?" you ponder, you know he wouldnt but the heart aches even at the thought of it.

"WHAT?! NO I WOULD NEVER. WHY DID YOU EVEN THINK OF THAT??????" he was dumbfounded and quite hurt as well.

"then why would I leave you??"

"because you told me you'll leave me"

"I NEVER SAID THAT and i love you too much for that Satoru" You confessed cupping his cheeks, eliciting a shy giggle from him.

But he returns to the main topic pretty quickly and now you're both stuck in a weird questionable situation. Finally, he decides to explain how he interrogated the sleepy you and asked you all the wrong questions. Of course you said yes when he asked "would you leave me tomorrow when you wake up for always annoying you?" leading to the current scenario.

Though you had the magical ability to sleep through things but there was a major drawback- you would say yes to everything when being questioned.

You sigh as you pull him into your arms "My love, my dear husband of three years please do not worry about my unfortunate habit of saying yes to everything in sleep and me going anywhere." you pause, taking his hand in yours before placing a gentle kiss on the wedding ring while looking at him "i fear I love you too much to even leave you after death" you chuckle.

He pulls you in his arms tightly, causing the both of you to fall on the ground as his laughter echoes through the rooms "sigh, see at you making me worry for absolutely no reason! That is very bitter to do so, my kikufuku!!" he complains contradictory to the grin on his face.

"But nonetheless, let me treat my sweet wife like she deserves to be." He announces, making the rest of your time, his.

The rest of your day goes pretty well with him having breakfast with you where he insisted you both feed each other, as according to him, it helps make the couple love each other more. Him cleaning the dishes before settling on the couch which was surrounded by your favorite flowers where you both went through the special, as he called it, the special married couple skincare routine before the both of you painted each other's nails. Ordering the food through online services as you both binged your recent favorite series, intensely discussing the plot.

It was a perfect stay-in date, the one you both desperately needed to recharge from the exhausting lifestyle you both lead.

"soooo.... tomorrow even if you say yes to your most hated food, I shouldn't make it right?" Satoru questioned, his voice laced with mischief.

"Yes thank you. I mean yeah please don't make it" you doubly clarify so you prove that you're awake, causing the both of you to laugh.

[REQUESTS ARE OPEN]

[MASTERLIST]

[fromdarzaitoleeza]

Ahh it's the last day of 2023 already?

I am expecting a call from a friend although the possibility of this happening is very slim it always felt nice to hear the voice of an old friend ( I'm not a text person I've realised this over time but I am stuck to be a text person) .

I can't wait for spring to come in 2024 , spring provides an intense amount of healing to my soul.

The next four months are very crucial in my life if they go well I can survive the rest of the year, I have died a couple of times this year and I am amazed that I am alive i didn't honestly thought i would make it to the end of this year ( especially in the last 3 months , I badly needed help but i didn't wanted others to pity me so i spoke to none about it ) anyways I don't want to talk about it , i don't want to make it sound blue than it already is,a i am really sorry about the fact all my posts are blue I sincerely wish it wasn't that way( altho i haven't posted anything here with as much as devotion I use to do , partly cuz i created an Instagram acc but that's not all reason I ve been sad nonetheless) and sorry for all the "anon/asks" that i haven't answered

I have made no achievements this year and there is little to no progress towards my self love or self growth, but I think that's okay I can do it in the upcoming year, time flies so quick i can't believe Its been so many years since I was 16 I miss being 16 honestly I had more in me back then than i have now , i have lost of confidence my vision and my smile over the years it's as if I am very different person now , i certainly wish I wasn't this way i really thought i would be so much more and better in my early 20s but it is what it is , acceptance is haredest of all emotions in my opinion , you know things are harder to accept when you know you could have done better .

Just like in the last 2 years even this year I didn't make any real life friends with whom I can hang out with i think it's partly due to the fact some people are destined to be alone and I am afraid to admit I am one of them , I did make 2 online friends this year .

I don't want to share any life lessons i learnt this year but if there is something i would love to share is choose yourself one more time each time you feel it's the last time you are doing it , choose one more time to live,one more time to hope, one more time to have faith , one more time to start again [ the fact I am the one telling you this is rediciculosly funny ] .

Unlike most people i don't have a lot of goals for the new year I just got things i want to avoid ( idk if that's the same thing?) Avoid my leftover heart's heartbreak, avoiding what takes away my peace, avoiding what can cause me discomfort, avoiding things that make me question myself ( in any negative way) ,i think that's a little too much but that's it .

As I was writing this Google photos sent me a notification saying " 3 years back today with a photo of mine " and it broke my heart a little, now I am questioning myself how did i let so much happen to me , I wish I treated certain things as the last time instead of always stupidly believing in future ( my worse trait yes).

There is a lot to say as always, i wonder if I open my mouth i would never stop sharing things that go inside my mind , but i also know there is no use of it if i can't find people who can understand it , maybe that's how I end up ranting here .

Not to mention I love people who are patient, i believe in the near future i would only like to talk with people who could be patient with me and with my silence . I believe everyone deserves people who can be patient with them .

Nothing really matters in the end but at the same time everything you do matters ❤️‍🩹

[stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland]

Dear Stuck, I hope you are doing well. Although I have never written on here and plan on doing so more, I'd like to thank you for all the work you've put into keeping this ship alive and supporting the girls both individually and together. You are one of the few people that stayed behind after everything that happened and for that I am grateful. In our eyes, Camren is just a love between two beautiful girls that are constantly being forced apart by forces greater than them. Their will to keep on fighting for that feeling that they first felt at 17 (yes, Used to this is THE Camren anthem to me) gives me so much hope for their future. As a young queer girl, they were the first couple that I encountered that I found a home in. Their love gave me courage to come out and say the things that I kept guarded in my heart for so long and for that I am forever grateful. Nonetheless, apart from expressing my deepest gratitudes to you and this incredible fandom, I'd like to say that I encountered something interesting the other day that I have never seen, in the 8 years that I have been in this fandom.

It's a radio interview from Ryan Seacrest, recorded around the time when 7/27 was released. The thing that intrigued me is that only Camila and Lauren are interviewed by him and although it is quite short, it made my heart soar when I saw it. Have you ever seen this? And I am very curious as to why only C and L were interviewed when the other girls (or what sounded like them) could be heard in the background. I am obviously aware that industry people knew of Camren, but it came as a bit of surprise that Ryan knew, as well. Here's the link to the interview: https://youtu.be/X_K8_lQafhM?feature=shared

As you can imagine, hearing them being interviewed on their own made me so emotional and gave me a tiny glimpse into their potential future as a free couple, a future that they deserve to have after everything they have been through. As a last question before I end this longer post than expected, do you think that they are still together?

I hope that you'll have an amazing day Stuck and to all my dear fellow Camren shippers, do not forget to keep the boat afloat! Sending much love to everyone.

Hey buddy! First of all, thank you for your kind words. I don't really feel like I deserve them because one: I'm not as active on CamrenLand anymore and two: I totally distanced myself from Lauren as a fan. I don't follow her anymore, but I still like Camren. I think that just like you, this fandom has filled my life a lot, especially because of the people I've met. Some are very good, others not so much. But they've been there and that's appreciated. I'm so happy for you, buddy. To know that the girls' love, as cute and chaotic as it has been, has helped you and other fans have the courage to come out of the closet. It's an achievement, not only for the girls, Lauren and Camila, but for yourself. That courage was always inside you, you just needed a little push and Camren gave it to you. It's amazing and really gratifying to know that they did help.

As for the interview, it's the first time I've listened to it and it's been great to do so. I didn't know her but I loved it. I didn't know how much I missed hearing the girls talk until now. They were always a good team in interviews. Whether it was making jokes or supporting each other when needed. The times Lauren defended Camila from the mockery of the interviewers I always found it very loving.

I don't know if the girls are still together, I hope they are. If they're not together, I've always wanted them to be happy with whoever they choose and now Camila... well, no. I'm not going to talk about this in your answer, buddy. Maybe later.

Thank you very much once again for your nice comments, and I hope you do well in life and with your loved ones ❤️ . Be safe, buddy.

[eldritch-spouse]

[Part 2 to this post. Fem reader.]

Previous poll winner: Santi (61,7% after a tie-breaker with Sybastian)

TW: Dubious consent; Altered states of mind.

New choice! [VOTE]

You don't know his name, but you know he's the one you're picking. Maybe to your own detriment, but right now, you're trusting your gut. A shaky finger rises and points towards the demon.

" Him... "

His face brightens, a decidedly jovial, almost childish look on it, before it's immediately replaced with a smug, suave air. As if he expected you to pick him. Did he really though?

The whole room is filled with disappointed sighs, some of the monsters being more vocal about their distaste.

" It takes one slut to know another, no wonder she picked him... " The living doll snarks.

" Fool. "

" Of course, why am I surprised? "

" Heinous choice, maybe she really does deserve this. "

Although some sting your ego, you stand by your decision. He looks safe. Well, safer. That's about as low as the bar gets, but you're in no position to argue.

Said demon claps and laughs heartily at everyone's bitterness. " It sucks to suck. " He shrugs, ever smug as he closes in on you. " Great eye there, sweetheart. Now, why don't we get out of here, hm? "

There's no explanation for it except natural, biological demon fuckery, but his voice is velveteen enough to put you at ease. Or maybe it's just his casual quips, as if you aren't in a very life-threatening situation. In fact, now that you really think about it, there's only one type of demon he could be. Initially, you weren't very sure. A panicking brain told you he was wrathful purely because of his size, then his wording made you think of pride, but now? With him hovering mere centimeters away from your face? This fiend can only be from Lust. You mentally smack yourself for not realizing it immediately. The innuendo, his figure, the way he moves... Idiot.

Well, looking at the brightside, at least he's not likely to maul you in a fit of rage. Or eat you alive. That's... Better than nothing.

You must have spent some amount of time scrutinizing the monster, because he makes a quiet chuckle, prompting you to answer his question with a nod, avoiding those beautiful eyes. Unable to stand like this, and starting to feel very sore in all honesty, you aren't too shocked when he elects to pick you up. You'd ask to he untied, but that would just about destroy any ounce of modesty you're desperately clinging to right now.

He's strong. Most monsters are in comparison to humans, but you get the feeling he's not exerting much effort to lift you off the ground in a princess carry. Nonetheless, you still tense and squirm, knowing you can't really grab him for balance. He's undoubtedly warm, like a heater, a nice blanket in a rainy evening, smooth and comforting. This close to the monster's admittedly massive chest, you eye his piercings curiously and miss the way he sends his coworkers smarmy winks before using his tail to call the elevator.

It arrives with a pleasant ding, and the murmurs of disappointment are left behind once the yellowed metal doors close behind you two, some tension seeps off you. Only a little, you're still in a stranger's arms. Strong arms in fact, you can't get over that, can't get over how weirdly sweet he smells up close. Is it just you or he looks prettier under this light?

There's something so beautiful about him. You like the shape of his horns and those two rings pierced onto the right one. His face, although pale as chalk, is angular and handsome, a blend of blatantly masculine and feminine features mixing very well. Fascinated hues can't help fix onto those dark lips. It can't be lipstick, can it? It looks natural. Speaking of, you have no idea if he's wearing eyeshadow and eyeliner at all either... Could it be that demons of Lust are all this gorgeous naturally? Or is it just him specifically? In a sea of magenta, sharp green irises shift, a dim green glow emitting from them, casting a soft light. It takes you embarrassingly long to realize you're ogling, and that he's caught on minutes ago.

The way he stares back placidly, so very used to this attention most likely, has you instantly flushing and looking elsewhere, feeling stupid and fluttering at the sound of his laughing rumble.

" Uh- What's your name? " You stress, wanting to move on from that embarrassing moment.

He hums, readjusting to clutch you tighter to himself. The hand that grasped at your knees now grabs a handful of your upper thighs, the ensuing shudder as claws prick your skin is helpless. " I go by Santi, darling. " He offers.

Santi... Like there's anything saintly about this fucker. Better that than something you can't pronounce. The elevator is moving, you can feel it. When did he press a button? Where are you going?

" Santi. " You begin, getting his attention quickly. His smile broadens, apparently liking the sound of his name in your voice. " Where am I? "

The demon inhales, looking this way and that, machinating an answer. The look on his face tells you to take what he says with a grain of salt. " This is... An entertainment establishment, you could say. I work here. "

So this is a fancy haunted whore house? Great. He must have noticed the thousand yard stare that crossed over your features, because he makes a quiet snort.

" Don't worry, no one will dare to try anything with me around. "

Honestly, you doubt that a little. Yes, he's big and powerful looking, but so was that large blue monster, and that one in the cloak. What if there's bigger ones than Santi who aren't willing to play nice? What if someone else decides they want the human tied like a present?! You'll never be safe here. You need to make it out as soon as possible. This one looks so calm, and demons are creatures of exchange -Even if often unfair- So you might be able to convince this one to let you go, with enough effort.

A beat of silence passes. The fact that the elevator just keeps on going is irking you. How many floors are there on this dump? Shifting around in Santi's grip, you find a wall practically covered in buttons. Good lord, what the fuck. There's no way that's all stuffed in this weird building.

" Hey uhm... " You try to smile, a wobbling look. " Can we make a deal? I know this isn't usually how it's done for your kind, but I really need to leave. " Masterfully worded, very persuasive.

Santi's brows rise, he gives you this incredulous "really now?" look, and his fingers drum on your arm. " Mm, a deal you say? "

You don't like how intense his look is. " Y-Yes. "

" And, hypothetically, what would you be willing to trade for such? "

Good question.

Well, you know what type of demon he is, so there's probably only one type of offering he wants, the carnal type. You think quietly for a moment... One sex act for freedom. Not the worst that can happen, right? Not ideal either, but from everyone you've seen so far, this monster is one of the most attractive, it would be easier for you to get into it. To accept.

" Uhm- I can... I'll let you f-feed on me? " Your cheeks burn. " I won't struggle, whatever you want- I'm not too experienced but I'll do my best. "

Santi lets out a sharp exhale, something that reminds you of a steaming kettle. When you have the nerve to look back at his face, his eyes are lidded and he licks his sharpened teeth with gusto. A rumbling purr echoes across the large elevator, like your lackluster answer somehow really pleased him. Baffling.

" How generous of you, my sweet vixen. " He finally replies, head dipping to nuzzle slightly at your disheveled hair. He places a kiss there and you balk inwardly... Are all incubi this affectionate? Or is this just part of the game for him? You don't have much contact with his kind, all things considered. His next words are soul-crushing. " I don't think I can take you up on that offer however. "

" Buh- But! There's- "

You're interrupted.

" But nothing, sweetheart. " He tuts. " Don't give me that sad look, I'm doing this for your own good. " The glare you give him in return is ignored. " You wouldn't make it out there. Today's a big day, our guests will be arriving soon, you don't want to get caught by some opportunistic scum right as you think you're safe, hm? "

What the demon says gives you pause. Big day, big day, they keep saying that. What does it mean? Whatever, it doesn't matter. He's clearly not letting you go anytime soon, and pushing the topic is probably not going to help you in the long run.

" So... Where are you taking me? "

" In that state? " Santi shakes his head. " Nowhere dear. "

You don't get to stew in the confusing answer for long, because as soon as he speaks, the doors to the elevator part, and you're in a whole new sections of the building you've yet to see. A long, purple-ish hall seems to spread out infinitely, doors upon doors facing each other on each side, each one with a specific number. Rooms, like a hotel. Is he taking you to his room? Does he live here?

Santi walks out confidently, silent but hasty. Although the hall is mostly silent, you'll occasionally catch a clipped noise or two- Maybe motel is a more apt descriptor. You can't help but pale a couple shades at the insinuation. Well, that's on you for picking the incubus.

You half expect him to stop on door "069", putting aside the fact that it's mindboggling how many doors this place has. This entire structure makes no sense, you have no idea what type of magic you're witnessing. Instead, he halts at "071". You're glad the hall didn't start at "001", otherwise he'd take a small eternity to reach his own room, which is hilarious honestly.

That small moment of humor just about perishes as soon as the door is opened. You note, with no small amount of skepticism, that he purely turned the knob. Why does he leave his door open, isn't he worried about his personal belongings getting stolen? The room itself is heavy on the eyes, all deep scarlets, blacks and the occasional pink. Luxurious, it definitely sets the mood he's going for- Intimate. You get glimpses of shelves above the bed and on other walls, furnished with what you can only call an almost enviable collection of toys.

" How do you like my little corner, love? " Santi suddenly asks, jolting you.

" Ah- Well, it's uh... Pretty. " Yes, let's leave it at that. " Do you live here, in this place? "

The monster snickers. " Oh no no, this is just where I usually take my clients. "

" Oh. "

Before you know it, you're being gently laid onto that large king-sized bed, shaking at the sight of him essentially on top of you. It's- It's just going to happen? Like this? So soon? You barely learned his name, you're not ready to just be touched like this, no way-

" Hey... Hey now. " Dark fingers snap in front of your hazy eyes, halting the motions of panic for a second. You gulp. " Deep breaths, baby, I just want to get you out of that wrapping. Aren't you sore? "

Naturally, of course you are. A warm hand brushes over your cheek, thumb tracing circles on it. Somehow, in some way, the contact makes you calm down, nodding slightly. " That's what I thought. Lay down, I'll be quick. "

Doing as told, you focus on the mahogany ceiling, trying not to think about the fact that you'll be bare to him. Calm down, he's probably seen so many bodies in his lifetime, you're nothing special to him. He won't even care. Although the demon could easily use a claw to shred the wrapping around your figure, he gingerly takes one end of the bow and pulls- Slow, deliberate, giving himself a show. Your breasts are the first part of you to be revealed, nipples perked from the chill of being cold and exposed. He's silent, but something else whooshes around, presumably that thick tail. When he grabs your upper body to remove the fabric trapped beneath, you swear those fingers spread across your skin purposely, claw tracing the rim of your buttons. For a hellspawn, his expression is almost saintly as he does this.

You're twisted and turned like a prized toy while he goes about untangling you, squirming slightly from the stimulus. You wish he'd hurry the fuck up, but he has slowed even more now that he's about to uncover your pussy, lifting your leg against him. The jovial humming doesn't help. Your eyes shut as soon as cold air is felt against your genitals, you don't know what face he's making when he pauses, nor do you feel brave enough to peek. You hope you aren't visibly wet, the mere fact you have to worry about it is embarrassing. Eventually however, he resumes, lowering said limb and ridding you of the material entirely, leaving you free on his silken sheets.

" There we are, my present unwrapped. " Santi jokes.

Although your body begs you to stretch, you cover yourself instead, earning a laugh from the male.

" Come now, don't hide, it's a gorgeous view. " He's not helping, especially not when he keeps wetting his teeth. " In any case, I assume you'd like to shower? "

Oh yes, yes you would. " Yes, please. "

Santi's eyelid twitches for a second. Weird. He recovers quickly, standing, offering you a hand with a grin. It takes a couple or resigned seconds before you cease covering yourself and take it, being led to a door you had entirely missed amidst your cursory glance at the room. Predictably, it hides only a fairly standard bathroom, keeping the theme of the room by being mostly black and sleek in design. The shower is modern-looking and open. There are several rails around. Somehow, you don't think all of those are for towels.

" You'll have to excuse me, love. Most of the products I have here are neutral. " And, sure enough, he's right. You don't recognize most of the brands at all.

" Uhm, thank you. " You scratch nervously at your arm, but it feels like that's the right thing to say here.

He didn't need to do this for you. While you're still very skeptical, fact of the matter is Santi brought you to a room where hopefully no one else will enter, got rid of your binds, and is now offering you a place to clean yourself. He's being... Kind, all things considered. Not kind enough to let you leave, but mildly considerate.

A hint of color graces those pallid cheeks. " Oh don't mention it, go ahead. " Your hair is ruffled playfully.

Momentarily on auto-pilot, you climb under the large shower head and are about to turn it on, when instinct tells you to pause. Eyes find the hues still glued to you. Santi hasn't moved a muscle. The incubus frowns when you start shrinking into yourself again.

" Is something wrong? " He says, like this is the most natural thing in the world.

" N-No, I- "

" If you don't want to shower, that's all right- "

" No no, I do! "

He tilts his head. " Then don't let me stop you. "

You blink. Oh, so this is the game he's playing. Alright, it's clear he's not leaving, you're just going to have to shower in front of him. Could be worse. Sighing, and turning around in spite of survival instincts, you turn the faucet on and wait for the water to be warm enough to slip under. The wave of warmth is comforting, reassuring, making you forget about where you are momentarily. As if cleaning yourself from the grime of that garden and the floor has somehow transported you home, to safety. You're reaching for the shampoo when a harsh shiver crawls up your spine. Something's wrong.

A shadow casts itself over you, and soon, the water stops hitting you altogether. You've never gotten goosebumps so quickly in your life before.

A chuckle sounds from above, way too close. " Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to steal the warmth for myself. " Suddenly, a broad arm coils over your front, dragging you flushed against a sturdy body. Rigid as a plank, you can only shudder and gasp.

" Wh- Why are you...? "

" You don't mind if I shower too, right dear? "

If that isn't the lousiest excuse then you have no idea what else could be. You're not exactly in a position to demand he leave his own shower however, and frankly, keeping yourself in this one's good graces is a good idea, so you only shake your head, trying to focus on your hair.

Not for long. It's hard to ignore him so close to you, especially when his hands find purchase on your hips, and he blankets you like a lazy, purring cat. There's no ignoring things when both those paws start trailing different paths, one upwards to your right tit, and the other trailing to your mons.

" S-Santi please- "

Your squirming is easily quelled with a tighter grip. " Shh- " He kisses at the back of your neck, licking the length of it in a way that causes you to shudder hard and your toes to curl slightly. It's a simple act, but somehow, it's having a much larger effect on you than it should. " I know, you're stressed, you've been through a lot today already, I just want to help you relax... "

Finally, his fingers glide over your pussy, and you know he can feel the arousal pooled there. Hell, he was probably able to smell it as soon as he laid you on that bed. He pats at you playfully for a second, rolling a nipple with his other hand, before grinding fat digits over your clit. Cornered, not really knowing what to do with yourself, you hang onto the rail in front of you while your legs tremble and squeeze around his expert fingers. Santi's not being slow and gentle about it, knowing exactly how to roll that bud to get you arching in pleasure.

When you lean back onto him, spine curved, unaware you're even doing such, your mouth opens and you're not quite sure what you want to say- Stop? Don't stop? Harder? Why are you doing this? You're confused, and the only thing that comes out is a whined moan, which has Santi growling in approval. His head dips to catch your parted lips with his, and it's at the first taste of his tongue that you realize...

You're making a big deal out of nothing.

The demon's lips are gentle, coaxing you into moving with him, but ultimately being domineering in the way that muscle leaves no room for yours to steer. There's something indescribably addictive about his taste, you've never had such a good kisser before, purposeful motions seem intent on feeding you more of his drool, copious amounts of it, dripping down your chin. The sloppy embrace paired with his restless motions on your pussy have you moaning high against him. It's Santi's turn to shiver, there's something decidedly large being pressed against your ass, but you can't bring yourself to care anymore. The sparks of an approaching orgasm kill off just about most of your higher brain functions and you only pant against the demon, holding onto his arms, rocking into that merciless hand.

It hits you like a train.

You don't remember the last time you came so hard, from something so simple too. But it feels perfect. Making a noise you barely recognize as yours, you clench hard against nothing and beg senselessly, an insupportable wave of heat settling within you like a roaring fire. Orgasms are supposed to relieve, how come you only feel needier now?! It's hard to think, it's almost as if there's a tint to your vision, everything but him and his body erased from sight and mind.

" Wha- Why-?! " You mumble, whining in confusion. There's something dripping down your thighs, though not for long, as it's collected and cleaned by the demon behind you, before the cascading water could steal it from him.

" What's wrong? " Santi lulls, turning you around while he slurps greedily at the last of his digits. " That didn't help, sweetie? "

Frustrated, you just shake your head and groan, uncomfortable. His gums show for a fraction of a second.

" Really? " Fast nodding. " Oh, that won't do then. Here- " The shower is turned off, and though you shiver, it makes you feel slightly less irritated. " Let's fix that, yes dear? "

There's no hint of skepticism when the monster starts leading you out of the bathroom, still wet and dripping, and lays you back onto his bed. Albeit fogged with discomfort and relentless arousal, you fixate on Santi's form above you. Massive, built, you could just bite into any part of him. He's so hot, you have no idea how you controlled yourself all this time- You'd have ridden him in front of his wackjob friends if you had no self-control. Glazed hues falling, the shape that nudged you before is all too clear now, bobbing between thick black thighs. Something whose sight alone would make a slightly more lucid version of you run for the hills.

Now though? You can't even decide where you want to put it first. Somewhat barbed on the underside and dark in coloration, spotted even, you struggle to understand how he keeps that all in his slit. " Y-... You're huge. "

He barks out a laugh, though recovers quickly, like it's something he gets to hear frequently. Your face is grasped by two hands, soothing circles rubbed over your cheeks while your lips are mushed together, maybe just so he can thrill himself. " Mm yeah? Don't worry, you won't feel a pinch, doll. Promise. "

You're not sure how much you buy that, but fact of the matter is you wish he'd do something already, you're burning up! As if listening to your internal cursing, the monster crowds you beneath him, cock gliding teasingly over your folds, never even so much as catching on the rim of your entrance. He doesn't appear to be in a rush, looking down at the show, then grinning wide when you groan and fist the sheets.

" Hurry up already! " You're not going to beg him, that's so filthy. Though some part of you doesn't abhor the idea that much...

" That bad, hm? " He doesn't move a muscle, which has you this close to clawing at him in rage. Entirely amused with your theatrics, Santi lines himself up... And does nothing. You may not be the demon here, but you feel as if you could start crawling walls any moment now.

" F-Fucker! "

" Not my name, but not wrong either. " He jokes. " Wasn't it you who was scared about my size mere moments ago? "

Your response to the jabbing is to take matters into your own hands, scooting forward while he holds himself. It was easier and faster than you expected, his entire length sinks into you far too smoothly, the only sensations registered being a pleasant stretch and the lovely pressure of finally having him inside you. It feels right, it feels perfect, feels like you've been wasting time until this moment. It shouldn't be this easy, you should be yelping with pain, bleeding maybe, what's happening anymore? Ohhh, but then those ridges drag onto something nice and your legs spasm, head thrown back into a feverish moan, doubts cast to the fire of your own libido. Distantly, you can hear him making a similar noise, as if to join you, edging just the smallest bit forth to bury his entire cock to the hilt.

It's impossible. You've never taken anything remotely close to him within yourself. And yet, on the first try, you've welcomed Santi. Even if your hormone-addled mind doesn't fully comprehend how, a wave of pride consumes you. Of raw animal satisfaction. A heavy hand comes down to feel the imprint of his own girth, and you're sure your eyes rolled into your skull for a second as he pressed down.

" Look at that, love- The whole thing. Didn't I promise you it'd be fine? " The male pants. Wherever his fingers glide, a blissful sensation spreads. Your body doesn't know what to do with itself under his influence, clenching and flexing, you're not sure if you'd like to beg him to stop touching or to never take his hands off you. The incubus gazes pensively at your mons, digits tapping, before the contact ceases altogether and the disappointment is so intense you actually tear up. " Oh, you're just the cutest fucking thing. "

He dips closer to you, miraculously managing to not move a muscle in his legs. " I'm glad you picked me, otherwise I might have had to drag you out myself. That wouldn't have been pretty. "

The mental image alone, albeit grotesque, snaps something inside your twisting mind, and you move. With no real technique or guidance, you grind back and forth on his pride, frustrated that he won't fuck you and unwilling to be tortured any longer. It's clumsy, though his slurred, excited expletives only make you work harder, breaking a sweat as you try to find a pace and angle to better fuck yourself on him.

" Ohh ffuck, you like that thought, don't you? " His grin is wolfish. " Me too. Maybe that's what I should have done to begin with. " His voice ghosting around your earlobe is driving you insane. " No one would even care if they found me fucking the brains out of you in that elevator, you know? "

By the way Santi throbs inside you, he should have given in and started rutting into you, it's confusing why he hasn't yet. Though honestly, the suggestions he's tossing at you could make you see stars on their own. " Hhn- W- Why won't you-? "

The demon snorts, a goading digit feathering over your clit every time you sink onto him. " Why won't I... ? "

" Why won't you just fuck me?! " It sounded more like a miserably cry than the yell you meant it to be, which is mildly embarrassing.

" Hah! " The demon cackles, and in those sharp pupils, behind all that charm and dazzle, you find the malice only a fiend of Hell could sport. The mercilessness of his roots. " But you're doing such a good job on your own, darling. It's not everyday I get to savor this kind of desperation. "

When he's arrogant enough to bring his thumb to your parted lips, perhaps hoping you'd suck it for him, you bite instead- A risky move, but risk is the last thing in your mind right now.

The monster grunts, chuffs something incomprehensible, then moves in a blur. The last thing you see are shrunk pupils and scarlet, drool-soaked gums before you're swiped onto your stomach, earning a faceful of wet pillow.

He slams home in a blink, bulldozing past a bundle of nerves that has you crying into said pillow. The weight of the demon on top of you is equal parts suffocating as it is thrilling. You know you're trapped, but it's exactly what you want. Finally, finally, he starts moving, and the crests of pleasure from each plow have your muscles going taught, waves of hot and cold wiping every minuscule bloom of a thought as your second orgasm barrels through your body.

You know you screamed, made some sort of hideous noise, because Santi grips a fistful of your hair so he can see the face you make while you cream yourself hard around his cock. " Fuck yess, there you go, better? Is that better, sweetie? Does it feel good? "

As if the fact you're drooling wasn't enough of an answer. Sweet nothings blur into nothing as you merely nod and grunt. There's another sloppy, rushed kiss shared between you, the demon's erratic pistons making things hard, you end up licking his face in an attempt to fetch his tongue again and the two of you laugh for a brief moment- You've never felt so high.

Unfortunately, much to your chagrin, the relief of your second climax is even shorter than the first one, and you're once again submerged in what feels like twofold the intensity of your arousal. It's horrifying. What's happening? Why won't it stop? Why won't he fuck you harder?

Aware you're sweating bullets but covered in goosebumps, you push your ass up and out against Santi, squeezing around him. He picks up the pace, rocking you, making bestial noises you've never heard from a man before. If this keeps going for much longer, you fear your brain might fry itself to a horny crisp. " Come in me! F-Fucking- Fill me- Do something, Santi please! "

It's hard to tell given he's panting rather loudly, but you think he's breathlessly laughing at your discomfort. You don't think it's funny at all! But then, his spine snaps back straight and he grabs your hips hard enough to feel your bones, you're forcibly drilled onto his cock with a level of strength that has you smiling open-mouthed like a drunk fool, the happiest cocksock in the world. Something wet slaps onto your ass, you can only guess he's drooling. There's a snarl that shakes the walls, or maybe just you, and he seats you on his fat cock for the last time before doing exactly as you requested- Bloating you with cum.

It's hot. Literally hot, his load almost burns inside your cunt, something between tingling and scalding, each rope of it making you shudder hard while a third, less intense orgasm makes your pussy flutter to milk him dry. You fully expect to be taken by another, harsher wave of fucklust, but surprisingly- It never happens. Instead, you just relax more and more, sinking onto crimson silk with a groan as you deflate.

The demon murmurs reassuring words you barely register as he pulls out, petting your oversensitive pussy and peppering kisses against your sweaty back. You feel him bite softly on your neck, chuckling at your fucked out state.

" What a filling meal you've been. " The monster sighs, laying beside you on the mattress and pulling you closer to himself. " I'd fuck you to my last breath. " Maybe that was meant to be romantic, you're not sure. Your face can't possibly heat up more. " But let's not get ahead of ourselves, you need your rest. "

" Close your eyes... I'll be here. "

And, exhausted as you are, sleep comes easily.

He's reading by the time he feels you stir beside him.

You've been conked out for a couple of hours, which makes Santi feel a little bit self-conscious. Maybe he exerted a lot of magic over you, but he wanted to make the most out of his little conquest- And seeing you in a quasi-heat was just so hot... Nonetheless, he knows that took a lot out of your body, and it's his responsibility to make sure you don't fall ill because of it.

Having already cleaned himself up, the demon picked one of the newest best sellers and flipped through chapter after chapter. He wouldn't just leave you here alone while you slumber defenseless, he's not stupid enough for that. His coworkers would try something. Santi's all for sharing a cute piece of ass, on his terms though. Truth be told, he's not paying attention to any of the words on those yellowed pages, he's read this one before, different things conjure in his mind's eye instead.

Mainly, Santi's wondering about how to best spend the rest of the day with you. He already canceled plenty of clients out, something he usually hesitates greatly with- Yet the incubus found it very easy to do this time. You just taste divine, he needs more of your lust, it's so filling even in small doses. You're full of it. Plus, he's very charmed that you willingly wanted to come with him, out of everyone in the team. He knows some of them might have looked friendlier than him, it's endearing that you liked him that much.

Santi almost marked you. Almost. The urge was there, the opportunity was golden, he could have stamped you as his right then and there- But ultimately, he thinks he'd regret doing it so soon. Your fate is unwritten, the incubus isn't too sure what'll be of you once the day is over. What if his higher up decides you're going to the warehouse? Or to be trained by Nebul? Santi needs to be ready to negotiate with Admin when the time comes. And he needs to be ready to face reality, if you're taken from his claws...

Ugh, he's really not looking forward to that. You're an adorable little thing. He can't wait to dress you up and head out to the other floors, flaunt you a little maybe.

Sure, Santi would have liked a wider range of clothes to pick from, certainly something with impeccable quality- But there's only so much he can do while inside The Clergy. He can't leave your side for too long. That's why he had Grimbly bring him discarded clothes from Morell's perished piglets. Out of a sizeable pile of fabrics, Santi salvaged only a loose white blouse, stained with some blood on the hems, and a pair of torn shorts. Less than ideal, but he's sure they'll fit you, and that's what matters.

Honestly, he'd prefer to lead you out naked, but you're in no state for that, at least not anymore. If the demon had suggested that earlier, you probably would have loved the sound of it. Alas, a concubus can dream.

His plan for now is to take you a couple floors down once you wake up, give you a little reward for taking this so well. Speaking of, he might have spaced out for a few minutes there, but he's definitely feeling eyes on him now. Gaze veering right, he finds his little present openly studying him. He can't help the quip that tugs at his dark lips.

" You really know how to make a man feel gorgeous, hm? "

Predictably, you turn away immediately. Santi snickers. " ... Don't flatter yourself. "

Oh, attitude? Good, that's the spirit. Santi claps his book shut and sets it on the bedside table, giving you his full attention. You're no longer wet from the shower, but there's a sheen of sweat on you, marks of his cum on your legs make a gross part of his brain want to clean it himself. Better not let it linger, he can't be tempted to drag you into another round so soon.

" Dear, how about you get an actual shower in, you must be hungry, no? "

Sure enough, you nod, peeling yourself out of the bed with a light sway. Whoops, that's on him. Santi doesn't follow you into the bathroom this time, setting the clothes he retrieved on the edge of the bed. When you come back, drying yourself off with a towel and examining the cloths, you have the intellect not to question where they came from or why there's blood on them. The sight doesn't please you much however, he can tell. The demon almost wants to reach for his slit when you casually dress up in front of him. It seems the more time he spends around you, the more he longs for another hit of your delicious desire.

You're not fast enough to predict the sharp slap across your ass as soon as you're fully dressed, yelping like an animal.

" Good as new, aren't you? " The demon humors. " Ready to be wined and dined? "

You actually giggle at that, making the monster beam subtly. " ... Shouldn't that have been the first step? "

" We do things a bit differently here, love. " He winks. If only you knew just how differently... " Now come, let me spoil you some. "

You appear less skittish around him, following Santi into the same elevator you got here from. Naturally, that changes as soon as you get a glance at the restaurant floor.

Hours have passed since he took you to his room, which means many guests have already poured in, an absurd number actually. The place is crowded enough to grow hot, reminding Santi of Hell. Which is fitting, because today's guests of honor inside The Clergy's Eye are none other than the Lords of Perdition.

It certainly explains the sheer amount of demons in the premises. Santi's good mood drops noticeably as he senses several concubi around. In his territory. Eating his meals. The monster almost snarls as he steps out, grip tight on your wrist, eyes bright in blatant aggression. Others are wise enough to give him a decent berth.

Santi has to tell himself to calm down. Deep breaths, he's here to get you something to eat, not pick fights with vermin.

" S- Santi...? " Your soft voice grounds him some.

You look terrified. And there's more than enough reason for such. Not only is the crowd here very rowdy and prone to violence, several demons brawling and arguing- Others are tossing wounded humans around like party confectionery, which they technically are. The ones moving around linger to glance at you, giving Santi mischievous looks he pointedly ignores. No, he doesn't want to show you off in this type of crowd at all.

" Yes, darling? " A forced smile sits on his lips.

" W... What is that? "

He squints, following the direction in which your finger points, finding a gigantic yellow form amidst the sea of people ahead. A serpentine monster woman lounges in a fancy booth, swallowing plates whole and occasionally scooping lesser demons into her unhinged jaws. Her jovial laughter creates an air of chaos in the floor.

" That would be the Queen of Gluttony, dear. " He casually points out.

Your eyes widen. " A-Am I- Are we- "

" In Hell? " The incubus' grin softens. " Not even close, though tonight, it might as well b- "

" SANTI, IS THAT YOU THERE, MY OLD FRIEND? "

Both of you freeze.

The incubus' heart nearly comes out his throat. There's only one demon who could own that voice. Santi pulls you flush against his side as frantic lime hues scour the entire floor. Behind him, another Icon is seated in an equally lush booth adequate to his size.

Vesper. The King of Lust. His King, technically, before he vowed himself to Krulu.

The Icon of carnality offers the two of you a hungry grin, ever bright pools of magenta fixated on you like the eyes of a hawk. The rest of the crowd blinks at the lust demon, wondering if he's brave enough to ignore of a King of Hell who calls him by name. Of course he's not. Especially not Vesper. There's history between them.

" Wh- Who's that? " You whisper quietly, latched onto his arm. In other circumstances, he'd be very happy to have you glued to him.

" ... The lord of Lust. " He murmurs back between grit teeth, straining a confident grin as he waves at the two-mouthed demonlord.

Vesper's head tendril sways back and forth along with his tail, he shoos his arm candy away and makes a beckoning gesture, eyes now burning onto you. Santi can't help feeling there's something odd about the demonlord's excitement, but he knows he's going to have to approach regardless of his gut feeling.

When he makes to close the distance, the force of your static self halts him. The soles of your bare feet dig into the ground. You look like a deer in the headlights, stuck gawking at the massive pink demon. In a way, Santi's not surprised by your reaction. If he already had such an intense effect on you, then Vesper's going to break your mind into tiny pieces.

The demon's inviting expression morphs into a much more serious one as he shifts to be in front of you. " Listen to me, hotstuff. You don't have to be scared of him, okay? I know he's... Intense-looking, but he probably just wants to catch up with me. " Santi tries to ease your nerves, but it doesn't look like it's working. Sighing, he blinks at you a couple times, lashes rippling and eyes swirling a brilliant green, forcing some ease into you. " How about we make some small talk, and then get you a decent meal? "

Although you nod slowly, it's clear you're not sold on the idea. It's as good as he'll get, Santi supposes. He's aware the two of you are still being observed while he strolls towards the lord. Santi's used to staring, you though? Not so much, poor thing.

When you stand before the large Icon, Santi's sure that, if you had a tail, it would be tucked between your legs. But you haven't stopped looking at him for a second either, the incubus almost feels jealous.

" Your highness. " He nods respectfully.

" Oh ho, none of that here, sweetheart. Tonight, you know me as Vesper. " The demonlord waves a hand, then bends to observe you two much closer, enough to jolt you a little. " I'm so very glad to see you're enjoying my gift! "

Time freezes. A lot of things become clear in a fraction of a second.

" Ha, I almost felt bad leaving her in the garden like that, you poor little baby. " Vesper coos, tickling under your chin briefly as he titters before focusing on Santi. " Of course you were the one who got to her first, I expected nothing less from one of my own. "

Not exactly how things went down, but there's no reason for Santi to contradict such a flattering image of himself. " Truly? This was your doing? How generous of you. "

" Keep it between us, yes Santi? " The King tosses a wink at him, fluffing his neck. " Now sit you two, let's enjoy our time here a bit... "

Large lavander hands pat at the ample purple cushions next to him. The look on his face is less requesting than it is demanding.

Santi has no reason to fear, but he can almost hear your heart thundering next to him. He slips a warm palm down to the small of your back, trying to offer some soothing contact even as he edges you forward gently.

One of the elevators dings nearby, opening to release a small group of drunk monsters.

[littlebitsmile]

in flames [C.L.] | Chapter I

Welcome back! Here's the first official chapter, situated inbetween the ending of the 2023 season and the beginning of the 2024 season. This played out in my head and be prepared, this whole story will be a SLOW burn. Even slower than Ferraris pit stops.

Dropping a new chapter next week, would be nice to see lots of you again!

But until then, enjoy your happy holidays!

[also, please don't forget to read the Prologue first]

story: in flames driver: Charles Leclerc [C.L.] trope: #haterstolovers summary: Always working three times as hard as everyone else, Emma does not intend to blow her chance of driving among the best of the best in her very first season in Formula 1. Concentrating on first and foremost getting ahead of her brother, she does not even notice that there are some people even in her own team who think she does not deserve this spot and would rather see her fail. And one driver in particular seems to have a need of always reminding her of that.

────ʚ C H A P T E R I ɞ────

As soon as the news broke, I have been swarmed by paparazzi. Hell, I could not even go to the toilet in peace without someone asking me about my deal with Aston Martin. But after finishing my last race in Formula 2, I could officially call myself part of a new team.

Sadly, I still have no clue why they approached me with an offer and why they went through with signing me. Initially, I thought it was a joke, some PR stunt to rile up Red Bull, since they made it pretty clear they wanted me and Max as the power duo - after a second and eventually third year of proofing myself in Formula 2. However, a ten-minute phone call turned into an unofficial hour-long meeting, which morphed into a Zoom session involving my manager and a team of lawyers. Three separate five-hour sessions later, where expectations on both sides were thoroughly discussed, I found myself facing a stack of papers with small "x" marks beside every line I needed to sign.

And here I am, wearing a green polo, black trousers, decent makeup, and a smile plastered across my face. Fernando Alonso, one of the biggest names in the sport, nods in my direction, giving me a last look of encouragement or approval—I'm not sure. We walk through the double-winged doors and are instantly met with flashes of light. The noise is overwhelming; I have to restrain myself from covering my ears and squatting on the ground with pleas of "stop." People shout not only my name but also Fernando's, alongside questions we surely are not allowed to answer at the moment.

Navigating through the chaos, we take our places on the couch atop the stage, in front of what must be hundreds of people. I feel like prey, reporters wielding notepads, iPads, and phones as their weapons to summon words that cut through us like knives.

As we sit down, I immediately reach for the glass of water standing next to me to soothe my dry throat. Nausea washes over me as I glance around the room.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the first pre-season interview of Aston Martin! We are delighted to have our two drivers, Fernando Alonso and Emma Verstappen, here for approximately one hour to answer all the questions you certainly have. But first, let’s address the elephant in the room, shall we?"

I was informed about this. We went over a few potential questions in countless meetings with my new PR manager. Nonetheless, I can't help but feel like this is a test I didn't prepare for at all.

"Emma, let’s start with you. This is your first year in Formula 1, and there is a big question on everyone's minds: Why Aston Martin? I mean, your brother – Max Verstappen, for everyone who has been living under a rock for the past couple of years -…" Laughter fills the room. I chuckle myself, but I would rather cry. "He has been with Red Bull since 2016. Everyone thought if there's a chance of you getting into Formula 1, it would be alongside your brother in a Red Bull car. What happened?"

I take a deep breath, swallow, pick up the microphone in my lap, and try not to look straight into the ceiling lights.

"Firstly, thank you all for being here. I do realize you’re here for Fernando and not for me—at least that’s what I’ve been trying to tell myself for the last week so I wouldn’t freak out." More laughter in the crowd. I relax a little. "And thank you for the question. I guess a lot of that was gut feeling. To be honest, I am really not sure why Aston Martin initially talked to me about my chances in Formula 1 since my last driver championship was in Formula 3 two years ago. I just finished second in Formula 2, and I've only been there for a year, so that was quite unusual. But when I talked to the guys and they introduced who was supposed to be my future race engineer and some people from the pit crew, I saw in them what I saw in myself: a purpose. They all spoke so passionately and ambitiously about the next season, and suddenly I felt like I found a place where I belonged. At least that's what my PR told me to say. Actually, I am here because green is my favorite color, and I have the biggest crush on Fernando."

The crowd goes crazy. Everyone claps and cheers. Someone screams, "We all do!" I glance at Fernando, and he smiles at me. Then he picks up his microphone: "We all hope you realize that was a joke. You could be my daughter, Emma. Also, Linda is still the love of my life."

"Damn, if there will ever be a chance of dating Fernando Alonso, Emma, you will have to line yourself up in the back. But, thank you for the close insight. We are pretty proud to have you wearing our colors." The host looks away from us and turns to the crowd. "So, let’s do what we and all of you are here for. Time for some questions."

A few hands instantly shoot into the air. My palms are sweating, and I look around nervously, praying that some people here have the decency not to focus too much on my transfer. But apparently, there is no god in the big blue hanging above us.

"Fernando, how do you feel with a rookie as a teammate? A female one?"

Tiny voices in my head agree with him, and probably many reporters in the room too. I shift uncomfortably on my seat. This press conference is not going in the direction we anticipated. Fernando seems to think about the question, but even though I have not known him for very long, I can feel how he tries to behave and stay calm.

"Age or gender have nothing to do with talent. Or capability, for that matter." His eyes revert to me. A smile. Then he continues: "We’re a team, and success comes from working together. I’m pretty sure an old man like me will learn a lot, but we always have to remember that this is a process. Growing as a team will not happen overnight."

Fernando's calmness washes over me and captures me. He has been doing all of this for so long—PR training, talking to reporters, reading about himself in newspapers and on tabloids. I feel pretty lost, like I am on an island with only a book about survival strategies, but it is not written in any language I can speak.

"What did you think about the statement Charles Leclerc made last week, about you being in this sport solely because of your brother? Or maybe, a bold follow-up question: Is your place in Formula 1 rather about connections than skill?"

I laugh, and the room immediately goes silent. "Sorry, what was your name?" I ask.

"Uhm…Kevin?"

"Well, Kevin, that’s a really good question, and I have to say there hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t asked myself the exact same thing." I pause and look around. Shock is plastered all over the reporters' faces, probably because they did not expect this kind of answer. "The thing is, my whole life I was second. Second being born, second to being seen, second to being supported. Second to start karting after Max had already a great start. The only time I did something Max didn’t do before me was when I joined a Formula 2 team—and that was only because he went straight from Formula 3 to Formula 1."

I remember the call I got when my place at DAMS was secured. I was excited beyond words, screamed, cried, laughed, all at the same time. I thought, finally, I have something to be proud of, something I achieved by myself. Something for myself. But when I went to tell my family, the only comment I got from Dad was: "Well, maybe you’re not as talented to just go straight to Formula 1. But it’s a nice chance, for a girl." Max does not know about that conversation, and I try to keep it that way. Otherwise, he would probably punch Dad in the face, a couple of times.

"Of course, it is hard to believe in yourself when there are so many people who doubt you, but that’s the beautiful thing about Aston Martin and the seat they offered me: They see something in me no one else sees, and they believe that I can contribute something to this team. These are guys who have been in motorsport way longer than I am, so I think it would be pretty fair to say I trust their judgment more than someone who tries to make a living of writing stories about strangers, I guess." A few people laugh, a few clap. I try not to be rude, but it is true. People are so quick to judge situations they are not in, and I am not here for that.

"Also, I cannot influence what any other driver on the grid has to say about me. As I said, I am here because some people see potential in me being a F1 driver and I will not let them regret this decision, so...I guess Charles, and any other driver for that matter, can have opinions about me all they want, but I am going to race these guys, whether they like it or not. This is a chance and I don't intend to blow it."

"Well, that’s a clear statement, and I’m right with you on that. Hopefully, pardon my French, you will kick some ass out there this season. The men need it, believe me." There is a wink in his tone. The room erupts in applause and camera flashes. I smile and nod, a small "thank you" gesture to the reporter.

"Thanks, Kevin. I will try my best not to disappoint you."

The press conference concludes about thirty minutes later; we say our quick goodbyes and leave to go back to the headquarters.

"What a day, huh?" Fernando remarks as we come to a halt in front of our cars. I sigh, shake my head, and gaze down at the ground.

"This was a lot more challenging than I thought. They're like... like..." I struggle to find the right word to capture the feeling. Fernando nudges me, a gesture of understanding.

“I know what you mean, but that’s their job. If they don’t bring out the worst in us, they would suck at it. But you handled it quite well, so don’t worry about it.” I glance at him. When I grow up, I want to be as calm as this man—like a huge cliff at sea, never giving in to whatever storm is coming.

“I haven’t seen what statement Charles made, did you?” I try not to sound too curious.

“Don’t dwell on it. I’m sure a lot of people will comment on you joining Aston Martin, some more, some less. But the most important thing is to clear your mind. We don’t need distractions – we only need some confidence. I can feel it; this will be our year.”

"If you say so."

And with that, Fernando waves one more time, gets into his car, and then drives off with a loud roar of the engine.

I look around, absorbing the peace and how silence envelops me.

Guess it’s time to start believing in myself and kick some ass.

────ʚ [Masterlist] [Prologue] [Chapter II] ɞ────

[nesiacha]

Letter from Babeuf to Félix Le Peletier, 5 Prairial Year V

Warning: talks about the suicide attempt of Babeuf and Darthé, sensitive souls to abstain

Last letter from Babeuf to Félix Le Peletier

"The jurors, my friend, are about to vote to decide your fate and mine. From all I can perceive, you will escape, but not I. If my wife gives you this letter, she will include the one I wrote to you on the 26th of Messidor last year… The approach of the fateful moment has closed my mind and perhaps my heart to any expression of the feelings I might have shared a few days ago. I don't know, but I didn’t think it would cost me so much to see the dissolution of my being. No matter what they say, nature is always strong. Philosophy offers some tools to overcome it, but you must always pay tribute to it. I still hope to have enough strength to face my final hour; but no more should be expected. I feel a confusion, an indifference, or a void of ideas that I cannot explain. It seems that I wish I could feel something for my wife, for my children, but I no longer feel anything.

To die for the country, to leave behind a family, children, a beloved wife, would be more bearable if I didn’t see at the end of it all the lost freedom and everything that belongs to sincere Republicans, wrapped in the most horrible proscription.

I would advise my wife to try to guide the children with great gentleness, and I would advise my children to deserve their mother’s kindness by respecting her and always remaining obedient to her...

Goodbye. I no longer hold on to the earth except by a thread, which the day tomorrow will surely break. I see it clearly. It must be sacrificed. The wicked are the strongest; I yield to them. At least it is comforting to die with a conscience as pure as mine: everything that is cruel and heart-wrenching is being torn away from your arms, my tender friends, from everything I hold most dear!!! I am being torn from it; the violence is done... Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, ten million times goodbye..."

On the 26th of May, Babeuf is condemned to death with Darthé. Babeuf made a courageous defense, fighting, refusing to answer, contesting many points, trying to save the less compromised or the fugitives by taking full responsibility in this "society of democrats," but acknowledging all the attacks against the Directory and declaring, “The decision of the jurors will resolve this question… Will France remain a Republic, or will it revert to a monarchy?” According to Pierre Serna, Babeuf was nonetheless irresponsible when he had left a list of accomplices in his room. Perhaps it was this guilt that pushed him to take the front line, trying to save as many of his comrades as possible? On the other hand, Babeuf was a true enthusiast of the revolution and was ready to risk his life. He had been in and out of prison so many times that he knew little freedom once he became involved. I should look into this point. The accuser says: "France is tired of rolling from Revolution to Revolution." (The beginning of the end of the revolution had already started with this phrase.)

When he hears the death sentence, Darthé, with his shirt open, cries "Long live the Republic" and stabs himself, as does Babeuf. Darthé tries to strike again but is stopped by the gendarmes. The courtroom is shocked. Babeuf and Darthé are still alive. Babeuf asks to see his wife and children one last time. He is denied. They are brought to the scaffold. Darthé refuses to go (perhaps in a state of shock from his injuries). Babeuf proceeds with more determination.

Now, some sources say it was Emile who gave his father the knife for him to attempt to die with. But Gracchus Babeuf loved his children and wanted to keep them as far away from danger as possible. Also, given the searches, it would have been complicated to transfer the weapon. It would have been his wife, his political right-hand, who would have done it, as she had shared all the dangers with him and was thus more experienced (in addition to sparing their sons psychologically). However, another more plausible source in the exhibition "Les Amis de Gracchus Babeuf" suggests that Babeuf obtained a wire which he worked and sharpened. I believe this version.

P.S. Here is a letter of escape attempt from Babeuf to his wife: "There is only one guard in the small courtyard at the end; we must win him over, and we will take him with us to Paris. He will be received as the liberator of the friends of the people. He must come from six to eight in the evening. We will leave through the house you know. For the first signal, the liberator must whistle the victory song at noon or later that day, and in the evening, at the desired moment, he will strike the ground three times successively with the butt of his rifle. Answer me as we agreed, citoyenne."

This is a code, taking the first word of each line and the last word of each line (his wife, his political right-hand, imprisoned for taking care of his subscriptions and who continued to have problems with the Napoleonic police, in concert with their friend Antonelle).

Félix Le Peletier will keep his word to Babeuf and protect his family, being a close friend. But Félix Le Peletier, during his escape (under Bonaparte), prefers to send letters directly to the Paris authorities after his escape, as you can see here: https://www.tumblr.com/nesiacha/766244583584694272/f%C3%A9lix-lepeletier-de-saint-fargeau-un-personnage?source=share instead of send letter like Babeuf to try to escape .

To tell the truth, I had planned to write a piece on the relationship between Babeuf and Robespierre and then compile it with the other posts I made about him this week. But I am still missing some information in anticipation of Babeuf's anniversary, which is today. It’s not a big deal, I’ll take a little delay.

[offsidekineticist]

△ Theo (bleachling specifically), if you could have 5 minutes of time to speak to your brother again without any other distractions or interference and he HAD to listen. What would you say to him?

Under a cut because this is like 11/10 so CW: panic attack and self-harm (intentionally aggravating an old injury as a response to anxiety)

He freezes. His expression, previously warm, goes mostly blank. Mostly, except for the ways his eyes widen and his stone gray flesh turns ashy. He opens and closes his mouth several times, and you realize he's trying to speak but nothing is coming out.

"Please...don't make me answer that," he finally chokes out, trying to hold a stoic expression but shaking nonetheless.

"You must answer. Those are the terms," the Questioner says. Theoven wraps his arms around his chest, hands tucked between his side and his arm less carefully than you would have expected, the shaking persisting.

"I...I don't think I'd be able to speak," he says, voice unsteady. "Does - does that answer the question? Please, I swear, every time I saw him - or the thing that seemed like him - in that place, I couldn't - it wouldn't - " he stops himself, and you see his shoulders bobbing up and down with every breath, each breath coming more quickly than the last. He nods in a hollow imitation of confidence. "Yes, that is my answer. I wouldn't be able to speak."

"'Without any other distractions or interference,'" the Questioner repeats. "Loss of the ability to speak would inarguably be a distraction."

"I don't want to see him!" Theoven barely gets the words out through the sob he cant hold back any longer, and now his cheeks are darkening again, and he squeezes his eyes shut trying to clear the tears. He slouches, curling in on himself, arms held so rigidly against his body that his hands must hurt terribly, and you can tell the only reason he doesnt curl up into a fetal position is theres no room for it at the table where he's seated. "I don't want to know - if he was there, I don't want to know! I don't want to hear him tell me why he - how he - I don't want to remember him like that!" His sobs are more violent now, racking his body as he struggles for breath. His breaths are sharp and loud and fast, each one sounding almost like the bark of a sick dog.

The Questioner waits.

It takes time, but slowly - painfully slowly - the sobs die down, becoming more like hiccups. They slow, coming less and less often, until he is breathing normally again.

"I would ask him to leave," Theoven finally says softly, head bowed as he stares at his lap, arms still pressing his hands painfully into his side. "I'm sorry. I know that...if he wasn't...wasn't there, there are things he deserves to hear me say but - I don't think I can say them anymore. And if he was there - " he stops. "He hated spiders. Loved chess. Every brawl I ever lost, he was there with a stern, rambling lecture and enough potions that my mentors at the library never noticed an injury. I should be allowed to remember him like that. I shouldn't have to remember - " he stops and slightly shakes his head before whispering, "I would ask him to leave."

The Questioner is satisfied.

[cj-writes-things]

Love over Law chapter 5

Series tw: animal death, violence, trauma, parental neglect

~~~

Chapter 1 • Chapter 4

Once they were outside the tunnel, Wolfpaw tentatively mumbled, "Dawnfrost, can I ask you something?"

"What's troubling you?"

"I... I was thinking, my mother doesn't really seem interested in, well, being my mother. She's so... moody and disinterested. Why?"

Dawnfrost sighed heavily, wishing she knew how to answer the young cat's question, how to take the sting from her experience of being virtually rejected. Wolfpaw was bound to have asked this question sooner or later.

"Sparrowthorn... was never a very affectionate cat; it just isn't in her nature. She also didn't take too kindly to responsibility."

Dawnfrost paused, a guilty look crossing her face as she spoke of her daughter in such a way, to her kit no less. But the kit in question deserved an explanation.

"But beyond that, some things happened when she was younger that... changed her," she continued, more gently.

"She became more distant and reckless after that, until eventually she had all but cut ties with me. I worried, if I'm being completely honest, when I found out she was expecting kits. I wish things could have been different for you, but what Sparrowthorn went through, the choices she made, they were beyond my control- some of it remains even beyond my knowledge. I'm sure it's hard to understand, but I want you to know that it has nothing to do with you. It's not your fault, and the rest of the clan and I love you very much."

Wolfpaw's ears were low, her golden eyes downcast. She knew Dawnfrost was trying her best to make her feel better, and she was grateful, but she still felt as though she had more questions than answers. Questions that were heavy in her chest and left a sour taste in her mouth, like some part of her knew the answers might be just as painful as the not knowing.

"Thanks, Grandma," she murmured, nonetheless, slowly sweeping her tail back and forth. She nuzzled her head against the older she-cat, who whispered, "Anytime you need to talk, or have questions to ask, I'm here, okay?"

Wolfpaw nodded, her nose touching Dawnfrost's so the elder could sense the motion. Against her will, she yawned. She couldn't help it; the sun had sunk below the horizon, and she had had an exhausting day. Dawnfrost huffed in faint amusement. "You must be tired, young one. Why don't you go to the apprentice den and rest, maybe talk to your friends before dinner?"

"Okay," came the sleepy response. "Goodbye, Dawnfrost."

"Goodbye, my little warrior."

Wolfpaw trudged over to the stack of hollow logs used by the apprentices as a den, her drowsiness fading as she realized she was about to spend her first night sleeping here instead of in the nursery.

This den wasn't the same as it had been when the elders were young; she had known it had been replaced, but now she was fairly sure she knew why.

The old one must have been torn up by that fox.

She was wondering where the clan had found all the hollow logs when she was startled to see a head poking out of one of them. She quickly recovered though as she recognized her friend; Fawnpaw had been waiting inside to greet her.

"Hi, Fawnpaw."

"Hey Wolfpaw!" the perky young she-cat called. "Welcome to the apprentice den! I already set up your new nest; it's beside mine in this log up here. I hope that's okay."

"That's great, thanks!"

"So, how's apprenticeship treating you?"

"Today was pretty easy; I practiced stalking and cleaned out the elders' bedding. But Duskstar says my training will get harder and harder, so they can make sure I'm 'fully prepared for the challenges I will face in the difficult life of a warrior.'" She did her best to imitate the solemn tone her mentor had used.

"Yeah, that sounds pretty similar to my first day. I think they tell all the apprentices that," Fawnpaw giggled.

"What's so funny?"

"Well, it's a rather dramatic way to put it, isn't it? And as far as I've seen, it doesn't really get that much harder, as long as you pay attention and do as you're told. I bet you'll ace your training, Wolfpaw. You're good at everything."

That got a smile.

"Thanks, Fawn."

The light brown she-cat slowly swished her tail for a moment, thinking.

"So, hey, you want me to give you the tour?" she asked.

Wolfpaw tilted her head and responded, "Sure."

"All right, come on then!"

Fawnpaw leapt down from inside her log and beckoned Wolfpaw to follow her. She circled around to the end of one of the bottom logs of the stack, peering into its dark interior.

"This is where Splinterpaw sleeps; he wanted a log to himself, something about personal space. Kinda stinks for Claypaw though, he would have liked having a... logmate? This one here is his," she pointed at the log next to Splinterpaw's with her nose.

"It gets a little more sunlight. I think Splinterpaw likes the darkness in his, but Claypaw prefers the warmth. It's really nice how there aren't too many apprentices; we each got to choose whichever log we wanted. Anyway, I've been saving a spot for you in my log since we moved in. I think Claypaw was hoping Lilacpaw could share his den, but, well, she's the medicine cat apprentice, so, that's not gonna happen. Kinda sad, I guess. We were both looking forward to you two moving in with us."

Wolfpaw froze.

"Wait, Lilacpaw won't be in the apprentice den?"

Fawnpaw tilted her head, meeting her younger friend's concerned gaze.

"No, silly. Don't you know? She'll sleep in the medicine den with Canyonbreeze," she explained.

"Oh," Wolfpaw muttered, her bushy black tail drooping sadly.

"Yeah, it really sucks," added a voice from behind them.

Wolfpaw whipped her head around to see Claypaw padding over to join the two she-cats. His chipper attitude from before was gone; he seemed pretty upset that he wouldn't be seeing his friend as often as he had hoped.

Wolfpaw knew how he felt. She and Lilacpaw had grown up together. Her mother, Silverbreeze, had been a major part of Wolfpaw's upbringing, and the two kits had come to be more like sisters than just denmates. She sighed, realizing that, for the first time in her short life, she wouldn't be sharing a den with the small gray-and-white cat.

"Hey, cheer up," Fawnpaw said comfortingly, noticing her friend's saddened state. "You've still got us, remember? And it's not like you can't see her everyday. She just won't be sleeping in the same place as us."

"Yeah... I guess you're right."

"Of course I am. Now come on," she said, brightening. "It's time for the clan to eat dinner, and you get to join us and pick your own prey for once!"

"All right, I'm coming. Hey! Wait up!"

Fawnpaw had already turned around and raced toward the center of camp, glancing back as if daring the others to try to beat her to the clearing.

Oh, that's how you wanna play it, huh? Okay, I'm game!

Wolfpaw gathered her legs beneath her and threw herself forward, ignoring the prickle of apprehension in the back of her mind and taking off after Fawnpaw. She shortened the gap between them, her paws flying across the rocky ground. At last she caught up, skidding to a halt just as they reached their destination. It felt unpleasantly familiar.

"Whoa," Fawnpaw panted. "You're still faster than me? Like I said, good at everything."

Wolfpaw, trying not to let her thoughts wander to past races, glanced around at the gathered cats. She saw her mentor sitting across the clearing; with a nod to her fellow apprentices, she dashed over to Duskstar's side.

"Greetings, Wolfpaw. Did you tend to the elders' bedding as you were told?"

The little she-cat dipped her head respectfully. "Yes, Duskstar," she answered.

"Good," the blue-gray tabby purred. "I thought as much. Well, now that your duties for the day are done, you may select something from the fresh-kill pile for dinner."

Wolfpaw padded slowly to the boulder in the center of the clearing where warriors deposited the fruits of their hunts throughout the day, letting her gaze drift over the warriors around her.

Almost everyone was there, except Canyonbreeze and Lilacpaw, who were still in the medicine den, and Goldenbrook, whose minor wounds they were tending. The she-cat had tripped over some rocks while hunting and had scratched herself up. Nothing serious, but she had gone to get checked over just in case.

There was one other cat missing, however. One warrior was unaccounted for, and this particular cat's absence stood out to the young apprentice.

Where are you, Sparrowthorn?

~~~

Chapter 6

[janumun]

What if Zhongli's dragonic scales can fall off? Sometimes while shedding, sometimes they scrap off. Obviously, it's been a long while at this point since Zhongli shed. He abandoned this original body once embracing mortal life.

But what if his lover found the olden fossils of these ancient scales laying around one day? Cold and all alone in the sand, peaking out like seashells fighting against the ocean waves.

Thinking they were cool rocks, they come to Zhongli for a look over. Imagine his surprise at their quite interesting find.

Oh no, they're displaying the scales in a decorative box next to their work desk, and now Zhongli has to see them fondly eyeing every day because it's so beautiful. Like the scales themselves are filling you with a steep confidence to tackle your day with.

They take such great care of these scales too, not a speck of dust will be left once we are done. Putting them on a softened silk pillow, enclosing them in strong glass on a shelf where you can clearly see the faint geo glisten brightly in awakening, centuries and centuries of eternal slumber hasn't completely eroded the molten gold power sealed inside.

Please don't question why Zhongli cleared his throat and looked away blushing when he patiently asked you why not allow the apparent erosion in the fading fossils to finish, let nature finish what it started as no one even remembers what these fossils are. And you answered by saying you just thought wonderful things deserved their lasting beauty to be observed and cherished by the world that's taking its course on them. Even if they are only shells of their former selves.

The Lord of Geo did not expect to be fluttered in this way today, but would he even have the heart to stop you?

(Assuming you don't know his secret especially.)

Hmmm... the headcanon you’ve shared isn’t my cup of tea so I don’t think I could add to it but it is an interesting and cute concept, nonetheless. 

I’m going to put it out here for other folks who might enjoy this short, sweet idea you’ve put so much thought into, Anon.

[dark-horse76]

Enfield and Me

(in which I ramble on... and on... and on about Enfield... and me xd)

The Enfield Gang Massacre is my favourite comic, and it lives rent-free in my head. Last time I wrote about Enfield, I wrote that the reasons I love Enfield have to do with Enfield itself (the story/artwork), some of which I could talk about but many of which I can't because I don't yet have the knowledge or the words, and personal reasons that for the most part I couldn't sort out and were just a big, messy question. Both sides have started to become a bit clearer. (Although, I suppose I have to caveat that there's not necessarily a very clear distinction between the two sides - they are definitely intertwined in many places xd.)

So, in this, I'm going to attempt to sort out some of my messy thoughts and feelings around Enfield. Buckle up, kids xd

Firstly, I think I should reiterate that I got Enfield not expecting to like it. It has the words "gang" and "massacre" in the title, and I'm fairly sure some of the early press around it described it as "brutal". These are signs that something will not be my kind of thing (not that I really know what my kind of thing is anymore rofl)! Then why, you might ask, did I add it to my subscription list soon after it was announced and read it in the first place?

Two answers: Because I'd read issue 14 of That Texas Blood (made by the same people, Enfield is set in the same universe but much earlier) and loved it a lot and because I'd seen an image (below) from the first issue of Enfield and loved that.

The writing in Enfield and TTB is in the vernacular, and I guess it made me realise how out of place I sometimes feel. I may've lived in Britain nearly 15 years, but I'm not from here. I never will be. I'll always be an outsider.

I think it all made me kind of homesick and looking at that artwork was/is comforting. I don't even... like, I'm not from West Texas - I've never even been to West Texas 😂 but... I don't know. It's home, nonetheless, I guess.

TTB#14 - and it's always felt strange thinking this, considering what goes in TTB lol but - also made me remember the good sides of Texas. I know Texas is a shithole, and it's wearying. TTB and Enfield, despite everything that goes on in them, helped me remember things I love about Texas. Both Chris Condon and Jacob Phillips deserve to be honorary Texans (and I'm still a little surprised neither of them is Texan lol because it's normally only Texans who talk this way about Texas).

I think going into it not expecting to like it made it hit all the harder when I did. That's my excuse anyway lol Blindsided by Enfield like I was blindsided by comics generally lol

And, like comics generally, I think one of the reasons Enfield has come to mean so much to me is because it kinda finished, or accelerated, what comics generally had started. I think I would have caught on eventually, but Enfield hit me with it in a moment of clarity when I was reading the first issue. Just. I'm holding it in my hands, looking at it, and all of a sudden I know with a certain panicky dread - I need to make comics. I tried to talk my brain out of it, you know, with logic, especially around the rather important not being able to draw bit, but... well, my brain won xd.

I think I would have gotten to that realisation eventually, because comics is definitely the closest to how I envision stories. When I was younger, I used to use film scripts as a guide because that's the only frame of reference I had for what I wanted to do - it wasn't what I wanted to do, but that was comics but I didn't know about comics... 😭

Enfield is also responsible for getting me to be interested in and like art. It started with Jacob Phillips's colours, which I love. Of course, I don't know anything about art, so I don't really know why I love it so much or why I think it works so well, but it made me want to go try to find out, to pay attention to what artists do and the choices they make, to look at as much art as I can, to learn everything I can.

I went to an art museum (or gallery, not actually sure and actually no idea what the difference is lol...) for the first time a few months ago, and that was fantastic. It's all comics' fault (mostly Enfield) xd

Somewhat coupled (but not completely) with the whole "I need to write comics" thing that reading Enfield made realise, Enfield also helped re-ignite my desire to learn how to draw, because there's a few panels in there that I frequently try to draw. I just can't help it even though it goes not very well every time lol

I've always thought "I wish I could draw" but never had much motivation to actually try, because I suck at it xd. Doesn't help that I pretty much stopped drawing when I was <10 years old. But I have to. My brain is giving me no choice. It's literally the hardest thing I've ever tried to learn, and I don't think I've ever sucked so bad at something ROFL, but...

Would this have happened without Enfield? Like realising I need to turn my writing-focus to comics, probably. It's a little hard to escape when being sucked into the whirlpool of comics, but.

So, basically, it feels like Enfield re-forged me similar to how comics generally did. I sometimes (okay, a lot xd) think of comics as a tsunami that unexpectedly ripped me from my peaceful, non-comics beach and half-drowned me whilst dragging me out to sea. Then once I stopped struggling, it deposited me on an island paradise. Where Enfield proceeded to crash into me like a meteor 😂😂😂

Was Enfield just in the right place at the right time? Maybe, though I'm not sure it ultimately matters if that's the case or not. I think my gut is that it's more than that. I read relatively a lot of comics last year, and it's only Enfield that had this impact.

If I could do comics even remotely like Enfield, I would be very happy indeed. (Do I think I'll be able to? Absolutely not, but it's good to have aspirations lol)

The other thing that gets me about Enfield is it's a Western. Now, as far as I know, I don't like Westerns. However, this thought was formed by being forced to watch like every single John Wayne movie known to man - which, fortunately, due to my absolute crap memory, I don't actually remember haha.

Enfield, I think I would call a subversive Western, in that it takes what I think of as the expected tropes (lawmen = good, outlaws = bad, usually mixing in some racism and imperialism for good measure...) and...doesn't do that xd. It's not inverted, exactly, Enfield's not, like, a Good Guy (TM), but the 'good guys' are not Good Guys. And THAT is far more interesting. It's complicated, like real life.

It reminds me of the moment I knew I was going to love the story:

You wouldn't believe the number of scenarios I came up with trying to figure out how the end of the story (Enfield dying, it's not a spoiler, trust me xd) could be not the real end of the story because of this page 😂

Anyway. I've probably rambled on about Enfield (again) enough for one day (for now) xd

So, yeah. I love Enfield a lot, and if you haven't read it, you should read it (and also TTB) it's really good, I promise xd

[hoghtastic]

Just a little rant bc I just don't get it. I was all happy for Alex when I first heard him mention he had a girlfriend, everyone deserves love but then I looked closely at her, her history and her behavior and I drew my own opinion and here it goes. If she really truly loves him and not what he can do for her why did she act so childish and horrid? The post/deletes before he went public the trolling fans and crazy obsessive behavior, his clothes, using his apartment etc. It drew some negative reaction, did they really not expect that?. She made him look like a fool , especially during her Jersey Boys postings, then I think Alex made her scale back. He has looked terrible for months now and only since in Madrid has he looked better.

Here is my question? why then do they keep trying to make this big public love show. If she is really loves him then just stop pushing this and just be together in their private life. She has a career and right now Alex may still have a chance to salvage his. So why keep up this constant push in the media, the A necklace and a section in her magazine article aboit him? I mean I know it's common for some to speak about their relationship but not to the extent mostly she has to push it so public. It is obvious they both feel the negative impact. But she clings to this association to Alex!

So why keep up this crap, why do they feel the need to convince the public that absolutely does not matter to their personal lives?? Career wise yes fans are important but at this point I don't understand why they keep pushing so hard to "convince the world they are in fact in love?? To me it makes it seem more fake and it has really hurt Alex with his fan base so why does she keep trying to make it look at me I have Alex. I don't get that and I don't understand how he doesn't see it?.

They really just need to keep it private and on their private accounts and just let her own personal talent shine without piggybacking on Alex so much. I think maybe more fans could let shit go but she just keeps pushing it.

Am I the only one who sees that or am I wrong?

Thank you for sharing your thoughts on this, anon. 😊 In my opinion, you've raised a lot of valid questions. Unfortunately, I'm afraid we'll never get definitive answers to them. Although, we can speculate, and from my perspective she doesn't love him as much as she loves the idea of being with him — a hot, internationally famous actor — and everything he can do for her, both directly (like helping with the podcast, bringing her to Paris Fashion Week, etc...) and indirectly (granting her more views and exposition by association). We've also watched the downfall of "the best in the world" (aka Mikal), when she so quickly replaced him for Alex, leading me to believe that she also didn't love him as much as she loved the idea of being in a perfect relationship. As for Alex, I don't know... maybe he really thinks this is love and how things are supposed to be? Maybe he's blinded by love bombing, or maybe he actually sees things how they really are, but is okay with everything nonetheless? 🤷‍♀️

[girlwholoveslpreppyattire]

'Would you like you if you met you?'

I think alot about this question and i kinda go back and forth with the answer

If i met me, i think i would've said 'she's put together yet too shy. She is somehow happy but she thinks a lot which holds her back, a little too emotional, a little too depressed for her age, gets stressed over big ones as well as unnecessary small ones, but she's kind i'd give her that. She is very sentimental and emphatic and obviously not the most optimistic person'

'She genuinely loves being a girl, made her do happy little dances when she sees something girlish . She's funny because she thinks nobody gets 'Pink' like she does and nobody sees it the way she does. People called her for being too feminine and girly her whole life, for being too soft but she's okay with that now'

'She tends to beat around the bush than be straightforward, the kind to contemplate over everything and anything. The type of person to go silent when she's mad at you because she had a hard time opening up , however she knows that she can't use that as an excuse forever , how complex. She crys plentuous, fair amount that gives people an idea that she is weak. But i'd never say that , only because thats her way, her way of healing instead of bursting with rage or exploding with anger'

'She hurts and burns but somehow she never learns, very forgiving almost pathetic, so uncool of her , funny!'

'There are people who are very daring and goes all out , she admits that she's not, but suprizingly she is not ashamed to be timid atleast not now . The type to spoke so cautiously minding everything and everyone, but thats too exhausting she truly needs to manage that for her own sake'

'She got quite a bad traits too, demanding, sad, super anxious, pessimistic, hesitant for absolutely no reason sometimes, fearful;skittish and very sensitive'

'In the meantime, her subtle sweetness, love and care is felt by people close to her. She always tries to be considerate and understanding, she wants to be as mindful and as supportive as she can be. She is respectful to other's opinion but a little expectent from others which is not probably right thing to do. Always in her head that she gets from her family , but one thing that keeps her separate from her family is she's gentle, and fragile that she she feels left out a lot.'

'If u were to meet her, I advice you to be understanding. To hear her out because it takes a little longer than others to get her out. I wish you would speak to her softly because she'd do the same, be gentle when she freaks out. Above all she's quite a person actually so it didn't take much to make her happy , walking and chatting makes her happy, sitting in silence makes her happy, books,skies, coffee,tvshows, music,flowers, rain, plants, wind, literally anything can make her happy. She loves to be at peace and serene surroundings, quiet moments like when the only sound is the birds flying, she lives in her head too much; a bit of a burden for her but she for sure loves that nonetheless . So many more of her to say but my utmost advice is just to be nice. No need for extravagance just be nice, she strongly dislike people who are rude for no reason, speak nice words and act accordingly and she'll come around , she will appreciate that so much '

'Would you like you if you met you?'

My answer is Yes i would like me if i met me. Simply because I am a good person and deserve good things too like every other good person.

🎀🫧🌸🐚💗ིྀ

(My whole life i've been judging myself, i tend to see only what i lack , i am very hard on myself, i push myself so much , i let my insecurities ruin me and don't take compliments well. I have a hard time loving myself , so here i am trying to embrace,my flaws and all that and accepting myself for what i truly am)