#anyways if you read all this thank you. I love you and you deserve all the love in the world and many many lollipops <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[magnificent-buckless-butt]

Wait. Seriously, hold on. This post is hunting me right now because I think I can finally put my fingers on why USA Christianity is weirding me out since the beginning.

As an European, it baffles me how much of the population identify as Christians while acting and saying things like they've never read the Bible in the first place. Except they did, in some extant, because they're the one that quote it so often (we don't do that here, we might refer to a specific part but don't really quote the Bible?). So why, why do they act as if they never read love your neighbor, give the other cheek, Father forgive them etc.?

Because they want to be warriors actually. They want a wrathful God. And there is God's anger in the Bible, there is the wrath of God that must appealed and you must always feel guilty and ask for forgiveness*. But comes Jesus and what he says is basically 'no more'. No more wrath, no more anger, no more warriors. But humans love raging war.

And we fucking did throughout the whole history of Christians actually. You start by saying you're a warrior of Christ, that your virtue is your sword, your faith is your shield and so one. It's nice: you're being a good believer AND you get to have this badass, very virilis imagery of the warrior. But! If you're lucky enough, you'll even have a real war against some "pagans" (really, you don't have to worry about the specifics) and then! Ouh boy, you get to be a real warrior. Everything is perfect.

Which brings us to: why are these people not changing faith/God? Pick another, more angry God/deity or simply go with a "personal faith away from human's restricting religion". Answer: because it's so fucking hard. I'm studying theology so hard and sometimes it happens that I find Catholicism restricting, too verbose or too specific. Except I can't just ditch "my" religion. (To be fair, I also really don't want to because I decided to fight from the heart of the Church but that's another subject. Oh, and notice how I used fight --even I can't refrain from the manly warrior)

Okay, so what do we do? Well I say, we piss them off. And we do so by celebrating the fucking amazingness that is God made human just to fucking die. Jesus never won by any human standards. He was the ultimate loser. And ain't that absolutely beautiful? And humbling? How can you hate the Mexican who takes your job if God tell you to wash his feet as if you're below him? How can you decide who deserves right if you God tell you that you should strip yourself for a random stranger? I say we fight back by being unapologetically happy that God died for us. Not guilty. Happy. It's so, so beautiful that They love us so much and only want us to replicate a fraction of Their love to everyone we encounter. That we have to make ourselves a bit uncomfortable so a stranger can be a whole lot comfortable. That we have to renounce privileges and luxury so all human beings can have the exact same things and opportunities. That it is shameful to try to be better than anyone else. That it is shameful to try to be successful on our own because we're supposed to uplift everyone else before ourselves. That it is shameful not to be empathetic, vulnerable, open about our weaknesses etc.

So anyway, thanks OP because now I'm even more filled with spite that will fuels my love so I can spite their hatred.

*okay side note since you're still here: this is why in the first centuries, there was a heretic branch of Christianity very adamant on separating the Old testament God to the new gospel God.

[vettelsvee]

Hello! I hope this is the correct way to request..., can you write a lewis story for prompt 28? It can be something like, reader is a new wag and there is some online hate, and lewis comforts them. It's completely fine if you don't wanna do this story, Thank you!! 💞

DON'T LET THEM SAY THAT. YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL | Lewis Hamilton

Lewis Hamilton x Actress!Reader

SUMMARY: Lewis and you decided to make your relationship public in Maranello before 2025 Formula 1 season starts. However, love from fans isn't there as you expected ↳ REQUESTED: Part of VEE'S F1 PROMPTS LIST (VOL. I)! Feel free to request anything you want <3 Hope you liked it anon! 💖

WORD COUNT: 2043

WARNINGS: Age gap (reader is on her early 20s and Lewis is 40), fans acting like crazy, hate towards Y/N

VEE'S NOTES: I received this prompt on the inbox today and I don't know how I wrote, corrected, translated and corrected once again it today. Also, first ever Ferrari!Lewis fic I'm so emotional right now. Not really happy with the result since like Y/N in this fic, I have many intrusive thoughts about my writing and I didn't have the best of the weekends, but hope you enjoy it anyways! Remember that I appreciate your comments, feedback, as well as reblogs, thank you so much! :)

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The whirlwind of emotions you’ve experienced since your relationship with Lewis Hamilton became public has been unimaginable... and that’s putting it lightly.  

Although you were somewhat used to the spotlight thanks to your rising career as an actress, flashes from cameras, crowds shouting for you to turn around so they could get a picture, and the occasional fan asking for a photo or autograph, the world of Formula 1 was completely new to you.  

You couldn’t deny that you were unhappy with how drastically your life had changed. The man who had just joined Scuderia Ferrari had become everything you had ever imagined in a partner. kind, undeniably caring, and, most importantly, empathetic enough to understand how overwhelming this sudden rise in fame was for you.  

Lewis had noticed how down you’d been ever since he decided to post those photos of you both in Maranello. You had both agreed to go together so he could test one of those legendary red cars for the first time, fully aware that people would inevitably start talking. That day, you decided to make your relationship public after keeping it a secret for about six months, agreeing that it was best to do so before the 2025 season began.  

Despite it all, despite how much you had started closing yourself off in the following weeks, Lewis remained by your side, making you feel like the most important person in the world. But it was becoming increasingly difficult for him, especially when all you did was act like everything was fine on the outside while you were slowly destroying yourself inside.  

The nightmare began with small comments on the photo Lewis had uploaded to Instagram, just you, posing timidly in front of the Ferrari while he held you around the waist, smiling like never before. At first, the comments didn’t seem like a big deal, with people just wanting to know more about your relationship or if it was serious. But soon, the messages started pouring in, insults and threats far worse than you had ever imagined, many of them coming from underage girls. Eventually, you had to disable comments on every single one of your photos, no matter how old they were.

However, what truly became a living nightmare for you were the Twitter threads and, especially, the accounts dedicated exclusively to Formula 1 wags. They were relentless, tearing you apart, analyzing your every move as if dating one of the 20 drivers on the grid was equivalent to committing first-degree murder.

“She’s just looking for fame now that her acting career is taking off.”

“She doesn’t deserve someone like Lewis.”

“She’s too young for him.”

“And let’s not even talk about how ugly she is… have you seen her?”

You sighed, throwing your phone onto the couch with such force that it ended up crashing onto the floor. But you didn’t even bother to check if it was broken. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t read any more comments, wouldn’t even open your Instagram account, yet you couldn’t resist. After all, you were human, and the weight of it all was becoming too much to bear, even more than you were willing to admit to Lewis, to whom you hadn’t fully opened up yet.

The hotel room in Tokyo, where you and Lewis had decided to stay for one of your last vacations before the season began, fell into complete silence. The only sound that filled the space was your muffled sobs.

“And who even is she? Nobody knows her.”

“Lewis deserves someone better, that’s for sure.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away.

You couldn’t understand it. It felt so unfair... Why were you being treated this way just for loving someone? Why did people throw venomous words at you without even knowing you, without even trying to? Did being a fan of Lewis automatically mean they had to hate you?

You tried to relax, to break free from the spiral of thoughts that only led you to overthink, but it was impossible. Once your mind started down that path, the only thing it knew how to do was tear you apart from the inside.

As you tried to steady your breathing and quickly wiped away your tears, a knock echoed at the door.

You pulled yourself together as fast as you could, forcing a smile while glancing at your reflection in the mirror. You swore to yourself that you’d do everything possible to pretend that everything was fine, that you were fine.

But the moment you opened the door and saw Lewis, drenched in sweat from his gym session and pulling out his earbuds, you immediately turned around and rushed into the nearest room, the bathroom, locking yourself inside to keep him from seeing you like this.

“Come on, Y/N...”

Lewis knew you too well by now. No matter how hard you tried to convince him otherwise, he could see right through you, he knew you were struggling, and struggling pretty badly.

He didn’t do anything at first. He didn’t know what to do. He was afraid that whatever he said or did might only make things worse, might make you shut down even more. Instead, he rested his forehead against the closed door, feeling defeated, thinking of ways to make you feel worthy enough to stop torturing yourself over what strangers were saying online, people who knew nothing about your relationship and even less about you.

Eventually, you decided to come out. Lewis saw you, completely defeated, and he cursed himself for letting things get to this point. What had he done wrong to make you feel this way? God, you were just a girl in your early twenties who had recently made the leap to Hollywood stardom after moving to Los Angeles at sixteen, waiting tables in a run-down bar, and facing countless failed auditions until you finally landed the role that changed everything.

“Hey, love,” Lewis spoke as gently as possible, his eyes scanning your red-rimmed ones and your tangled hair. “What’s wrong?”

He knew exactly what was wrong, but he wanted you to be the one to speak, to let it all out.

You took a deep breath and pointed at your phone, still lying on the floor. A nervous knot tightened in your stomach, and your hands began to fidget anxiously. As if on cue, tears started streaming down your face once more.

“I just… I don’t understand why they have to be like this. What did I do to deserve this? Am I not good enough? Not pretty enough for you?”

Lewis sighed. He had known from the beginning that not everyone would accept your relationship, but the amount of hate you were facing was beyond excessive. He was exhausted by the senseless comments and social media accounts created solely to spew hate at you. And even more, he was tired of becoming tabloid fodder, followed everywhere by paparazzi eager to capture any moment they could.

Seeing you like this hurt him in ways he couldn’t even describe, and it made him feel miserable.

“Hey, Y/N… look at me.”

Despite speaking to you firmly and holding your hand, gently rubbing your skin with his thumb to calm you down, you didn’t respond. Lewis then cupped your chin delicately, forcing you to look at him.

“I know I’ve told you this a thousand times, and I also know that with how stubborn you are, you probably won’t listen to me, but don’t let what they say about you bother you,” he wanted to say, but all he really cared about was you. “What matters is that I love you, okay?”

“But... why does it have to affect me? Why did I used to not care about anything, and now I care so much about the opinion of strangers?” you asked, hesitantly, biting your lip in an attempt to relax.

Lewis moved even closer to you, wrapping his arms around you. He hated seeing you like this, especially when before all of this started, you were a light in his life, and it was him who used to lean on you when race weekends got overwhelming.

“Because you’re human, babe,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding you tighter. “Even though we sometimes say the opposite, we all care about what others think of us, especially when all they want to do is bring us down.”

“But... what if they’re right? What if I’m not what you deserve?”

“Do I need to remind you again that they’re wrong?” Lewis said, pulling you slightly away so your gazes met. “You need to remember how much you mean to me, but more than that, you need to remember who you are and all that you’re worth. That’s all that matters.”

You didn’t say anything else. Instead, you buried your face in his chest, once again crying quietly to avoid him seeing you like this.

“I’m ugly, Lew. Really ugly,” you confessed without lifting your head. “I don’t even know how you love me, or how you agreed to be with me after all those months we spent talking and hanging out as friends, or…”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t let them say that. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful, and you’ve always been, alright? Anyone who says otherwise needs to get their eyes checked.”

You laughed, and Lewis felt that as a small victory.

You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. For the first time in a long while, you pushed aside the intrusive thoughts, the destructive comments you saw daily on social media, and allowed yourself the luxury of, for just a moment, trying to stop torturing yourself and accepting that there were things you couldn’t change.

Lewis’s words, while brief and somewhat familiar to you, brought a peace you hadn’t felt in days. You did your best to let the tension in your shoulders melt away, slowly separating from him and moving your arms bit by bit.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Lew,” you whispered, once again wrapping your arms around his waist, wishing you could never let go of him.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Lewis chuckled, planting kisses on your forehead. “I’m never going to leave you, and I hope you’ll never leave me either.”

Neither of you said anything more. Your bodies remained close, exchanging shy kisses, making promises that everything would get better as you both talked about the changes you’d face in 2025. That was enough for you both to know things were going to be okay.

You both understood that the big, risky changes you were taking, especially your relationship, were going to be difficult, just like what was happening with you and the wave of hate you were receiving. But once you stopped giving it too much importance, or rather, no importance at all, no one would stop you as the newest couple in Formula 1.

“Hey, listen to me, please... I’ve been thinking about something.”

Lewis’s words caught your attention as you were starting to drift off to sleep in bed. You straightened up, your hand still intertwined with his.

“How about we take a walk, and you can get to know the city a bit?” he suggested. “You know… we could go eat out, hit up an arcade, or maybe…”

“Can you get me a stuffed animal from one of those weird claw machines?!” you interrupted him, excited, which made Lewis burst out laughing.

“Of course, I can get you a stuffed animal, or buy you all the ones you want.”

You smiled, and as Lewis went to the bathroom for a shower, you began to prepare for the day. That moment was exactly when you realized you needed to trust yourself more and, specially, just as Lewis valued you. Because if there was one thing you’d learned from him in the short time you’d been together, it was that, no matter what you did, you’d always be the envy of others, so you just needed to remind yourself that you didn’t need to feel worse for living the life you’d always dreamed of and, moreover, you worked hard to have.

[milessunflowers]

LOVE STORY

request (because my dumbass published before i wrote anything and don't know how to unpublish): hi oli!! i haz a request can you do a fic or headcannons or summin with yuki and a reader who's about to publish their first book? my dream is to be an author, so this is like... pure self indulgence haha. fank you >3< <3 -bear

to this bear i say 1000% i love this and this feels like it fits so well with yuki because yuki and author reader just feels write (very "you know how to ball, i know aristotle)

yuki tsunoda x male!author!reader

synopsis: yuki's beloved boyfriend is finally publishing his first book, the book based off of their relationship

author's note: so so excited for this because yuki deserves more love and he works so well with an author reader and ik ive said this so many ttime but like it does. anyways, bear, hope you like it!! as always, feel free to request!

he is literally so supportive of you

from the moment you presented the idea and then through all the long nights of writing

would bring you coffee if you were working late

made sure ate and drank water

he kept your spirits up when you went through rough patches like if your editor is particularly harsh

makes sure you are taking care of yourself

he will cook for you all the time and sit in your lap if you are having a particularly hard time writing

hes like a koala with his face pressed into your neck

it makes things easier to write (but is also so distracting bc it's like he's right there and you just wanna, well, you know)

he is probably more excited then you are when you finally finish the final manuscript

he cooks such an extravagant meal that ends up leaving leftovers you guys give to pierre

he is with you during your book launch

then with you on your book tour

he smiles so widely when you talk with fans, loving to see that you are the center of attention

not to mention how excited and enthusiastic you get when speaking about your work

he buys every single different book cover and in every single language

he shows them off to everyone because he's like "that's right, that's my boyfriend"

after the first month of it being published, he finally reads it

he didn't know it was based on your relationship until the dedication at the beginning

it read: to the love of my life, my rock, yuki. thank you for supporting me through everything. i love you

he literally cries when he first reads it

literally sobbing

you find him crying and are so confused

like why is he crying?

hugs you tightly and explains how much he loves you too

that night is wild. let's just say he is more giddy then he had ever been

if you ever need inspiration for a sequel, he helps you brainstorm

basically it goes: think, write, eat, cuddle (more than cuddle most of the time), sleep, repeat

you sequel is even better then the first

and you owe it all to your wonderful, short, boyfriend

TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo

[daemonbrain]

when I say i GASPED the moment i saw a new chapter hello? Still sososososososo traumatized from ch 12 but wtv!!! Your writing literally makes me lose my marbles. I see an update and I literally plan my little sit down to read bro tumblr is sm fun. Quite literally i think this fic made me give tumblr fics more chances and read around. like how r u so awesome ma'am??

His tresses looked tangled in its dripping state. A towel covered his belly and thighs, skin still damp. And his skin, his skin was burned. Were once you remembered both faint and deep cuts rested, now rested there was thick and textured marks.

So what if they just..... made more babies....

"It pleases me," he blurts, stroking your hair, "thank you."

this little ho should be BEGGING ON HIS KNEES FOR THIS OPPORTUNITY

He clenches his teeth, trying not to sound so sour as he speaks. He fails, "you write to him oft?"

mhm she wrote to you often too babe but we all know how that worked out 😊😊

"I... I want to be civil with you." His nostrils flare as he chuckles dryly. "I do not want to be at war with you." "But we are!" Daemon blurts, "love is war." "Says who?" you knit your brows. "Says my bleeding heart," he mutters, as he fixes his doublet himself. His eyes begin to water, so he turns away.

ur so good with writing whipped daemon like I loveeeeeee. He's such a selfish guy it drives me insane but i love reading it

You rub your belly, "we will be sending our Alaeric and Alyrie off."

DON'T NOT WITH TEH BELLY JUST NO WHY. WHY. SHE DESERVED HER BABIES SHE LITERALLY WOULDVE BEEN THE BEST MOM I CANT. You stabbed me. You stabbed me and i KNOW you enjoyed it. GO AHEAD AND TWIST THE KNIFE EVEN MORE YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO (pls don't you scare me)

Daemon grits his teeth, looking over his shoulder. He turns to you then his brother, "visagon aōha tresy." Control your son.

The prince takes a deep breath, eyes fixed upon his children, "dracarys."

"In any case," you wipe your philtrum, "I am glad to have a friend."

THANK YOU FOR FINALLY GIVING MY GIRL A FRIEND LIKE

Anyways loved the update, tyvm for this lovely little labor of love. Your writing always paints such a good picture which really makes you feel the nice awesome super cool great gut-wrenching feeling for my fav hightower twin. Take care of yourself, drink lots of water, have fun etc etc!!!!!!

Tormented Spirit | 16

Part 1 [...] 14 15 16 17

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, violence, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: guys we're just gonna roll with the fact daemon knows how to braid hair realllly well ok stfu. also ASHFOASF long time no see i hope you enjoyyy!!!!!! | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

You find it hard to dress yourself for your clothes were far too heavy for you. What's more, they looked like they were eating you alive with how much weight you've lost. Your sister offered to have new dresses commissioned for you, but the moment your father caught wind of it, he made sure to send away any tailor that would fit you, insisting that you would regain your weight. You only did after Aegon was born, but as it remains, you look odd in your ill-fitting garbs.

By the time you are finished dressing yourself, you stare at your reflection. Black suited you, you think... it made the little color that remained on your face pop up.

Daemon emerges from the bathroom as you were about to fix your hair. His tresses looked tangled in its dripping state. A towel covered his belly and thighs, skin still damp. And his skin, his skin was burned. Were once you remembered both faint and deep cuts rested, now rested there was thick and textured marks.

"Dae-" you start but immediately stop when he heads straight towards his closet, hastily moving to dress himself.

You fidget with your fingers, unsure if you ought to help, approach, or even speak. You stare at him, hoping he'd acknowledge you. He doesn't.

You sigh and slowly walk to your vanity, though your eyes remain on him. He spares you a look, immediately looking away when he catches you staring. He puts on his breeches and pulls his towel off. He ties its laces, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. It wasn't. In fact, it was not even an easy feat, as his hands were trembling.

You don't notice that exactly, but you do notice his frantic movements which were so unlike him. You wonder if it was consequence war, and you find yourself pretending not to notice in case it was the case. The last thing you wanted was to trigger him today of all days. You wanted the day you send off your children to be peaceful for the both of you.

You walk sit before your mirror, eyes on your reflection as you comb your hair. Your gaze keeps flickering back to Daemon though.

He notices, and can hardly bare it. He haphazardly puts on his dress shirt then grabs his doublet, pacing across the room. He shudders as he chucks his towel on the bed. He huffs and leans on the table where an ewer of wine laid. He chucks his top on the surface beside it and pours himself a drink.

His aim is poor. Red sputters on the table due to his shaky grip. He nearly makes the cup overflow, but manages to control himself. Quickly, the prince downs the alcohol, but it seems to do nothing for his nerves, and absolutely nothing for the maddening nightmare that was torturing him so greatly.

In truth, he did not know if he quivered out of fear or anger because of it. He did not know which part haunted him more, the fact that his subconscious thought this up, or the fact that it might be true.

He gasps when he hears his name. He sets his cup down with a thud and turns over his shoulder. He scratches his eyes as he looks at you, face shining though your brows were furrowed.

"A-are... are you-"

"It's nothing," he quips, stuffing his dress shirt into his trousers.

You shift on your chair to face him and frown, "Daemon."

He freezes, jaw clenching with an unwillingness to confess what was torturing him.

You see his steely gaze and his tensed shoulders. You knew better than to pursue an uncomfortable conversation with him right now, so you lower your gaze and slowly shake your head, "I... I simply wanted to ask if you would help braid my hair."

He freezes, "what?"

"I thought it would be good to-"

Daemon grabs his doublet and hastily wears it, nearly sprinting towards you.

"- have you..." your breath hitches. You look at him through his reflection as he comes behind you, "... do it in the fashion of your house."

His hands tremble as he reaches for your hair.

"... if... it pleases you."

"It pleases me," he blurts, stroking your hair, "thank you."

You shake my head and sigh, "I-... thank you." You lower your gaze to your hands, "might I write while you do this?"

Daemon's brows furrow as you apprehensively turn to him. He shakes his head but then nods, "o... of course."

You watch him reach for the comb.

He feels its weight before shaking his head again, "wh... to whom?"

"My twin," you say simply, opening the drawer to pull out some parchment and ink. Your eyes slowly look at his reflection as you get your quill and shut the drawer.

Daemon nods. He grips the comb and shrugs. He shakes his head before gathering your locks and brushing through it. He clenches his teeth, trying not to sound so sour as he speaks. He fails, "you write to him oft?"

You nearly tell him everyday, but you change it to: "yes."

He notices that you had two pieces of parchment on your table. He cannot help the jealousy that blooms at the idea of you writing long letters for him. "Much to say, have you?"

Your eyes flicker up to him.

Daemon does not look at you as he parts your hair and begins braiding.

"What?"

"You have two pieces of parchment."

"Oh..." you look back to the table, not thinking he'd notice, "the other is for Laenor."

He freezes.

"I do not write to him as oft," you mutter.

Daemon cannot help the sound he makes. His breath hitches as he gathers your dark hair into his fingers. He chuckles rather manically, "of course."

You decide not to reply. You simply leave him to his work as you work on your letters.

You finish writing your letters before he finishes fixing your hair. Daemon watches you fold the notes neatly and prepare wax to seal them off. Part of him wishes to enquire what you have to say to those wretched men, but another part knows he might regret it. Surely, to your brother at least, you would air out your grievances. The prince does not know if he could stomach the knowledge you'd express your hatred for him with someone else.

You melt wax over a candle and seal the letter with your stamp. He watches you do this, and as he does, he imagines all the times you did the same for his letters. He wonders if you did so with the same ease. He wonders if you paid it littler or more attention than this. He wonders if he'd ever be at the receiving end of your affections ever again.

When he gets to the last part of the last braid, he finds himself unwilling to pin it in place with the rest for your hair. He stares at his work, at the interwoven plaits going down your shoulders. He tucks some stray hair behind your ear, so badly wishing he could kiss you.

Perhaps he could, but then you'd push him away. He would not survive.

Finally, he pins the last part of your hair and slowly withdraws his hands, "it is done."

You immediately come to stand and turn to him.

Daemon watches as you look at his unbuttoned doublet. His stomach drops when you begin to fasten them.

"Shall I braid your h-"

"No," he blurts, shaking his head, "I do not want you to touch me."

You freeze, unsure if you heard him correctly. You slowly pull away, "you... you don't want me to touch you?"

"No," he shakes his head.

You knit your brows and nods slowly, "I see... why?"

"Why?" he whispers, as if he was stabbed, "why does it matter? Do you want to touch me?"

"I... I want to be civil with you."

His nostrils flare as he chuckles dryly.

"I do not want to be at war with you."

"But we are!" Daemon blurts, "love is war."

"Says who?" you knit your brows.

"Says my bleeding heart," he mutters, as he fixes his doublet himself. His eyes begin to water, so he turns away.

You feel your throat tighten. You shrug, "is this your way of saying you love me?"

"I have always loved you," he turns back to you, tears staining his cheeks.

You laugh.

He rarely hears such a sound from your lips and seems to hate it. "Mazemā nyke syt iā pirtirys?" he mutters under his breath. You take me for a liar.

You chuckle again and shake your head. You shrug, "mazeman ao syt iā mittys." I take you for a fool.

Daemon lowers his head.

You nearly reach out for him, but then you remember he does not invite your touch. You turn to the door then back to him, "let us be civil today."

"No," he lifts his gaze, walking to the vanity. He grabs a hair tie and does his hair, "I want a peace treaty."

"What?"

"The Stranger has scratched my skin in the Stepstones. I know better than to believe civility can be achieved between your enemies."

You laugh again, but this time, it is far unbearable. It is loud and anxious and broken. You clutch your chest when you begin to feel it tighten, "and I am your enemy, Daemon?"

"Daor," he says desperately. He grabs your arms and rapidly shakes his head, "dōrī ao.... yn nyke." No. Never you... but I.

You stare at him as he slowly pulls away.

"I have become your enemy whether either of us care to admit it or not," he shakes his head as he turns to his feet, "I cannot reconcile my mistakes; I can ask only for a peace treaty."

You rub your forehead as you lean on your chair, "I do not understand."

"You-" he chokes. He clears his throat, "you say look at me and see only grief and loss." He wipes his face, "I do not want it to be so."

You huff and shake your head, "it is not something you can change."

"Not if you don't let me," Daemon mutters, "kostilus..." he shakes his head, "ivestragon nyke skorkydoso olvie yno kostā mōzugon gō ao pykagon nyke hen." He scratches his eyes before looking at you. Please... tell me how much of me you can drink before you spit me out.

"Daemon."

He looks at you, violet eyes shrouded by pink.

"I..." you shake your head, "don't know."

He sighs, "plea-"

"I'm telling you, I don't know."

He sighs again, shaking his head then nodding it, "sȳz." Fine.

You watch him step back and motion to the door.

"After you."

You stare at him for a moment and grip your skirts tightly in your hands. You draw a deep breath before walking off.

When you open the door, you hear the clanking of steel. You see Arryk and Erryk stationed outside your door.

"Princess," they greet in unison.

You frown at them, "Erryk... Arryk."

Arryk's eyes rather unwillingly catch sight of Daemon walking towards you. He clenches his jaw and steps aside, not wanting to see him. Erryk ignores him altogether as he reaches a hand for you, "will we be heading for the solar to break fast?"

You shake your head and push his hands down.

Erryk's jaw feathers as Daemon comes to your side.

Daemon's gaze remains lowered. He mutters softly, "kesan bartos naejot se ripo," before slipping past you and walking off.

Erryk eyes him hotly where Arryk turns to you, giving you a wary look, "what did he say?"

You shake your head and offer a smile, "he said he'll be going to the pit."

Arryk simultaneously thinks how fortunate and cowardly it was that Daemon will be flying off. Erryk says it out loud, "so, he's leaving on Caraxes?"

You rub your belly, "we will be sending our Alaeric and Alyrie off."

The twins freeze.

"I do not know if Daemon spoke to the maesters about it already," you mutter, "would one of you go and check. I... I do not want to see them... not like that."

"I can go," Arryk nods.

You nod rapidly and offer a smile, "thank you."

Just as his brother leaves, Erryk reaches a hand out to you again, "perhaps you ought to break fast."

You shake your head, finally taking his hand, "I... I will be sick."

His brows furrow, "you must promise me you will eat something after then."

"Erryk-"

The shake of his head cuts you off.

You take a deep breath, "you know it is hard."

"Then perhaps you can eat with the prince."

Your eyes widen at the idea.

It takes a moment for Erryk to realize why and he quickly dispels the thought, "Aegon. With your nephew, the prince."

You heave and shake your head.

His jaw tightens, "I would never im-"

"I know," you raise a hand, "I just... I misunderstood. Forgive me."

His nostrils flare, "there is no world in which you could ever do something that offends me."

You come to life when you reach Aegon's quarters. The boy immediately runs towards you. You smile and lean down. He jumps into your arms and you tenderly pick him up, sealing him into a hug

"Aunt!" he beams, clutching your cheeks.

"My boy," you coo, embracing him fondly.

Aegon giggles, his little arms wrapping around you. You remain like this for a moment before he pulls away and grins, clutching your cheeks again, "play!"

You kiss his forehead, "actually, we're going to go outside today."

Aegon blinks, his silver lashes fluttering, "play?"

You rock him in your arms, "zaldrīzes." Dragon.

He gasps.

"Gaomagon jaelā naejot ūndegon iā zaldrīzes?" Do you want to see a dragon?

"KESSA. KESSA!" Aegon cheers in agreement.

With this, you head to your sister's chambers and tell her of your plans for today. Alicent offers you a solemn expression before giving you a hug. She says she will change and inform the king. You then head off to the last person you wished to invite.

"Come in," his voice is deep.

Aegon leans into you as Erryk opens the door. You step into the Hand's office and nod at your father, "hello, my lord."

Otto lifts his gaze from his desk and furrows his brows, "what's happened?"

You shake your head as he slowly comes to a stand. You rub Aegon's back, "nothing... I... I've told Daemon about the twins."

He tenses at the thought, eyes turning to Erryk, who stood just by the door.

"We will be sending them off now."

Sending them off? Otto relaxes when he realizes who you actually meant. He nods and walks towards you. He places a hand on your shoulder, "I am glad."

You gulp as you look at him, unable to hold his gaze any longer.

The walk is long and quiet, save for the babbling of Aegon. He was rather fond of his grandfather's pin, and reached out to it every time Otto got close enough to.

"No," Otto would quip each time, raising a brow at the boy.

Aegon, none the wiser, would giggle, thinking it was a game.

At some point, the old man had to surrender his pin denoting his status to the boy when he managed to get pull on it. With a sigh, he hands it to his grandson.

You immediately pull it away from Aegon when he tries to eat it. You quip with a raised brow, "no."

The sight of your babies on a pyre sends a chill down your spine. The maesters and Arryk are already there, waiting for the rite to commence. The sight is too much, thus why you fix your eyes on Aegon.

Otto notices your discomfort and comes to your side, blocking your view of the pyre with his back. He turns to one of your wards, then the other. He motions with his head, wordlessly beckoning them over.

Erryk and Arryk oblige.

"It would be best if my daughter have this moment with her husband," Otto says, "stay back unless called upon."

Arryk clenches his jaw and Erryk purses his lips. Regardless, they nod and speak in unison, "my lord."

Soon, the king, the queen, and the crown princess arrive. It's rather fitting, for right after, there is a loud screech in the sky. Aegon immediately reacts, gasping as his hands fly up to cover his ears. A flash of red soars overhead.

The poor boy is overwhelmed by the sound of beating wings and begins to clamor and panic. You do your best to calm him and instinctively turn to your sister, finding her clutching her swollen belly in worry. You debate whether you should hand her Aegon, but you decide to try and calm the boy, not wanting to strain her by making her carry the boy.

You turn to my father, who wipes his grandson's cheeks and strokes his head.

You kiss Aegon's cheeks and rock him, beginning to sing, "the fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red— shhh it's alright."

Caraxes soon lands before the pyre and screeches.

Aegon joins suit, screaming into you shoulder as he clings onto me for dear life.

Daemon sees this, jaw clenching at the sight. He watches Otto block Aegon's view of Caraxes, muttering something to the boy. He watches his sister come forward to calm the boy. He watches you rock him. The Hightowers are unified because of his brother's son. He unsaddles himself from Caraxes.

"DAOR!" Viserys screams, just as the blood wyrm cranes his head dangerously close to you. Rhaenyra gasps as he watches Caraxes seemingly try to attack. The king steps forward, repeating the command, making Caraxes pull his long neck back and screech back in offense.

Aegon shrieks in terror of the loud noise.

The king does not flinch, but he does turn to Daemon, "visagon aōha dyni, valonqar!" Control your beast, (younger) brother.

Daemon calls out to Caraxes, ordering him to calm and obey. He soon is on the ground, marching towards his dragon's head, "gīda ilagon!" He raises his hands, "gīda ilagon." Calm down.

Caraxes huffs through his nostrils.

Aegon wails into your shoulder.

The dragon screeches again.

Daemon grits his teeth, looking over his shoulder. He turns to you then his brother, "visagon aōha tresy." Control your son.

Upon hearing this, you glare at Daemon, "he's just a babe!"

Caraxes bleats at the sound of your voice.

"Do not be so defensive. A babe's wailing is meant to be annoying," Daemon rebuts.

"Here," Alicent mutters, taking Aegon from you.

"Ali-"

"It's alright, sister," she turns to you, kissing her boy, "I can manage." She turns to Otto, "might I have your arm, father?"

Otto obliges.

The two walk off, enough that Caraxes was not so close. You can't help but glare at the beast, though you knew any irritation you had towards him was irrational, as he was just a dragon and Aegon was just a boy.

Caraxes cranes over to you again, letting out another loud noise.

Both Daemon and Viserys call out to the beast, expecting the worst from him. Even Arryk and Erryk, who was watched from afar, grip their swords involuntarily and find themselves stepping closer as Caraxes pushes his snout into you.

Caraxes does nothing perilous but does huff. Still, it garners a corrective command from his rider, who comes in front of you

The beast makes a displeased sound, baring his teeth, frightening Aegon yet again. The sound of the boy's cries make you snap, "lyka, Caraxes," you call out, "skoros gaomā?" Quiet, Caraxes. What are you doing?

Daemon turns to you then Caraxes, calling him to obey.

Viserys watches his brother gaze upon you. He watches Daemon take your hand and reach it out towards his ride. His lips part as Caraxes leans into your joined hands. He turns back to his wife and frowns at the sight of his red faced boy. It was clear Aegon was frightened for you with how he was reached his hand in your direction.

The king sighs and comes to him, taking the boy into his arms. Rhaenyra watches his father rock his half-brother. He watches the boy sigh into his arms. She looks away, focus back to Caraxes.

Daemon leans against Caraxes. He mutters softly to him as he presses your hand into the dragon's snout. The beast is finally calm. You feel the warmth of his scales and you wonder if he'd eat you now that you were no longer carrying his rider's children.

Daemon topples back as Caraxes pushes into him, hard enough to brush against you. You gasp when he nudges your chest.

Your husband recognizes the affection and finds himself unable to bridle his own. He pulls you into his chest, pretending it was out of concern— to keep you upright. He presses his arm against yours, his palm resting on the back of your hand. He links his fingers into yours and rests your joined hands atop Caraxes, whispering, "he missed you."

You chuckle, looking over your shoulder to Daemon, "that's not possible."

Daemon leans his forehead against yours and you immediately look away. Though the sentiment hurt, he looks back at his mount and persists, "yet it's true."

Caraxes huffs and begins to curl before you. He then lies down, shaking his head as he did.

Daemon's eyes turn to the pyre, throat tightening at the sight of the two small bodies, wrapped up in cloth. It was no longer white, as time brought a brownish hue to it.

You look at him when he withdraws his hand. You watch his jaw clench as he looks to the distance. You pull away to place a hand on his rib, "do you want to go closer?"

His hand comes atop yours. For a moment, you remember how he said he didn't want your touch, but instead of pushing you away, he squeezes you. His lowers his head and licks his lips, "I am unworthy."

You face him fully. You shake your head and fix his collar, "you are their father."

You entire body seems to react when he speaks your name. Your shoulders tense. Your breath hitches. Your eyes water.

He watches you intently. He takes your hands and clutches by his chest. He frowns and leans closer, daring to press his forehead into you again.

You let him. You close your eyes and let him press against you. Tears rush down your cheeks.

"Would they have liked me?" Daemon whispers.

You chuckle bitterly, eyes opening. You see that his face is just as teary as yours. You sniffle and shake your head, "the gods only know."

Daemon wipes his nose on his sleeve.

You both walk towards the pyre. Caraxes lifts his head to look down upon you. Daemon frowns when he sees just how tiny the bodies are. He notices then they smell like the oil you put on yourself, albeit mustier. He cares little about the unpleasant undertone and presses a kiss on both their bodies.

When he pulls away, he takes deep breath and mutters, "kepa iksis kesīr, Alaeric se Alyrie... shijetra nyke... geros ilas." Father is here, Alaeric and Alyrie... forgive me... good bye.

Daemon turns to you, his hold on you tightening, "gaomagon emā mirros naejot ivestragon?" Do you have anything to say?

You step forward, biting your lips as gaze upon your babes. You release Daemon, immediately bursting into tears. You reach out to them one last time, lips trembling, "I wish you knew how much I love you."

You nearly topple back as you pull away.

Daemon reaches for you, one hand on your arm, the other on your back. He rests his head on yours, his voice is pained as he mutters, "they know," he shakes his head and presses a kiss on your ear. He whispers, "everyone knows."

You crumble. You turn to him and sob into his chest.

He wraps his arms around you, stroking your hair. He calls out your name, "I'm here now."

You whine.

"It would take sword and flame to sever me from you."

When you were calm enough, Daemon leads you off. He is vigilant of his surroundings but more importantly, you. By the time you and him stand far away enough, Caraxes inspects the pyre before him. He sniffs it and shakes his head. He cranes his neck back, looking at his master. They share a silent understanding.

Daemon has his arm around you as you continue to weep into his chest. He rubs your shoulder, looking down upon you, "would you like to give the command?"

You sniffle and look up to him, "what?"

He turns to Caraxes, who is already stood in attention rather knowingly, "I think he would obey if you commanded."

You shake your head, turning to Caraxes, "I do not want to." You face the pyre, wiping your face, "I've given them their sorrowful beginning. I do not wish to give them their sorrowful end."

Daemon clenches his jaw, "very well." He rubs your shoulders, "when you're ready."

You sigh, leaning into him, "I will never be."

He does not reply. He does, however, squeeze your shoulders.

You turn to him, a line between your brows, "when you're ready, Daemon."

He turns to you just as you look forward. He sniffles and turns to his mount, "Caraxes."

Caraxes rumbles.

The prince takes a deep breath, eyes fixed upon his children, "dracarys."

You gasp at the burn of the flames. The fire is so bright, it's like the sun stops shining for a moment. It's fitting, for that is what it felt to lose them. Warmth cascades across the ground. Caraxes screeches upon finishing his task. Aegon weeps again.

Daemon takes you back to the Keep on dragonback. He is grateful you agreed, though he knows it was more because you felt too weak to walk, rather than the fact you wanted to keep his company.

When he arrives at the pit, Caraxes squawks in recognition of the dragon that seemed to have just arrived, judging by the amount of servants and dragon keepers around.

When you land, hear a voice call for you and you look, not recognizing the voice. Daemon does, just as he recognizes the dragon.

Daemon dismounts and helps you down. You hear your name called out again, "who-"

"Princess!"

Your lips part as you turn to see the young man running towards you. You recognize him solely from his hair, "Laenor?"

Daemon eyes the boy as he bows. He eyes the flowers in his hand. Quickly, his eyes are averted back to you when you begin to weep.

Laenor is mortified. He nearly drops the bouquet as he calls out your name.

"Forgive me," you wipe your face and shake your head, "it is good to see you," you say, breaking into a soft chuckle, "to finally meet you."

Laenor gives a half-hearted smile as he nods, "it is good to meet you, though... I hear you have just come from the pyre."

You sniffle and nod, linking your hands together, "yes... I... we-" you turn to Daemon, "put our children to rest."

Laenor nods slowly, looking between the two of you, "my deepest condolences princess, prince."

You turn to him, finding he was offering you pink flowers.

"Bougainvillea," says the young lord, "I thought to bring you flowers since you wrote of picking them oft."

Your lips wobble and you sob even more.

Daemon clenches his jaw, reaching out to you.

He doesn't reach you though, as soon, you've thrown yourself into Laenor's arms.

The Velaryon yelps in surprise but naturally returns your affections.

"Thank you," you mutter, squeezing him tightly.

He chuckles, matching the intensity of your embrace, "it's nothing really, I saw some on my way. I'm glad you appreciate it."

When you pull away, Laenor catches the withering glare Daemon was shooting his way. He widens his eyes, only because he dares not to roll them, then hands you the flowers.

You gratefully take them, "thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I wrote to you just this morn."

"Did you?" his brow quirks, "you might be glad to know you needn't do anymore."

Your brows furrow.

"I..." he smiles softly, "... am promised to Princess Rhaenyra."

Daemon's brow quirks.

"Oh," you mutter, "oh..." your lips wobble, "d-does that mean you will be staying here?"

Laenor chuckles, "yes, I-"

He grunts when you embrace him again.

Daemon looks away and scoffs.

"That's wonderful!" you sob, "oh, my dear Laenor."

Laenor chuckles as he pulls away, "surely mine own company is not so much a relief from my uncle's."

"Careful, boy," Daemon snaps, eyes narrowing, "I respect you, but that doesn't mean I like you."

Laenor's eyes widen again, "of course, uncle."

"In any case," you wipe your philtrum, "I am glad to have a friend."

Friend... I could be your friend, thinks Daemon.

Laenor nods, "as am I."

With that, Laenor walks off and you turn to the Bougainvilleas in your hands.

"You write to Laenor about flowers?"

You turn to Daemon, seeing him grind his teeth. You nod simply, "upon his request."

He opens his mouth but then shuts it. Would you have obliged himhis request if he ever wrote back to you? He banishes the thought and turns to the ground, "you should plant them."

Your brows quirk at the thought.

"Grow them in your garden," he turns around, walking back to Caraxes.

You watch him caress his dragon. You mutter to yourself, "that's not how that works."

You wait for him to finish doting on his ride. You stare at your flowers as you do so.

When Daemon turns back, he sees you gently caressing the pink buds. He imagines you doing the same to his cheeks and lips; it makes him rapidly shake his head and call your name.

You look up at him.

Daemon's lips are curved into a frown, "I do not keep you prisoner."

Your brows furrow, "what?'

He motions with his head, "go."

You turn to where he motioned, eyes immediately falling on Laenor. You look back at him, "I-"

"He's surely famished from a long ride," he slowly turns back to Caraxes, stroking his scales. The dragon huffs, lying down. "I doubt you've eaten yourself."

You stare at him, brows knitting together.

He turns back to you, "go to him. Be with your friend."

You pull your head back, "I-"

"I wish to clear my head," he pats Caraxes, "I'll do it in the sky."

Of course, what he really wanted was to find solace in your arms, but he tries to convince himself flying will be just as good. After all, that was how he calmed himself before... before you.

"I'll be back before dark," he mutters, walking off to mount Caraxes.

You watch him climb on his dragon's back. You watch him as he commands Caraxes to stand.

You nearly ask him to stay, but your memories convince you to do otherwise.

You gasp softly when Caraxes takes off.

[saraaisfree]

Hi, I seen your thinking of writing 🙂 and I wanted to send in a suggestion. A friend's to lovers troupe could be cute and he doesn't admit his feelings for the reader bc they are in a relationship but when the reader goes through a breakup, he comes over and comforts them and they end up talking where he confesses his feelings. Just an idea, feel free to write whatever! Can't wait to read it 🤍❤️💙

𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖨’𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 || Kwon Ji-Yong/G-Dragon

Summary: After a bad break-up your bestfriend comes over to help you feel better. While emotions are high confessions are made.

(thank you for this suggestion i hope you will enjoy this)

G-Dragon, or as you've always known him, Kwon Ji-Yong, has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. From sharing lunches in kindergarten to late nights helping him write lyrics for his songs, the two of you have been inseparable. Even after his group hit it big, he never left you behind, always trying his best to be there for you no matter what happened.

It was a simple night alone in your apartment. You were waiting for Ji-Yong to finish his dance rehearsal, as you had a movie night planned together. While preparing something to eat, your phone pinged with a message:

“Hey Y/N, I don’t think this is working between us anymore, and quite frankly, I don’t want it to. Also, I found someone else.”

The text came as a shock. You and your boyfriend had been dating for almost a year, and everything seemed to be going so well. You were even considering moving in together soon.

Slowly, you made your way to the couch and began crying softly. Picking up your phone, you texted Ji-Yong: “I think we should cancel tonight. I’m not feeling very well, and I don’t want you to get sick.” It was obviously a lie—you just wanted to be alone.

“Hey, that’s never been a problem before. Did something happen?”

You read his reply but chose not to respond.

Half an hour later, your doorbell rang. Curious, you went to see who it was. There he stood—your best friend—with two takeout bags in his hands and a sad smile on his face.

“Can I please come in? You’ve never canceled on me just because you’re sick. I’m worried about you.”

You knew you couldn’t say no to him, so you let him in. After setting the bags on the table, he joined you on the couch.

“Tell me what happened, Y/N. Please,” he urged.

You didn’t respond verbally; instead, you showed him the text message. He read it a few times, his face darkening. Without saying a word, he wrapped you in his arms.

“He was a dickhead anyway,” he said, a slight edge of anger in his voice. “He didn’t deserve you at all.”

Ji-Yong had always known he liked you—no, he loved you. But by the time he felt ready to say anything, you had already grown too comfortable with him, and he was terrified of ruining your friendship.

He never liked your boyfriends, no matter how much he tried to seem supportive. The idea of another man hugging you, kissing you, waking up next to you—it tore him apart. He wanted to tell you how he felt, to shout it to the world, but he held himself back, afraid.

“I’m really disappointed, but not surprised,” you said softly. “He always said things like that when he was mad, but this? This seems final. I guess you’re right, Ji.” You leaned into him, cuddling closer.

Hearing you call him “Ji” made his heart race. The way it fell from your lips felt like a drug. He wanted to hear it every single day.

“You know I’m here for you, right? Always.”

“I know. Thank you.”

As you finally settled down and drifted off to sleep, Ji-Yong kissed your forehead and fell asleep beside you.

The next morning, you stirred awake in his arms. He pulled you back instinctively. “No, don’t leave yet,” he mumbled, still half asleep, before realizing what he’d said. “Oh, um, I’m sorry about that.”

You smiled. The two of you had cuddled a lot as kids, but as teenagers, it became a rare occurrence. It felt nice to be in his arms again.

“Y/N,” he began hesitantly, “I need to tell you something, and it’s really important. I… I really like you. I always have. If the feeling isn’t mutual, we can pretend I never said anything, but I can’t sit around watching you get hurt by guys who don’t deserve you. It kills me to see you like this. I just… I want a chance to treat you right, to show you that love doesn’t have to be this hard—”

You interrupted him by pressing your lips to his, then resting your forehead against his. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to say that” you whispered.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring yours with a hunger he’d suppressed for years.

“I love you so much, L/N Y/N. I always have.”

“I love you too, Kwon Ji-Yong,” you replied.

———————————————————————-

Yooo! First ever fic!! I hope you all like it!!

[illyrianbitch]

Wait can we get a storytime on the ex guy best friend? Because oh my god those TEXTS? Pls feed me more

hehehe okay, let me give you some of the main points baby i gotchu

We met freshman year of college (in a very religious school), I was freshly 18 and we were both in this student-run university residence hall organization. I hated him at first because I thought he was sooo conceded and a douchebag (and we were also fighting for the top of our class, we both had perfect gpa's and I wanted to be better than him so #academicrivals)

There was a retreat for our organization so we ended up being in hotel rooms across from each other. Ran into him when I was leaving one night, he followed, and we ended up talking while on this carrousel that the retreat had.

When we went back to school, him and I started becoming really good friends, I realized we had SO much in common. I ended up trying to set him up with one of my friends (I was....truly oblivious)

I was lowkey in love with another person my freshman year and this guy bsf would constantly give me advice, talk to me about it, repeatedly tell me I deserved more

Guy bsf and I got super close. We would see each other every day, and we ended up going on ONE date to the movies--- guy bsf said it was because his friend wanted to go on a double date and he needed someone to go with him hehe. Anyways, after the movie I ran into said other person I was lowkey in love with. There was this weird tension, stand off moment and I was so upset about it.

Guy bsf and I left, but instead of dropping me back at my dorm, guy bsf and I walked to the stadium of our university and laid on the grass and talked ALL night under the stars. It was like 5 am by time I went to sleep.

We became best friends after this, literally would tell him everything, and he was so respectful of me and the other person I was lowkey in love with. Guy bsf and I end up jokingly making a marriage pact at 35.

Fast forward to the end of the semester, covid was a thing and I had to fly back to Madrid. Guy bsf packed all my stuff with me. The day I was leaving, he gave me the biggest hug and said he was so sad we were missing out on like 7 more weeks of school. I left, then got a text from him saying I forgot something....I went back and he KISSED ME! Still the best kiss of my life, to this date.

I flew home, didnt see him all summer. Ended up falling for my (now ex) boyfriend. Guy bsf ended up falling for his (now ex) girlfriend too. Fun fact, his ex and my ex were both of our high school crushes lmao anyways. After the summer, I go back to school. Guy bsf and I immediately fall back into place, but things are off bc both of us are pretty much cuffed.

I end up deciding I want to leave school and move to Panama. I start planning. Guy bsf gets into a motorcycle crash. I'm his emergency contact, he gets a bad leg injury. I end up taking care of him at his place for the next few weeks. During this time, me and my (now ex) boyfriend are getting kinda serious so I start to make boundaries with guy bsf. Guy bsf breaks things off with his girl.

A month later, I'm getting ready to move. Guy bsf and I are preparing our goodbyes, he gives me this BEAUTIFUL letter on the night that I leave. Literally compares me to plato's forms of beauty. (You can read some of it below) and tells me he loves me.

I cry over it. It's the most thoughtful thing I've ever read, but I feel so guilty that I don't feel the same way. I also feel conflicted because my (now ex boyfriend) and I were getting pretty serious, and he was uncomfortable with my guy bsf giving me a love letter. I thank guy bsf, tell him it was so sweet, but we have a conversation about what our friendship needs to look like.

Long story short, guy bsf started to get jealous and kinda mean towards my (now ex) boyfriend. Lowkey, I shouldve listened bc my ex was INSANE. But I was uncomfortable with it and guy bsf and I got into a huge fight, had a huge falling out. He told me he didn't think I was with the right person.

4 years later, we start talking again!!! wohooo

There are SO many details here within 4 years. His friends telling me he said I was the one that got away, my own mother telling me she was sure we would end up together blah blah

[ruvviks]

The Dobrynin family is a corpo family through and through, rooted in Arasaka and Orbital Air going back by several generations; though their powerful position within the corporate world ends with the children of Nadya and Matvey Dobrynin. With Vitali and Daniil fired from Arasaka and Kang Tao respectively— the former indirectly getting his parents fired, too— and Roksana having refused to set foot within a megacorporation from the start, the family begins crumbling apart at the very seams when clashing interests lead to grudges, betrayal, and pointless acts of revenge. ↳ read the unrevised fic here if you're interested!

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @roseeway, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree;

@kanos, @swordcoasts, @ordinarymaine, @claudiawolf, @strafethesesinners

[intotheelliwoods]

gosh I need to draw the 2al boys in clothes more often-

This includes but is not limited too:

sprouts knee brace

poptart wrist brace (something new I want to try?)

sprout in more button up shirts

poptart in more pants... cargo pants and kackies me thinks

sprout wearing anything but jorts-

does a sprout on sprouts head count as clothes?

in general draw the masks more often

I NEED TO REMEMBER SPROUT HAS A MISSION FIT

poncho poptart poncho poptart poncho poptart

poptart clothes where the sleeve is sewn off or buttoned up or.... something

viking fits viking fits viking fits

[i-am-beckyu]

Writing for me atm be like this:

and this

and also this

Oh and can't forget this!

Yeah writing has been going great recently......

[strwbrymlkshake]

who up praying for downfalls 🤨

[olymphianblood]

ok guys its not funny anymore when is d&p hard lauching im starting to getting anxious /hj

[behold-its-something]

“IT’S OKAY HUMAN! YOU HAVE BEEN SO BUSY FACING NEW CHALLENGES AND OVERCOMING DIFFICULTIES. THERE WERE SO MANY OPPORTUNITIES TO GIVE UP OR NOT TRY BUT YOU PERSISTED AND STAYED DETERMINED. LOOK AT WHAT YOU HAVE ACCOMPLISHED! DON’T JUST BRUSH IT UNDER THE RUG, SILLY HUMAN. EVEN THE LITTLE THINGS WERE STEPS TOWARDS BIGGER THINGS AND YOU SOMETIMES EVEN MANAGED TO MAKE GRAND LEAPS FORWARD, IT LOOKED REALLY COOL WHEN YOU DID THAT, NYEH HEH HEH! SO PLEASE, REMEMBER TO ACKNOWLEDGE YOU ARE MAKING PROGRESS. YOU HAVE BEEN SO STRONG IN WAYS THAT MAY NOT SEEM OBVIOUS BUT CAN BE IN THE MOST IMPORTANT WAYS. CAN’T YOU SEE WHAT I SEE? SEE WHY I AM SO PROUD OF YOU?”

Sometimes I get really sad that my spark of creativity has left me again. I know it will come back and it may be in a different form or medium but still, I miss it. Haven’t been able to enjoy Undertale or the fandom like I used to, makes me feel like I’ve abandoned something I cherished so deeply. All of it still holds a special place in my heart, I just can’t access the same passion I used to have. Though, I can’t help but get a little emotional imagining what Papyrus would say if I apologized for being gone for so long and that it still might be a while until I return.

[allylikethecat]

the new all the kings horses is so good!! my jaw dropped when he switched back to thinking of him as matthew instead of matty because thats what he called him earlier when he didn't trust him. i feel so bad for matty though 😭😭😭

AHHH thank you so much for reading! I hope it was worth the wait and I apologize again for taking so long to post it. My body was being very rude and falling apart on me. Thankfully I think I'm better now (even though I did accidentally set my alarm last night for 4:30PM instead of 4:30AM so I was rather late for my 6am riding lesson lol)

Poor Fictional!Matty is really going through it. He thought he was giving Fictional!George space because that's what HE likes / wants when he is injured/unwell and also is absolutely shitting himself that he is now expected to travel and go to all these horse shows this summer. That's not what he signed on to do, he hasn't shown properly in YEARS and he basically got ran out of the sport before. And now Fictional!George is accusing him of stealing medication?! (He didn't by the way) and also for setting him up to steal his rides on the horses (also did not do)?! Like he thought Fictional!George loved him and he was thinking maybe he loved Fictional!George as well and instead he has somehow managed to get his heart broken standing in the aisle way at his place of employment.

AHH I'm so glad you noticed that bit about calling him "Matty" vs "Matthew" it was a switch that I know people noticed but didn't comment on when it first happened and I was so excited for it to flip back to "Matthew" when things went south. If you can believe it though, the outlined version of this chapter was set to be even more devastating but then I back tracked a little and was like "Ally chill." Thank you so much for reading and for the continued support! I hope you continue to enjoy this fic and that you are having a wonderful Wednesday and a fantastic rest of your week!

❤️Ally

[kkeke99]

Enough time has passed now, so I can finally say with certainty that the only good MLs of the Jewelpet Series are Akira Nanase and Retsu Akagi 👍🏻

[candyriku]

finally getting a chance to work on chapter 15 today :-)

[tellthemhowihopetheyshouted]

more in depth explanation ig, i dont feel like i can listen to especially poets without thinking about the whole paternity test analysis thing.

when i first listened i felt really awful and embarrassed and i couldn't quite articulate why

while im still trying to figure it out, a huge part of my feelings was (and still is) that the part of me that wants to theorize about songs and who they're about, and connect it to taylor's life and imagine what she wrote about is at odds with what i hear in the lyrics about creeps who want the best for me and etc

there are some songs im better at just vibing with and some songs that i just actively have to force myself not to be like "oh thats about x person and so they did this and she did this and..."

I'm trying, and if anyone has suggestions or things that work for them please send them to me, im new to this and to online fandoms in general. i feel so shitty but then there's part of me that still doesn't see harm in thinking "x song is about taylor and x person, so using what you know about them both lets picture this in your mind" and "oh [symbol 1] that must mean it's about [person 1], but wait now there's also [symbol 2] so it's about [person 1 and person 2] but wait does that mean person 2 could also be related to symbol 1?" all the while all of these people are real actual people.