#now there is NO excuse for that kind of mistake

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

It feels like hope.

Pairing: Hot Priest!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 5700

Rating: Strictly +18, MINORS DON’T INTERACT

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, priest kink, catholic guilt, religious kink, smut, unprotected p in v (use protections IRL!), reader has breasts and vagina and hair that can be pulled and wears a shirt and a skirt, apart from that no other description is given, age is not mentioned but they’re both grown up adults and reader is only inexperienced because she grew up in a very catholic family, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), sex in a rectory, hair pulling, blasphemy all over the place 💀, pussy pronouns she/her, drinking, two hits on nipples, improper use of liturgical objects, cream pie, pet names (angel, baby), reader calls him "Father" during sex, mention of hell, mention of porn videos, mention of masturbation, improper use of prayers, God named in vain, another thing that I won’t spoil... listen, this thing is filthy, probably the filthiest more immoral thing I've ever wrote, ok? If you think you can't handle it just scroll down to another story.

This is a revised version of something I had already posted and then deleted because I personally didn't like it.

It took me months to come to an end with it, I don’t know why, I’ve changed a lot of things, I’ve changed the pov, I’ve changed dynamics etc… I really really hope you will enjoy it and please be gentle with me, I really tried hard even if you would think it’s no good.

English is not my first language and I have no beta so any mistake is all my fault, I’m sorry.

Title is a Fleabag quote, specifically from our beloved hot priest “when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope”

Thanks to everyone who has shown interest in this story, thanks to those who were there from the beginning (you know who you are and I love you) and thanks to anyone who will read 🩷

(Just added a brief note at the end 😉)

It all started on a Sunday. 

You came to your neighborhood church expecting a nice function and you exited knowing you were doomed. 

That Sunday you met the new parish priest.

From the first moment you felt like something in you was compromised. 

You couldn't even explain it to yourself and you had never felt like this, it was something so unfamiliar. 

A need you’ve never felt before.

Your eyes glued to his holy form, adoring his raven curly hair, his scruff, the curve of his neck, his strong nose, plump lips, broad shoulders, thick thighs, big hands.

Courteous and kind as he greeted parishioners leaving the church, he shook your hand and you felt a jolt.

You weren’t like this before, you did things to do good to others before. But now…

Volunteering for every event, clothing drive, bake sale, children's shows. You were always there for the ride. Making excuses to talk to him.

Wondering if he had any more freckles than the ones on his neck, how warm his skin would be, how manly and intoxicating his scent would be, what his kisses would taste like, what his fingers would have felt like inside your cunt, peeking at the outline of his cock under his black pants.

A perfect Christian girl who would have make your mother proud on the outside, a raging hell of arousal on the inside.

You couldn’t believe that he was him who had awakened this new person inside you, insanely hungry, wanting, needing to taste, lick, bite. 

His low gruff voice grueling from his chest echoed against your damp inner walls so much that you were almost afraid to get up after the mass and see a stain where you were seated.

It was more and more difficult every time to fight your urge, stay on the tracks of life that you were taught to live, no sex before marriage, no masturbation because it’s a sin, no impure thoughts because you were a good girl.

Yet now you could hear them, all those voices crowding your head, pushing you towards something you had been taught was wrong.

Entering the church you were trembling, guilt pulsing in your gut.

Everything was quiet and serene, your eyes wandered on the frescoed walls, the organ, the large altar and the wooden benches neatly lined up in rows in the central nave, your steps sounded uncertain and timid on the marble floor.

You entered the confessional feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest, palms sweating and your mouth dry.

You could hear his breathing through the grate.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned” 

The following silence weighed like never before.

“Open your heart to the Lord so He can forgive your sins”

And you had confessed. 

The words slipped from your mouth like pearls from a broken necklace, finally rolling free between your lips revealing your every sordid thought.

The girl shaped by catholic parents to be a modest virgin, mother and maid, perfect smile and delicate manners was in reality a shameful bundle of filth.

You were a sinner.

A sinner eaten out from dirty thoughts.

You told him how you couldn't stop thinking about him, how you had questioned your feelings and who you were as a person, how you hadn't spent a night without touching yourself thinking about him in many months.

You told him about your desire to kiss him and more. So much more. Everything.

Every single time you lowered your hand in your panties, every single time you squeezed your breasts, driven by instinct and desire, every single time you thought of him as Joel. Just Joel, a man.

You just wanted to let go of the weight on your chest, coming clean. If you said it all out loud you would have realized how crazy it was.

You heard the door snapping, a few heavy steps close to where you were seated, the door opening to your side.  

Suddenly he was there, standing in front of you.

He said nothing, only grabbed your arm, dragging you to the rectory.

Dust in the air danced beneath the soft light that came in from two small windows high up.

There wasn't much in the room, a cupboard where liturgical objects were kept, a table, a wardrobe where the clothes for the service were hung.

Nobody was there except the two of you, you could hear the rumble of his breathing and your heart drumming behind your rib cage.

He was staring at you. 

Your mouth sealed, a lump in your stomach.

You thought about the day he tried to teach you how to play guitar.

You were here, together, helping with the Christmas party. He was sitting strumming when you walked in, you tried not to surprise him from behind by pretending to cough and he turned to you. He didn’t stop playing as he greeted you, you told him “I didn’t know you played” and he invited you to try. As you sat down your legs were shaking, he gave you the guitar and you just stared at it, fingers uncertain and mind empty. 

“It’s not that hard” he told you and he leaned over you taking one of your hands in his and placing it on the neck of the guitar, moving your fingers over the strings “like this. Now play”

You strummed on the guitar and an unpleasant sound came out, you both laughed softly at your clumsiness and a flood of pleasure slicked your panties.

His breath on you was like a caress, you felt the minty scent grazing at your nostrils.

For a moment, just for a moment you thought, “I could turn around right now and kiss him. A few inches and my lips would be on his.”

Your desire flowed before your eyes, leaving you with nothing else to look at.

“But I can’t. I can’t.” 

You've tried to swat away that sinful thought with another strum on the guitar but nothing disappeared, instead it burned in your core even strongly than before.

You thought about that day when the rain caught you on your way to set up the bake sale, how you walked into the rectory soaked from head to toe, how he looked at your shirt stuck to your skin that left little to the imagination, how you instinctively covered yourself when you just wanted to let your arms hang at your sides and let him look at you. You saw a reaction in his eyes as he mumbled that he was going to get you a towel, just a moment before he regained his composure, and it was enough. You knew that he was not indifferent to you. That night you touched yourself imagining what it would be like if he took your shirt off, if he placed his lips on your neck, his tongue on your breast, his cock inside you.

You started to navigate on porn sites daily, out of curiosity first and then because you needed to see, you needed to imagine, you needed to visualize something so unfamiliar and strange to you. 

You were ashamed, but at the same time you couldn't help it, it was the only resource you could think of looking for and it was there, on your phone, private, no one would have known. You didn't even imagine you would find so many, a whole catalog of big dicks, huge tits, positions that your brain couldn't conceive.

Seeing those women pleasuring themselves scared you but at the same time attracted you, you wanted to be like them, you wanted to reach that pleasure, you wanted to try their way of using their hands, you wanted to refine your clumsy way of reaching that heat between your legs.

You sinked into it.

If your parents had known, if your community had known, you would have been branded an unworthy woman, a pervert, a slut.

But your parents were far away now, your whole life was somewhere else and you were proud to have freed yourself from the golden cage they had locked you in. You were an adult now, it was the moment to choose for yourself. If they hadn’t always denied you any other vision of the world, if they hadn’t forbidden you to have the experiences that everyone has in their youth, maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way.

His mouth was a thin line, tensed, you looked into his eyes and you saw nothing than dark.

So much different from the gentle detachment he had always shown to everyone, his look was a mixture of concern, agitation, maybe a hint of fear, but most of all - to your great surprise - sexual arousal.

You could see him cracking behind those eyes, you could feel his mind filling with all sorts of questions.

His voice was barely a whisper but sharp as a blade when he finally spoke “Are you even honest with that ‘I am a good christian’ thing? Say the truth”

You hesitated, the uneasiest bitter taste in your mouth.

“I-” your throat felt like atrophied “yes” you tried to say.

“No, you’re not. The least you could do is being fucking honest with Him” he raised his finger pointing it at the ceiling.

You’ve never heard him cursing before.

You looked down feeling the weight of your stomach turn to lead and then concrete and if you thought you were free now you felt even more guilty. 

You said the only thing your brain could think of at that moment and you knew what you were asking for, you knew what it would do to him and you knew that in this way you would drag him down with you. And yet you did it anyway, because desire was stronger than anything, than faith, than lies, than truth.

“I need-I need to repent. Teach me” you pleaded “teach me how to be good”

Something lit up in his gaze, like a spark of hell, a glow of lust.

He turned around and you hungrily followed his every move.

His hands moving expertly, the cupboard opening, him taking out the mass wine and pouring it into a chalice.

You saw him down the entire glass, without hesitation, without a shred of tremor.

You felt like you were watching a hurricane approaching, just waiting for the wind to suck you in without being able to do anything else.

You wanted it. You wanted it to sweep you away, to make you someone else, braver, indomitable, someone who wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted because of a belief that had been instilled in her, someone who was simply herself. 

We are all born with guilt, you told yourself. I am tired, tired of dealing with mine so much.

You just wanted to feel alive, to feel something authentic and fierce, no half measures. 

You wanted to be desired in a way that felt relentless and desperate, like air that is necessary to keep humans alive, something unique and undeniable.

Could Joel read it in your eyes? He was so good at reading people, you could tell it right away. 

He had guessed a lot about you, he had noticed how coffee was a weakness of yours - and his - and he offered you a cup first thing in every meeting.

He had noticed how nervous Danny, a parishioner who liked to play the fool with any woman present, most often in front of his wife, got you and made sure to never leave you alone with him.

He had noticed how much you enjoyed sewing and had assigned you the costumes for the play and praised your work. 

And he did the same with the guitar that day when he saw how enthusiast and curious you were about it. He didn't say it openly, but his gestures spoke for him.

He came closer to you again, bending the chalice to your mouth and said “drink”. Sharp, cold, an order.

At that point you didn’t care it was something you were not supposed to do, forbidden, maybe unholy even, you just drank. 

You were dealing with a part of yourself that always existed but you had put that in a box.

Joel looked into your eyes sternly and said: “Show me the good Christian that you think you are. Pray.”

“What?”

“Pray. Right now” 

“What prayer?” You asked, confused.

“You're not starting off well, you should know that.” He smirked, caught you in fail.

“Act of contrition” you whispered and he nodded “yes. That’s right.”

He was just inches away from you, his crucifix hanging between your bodies, grazing at your stomach. 

You began to recite in a low voice, stumbling over your words, your brain couldn’t think straight:

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest… all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offended Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving all my love.”

You said it dozen of times before and yet it seemed totally different in that moment. 

Joel took off his rosary, letting it dangle from his hand and swing across your chest. Beads brushed against the cotton bra you wore under your blouse, making your nipples harden, you could feel them pushing against the fabric.

“Go on”

“I- I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen”

“Take off your shirt,” he told you in a whisper.

Something shifted inside him “and your bra”

His voice was no longer the same, it came from deep within him, frighteningly authoritarian but to you it seemed like a magic instrument that was hypnotizing you.

You did what he told you. 

You were half naked in front of a man for the first time. It could have happened before, much before, but of course you couldn’t because you never got married. No one was supposed to see your body except the man you were going to take to the altar. That’s what they taught you.

Joel looked at you, entranced, almost in disbelief. You wondered how long it had been since he’d seen someone else’s naked body, what effect it had on him. 

You were more alike than you seemed, both of you denied something because of religion. 

You were both more needy and frustrated than you were allowed to admit. Tension hung in the air like a fog that clouded both of your gazes.

Every time you had talked to him you had noticed the way he looked at you but you thought it was all in your head, like you were a poor naive girl who was building castles in the air, but now you knew that wasn't the case.

It was another thing you shouldn’t have done but you prayed deep down that he wouldn’t decide to stop.

He raised his arm, clutching his rosary. You felt a slash through the air and then a sharp smack on your nipple.

You looked down shocked as the pain quickly turned into a dull pleasure rising from the pit of your tummy, to fade more and more, becoming a tingling sensation.

You liked it.

You wanted more.

He did the same at your other breast and all the breath you had left in your body had slipped past your lips in a lustful sob.

He took one of your nipples between his fingers, twisting and pinching it and you couldn’t help but moan. A sound you never made for no one and you made it first for a priest.

His body pushed you against the wall, his breath on your neck, his fingers didn't stop torturing your nipple. Everything you saw was red. Red like the passion you had never felt before, red like the blood that pulsed in your veins, red like sin.

“Kneel” he said firmly.

You were equal parts scared of making a fool of yourself and eager to try.

You knelt down, feeling the cold of the floor touch your shins. 

His eyes were as uncertain as yours, it was new territory for both of you but you saw a flame burning in him and you felt it inside you. 

His face was serious, tense, as if he was ashamed of what he was doing but couldn't contain. 

He was punishing you and punishing himself at the same time.

You weren’t afraid though, you were ready to face what was eating you up and you trusted Joel for some reason. You could see in him that he wouldn’t hurt you. At least not more than you wanted.

Your tentative fingers undid his pants, letting them sag around his ankles. A pronounced erection protruded from his boxers as his eyes almost begged you, they weren’t cruel and ruthless eyes, but rather needy and guilty.

You moved your hand closer to his crotch, hesitating for a moment before placing it there, testing the sensation, opening your fingers around it to realize how thick it was. You could feel the heat through the fabric. You caressed it, feeling the tremor that shook Joel's body. Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away, it was the first time you had seen one in person, you were amazed and attracted. You continued to caress him until you heard a grunt leave Joel’s lips and a stain wet the front of his boxers. You were struck by how much he was growing under your hand and the smell, like musk, pungent but not unpleasant.

You remembered the videos you had seen, how women did it, looking into the men's eyes lustfully, with a confidence and naturalness you had never acquired. You wanted to be like them, but you were afraid of being ridiculous or grotesque.

You slowly pulled down his boxers, gasping at the sight of his cock springing free. 

Joel had his eyes fixed on you, they were encouraging somehow, he made you feel safe but the trembling of your fingers did not stop. You took his shaft in your hand again and were surprised at how soft his skin was there, velvety. You watched that thin layer of skin retract as you moved your hand up and down like you had seen in the videos, it felt incredible. It was heavy, hot and throbbing. It was uncut. His big balls hanging right under. You ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum that was leaking, spreading it around.

Joel was quiet, he let you do it.

He was touch starving, just like you.

You lowered your head and licked him, just with the tip of your tongue. A timid lick, like a kitten.

His taste, matching the musky scent you could smell, invaded your mouth in an instant. You had never tasted anything like it. You braced yourself, while Joel waited, and licked once more, this time starting at the base and working your way up.

Joel groaned.

You pulled away, looking into his eyes, he brought a hand to your cheek and then to your chin and took it in his palm. 

“You are so beautiful” he whispered.

And you felt beautiful, you felt like someone was really seeing you for the first time. And you loved that that someone was him.

You took a deep breath and lowered your head onto his cock, you knew you couldn't fit it all in your mouth, but you wanted to take as much as you could.

“Don’t force yourself” Joel murmured as your lips touched his skin, causing another whine.

“I want to do it” you replied resolutely, you were loving hearing him whimper beneath you.

His length slid across your tongue, wet and salty, your lips closing around it.

You closed your eyes and focused on that feeling, just holding it there, nestled inside.

“Suck it,” Joel commanded gently, bringing a hand into your hair and twining his fingers there.

You were unsure how to do it, you tried to suck it in as if you were using a large straw, with all the breath you had.

Joel flinched, almost losing his balance “Easy, baby” he muttered

You pulled away again, eyes widened “oh my god, I’m sorry” almost afraid of having hurt him but he immediately reassured you "no it's okay, just... go slower, go slower if you don't want me to come right away”

“Uh- okay” responding timidly to the smile that was spreading across his face.

You began to suck again more calmly, holding the base tightly with your hand, feeling it pulsate between your fingers and on your tongue.

It was an addictive sensation, spreading through your synapses like a drug.

Obviously you had never tried any drugs, but you imagined that the sensation might be similar to something like that.

Joel still held your head, his grip tightening as you continued, you could feel his body tense and respond, and you liked it. You liked it more than you ever liked putting on your Sunday best and going to say prayers with your parents like you always had.

There was actually a prayer that was ringing in your head and it was Joel's, who softly repeated "just like that, you're being so good to me”

It was exhilarating.

You felt like you had a true gift, for once in your life.

An obscene gift, but still.

You had the courage to run from your mom and dad and then at what felt like a minute later you found yourself there, naked from waist up, on your knees, sucking a priest cock.

You’ve never felt more alive.

Deep down you were exactly that person there, not a whore like everyone you knew would say. Just a woman, a woman who wanted what other women wanted. Sex, pleasure, being important to someone or just not being condemned to do what others wanted for you.

You continued to suck as Joel's breathing became heavier and more labored.

At that point he was just uttering disconnected phrases like “oh my God” and “Yes, go on”, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

Suddenly he started shaking violently, almost falling, as something warm and sticky hit your throat. You knew what it was and you were eager to swallow, as you had seen done in so many videos.

A little of it slipped from your lips, down your chin, onto your neck.

Joel's hand was still in your hair, it almost hurt but it was a delicious pain that you were enduring, a small punishment for the rush of adrenaline and excitement that was coursing through you.

You kept holding his cock in your mouth until you felt it relax.

“Get up,” Joel said gently, still out of breath, as he was fixing his boxers and pants.

Your knees almost gave out, you leaned against the wall feeling wetness on your panties.

Joel came closer to you, placing a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a deep kiss that left you stunned for a second and then you were more than happy to reciprocate. His tongue in your mouth explored feverishly, you wondered if he could taste himself from your lips.

He pulled out saying “I’ve never done anything like this before” and you replied “me neither.” 

And then he was on your lips again, nibbling at your lower one, placing his hand on your thigh, raising it under your skirt, up to your drenched panties, grazing them with his fingers.

You squirmed, moaning a “yes, please” from down your throat, a tingle spreading on your outer lips, in your tummy, up to your chest.

He put his hand inside your panties, brushing your skin.

“What should I do with you?” He asked, in an almost desperate tone, as if he knew he couldn't stop and was asking permission not to.

“Make me come” you pleaded “Please.”

He sighed, pulling your panties aside and sliding his index and middle fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness up to your clit, starting circling it as you writhed. 

It was different than when you did it yourself, his fingers bigger and stronger, his touch a little clumsy but still effective and intoxicating.

His mouth landed on your neck, stifling a moan, sucking a hickey where it joined your shoulders, nibbling hungrily at your skin.

“Have you ever done this before?” 

“Just…me” 

He smirked “have you ever put your fingers inside you?” 

“I- yes.” there were no point on beating around the bush, you told him that you touched yourself thinking about him. You were already deep down into that dizzy. 

“Put your fingers in me” you added immediately “I want to feel them, please Joel, I want to know what they can do to me” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes, yes.” You breathed.

He prodded at your entrance,  just a little bit, making you whine just with his fingers tip.

The rosary lay abandoned on the floor, you could see it out of the corner of your eye and you didn't care about that eyewitness symbol of what was happening between you two.

You would have liked him to put it around your neck while he fucked you, fully participating in that sinful act. 

You were surprised yourself at what you were thinking but somehow it made you even more eager.

You felt two of his fingers sink inside you, filling that void that you had never been able to fill enough on your own, stretching you. 

It hurts a little at first because they were bigger than yours, but then it was more heavenly than anything else. If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

Joel looked ecstatic “God, she’s so… wet” he whispered “and warm” His face was the representation of pleasure, lips slightly parted, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated, his heavy breathing blowing on your neck.

He began to move his fingers inside you rhythmically, each thrust making you shake and sob, a litany of “yes” coming out strangled from your mouth.

He went slowly, taking his time, as if he was savoring every second of your pussy tightening around his fingers.

He placed his other hand on your breast again, cupping and squeezing and then twisting your nipple. Big hand full of your tit.

It was beautiful. You didn’t know how or why people could deny themselves that, but you certainly wouldn’t do it again, not after having Joel inside you. He curled his fingers, looking for the right way to make you feel the pleasure you wanted, the one you kept asking for.

“You like that, baby?” He asked with an hopeful tone

“It feels so good, so good” you told him, clinging to his neck, digging your nails into his soft skin as you felt like you were losing your mind. You didn't care about losing it, your mind had ruled your life for so, so long.

“Please don’t stop” you murmured, tightening your other hand on his wrist, guiding him “don't stop”

You felt your essence slowly leaking out of you, spreading over Joel's fingers and your outer lips, you had never been so soaked, never so much as under Joel's touch.

Your eyes suddenly fixed on that little piece of white cloth that was around his neck, that little piece that made all the difference in the world and made what you were doing terribly wrong in the eyes of others and God and Joel kissed you again like a man deprived and starved, his lips trembling and dramatic, asking silently for more and more, like they were drinking from yours.

He was all over you, like a sailor through a  violent storm, he clung to whatever he could, as if it were a matter of life and death. 

Tasting him like this, the smell of his skin, his warmth, his clerical clothes rubbing against your half-naked body, made your head spin.

You moved your hand onto his collar, grasping it with your fingers, pulling it, until it came undone, you squeezed it as you came copiously, repeating Joel's name and God's, cutting off your moans, abandoning your head on Joel's shoulder.

It was all too much and yet not enough, you wished it would never end. Joel held you tight, one hand moving behind your back, as his fingers continued to sink into you. The blinding pleasure that had invaded every fiber of your body was raging like hell’s flames inside you, like a sinful but also purifying fire, wrong and right, heavenly and hellish.

And then it slowly faded, giving way to a sense of satisfaction that had never belonged to you.

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and demanding again.

Joel grunted, pulling his fingers out of you, taking them to his lips, gathering your juices with his tongue.

“I want… I want your cock, Father” you whispered, at that point you felt greedy, delirious, drunk on sex.

His eyes widened, being called “Father” was making him even more aroused and dizzy.

You grabbed his balls from above his pants, holding your hand tightly on them “please, Joel”.

If you were going to Hell for this, you might as well go all the way.

Joel pushed you against the table on the other side of the room, making you sit on it, unzipped his pants again, pulling out his cock without hesitation, as if he had finally accepted his fate.

His fingers were big but his cock… you wondered how it would all fit inside you.

“I’ll go slowly” Joel reassured you “It will fit” he said, brushing your folds with the tip, aligning his cock with your entrance, as if he had guessed your thoughts. His eyes were blacker than ever as he prodded his shaft past through your lips.

It felt overwhelming, so big and pulsing, it hurt but you almost immediately felt a fullness that you had never felt and a sense of belonging, your pussy opened like a bud, widening and molding for him.

If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

“She’s tight, so damn tight” Joel gawked “fuck” 

You whimpered, looking at his face, so serious, pleasure written all over it and you felt like it was right, it had to be right if it was that good.

“Make me yours, Father, make me good” you pleaded. 

Joel growled as he slid in and out of you, slamming against your walls, your pussy making obscene squelching sounds every time he moved, dripping all over his cock and the table.

It didn’t even seem embarrassing to you to be so inexperienced, you both were. You didn’t know if Joel had had sex before but you guessed he hadn’t had it in a long time anyway. 

You didn't know if it was the way it was supposed to be but you felt like it was natural, not like in the videos you'd seen which were probably mostly choreographed to please the eye.

It was sex. Pure and simple. Urgent, hungry, even uncontrolled.

And the way your body reacted, melting like wax under Joel's hands, arching into his touch, bending to his will, and seeking all the friction you could get, told you that this was the right way for you.

“See?” Joel mumbled “You’re taking me so well, baby, a perfect angel for me”

You twisted your legs behind his back, pushing him against you as much as you could, kissing the exposed skin on his neck. It drove you crazy that he was still dressed, you wanted to rip off his shirt and run your hands down on him, feel his warm skin on yours so you did it. You placed your hands on both sides and you just popped every button, revealing his broad chest, feeding your eyes with every single detail and your fingers with every shape and curve.

“Never had a cock inside before but that pussy is made for mine, I swear to God she is” he started desperately rutting into you, deeper strokes every time, taking God’s name in vain, murmuring some prayers while he pounded into you. You could feel his big vein brushing at your walls, his big mushroom hammering your cervix, the most intense rapture you’ve ever felt.

He pulled at your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye, murmuring “that’s what you wanted, huh? Dragging me to hell with you?”

Your eyes filled with tears at the thought. It was true, somehow you corrupted him, but you were willing to face that just to feel something so strong. You weren’t sure about him though.

But again, he was there, right there with you, with his cock inside your cunt and you didn’t force any of it, he could say no, he could stop, but he choose the sin. Now blaming you wasn’t so saintly nor kind, but you understood why he did that. He needed to blame someone other than himself, and you were there, open arm taking the weight for him.

Your ass slid back and forth on the wood of the table with each thrust, one of his hands was on your nipple again while the other held you behind your back. He then moved to your clit, applying pressure on it, circling it with two fingers.

You looked down only to see his cock sinking between your lips, his balls bouncing and the bush of hair that adorned his groin glistening with your juices.

You could smell the sex in the air, your mingling scents becoming one, your pleasure merging and becoming one as he shot huge spurts of cum into you.

He muttered a prayer, asking God for forgiveness, his voice exhausted, hoarse, broken by orgasm.

And then you woke up.

Your room was quiet, the crucifix that your mom gave you hanging on the wall behind your bed.

It took a few seconds for your sleepy, blurry gaze to settle on it, you were sweaty and shocked.

You closed your eyes, shutting them and cursing under your breath. 

You unrolled your body from the sheets and then stood up and picked up the crucifix. Your days as a good, God-fearing girl were over.

A/n: if you don't know what is dream and what is reality in the story at this point, that's what I wanted, I hope it's not too confusing but I wanted to try something new. I hope you liked it and thanks for your time 🩷

[perfectsunlight]

[25] TRENDING

warnings: arguments, major angst, public pressure, panic attack

"why did you have to make it a big deal?” ivory groaned as jennie dragged her through the crowd, frustration boiling over. she yanked her arm out of her mother’s grip, glaring at her. “it was just one night! one drink!”

jennie spun around, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and desperation. “one drink? is that what you think this is about? ivory, there were cameras! people were recording! do you have any idea what could happen if that video gets out?”

ivory crossed her arms, defiant. “i can deal with my own issues, you don’t need to control everything around me.” the younger girl protested, still clearly visibly upset.

“i’m not trying to control you,” jennie replied, her voice strained and pointed, “i’m trying to protect you! this isn’t just about you having a good time. do you know what it’s like to have your every move scrutinized? how one wrong step can ruin you? i lived through it, it destroyed me, and i’m not going to let that happen to you!” 

“i’m not you!” ivory shot back, her voice rising. even in the dark, jennie could see the emotions painted on her daughter’s face. “i’m not going to make the same mistakes you did. you didn’t even raise me!”

jennie froze at her words, the accusation knocking the wind out of her lungs. her breath caught in her throat, but she quickly masked the hurt with a sharp inhale. she kept her composure, but her eyes flickered with an emotion jane hadn’t seen before—something raw, something deeply buried that her daughter had just unwittingly unearthed.

and truth be told, ivory regretted saying those words the moment they left her mouth.

“i tried,” jennie finally responded, her voice quieter now, laced with a trembling vulnerability. “i did everything i could to make sure you didn’t have to grow up thinking you weren’t loved. i did what i could.”

the younger idol clenched her fists, her own anger mixing with guilt, but she couldn’t back down. “you don’t get to use that as an excuse every time you screw up! you weren’t there when i needed you. you were always off somewhere—on tour, in another country, doing fucking photoshoots—while grandma raised me.”

her maternal heart twisted painfully at jane’s words. she knew there was truth in them, but hearing it out loud from her daughter felt unbearable. her voice faltered, but she tried to steady it. “you think i didn’t want to be there? you think it didn’t kill me every time i had to leave you behind? i did it all for you, ivory.”

“yeah, well, i didn’t ask for that!” ivory shouted, her frustration spilling over. “i didn’t ask for you to sacrifice everything for me. i just wanted you! not the fame, not the money, not the gifts—just my mom.”

jennie’s jaw tightened, her emotions swirling just beneath the surface. she wanted to argue back, to defend herself, but she couldn’t. the truth was, there were times when she’d chosen her career over being present, and she knew she couldn’t change the past.

but it still hurt her knowing how much she had failed as a mother.

“we can discuss this later.” jennie’s voice was firm, her words cutting through the noise around them as she reached for her daughter’s arm, pulling her closer. the chaos of the club, the loud music, and the flashing lights all faded into the background as her focus narrowed to one thing: getting ivory out of there before things got worse.

her eyes scanned the crowd around them, trying to find that camera from earlier. but ivory quickly pulled away, her eyes flashing with anger. “no! i’m not leaving just because you say so.” her voice was defiant, sharp with the kind of stubbornness that jennie recognized all too well.

it was like looking into a mirror of her younger self. 

“you will leave. now. let’s go.” the older kim hissed in an icy tone, already getting near the end of her rope. “if that video gets around—”

“let them!” ivory snapped, cutting her mother off. “i don’t care what people think! and i could care less about your reputation.”

finally, her mother felt her frustration boil over at her daughter's dismissive attitude. “you think this is about my reputation?” she demanded, her voice rising in the crowded club, drawing unwanted attention. “this is about you, ivory! about your future! do you have any idea how damaging this could be?”

jane crossed her arms defiantly, her expression a mix of anger and stubbornness. “just because you couldn’t handle it doesn’t mean i can’t!” the words flew out of her mouth before she could think them through, fueled by a rush of adrenaline and resentment.

“really? you want to live your life? like this?” jennie gestured around them at the throng of partygoers, the flashing lights, and the chaos that felt so far removed from what she envisioned for her daughter. “you think this is living?”

but jane was done listening. she pulled away, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd for a way to escape. “i’m not going anywhere with you. you always think you know what’s best, but you don’t. you’re just scared, and you’re trying to make me scared too.”

jennie noticed a few heads turning toward them, whispers circulating through the crowd. people had started to gather, a few phones in hand, potentially recording their fight. panic surged through jennie, urging her to act.

“please, valentine, let’s just go,” jennie pleaded, her voice lowering in an attempt to diffuse the situation. “we can talk about this later. just come with me—”

“no!” ivory shouted again, her voice ringing out against the booming music. “i don’t care what you say. i’m staying, and you can’t force me to leave. maybe i’ll stay right here and let them all see what a bad mother you are!”

the weight of her words felt like a slap, and jennie closed her eyes for a brief moment, willing herself to stay calm. jennie knew she was a bad mother, it was something she had come to accept years ago. hearing it from her own daughter didn’t make it hurt any less, though.

“honey, you’re not thinking clearly. we can’t have this fight here, not like this. please.”

but her daughter shook her head vehemently, a sense of defiance boiling over as she threw her arms up in frustration. maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the years of pent up emotions finally boiling through the surface. either way, the angry soul in front of jennie looked nothing like her daughter.

and for the first time in 18 years, jennie felt as if she was looking in a mirror. except it wasn’t her own reflection, it was his.

“i wish i was never your daughter.” ivory spat, her voice loud enough to make heads turn. the crowd around them murmured, and jennie felt a knot form in her stomach. “so stop acting like my mom because we both know you don’t deserve that title.”

time seemed to freeze as ivory’s declaration reverberated in jennie’s ears, the world around them fading into the background. for a moment, all jennie could see was the hurt radiating from her daughter, and for the first time, she recognized the echo of her own past mistakes in ivory’s anger.

“you don’t mean it.” her mother immediately replied, eyes steeled and hardened against any more words her daughter would throw at her face. but ivory’s face twisted with raw emotion, and her voice was firm. her chest rose and fell harshly, clearly still worked up with emotion. before she brushed past her mother, snapping one final time at her before disappearing into the crowd.

“leave. me. alone.”

—

the video went viral in less than 24 hours. media outlets spread and circulated rumors and interpretations of it in every country and every language. everyone was asking the same thing: is jennie kim a mother?

jennie’s heart raced as her management team formed a protective barrier around her, pushing her toward the gate amidst the chaos. reporters shouted questions from all directions, their cameras flashing like strobe lights.

“jennie! is it true you have a daughter?” one reporter yelled, shoving a microphone in her face. “can you confirm the fight from last night?” another pressed, the crowd surging closer. “where is ivory?” a voice cut through the noise, and jennie felt her stomach drop. the constant barrage of questions felt like an insurmountable weight, pressing down on her while she fought to keep her composure.

jennie could feel panic setting in quickly as she tried to keep moving forward. she could see the gate ahead, but the closer she got, the more overwhelming the situation became. her team urged her on, their voices calm yet insistent, “keep moving, jennie. just keep walking.”

but her thoughts were racing in a different direction. where was ivory? the panic clawed at her insides as she scanned the crowd, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of her daughter’s familiar figure. each face in the throng blurred together, and the noise grew deafening.

“miss kim, please! can you comment on the video?”

“is it true you’re estranged from your daughter?”

“jennie, do your members know about any of this?”

she felt like she was suffocating, each question a reminder of the distance that had grown between her and ivory. “i can’t—i have to go back!” she managed to shout, but her management was relentless, practically pushing her through the throng as the gate loomed closer.

“no! we’re almost there,” one of her managers urged, keeping his hand firmly on her back. but with every step, the weight of worry grew heavier, anchoring her down. she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was abandoning her daughter, leaving her behind in a city that felt so foreign and chaotic.

“come on, just a few more steps!” another voice chimed in, but all she could think about was how she hadn’t been there for ivory when it mattered most.

they finally reached the gate, and as her team ushered her through the boarding process, she felt a swell of frustration. she wanted to turn back, to break free and search for ivory. but as they pushed her into the plane, she realized she was trapped—both physically and emotionally.

the flight attendants closed the door behind her, and as she settled into her seat, jennie buried her face in her hands, a wave of despair crashing over her. she felt completely helpless, torn between the world’s scrutiny and her desperate need to find her daughter. 

however, what jennie kim didn’t know was that ivory had taken an earlier flight right after leaving her mother in the club. and what the older idol also didn’t know was the mob waiting to crucify her daughter once she touched down in seoul.

—

ivory stood frozen, panic rising like a tide as the crowd surged forward. shouts and jeers rained down, and it felt as if the world had conspired against her. “holy shit,” the teenager muttered under her breath, pulling her cap below her eyes even further. it looked like a light show with how many cameras were going off. 

“form a wall!” one of her managers shouted, urgency lacing their voice. they quickly moved to surround her, creating a protective barrier against the hostile crowd. the team linked arms, shielding ivory from the hateful words and agitated crowd that sought to tear her down.

“back off! give her space!” another manager yelled, pushing back against the onslaught of reporters and fans. the team worked in unison, their presence a solid wall that blocked the chaos, but jane could still hear the shouts cutting through the air.

“why are you hiding behind your mother’s fame?” someone yelled, and it pierced through the clamor, sinking into ivory's chest like a dagger. “fucking brat, you don’t deserve jennie as a mother!”

with her heart racing and breath coming in jagged gasps, ivory felt the walls of her makeshift fortress closing in around her. the air felt heavy, and the shouting, combined with the crushing pressure of the crowd, sent her spiraling further into panic. the team’s efforts to protect her felt futile against the overwhelming tide of animosity.

“i can’t breathe,” she thought to herself, struggling against the tightness in her chest. she dug her nails into her palms, trying to steady herself as her management continued to shout for order. but their voices faded into a blur, the crowd's noise morphing into a deafening roar.

a few objects went flying over her head, thankfully missing her as the management team tightened their formation, creating a more impenetrable barrier around her. ivory’s heart raced as she felt the tension in the air escalate, the crowd growing more volatile with each passing moment. the sound of her own heartbeat pounded in her ears, drowning out everything else.

“i can’t do this,” she thought again, feeling utterly lost. the noise felt like it was suffocating her, each shout morphing into a mocking echo of her own insecurities. “why did i do that?”

as the objects continued to sail over her head, she flinched at the sound of something glass shattering nearby. the world felt chaotic and terrifying, and in that moment, the isolation of her panic attack set in. it was as if a spotlight was focused solely on her, and every eye in the crowd bore witness to her unraveling.

“stay with us, ivory! you’re okay!” one of her managers urged, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder, grounding her in reality. their presence was a lifeline, but the overwhelming emotions were threatening to pull her under again.

she wanted to scream, to lash out and throw things back at the reporters and people who tried to harm her. instead, she forced herself to breathe, to take in small gasps of air that felt sharp and painful against her chest. “just breathe, just breathe,” she repeated in her mind, willing herself to find some semblance of calm.

but the crowd wasn’t done. “is jennie your mother? are you ashamed of her?” came another shout, and ivory’s heart sank further. she felt the weight of that question, an accusation that cut deeper than any object thrown her way. 

did they think she was ashamed? did they think she wanted this?

tears streamed down her cheeks as she wrestled with the conflicting emotions inside her. it wasn’t shame she felt, but anger at how everything had spiraled out of control. she was overwhelmed, and she wanted nothing more than to disappear.

and whether or not she wanted to admit it or not, part of her even wanted her mother.

“listen to me, ivory! focus on my voice!” another manager shouted, pushing through the chaos to keep her attention. the urgency in their tone cut through her panic, grounding her even more. “there’s the door right there. the car is already out front!”

the brunette nodded, though the tears continued to flow as they began to guide her toward the exit. the crowd was still shouting, a cacophony of harsh words and intrusive questions. she felt a wave of shame wash over her, but she forced herself to keep moving, her management creating a protective wall around her as they rushed toward the car.

as soon as they reached the vehicle, her body sagged against the cool metal of the door, and she let out a shaky breath. the moment they closed the door behind her, the noise from the outside world faded to a muffled echo, leaving only the sound of her own ragged breathing.

but the reprieve was short-lived. as soon as the car pulled away, the floodgates opened. the panic that had held her captive in the airport spilled over, and ivory broke down, sobs wracking her body. the emotional turmoil she had bottled up exploded in a torrent of grief, regret, and frustration.

and a few short hours later, once jennie touched down in korea, she felt a different type of anger and pain watching the videos of her daughter’s arrival. the phone shook in her hand, her free one holding her pant leg in a vice-like grip. with knuckles of ivory, she immediately called her company while waiting to be let off the plane. the dial tone rang for a few seconds before the other line picked up.

"sue them all. every single one of them."

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CLOSED.

[thirtysomethingloser92]

If you don't take requests that's so fine please ignore me but if you do can I request a plus size reader/ Gambit. I'm just feeling a little insecure today and i feel like he would be a thick person enjoyer. Thank you, you're my inspiration

My Darling I'm so sorry you're feeling like that today. I hope this cheers you up.

You stared at your reflection, frowning as you tugged at the hem of your shirt for the hundredth time. No matter how much you adjusted it, it still didn’t sit the way you wanted. The fabric clung to your stomach, revealing every curve and bump you didn’t want to see. Your jeans, which had once been your favorite pair, now felt too tight, pinching at your waist and making you feel like you were bursting out of them.

With a frustrated sigh, you yanked the shirt off entirely and tossed it onto the pile of rejected clothes on your bed. The mirror reflected your bare skin now, and you couldn’t help but notice the way your stomach rounded, the way your thighs touched, the fullness of your hips. All of it felt too much. Too much body, too much space, too much of everything.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, as if you could shrink away from your own reflection. It was one of those days where nothing felt right. The clothes that usually made you feel confident and comfortable now felt like costumes, ill-fitting and awkward. The little voice in the back of your mind, the one that whispered cruel things about your body, was louder than ever today.

"Why did I even agree to go out?" you thought, staring at the mess of clothes around you. Remy had asked you out earlier that day, suggesting a casual dinner in the city—just the two of you. He had looked so excited, flashing you that irresistible grin of his, and you had agreed without hesitation. But now, standing here in front of the mirror, you felt like it had been a mistake. You didn’t feel like yourself. You didn’t feel worthy.

Another sigh escaped your lips as you sat down heavily on the bed, burying your face in your hands. You loved being with Remy—he was charming, kind, and always made you laugh. But sometimes, it was hard to quiet the voice that told you he could do better. That he deserved someone who looked like the women he’d been with before—slender, toned, effortlessly beautiful.

A soft knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts.

"Chère, y' ready?" Remy’s voice was warm, but there was a hint of curiosity in it. "We gon' be late if y' don’t hurry."

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t want him to see you like this—not when you felt so exposed, so vulnerable. A part of you considered pretending to be sick, making up some excuse not to go. But you knew that wouldn’t fool him. Remy was too perceptive for that.

"I… I don’t think I’m going to go," you called out, your voice shaky despite your best efforts to sound casual. You hoped he’d drop it, that he’d understand without asking too many questions, "Maybe we can just do something here?"

There was a long pause, and for a moment you thought he might have walked away. But then the door creaked open, and Remy stepped inside. He shut the door behind him quietly, his eyes immediately scanning the room before settling on you. His brow furrowed slightly in concern.

"Now, what y' talkin' 'bout, chère?" he asked, his voice soft but firm. "Why y' don’t wanna go?"

You avoided his gaze, staring at the floor instead. "I’m just… not feeling up to it, that’s all."

Remy wasn’t a man easily fooled, and you could tell by the way he crossed the room to stand in front of you that he wasn’t buying your excuse. His eyes flickered to the pile of clothes on the bed, and then to the way you sat hunched over, arms crossed protectively over your body.

"Somethin's botherin' ya," he said quietly, crouching down so that he was on eye level with you. His red-on-black eyes, always so intense yet gentle, searched your face. "Talk t' me."

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over. You didn’t want to admit it. You didn’t want him to know how insecure you were feeling, how much you hated what you saw in the mirror today. But the weight of it all was too much to carry alone.

It had been building for a while, this gnawing pit of self-doubt that seemed to grow larger whenever you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t remember exactly when it started—maybe it had been creeping in for years, little comments here and there, comparisons to other women who seemed to glide through life effortlessly, their bodies molded to perfection. Or maybe it was something deeper, an old voice that had always lingered in the back of your mind, whispering that you weren’t enough.

And today, that voice was louder than ever.

Your chest felt tight, your throat constricting as you tried to hold it together. The last thing you wanted was for Remy to see this side of you—the side that felt small, fragile, and vulnerable. He was always so confident, so sure of himself, and you didn’t want to burden him with your insecurities. You didn’t want to be the one who cracked under the pressure of something as trivial as your reflection in the mirror.

But gods, it didn’t feel trivial. Not today.

Every time you looked at yourself, all you could see were the things you wished you could change. The way your clothes hugged your body a little too tightly, the way your stomach wasn’t flat, the way your thighs touched. It was as if every part of you was magnified, exaggerated, and you couldn’t escape it. You had tried—tried to brush it off, tried to focus on the things that you liked about yourself. But those thoughts were drowned out by the louder ones, the ones that told you that you weren’t enough. That no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you would never quite measure up.

And the worst part? Standing in front of Remy, with his eyes on you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he must see it too. He had to. How could he not? He was gorgeous—dangerously handsome—with that smirk that could weaken knees, and a body that looked like it was sculpted by the gods themselves. He had been with women who were stunning, women who looked like they belonged on magazine covers, and here you were, feeling like you didn’t even belong in the same room.

The thought made your chest ache, the tears stinging behind your eyes. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. You didn’t want to break down and tell him how ugly you felt, how unworthy you felt. The shame of it was too heavy, too raw. But it was getting harder to hold it in, harder to pretend that everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

For a moment, there was silence between you. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes fixed on the floor as if it could somehow swallow you up and save you from having to confront the truth. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you, though—steady, patient, waiting. Remy wasn’t the type to push if you weren’t ready to talk, but you knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t let this go. Not when he could see how much it was hurting you.

And that was the thing—Remy always saw you. He saw you in ways that you sometimes wished he didn’t. He saw past the walls you tried to put up, past the bravado you sometimes used to hide your insecurities. He was always watching, always noticing the little things, the things you thought you were hiding so well. And that scared you, because it meant you couldn’t pretend with him. Not for long.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy in the air, and you felt the dam starting to crack. You didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want to admit how deeply the insecurities had burrowed into your heart, how much they weighed you down. But the burden of carrying it alone was suffocating, and Remy was standing there, waiting, offering you a lifeline without even saying a word.

"I…" Your voice broke, and you hated how small it sounded, how fragile. You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, but the tears were dangerously close now, and you knew there was no holding them back. "I don’t feel good, Remy. With me."

It was such a simple sentence, but it felt like you had just ripped open your chest and laid bare everything you had been trying to hide. You could feel the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes now, and you quickly turned your face away, not wanting him to see. You hated how emotional you were getting over this, hated that you couldn’t just shake it off like you thought you should.

But you couldn’t. Not today.

You felt Remys hands on your thighs, his thumbs drawing small circles on the skin, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a protective shield. He didn’t say anything at first, and for a moment, you wondered if he even understood. Maybe he didn’t get it. Maybe he couldn’t. How could someone like him—so effortlessly confident, so sure of himself—understand what it felt like to look in the mirror and hate what you saw?

But then you felt his hand, warm and gentle, on your arm. His touch was so soft, so cautious, as if he knew exactly how fragile you were in that moment. He didn’t try to pull you into a hug or force you to look at him. He just crouched there, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, grounding you with his presence.

"Chère," he said softly, his voice like a soothing balm. "I’m right here."

And that was all it took. The dam broke, and the tears spilled over, silent but heavy as they slid down your cheeks. You felt your shoulders shake with the effort of holding it all in, but it was too much. The weight of your insecurities, the fear of not being enough, the shame of feeling this way—it all came crashing down at once.

Remy didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just stayed close, his hand never leaving your arm, his presence a steady, unwavering comfort. He didn’t try to fix it or offer empty reassurances. He just let you be, let you feel what you needed to feel, and somehow, that made all the difference.

After a few moments, when the tears had slowed but the ache still lingered in your chest, you finally found your voice again, though it was shaky and weak.

"I just… I look in the mirror, and I don’t like what I see," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I don’t… I don’t feel like I’m enough."

Saying it out loud felt like admitting a terrible secret, something you had been holding onto for too long. But the moment the words left your lips, a strange sense of relief washed over you. It was out now. The truth was out, and you couldn’t take it back.

You half-expected Remy to brush it off, to tell you that you were being ridiculous, that you were beautiful and didn’t need to feel this way. But instead, he was quiet for a moment, his hand still resting gently on your arm. Then, he stepped in front of you, his gaze soft and unwavering as he looked into your tear-filled eyes.

His brow furrowed even more, and he reached out to gently take your hands in his, uncrossing your arms. His touch was warm and reassuring. "What y' mean by dat, chère?"

You hesitated, biting your lip. The words felt heavy in your mouth, but you forced them out anyway. "I don’t look like the other women you’ve been with. I’m… bigger. And today, I just… I don’t feel good about it. I don’t feel good about me."

There. You said it. The ugly truth that had been gnawing at you all day. You braced yourself for his reaction, for him to say something dismissive or to tell you that you were overthinking it. But instead, Remy’s grip on your hands tightened slightly, and he pulled you gently to your feet.

"Come here, chère," he murmured, his voice soft as he wrapped his arms around you. He held you close, his chin resting on top of your head as he stroked your back soothingly. "I been waitin' t' say this for a while, but y’ve never given me the chance."

You blinked, surprised by the tenderness in his tone. "What do you mean?"

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down into your eyes. His expression was serious, more serious than you were used to seeing on his face. "I don’t care 'bout that. I don’t care 'bout what other people think. Y' beautiful, cherie, jus' the way y' are. And I need y' to believe that."

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him that he didn’t understand, that it wasn’t that simple. But he silenced you by placing a finger against your lips, his eyes soft but unwavering.

"I know y' don’t always see it, but I do," he continued, his voice low and sincere. "Y' think I’m wit' y' because I want someone who looks like everybody else? Non, chère. I’m wit' y' because y' one of a kind. Ain’t nobody else like y', and that’s what I love 'bout y'."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from sadness. They were from the overwhelming warmth of his words, from the realization that he truly, deeply meant what he was saying. You had always known Remy was kind and compassionate, but hearing him say these things to you, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, made your heart ache in the best way.

"But I don’t always feel beautiful," you admitted, your voice shaky. "I don’t always feel like I’m enough."

Remy’s expression softened even more, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that had fallen. "Then let me remind y', every day if I have to. I’ll tell y' a thousand times if that’s what it takes. Because y' are enough. Always have been, always will be."

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, soothing the raw edges of your insecurities. It wasn’t as simple as snapping your fingers and feeling better, but with Remy’s arms around you, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

"You’re too good to me," you whispered, resting your forehead against his chest.

"No, chère," he murmured against your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I’m jus' tellin' y' the truth."

For a moment, you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside your room fading away. Remy’s presence was so grounding, so steady, that you felt the storm inside you begin to calm. The insecurities were still there, lingering in the background, but they didn’t feel as loud anymore. Not with him here, reminding you that you were more than enough.

After a while, Remy pulled back just enough to look down at you again, his signature roguish grin returning to his face. "Now, how 'bout we go out, eh? I promise y' gon' have a good time. An' if not, we can come right back home, no questions asked."

You managed a small smile, the warmth of his words still lingering in your chest. "Okay," you said quietly. "Let’s go."

Remy’s grin widened, victorious but gentle. "That’s my girl." He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before stepping back and grabbing his coat from the chair. "An' for the record, chère, y' look damn good."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at your lips. "You’re unbelievable."

"Maybe," he winked, shrugging on his coat with a flourish.

As you followed him out the door, hand in hand, you couldn’t shake the warmth that spread through your chest. The insecurities were still there, lingering at the edges of your mind, but they didn’t feel as overwhelming anymore. Not with Remy by your side, reminding you that you didn’t have to be anyone else. You were enough, just as you were—and that was more than enough for him.

[mariberrycake6058]

Hiii, I present to you my Gravity Falls AU: We'll Meet Again AU (I'm still thinking about whether to change the name or leave it as is)

To tell the truth, the lore is very long, so I hope that whoever is interested reads it completely and can let me know if they like it, I may make a comic about this.

If there are any mistakes, I completely apologize, my English is not very good and I used Google Translate for this, anyway, you can correct me if I'm wrong about something! I hope you like it and that someone sees it :]

⚠️TW: Mental disorder/problems mentioned!

CHARACTER DESIGNS:

WE'LL MEET AGAIN - A GRAVITY FALLS AU

In this alternate universe of Gravity Falls, Bill returns to town in a physic form after a long time of being in some therapies, but now with some changes in it, the most notable being their great loss of many of their powers, among them is the difficulty of to be able to levitate in the air, wanting recover this little by little. Seeking revenge within, returns to the village to put an end to what it started, but due to a fault "unknown" ends up reaching a Gravity Falls very similar to where he comes, but feels that there is something different.

Someone shakes hands with a triangular statue with only one eye in the middle of the forest, hoping to see it again, but there is nothing. He sighs and when he is about to give up, the atmosphere begins to get heavy, the breeze of the wind becomes strong and slight tremors begin on the ground, some small animals run around, and what he thought would never happen, finally gives results.

The one-eyed triangular entity appears in front of him, at first wondering what is going on, and upon recognizing that place, he begins to laugh and look around, he had finally been freed again, all thanks to... Stanford!?

But this was not the Stanford he knew, this one looked more tired and worn out than the one he had seen last time, how long had it been since he had done his job? Something was wrong!

Stanford, for his part, couldn't believe that the creature he hadn't seen in years had finally appeared before him, but... More different than he remembered.

—

STORY

In the past, at the age of 19, Stanford suffered an accident (which remains unknown) along with his family, in which only he and his brother, Shermy, were the only survivors. This caused him to suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder, leading him to live with guilt for the rest of his years.

Stanford, seeing that only he, along with his brother, decided that better, according to him, was to get away for a while time since he was not in a good state after what happened, also with the excuse that he did not want to be a annoyance for him and that it was time for become independent. Despite the Shermy's insistence, finally he understood what his brother wanted, being so they never saw each other again after that his family's funeral.

Stanford tried to continue with his normal life in a town called Gravity Falls, where many types of anomalies occurred, which were of complete interest to him since he was seen as a phenomenon due to his extra fingers on both hands, and these creatures connected well with him.

He met Bill after seeing a stone engraving during one of his investigations and, not believing enough in the existence of a certain creature, that same night it appeared in his dreams, it transmitted a lot of confidence, it was very kind and flattered him in a certain way, the nights continued like that and both came to have a very great friendship.

Until one night, Ford in one of his many crises for remembering his traumas from that accident, Bill appeared before him, letting him know that in the same way that he had also lost his family in an accident in his dimension. For this, Bill offered him his help to be able to create something unmatched that could "bring his family back alive", as if it were a time machine to avoid everything and be able to save his family, and this could also "bring Bill's family back", Ford who was still very naive, desperately accepted the deal to remedy everything and leave behind the guilt that gnawed at him daily, without knowing that what Bill really planned was to create a portal to be able to take over that dimension. (The canon thing)

Stanford worked with Fiddleford on the project, however, McGucket did not know very well what the purpose of this was, but he did not hesitate to help his friend. But the pleasure did not last long, because months after so much work, the truth came to light, although Fiddleford did not say anything at first, with the passage of time he reflected on the project and how dangerous it could become if it altered time, so in the end he ended up facing Stanford, telling him that he was so obsessed with his family and Bill, that he should give up and accept that they had died, and that he felt that this Bill was not trustworthy. After that, Fiddleford abandoned the project and they never saw each other again. Stanford finished the project by himself and as he could.

Having everything finished, he was ready to tell Bill about this, but as he approached him he could hear a conversation that he was having with other creatures which were laughing out loud and calling Ford insults and humiliations, in which Bill also participated, this being the way in which Stanford would have found out about Bill's true intentions, going immediately to close the portal and get rid of anything that could activate it, however, Bill had noticed his presence before, making himself present later to confront him and tell him the truth about everything, betraying Ford in the cruelest way with illusions and promises so he could see his family back. Full of anger, confusion, disappointment and even some hope that it was all a very heavy joke on Bill's part, Ford refused to believe what was happening, but in the end Fiddleford was right in that Bill was really not to be trusted.

Ford closed the portal before anything else could happen, Bill for his part became upset and cursed him, promising to return one day to accomplish his plan, he left leaving Ford alone, and he quickly got rid of most of the things that gave power to the portal.

Stanford fell into a slight depression because of Bill's abandonment, since he was the only one who could make him feel special and feed his ego. In a certain way he was still obsessed with Bill and with his promise that of course, would never come true. He made a stone statue in the shape of Bill and abandoned it in the middle of the forest, with an engraving on one side of the statue where you could read the lyrics of the song that Bill used to sing to it (We'll Meet Again), from time to time he would visit it and take the hand of the statue, hoping to be able to see him again, for what? Even he didn't know, despite the fact that Bill had betrayed him, he still felt that need to keep seeing him, he was going crazy.

Years later, Dipper and Mabel come to visit, they are under Stanford's care for the entire summer and have some adventures with the town's anomalies.

Some time later things happen and Bill from another dimension arrives in this different one.

Stanford has knowledge about the multiverses, and he knows very well that this Bill what has appeared there is not the Bill that he knew, and vice versa, this Bill knows perfectly that this Stanford is not the that he knew, however, he knows nothing about this one's past, and seeing it in that somewhat vulnerable state, "takes pity" slightly from it and gives the opportunity to meet him again, even if it is someone different but similar at the same time, in addition to the fact that by Axolotl's obligation, is obliged to improve his conduct and act for the good.

Stanford doesn't know what this Bill's intentions are, but seeing that he doesn't have many powers, he doesn't care, which makes him invite him to stay with them at his cabin. Bill initially refuses, but then agrees when he sees how useless he has become without powers, and sees the advantage of taking advantage of it to find out how to return to his "original" universe and plan his revenge against the other Pines (something that won't be possible for him), but of course, he doesn't say anything about this to these different Pines, although Ford has his small suspicions.

FUN FACTS

Here, Dipper and Mabel are already 13 years old.

This Pines family does not know what Bill has done in the dimension he comes from, that is, wanting to get rid of his-selves, them- from that dimension (The Weirdmageddon).

Dipper has had free access to Ford's journals, even reading the pages Bill had written before the whole conflict happened, so this Dipper doesn't trust Bill very much, but tries to live with him (forcibly).

This Bill is nicknamed "Dori" (from Dorito) or "Chip" by Mabel, she is more relaxed than Dipper and is even the one who spends the most time with Bill, she sees him as so dumb and vulnerable that she doesn't believe that one-eyed thing is evil, but Dipper still insists that she doesn't trust him too much. Mabel makes mini sweaters for Bill, she even usually puts band-aids of different designs and colors on the cracks/scars he has, so that they don't look so horrible, in her words.

Bill is bitter, but he tolerates the twins a little since they don't spend their time yelling at him. His only question is where Stanley is, however, when he asks about him, he doesn't get an answer from anyone.

Bill takes on human form from time to time, at Mabel's request because she thinks he looks less silly that way.

Bill gives Ford cute/embarrassing nicknames, and of course he also calls him Fordsy/Sixer, the first one leaving Mabel curious.

In a certain part of the AU, Ford sends Bill away because it's not free to stay at the shack and because the positions there are taken (he tried to fight with Wendy for her place but ended up losing). So here Waiter!Bill is born, as in that Gravity Falls the Weirdmageddon never happened, nobody knows Bill and they just take him for one more creature of the town, so it's normal for them and it wasn't difficult to get hired by Lazy Susan, although his attitude isn't the best, he tries to do well so they don't fire him and Ford doesn't get upset with him. (Last photo at The beggining)

Another fact that I didn't mention is that yes, the Mystery Shack does exist as such and is also a tourist place, but Ford is the one who usually gives the exhibitions of the things that are there, and when he can't attend, Soos is the one who helps him (only there are no scams here)

WHAT IS BILL'S RELATIONSHIP WITH THIS PINES FAMILY?

Dipper Pines.

A 50/50 between the two, Dipper prefers not to get directly involved in anything Bill is present at, he doesn't trust him, but he has to live with him at least a little, he tolerates him, although he thinks Bill has a very high ego and is kind of conceited, despite not having powers. He prefers to stay away from him at certain times. Bill also prefers to be away from him.

Mabel Pines.

What can you say? Bill, aka Dori/Chip is like a pet for Mabel, she likes to do it small outfits, their coexistence is good, but there are times when she should also moderate her personality with him, at Dipper's request, so that her wouldn't trust him so much. Bill likes him Mabel's creativity is like a very colorful chaos, but it is embarrassing to wear the outfits that he does it, but he has to agree so as not to hurt their feelings and to try to gain trust of others (which seems to be the case which will not be achieved at 100%)

Stanford Pines.

Their relationship is good but not at all 100%, because Ford has matured from all the events from the past with his original Bill, so which in any case tries to don't trust this Bill so much that appeared. He usually does investigations with this Bill and his human form that it usually adopts, making theories and expanding their knowledge. Bill gives himself the opportunity to listen whatever Ford tells him about his past to get to know him better. They may both have a better and good relationship after.

Wendy Corduroy

They both have a certain respect for each other, but they are not directly related.

Soos

They are not directly related, but Soos spends his time making theories about Bill that he only tells Dipper. Even so, he has a certain respect for him. Bill, for his part, notes that Soos is a bit dumb, but what else can he say if not having powers also makes him a dumb person.

[pinkchaosnight]

so here is my adar request. basically in which the fem!reader is taken in ep 5 instead of galadriel. once in adar's tent (during ep 6) they talk and get into a heated discussion about sauron and eregion. their banter gets so intense that glûg walks inside to see if everything is okay and then they both snap at them in union and then glûg whispers something like "oh no, dad and mom are fighting" idk something humorous lol. (excuse my grammar mistakes - English is not my native language). i need tension like air.

omg , tysm for this ask. its absolutely flawless. i enjoyed this ep so much! i have initially thought of doing a small imagine but somehow it turned it into this long, also i diverged from the ask slightly too🥹. i have changed some dialouges and scenarios. i hope you enjoy them!

pull of threads - (adar × fem!reader)

summary: dinner with adar is never straightforward is it? when especially you are captured and essentially sort of a prisoner?

(reimagined rings of power ep 6 where reader gets captured instead of Galadriel)

pairing : adar x female!reader

notes : english is not my first language, so i apologize in advance for the errors you might encounter. i have not properly edited, so please let me know if you find any error.

the uruk leader seated across you is poking his food with a vigour, as he regards you with suspicion. humiliation might be the nicest thing you can describe about what you are feeling right now, (along with some other feelings too but you blatantly ignore them) being captured as a prisoner. you were Lady Galadriel's friend and the her aide, until a few months ago when you retired from your post. everything that was going on was so overwhelming that you had to step away from your duties and that's exactly what you did. you travelled around, mostly staying in woods and forests and praying orcs don't chase you. you almost succeeded too until you recieved a letter from Lady Galadriel stating she needed your help, now that they are going to warn Celebrimbor about Halbrand being Sauron. you were reading her letter without a care for your surrounding that unfortunately resulted in you being captured and brought to the uruk camp. and thats why you were currently in this situation, being seated in front the uruk leader. Adar, he is called, as you recall from the days Lady Galadriel captured him many months ago.

the tent which was made up of dirty rags, was surprisingly warm, with a fireplace and a huge table laden with food. combinations of food that seems almost a disgrace to the plates it hold ; with berries, onions and meat. whoever did the dinner should be tossed into the cliff. the said uruk leader was now biting into a piece of meat from god knows what, as he watches you. if he is hoping to catch something from your expression he has another thing coming for him, as you keep your face as emotionless as you can, although Eru knows for how long.

" from my brief time in your Commander's capture, I guessed she was intent on finding Sauron. almost consumed by the thought of it, one might say." his words sliced the depth of silence that hanged between you and him.

" former Commander. and it is none of your concern what her intentions are. who are you to know her mind? you who could not even resist the allure of Sauron's words?" you reply in a monotonous way, hoping he doesn't find anything there.

Adar stops as he hears those words, as he slowly puts down the piece of food he is chewing. he remembers the first time he saw you; being chained up after being captured by Galadriel. all around him was dark but you came with a jar of water and a loaf of bread for him, when everybody was kind of neglecting him, except for when they needed information and torturing. that simple act of kindess and the conversions that ranged from 'hello' to a simple 'have a good day' that followed from your side warmed what little was left of his beating heart. he remember you being firercely loyal to Galadriel yet having a mind of your own to speak if necessary. he remembers how you disagreed when your commander spoke of his children as slaves. and above all, he remembers how you exuded a sense of warmth in that cold space.

now he looks at you in surprise as he leans forward "former?"

you squirm uncomfortably in your seat. after all, how could you let him know that one of the reasons why you left the army and being her secondin command, was his words? the converstion between him, Lady Galadriel and you, when he was captured really messed up your perceptive. other elves could not see but you saw what he was trying to say; that the uruks were just as worthy of lives and living as other creations of Eru, as each had a heart. you remember disagreeing with Lady Galadriel when she mentioned them as slaves, and Adar's eyes flashing in you direction, with ambiguous emotions.

shaking out of your reverie you say "yes, i am no longer her second in command, so its really useless to have me captured in here. i can offer you nothing. "

adar chuckles at your statement, as he rises from his seat and strides towards you. he stops infront of your chair, as he looks at you with an intense stare. and you couldn't help but stare back at him. those eyes, surrounded by scars and years of mutilation, made your heart ache with pain. you wonder what he was thinking, what he was plotting behind those somber eyes of his. you always wondered what happened to him after you ran away from the campsite that day. you retired and wandered in woods after that incident, with nothing to keep you company but fragments of him in your memory. love and hatred have a fine line separating them; you often heard from your friends and in those lonely nights on the woods you wandered if that is true. if you can cross that line with bravery. something that you are afraid to reveal to anyone. he was the one in your mind and on the other side of that fine line, as swirls of feeling wound up in your heart. a dangerous feeling to have for man who is going to kill you......one day.

"who says you can offer me nothing?" he says as he strides close to your face and tucks a strand of hair back. funny he did that because you had the same thought too, of brushing the loose hair of his and tucking it back. "my children found this in your bag" he says as he pulls out the scroll from a table behind you. "we know the elven army is approaching to find Sauron, in Eregion. And that has all the confirmation i want. and i know Halbrand is Sauron"

desperation washes over you as you see the scroll of paper Lady Galadriel wrote and gave you to read before she parted ways. you never got a chance to read the rest of paper as she and you went seprate ways, before you got caught by his minions.

" whatever your plan is, it is not going to work " you say with venom, as you stand up in anger (or so you thought stubbornly), coming face to face with him.

"do you know what Sauron promised me? " Adar asks you as he studies your expression flits from anger to confusion "children, he promised me children. and he made that promise into weapons of wars, my children mere tools for his gratifications, something which can be eradicated at his whims" he says, his voice a tad quite and flushed with sadness. it took all my willpower to keep my hands from reaching his and comforting him.

" you are going to kill him Eregion, aren't you?" i ask as realisation hits me a few seconds later. he moves back a few paces, widening the tantalizing distance betweeen us and doesn't reply as he keeps his back to me.

" you cannot, i think it is his plan too. i just have feeling in my heart this is exactly what he wants. for you to lead your army to him. we must ask Lady Galadriel's advice" i say as he turns and shoots me a look of disbelief.

"why should i listen to the words of someone whose race is hellbent on eradicating us from the face of this plane?" he shouts as he paces towards you, shaking with anger. "i did not capture you to hear your advice. Eregion will fall and Sauron with it" he says as closes the distance between us, trapping me between the chair and him.

"i want Sauron to fall too, i want to kill him and make sure he is permanently wiped off from this earth. but not in this way." i shriek in his face, which was merely inches apart from mine.

"i do not know why you care if i lead my army or not " he hisses as he moves back from me again, his eyes capturing my own ones in anger and perhaps sadness.

there is a tipping point for everyone's anger and you could feel his words pushing you to yours. you could no longer hold the feelings erupting inside you as you shouts." i care because this will all be ending in blooshed. i care because all my loved ones are going there and i don't want them to die. i care for the lives that will be sacrificed if you chose to follow this foolish plan of yours. and i care that something will happen to you and you will not make it out alive"

reality of the words registers in your brain as soon as the words escape your mouth. you have opened your heart and mouth and let all the dam of emotions you kept inside to turn into a river. and now you are going to suffer the consequences, preferably being submerged in those same waters, which you so kept in binds inside your now erratically beating organ.

Adar was stunned, staring at you in utter silence. his heart tingled, with the same warmth he felt months ago in your presence. his ears has always been the receiver of abuse and bad news, never the object to receive the sentiment with which you uttered the words quite a few seconds ago; words with care...and love. he slowly steps forward you, his hands unclenching from the remnant of his anger and reaching towards your face "you ....care about me.....?" his voice is a mere whisper, tinged with something you couldn't place. this goddess, this beacon of kindness care about him?

you wanted to melt into those eyes of his, that is oh so mysterious and perhaps you would have, if the tents did not flap open suddenly.

" lord father, glûg here. i heard shouts coming from outside. i was worried and just came inside to check if you are okay and if nan--" glûg stops as he sees you standing closely to his lord father. you notice his surprise being replaced with a slight smirk in your direction.

"get out" adar and you both says in unison, as you turn towards the orc in annoyance.

"certainly lord father" glûg says as turns away to exit "just lover's quarrel, lord father and naneth better make up". he exits as quickly as he can, muttering to himself.

you turn your head towards him, only to catch his eyes searching your face "yes i do care about you...." your voice is shaking but not in anger and with some other emotions you tried so hard to bury.

a flicker of emotions passes over his eyes as he glazes his vision over you "you think you are the only one who cares? why did you even think i captured you instead of your Commander, when i could have easily caught her and gotten the information too? why did you think you never encountered any orcs while you were sauntering through the woods? never have you escaped from my mind for a moment from the day we met. i tried so hard to keep every emotions i am feeling, hidden from you. but tonight i can't and i won't. i know i am a monster, an abomination for someone so kind as you. but tonight i am baring the one thing that has not been tainted by the evil , to your hands."

he places your hand on his chest, as you your eyes brim with tears. you feel his heart beating erratically, mirroring yours. "from the day you pulled me from that dark abyss, i decided that this heart will only belong to one person, to the one person this heart wholeheartedly loves."

time stops as you hears his words, it is like honey being poured into your ears. "so does mine too" you reciprocate, as you places his hands on your chest. "you are neither a monster nor an abomination. you are beautiful as Eru's any other creation. i even left the army because of you. because you keep on invading my everyday thoughts. and i kept thinking of how you are my enemy and i how i should hate you. but my heart never responded to any negative emotions, for all it had was love for you."

fianlly you can let this emotion run free, this plaguing need for him that you tried so hard to conceal. you would have stood there for eternity, for all of your immortal life, with his warm hands pressing yours into his chest. no words are exchanged betweeen you two in these seconds; no words are needed as the beating of your heart and the measure of your breath are enough to convey the feelings pouring off from both of you. he slowly closes the already miniscule distance betweeen you, as you step forward at the same time too, the tantalizing distance between your lips almost unbearable. you can feel his breath near your mouth, as your lips part with breathlessness and need. you just need to lean forward and place your mouth. you slowly reach forward, just enough to press the lips against his----

" lord father, i got a sudden report that---what is happening here?" glûg's voice rang across the tent as you and adar both turned to his direction.

" GET OUT GLÛG" you both cries in unison as poor glûg scurries off, being banished from the tent second time. but not before he catches a warm smile passing over his lord father. glûg catches from his peripheral vision, of his lord father pressing a chaste kiss in your cheek before placing his forehead against yours and smiling a genuine smile, which he has never seen.

'things will be good from now on' glûg thinks as he passes over to the next tent, thinking of the elf that thawed the ice of his lord father's heart. the one his lord father told him about months; the one lord father instructed him to call naneth in the future. and the one who made his lord father whole again after eons.

extra notes - all the asks i got, i will update them by this week itself, tysm for requesting! please leave a like and reblog and if you enjoyed reading them. hope everyone have an amazing day :)

[whatdoyoumeanimacat]

𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘?

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - Yandere behavior, Kidnapping, Dead Doves: Do Not Eat, Stockholm syndrome (?), mentions of self harm

Author's note - I disappear once in a while and it's concerning I know but I promise I'm not dead :( (I will ALWAYS come back <3 Y'all so supportive *sobs aggressively and cutely*)

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 more did you want? Why were you so cruel to him when all he wanted was to protect you? To help you? To love you? Was it too much to ask? Just a little love? You knew too well that he wasn't happy like he seemed to be. You read him. You saw through him the instant he met you. You tore the layers of his heart and made your way through in, sitting on the vacant throne. That wasn't supposed to be for a human. It's too dangerous. Oh well. It's too late now, isn't it? You're already buried 10 feet deep in his heart. There's no going back now. Satoru was hurt. He didn't know why your sweet little brain couldn't understand why he captured you and kept you locked up in his basement. Why couldn't you understand that this was for your own good? Or was it? Why couldn't you understand that he did this just for you and he was not being selfish. Oh, how could he be selfish when you gave away your world and understood him? He was used as a weapon. But you looked at him like a small, delicate little flower.

A human.

Maybe that was your biggest mistake. To the point that it made you feel like smashing your head against the hard concrete walls of the basement, he had kept you in. You didn't understand. Why? Why was he doing this? Why was he hurting you so much? Why had he kept you locked up to suffer? Sure, he had kept you locked up in a huge estate with lots and lots of luxuries, and basically everything you could ever want to everything you couldn't even dream of seeing. But that surely didn't excuse the fact that he had kidnapped you. You felt your life fade away before your eyes. Time passed by, days passed by, and you rotted in the basement, the only form of entertainment being the carefully programmed laptop Satoru had got you. Today, was another day of your organs slowly rotting in your body, as you felt your organs sink deep inside you. You mindlessly held the page-down button on the laptop, while Satoru clung to you, refusing to let go as if you'd vanish into thin air if he did so. You heard your stomach rumble, breaking the silence in the air, to which he giggled like a teenage girl staring at her crush. Not one bit was this funny to you. He had starved you for 2 days after you fought to get out of this nightmare of a house. "Awh~ Someone's hungry, huh?" He teased. Your eyes never left the laptop. You couldn't stand him. No. Not one bit. He chuckled at your expressionless face (which wasn't really expressionless. It was more of... numbness.) He chuckled. Of course, he didn't care. You're the idiot here if you think he did. Yet, he spends all of his nights convincing himself that nobody cares like he does.

"C'mon, baby girl. Don't be like that, yeah? I'll getcha some food, mhm? How about then? Will you behave, baby girl?" Oh how much you hated that tone of his. He talked as if he owned the world. Maybe he did. But he certainly did not own you. And that's where you're wrong. "Gimme 15 minutes, yeah? I'll come back with some food, hm?" You felt warmth spread on your lungs when you heard the word 'food'. Almost like a starved, abused dog. Maybe there wasn't much difference between you and a starved, abused dog. Oh, you poor thing. Only if someone was kind enough to pity you just as much as you pitied others. Too bad, too sad. This is not a story and you certainly are not the princess of the story. "Whatever...just get me something to eat." You muttered, your throat dry from dehydration. Oh you'd trade golds and silvers for a drop of water. He chuckled at your impatient tone, he found it cute, even though you’re just hungry and want some food. “Not to worry dear... I’ll be back in 15 minutes, alright? Don’t miss me too much while I’m gone~” You felt a heavy weight lift off your shoulders at the sight of him getting off the bed and leaving the basement. You swore you felt your heart lighten up at the sight of him leaving.

But the gods didn't like you and wanted you to suffer and carry the weight of all the burdens in this world. Satoru came back after what it felt like 2 seconds. “I’m back, baby girl- and I got you food~” He hummed. You felt your heart drown back in when you heard his playful voice. He held a polythene bag, with something inside "What did you buy?" Your voice cracked. You'd die for some water. Just a drop. What did you do to deserve this fate-? No, what did your poor little throat do to deserve such a fate? Being stuck with someone as unlucky as yourself. Oh, that poor thing. He sat back on the bed, beside you while you made an attempt to pull the bag out of his hold, only to fail. "uh-uh." Your lips instantly curled downward. "I'll give ya this, under one condition." Your frown deepened. "What." You questioned coldly. He chuckled at your response, he loved how annoyed and impatient you were. But that was only making Satoru enjoy this much more. “Come on now, don’t be like that.. at least I'm not making you beg- plus, if you want something, you gotta be nice and ask sweetly, no?~” He teased before leaning closer, his expression turned serious “It’s nothing bad, I promise. But, I’m just asking you to fulfill a certain condition.~" You hated that tone. That cocky, know-it-all tone. But your stomach couldn't care less. "What do you want?" You couldn't take it anymore. You were starving. It was all amusing to him, though. He smirked, his voice teasing, "Baby girl, you’re being too impatient right now. If you want it so badly, you gotta give me a kiss~" The visible disgust on your face could've made him laugh his ass off. Again, you felt like you'd die if you didn't have a piece of food on your tongue right now. So you accepted, leaning in and pecking his cheek quickly, noticing the tint of red while you proceeded to grab the bag from his hand, digging in. He chuckled at your sudden excitement for the food, you were clearly starving and it was kinda adorable to him. As if he hasn't starved you for 2 days. “Relax, I haven’t even taken the food out of the bag yet and you're already so eager to dig in” He teased as he began to take out the food from the plastic bag. “I got you some rice n' sushi." He watched with infatuation in his eyes while you gulped down the rice and sushi. You could feel your stomach warm up after you swallowed the first bite. Oh, how heavenly it felt. Nothing could compare to it. Or perhaps, he could. That was the exact feeling he felt whenever he saw you. He felt starved without you. A person dying of thirst regrets every single second he wasted water throughout his life. The first drop of water that quenches his thirst, feels heavenly to him. Again, to the point, he tears up and worships water for the rest of his life. That was the exact emotions he felt towards you. Such strong emotions, no? Well, it isn't wise to feel such extreme emotions towards a human being.

As minutes passed, you eventually finished all the food, completely and utterly full. Satoru leaned back as he spoke. “Are you finally done now, baby girl..?” He chuckled, and a fond smile crept onto his lips. “Took you long enough.. it was honestly kind of amusing to see you eat so fast like you’ve never had food in your life” You felt anger building up in your lungs. How dare this- this imbecile ask you such a question as if he hadn't starved you for two whole days? But you knew better than to start a fight. Yet, this was overwhelming. Tell me, just how much can a little human being tolerate? And for how long can it tolerate? You frown. "Why do you call me 'baby girl'?" You did not like him. He chuckled at your question. He knew you did not like him. "Why else? I’m calling you that because you’re just way too cute and adorable to not give you that nickname. I’m also calling you baby girl because you belong to me. You’re mine."

It enraged you. You were not some tool to be thrown around. You were a human. A kind human. You couldn't accept this from him. Not after being such an angel to him when everyone saw him as a weapon. I scoff. "Go find another woman who's willing, kidnap her, and torture her, let go of me." At this point, you prayed, begged, any god, any angel, any mystery being out there, to make him somehow fall out of love with you and find someone else to bother. Seems like this would start a fight. Time to say bye-bye to food again for a good few days, I guess. “Excuse me?” He spoke, his voice was low and menacing as he leaned closer. He was clearly pissed. “Who do you think you’re talking to, baby girl?” You frown, pissed as well. "Well- why don't you go out and find someone who fucking loves you instead of being a fucking creep and kidnapping someone who-" He cut you off. “No.” He replied firmly “I’d never let you go, baby girl. Not even in your fucking dreams." You let out a 'tsk', turning your head away as this slowly started to get heated. "Do you know how fucking sick you sound??? You are so fucking disgusting! why the fuck don't you leave me alone and find someone fucking else-!??!!" His patience was being tested and his irritation began to grow bigger than before. "Because all of them want my fucking money. They like me because I'm strong, popular, and loved. They all only wanted me for my reputation, something that I can offer them.” He paused “You’re different, you don’t want anything from me other than my love and affection.”

Now that's where he's wrong. You scoff. "GOD DAMN MAN- I don't want anything from you-! I didn't even know you properly before you kidnapped me-! We were JUST friends-! But you forgot. This is his house. His rules. You'd obey whether you like it or not. He looked at you with a dark, cold glare. You were starting to get on his nerves and he could feel the anger rising inside of him, like a storm brewing inside his mind. He was furious with your behavior. “Babygirl.. I’m going to ask this once. Shut. Up. Stop speaking before you say something you’ll regret.” He gritted his teeth, trying to maintain his calm despite his boiling anger. But you knew you were hitting the right points in him. Maybe if you keep this attitude up for a few months he'd get tired and let go of you. Maybe. "OH YEAH-!? Now it's fucking bitter cause it's the truth! You just fucking wanted me because I wrote those pathetic goddamn poems for you TO MAKE YOU FEEL FUCKING BETTER-! I did it as a GOOD fucking FRIEND. If I knew you were such a MANIAC, I wouldn't even have GLANCED at you-!" It's true you were an angel to him. But that's the reason he fell for you. What if you were the same with someone else and they took advantage of it? No. No. He can't bear that. He could never. His heart would bleed to death. His anger was now at its peak, you just kept pushing and pushing and it was only getting bigger and bigger the more you spoke. “SHUT UP-” He snapped, losing his temper and patience “I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR WHINING AND COMPLAINING!” He had now cornered you. Be careful, this is Satoru Gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer.

He trapped you between him and the wall behind your back. “I don’t want to hear you talk like that again, do you understand me?” He spoke with a stern tone “I don’t want to hear another word from your mouth about me letting you go." But you can't stop there. You can't lose this time. Losing gets tiring after some time. And you start to get desperate. You were starting to get desperate too. "I just was fucking go home-! Get out of your mind-! You're a fucking CREEP-!" He leaned down closer to your face, his voice raising, anger clear in his voice. “Did you not hear me?” He spoke through gritted teeth “Stop speaking. You keep saying things that are getting on my nerves and pissing me off.” What a nightmare. The proximity probably scared you. I mean, it's Satoru Gojo. He scares everyone. He's a weapon, after all. You instinctively squeeze your eyes shut, turning your face away. Your lips quivered as you managed to utter out some words, "I wish I never met you." Once again, what a nightmare.

He paused for a moment, his anger slowly fading as he watched tears stream silently down your face. Despite his boiling anger being replaced by a throb in his chest. “What?” He muttered, his voice no longer sharp and aggressive “What’d you say, babygirl..?” Oops! You've made his heart bleed. Not like it's your first time doing this, so I guess it'll be fine. But hey-! The guilt will swallow you alive, though! He looked down at you, studying your expression and watching your tear-stained face. He stared at you for a moment before he slowly spoke again, his voice now soft and gentle “Did you.. say you wish you’d never met me..?” The numbness in his voice was clear, he sounded like he couldn’t believe what he had just heard from you. Satoru loosened and stumbled back a few steps. He continued to study your face, his heart feeling a little heavy when he saw how fearful and afraid you looked. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt deep within him, seeing you this terrified of him. “You… you really hate me that much, huh?” He muttered quietly, his voice sounding sad and almost… hurt. He continued to stare down at you, his eyes looking into yours with a mixture of sadness and hurt. Despite the anger he had felt before, he suddenly felt a wave of a different kind of pain in his heart. He couldn’t lie, hearing you say that you never wanted to meet him hurt him more than he thought it would. For the first time, Satoru felt an intense feeling of sadness that he hadn’t felt before. He was conflicted at the moment; he knew he was supposed to get angry at your words, but seeing how frightened you were and hearing the way you spoke of him filled him with a sense of guilt and remorse. He sat in silence for a moment, contemplating his thoughts before he slowly spoke again, his voice soft and quiet. Despite trying to maintain his composure, there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone, “Is.. is that really how you feel?” He asked, his voice almost shaky “That you wish you never met me..?” Your silence stabbed his heart. He's a hundred percent sure even if he had his infinity on, he'd still feel it. No one had ever even laid a finger on him, except you, perhaps. This was his first time. We all have first times, no? He could tell you weren’t going to answer his question, judging by your silence and lack of response. Deep down, he knew what answer was, but he still desperately wanted to hear it from you directly “Please…. Please just tell me if that’s how you really feel..” His heart ached as he spoke, the vulnerability in his tone becoming more obvious.

"Yes."

His heart felt like it shattered into shards when he heard your response. Even though he expected it, the truth being said out loud still felt like a sucker punch to the gut. His eyes dropped down, he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eye contact anymore. For the first time in a long time, Satoru felt a deep, sharp pain in his heart. He tried to keep his composure, but he felt like his walls were slowly crumbling down around him. Oh, how he drowned in his emotions. It felt as if a glass of boiling hot acid was poured on top of his delicate, feeble little heart. He protected everyone. Everyone and anyone. Known and strangers. Why wasn't there even a small ant to protect him? Why him? Why? His world shattered as he walked out. Oh how the poor little weapon of a heart cried in his ribs. It bled and cried and sobbed to be held by you, to hear your comforting voice, soothing voice, to tell it that you didn't mean it. Oh how that poor thing begged the brain to wake up, except, this wasn't even a dream to begin with. What did this poor little thing do to deserve such misery? Oh the poor little thing. But. Guilt is a monster. Satoru lay on his back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling with his arms folded behind his head. He hadn’t spoken to you for the past few hours, not a single word from him. He sat in complete silence, lost deep inside his thoughts. It had been so quiet the entire time that the only sounds that filled the room were his breathing and the ticking of the clock on the wall. The silence engulfed the room until he heard some creakings in the basement. Oh right. You were there, in the basement. His angel was there in the basement.

He sat up immediately, his ears perking up when he heard the noise coming from the room you were kept in. It was the first sound he had heard in hours, and he was curious to see what it was. Satoru swung his legs off the bed and stood up, walking over to the door of the room he had kept you in. He peeped in. He had chained you. He found you chained, staring out of the tiny window, moonlight falling on your face. Moonlight falling on your angelic face. Oh what a sight to soothe his sore, bleeding heart. You were singing a song. Your favorite. "Did you get enough love, my little dove, why do you cry?~ And I'm sorry I left, but it was for the best, though it never felt right~ My Little Versailles~" The sound of your beautiful voice coming from the room caught him off guard, making him freeze for a brief moment. He stood in front of the door and listened quietly to your singing, feeling a pang in his heart when he heard the lyrics of the song. Little did he know, you weren't singing. This was the voice of guilt. The guilt took over your throat as you struggled to voice it out, in the form of music. "The hospital asked should the body be cast~ Before I say goodbye, my star in the sky~ Such a funny thought to wrap you up in cloth, Do you find it all right, my dragonfly?~ Shall we look at the moon, my little loon~ Why do you cry?~ Make the most of your life, while it is rife~ While it is light~ We're all gonna die~" Maybe the guilt tortured you just as much as his heart tortured him. Maybe you were really upset for saying those things to him. What a silly being you are. Being sorry for hurting my kidnapper's feelings. The person who tortured me. Maybe that's why he fell for you. Maybe that's why, you actually are an angel. His shoulders slumped as he listened to you sing the lyrics of the song. He could almost feel the sadness and hurt in your voice, and even though he knew he should be mad and upset at you for saying that you wished you had never met him, he couldn’t bring himself to feel that anymore. All he felt now was a mixture of guilt and sadness, as he thought about the pain he had caused you. He leaned against the door frame, still listening to your voice fill the room.

"Sitting at the bed with the halo at your head Was it all a disguise, like Junior High Where everything was fiction, future, and prediction Now, where am I? My fading supply~" Hearing the words about being in 'disguise' in the song seemed to hit Satoru harder. It was almost as if the song spoke to his heart, bringing forth the feelings of guilt and remorse that he had buried deep within him. It was perhaps what you knew about him. He hid his real feelings behind a happy, playful, flirty, and teasing facade. But, how long will a facade really last? With his eyes closed and his head leaned back, he listened to every word you sang, his heart growing heavier with each passing line. "Did you get enough love, my little dove Why do you cry? And I'm sorry I left, but it was for the best Though it never felt right My little Versailles" His mind kept replaying the same words of the song over and over again, and he couldn’t stop himself from feeling the pang in his heart each time he heard those lines. He continued to lean against the door frame, his heart feeling like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand. He knew he should walk into the room and confront you for how you felt, but he found himself unable to move, stuck in his place as he listened to you sing. "Shall we look at the moon, my little loon Why do you cry? Make the most of your life, while it is rife, While it is light" As he continued to listen to your beautiful, sad voice singing the lyrics of the song, the guilt and remorse inside of Satoru continued to grow like shadows in the back of his mind. The words of the song seemed to hit him harder and harder, making him feel a sense of pain and suffering that he had never felt before. Despite how he appeared to others, he had deep feelings that he hid inside, and hearing the song seemed to make them all burst to the surface all at once.

"We're all gonna die"

That last line of the song truly felt like it stabbed him straight through the heart. It was like a dagger being plunged into his chest when he heard the words spoken so sadly from your voice. Satoru gritted his teeth as he continued to lean against the door frame, his mind filled with a chaotic mixture of emotions that refused to die down.

"We're all gonna die."

He couldn’t take it anymore. The words echoed like a mantra in his head, making the feeling in his heart even worse. Without thinking, Satoru pushed himself off the doorframe and pushed the door open, stepping into the room to face you. His eyes were slightly wide as he looked at you, noticing the expression on your face. He walked up to you until he was standing right in front of you, towering over your figure. Despite trying to maintain a calm exterior, his heart was beating faster and his mind was racing with a mixture of feelings and thoughts. Satoru stared at you, trying to figure out what to say. For the first time, he felt completely speechless. The normally confident and composed man was now standing in front of you completely silent, his mind still reeling back from the words of the song and the pain in your voice. Perhaps his presence killed your guilt a little. You stood there, internally panicking. "I-I-....a-aren't you asleep yet...?" Satoru’s intense gaze focused on yours as you looked up at him. He was silent for a moment before he spoke, his voice deep and calm, but with a hint of melancholy in his tone “No. I wasn’t able to sleep.” He continued to look down at you, looking into your eyes, studying your expression. He could tell you were panicking, but he didn’t seem to care about that at the moment. Now this was awkward. You didn't know what to say or do. What was up with this guy...? Wait- that's right! What's up-! Wonderful. You nod, looking away. "What's...up?" Satoru continued to stare down at you as you muttered, his intense eyes still fixed on yours. He could feel a strange tension in the air, and he knew he needed to confront you about what he had heard "I heard you singing in here.” His voice was calm and steady, but there was an undertone of sadness and vulnerability in his tone. He stepped closer to you, closing the small gap between you and him. ”The words... you... said." His voice grew softer as he continued to look down at you, his eyes focused on yours. "Did you mean it?" What a weird question. Doesn't everybody sing just because they like the song?? We're not Disney characters, hey. But, just maybe. Maybe you meant that. Who knows. I for sure don't. "I....guess." You mutter. The tension in the air was thick. Satoru’s heart squeezed in his chest when he heard your response. His expression remained serious, but the sadness in his eyes grew a little bit stronger. “You guess?” He repeated the words you said quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. “That’s not a yes or no answer.” Oh, come on. You sure were kind. You are kind. Your heart would squeeze at the thought of even giving someone a dirty look, let alone hurt them. What a sweet being you were. Guilt loves to engulf such sweetness. You tear up, frustration clear on your face. "Yes. I meant that. I meant the things I said. I couldn't say it to your face, but I thought the stuffs I said earlier had a huge impact on you. It hurts me. I couldn't bear to hurt anyone. To hurt you. Not after I gave all of my love to you. Not after I dedicated the life of my heart to shower you the love nobody ever showed you with." No wonder why he fell for me, to the point of obsession and beyond.

Satoru listened to what you said, his heart clenching at the pain and hurt in your voice. He was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice cracking a little as he tried to hold back his own emotions. “I… I knew you meant it when you said those things. I just wanted to hear you say it out loud.” He took a deep breath, his expression still serious despite the sadness in his eyes. "I've been causing you pain...haven't I?" Oh the poor little child. The poor being went through so much, you could tear up. Oh how much it's heart ached. You could feel it. It's a curse. Or, maybe, it's a blessing. Maybe. You slowly opened your arms. "Do you...wanna cry...?" Satoru couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The sight of you opening your arms, offering him comfort, was something he had never expected. His expression softened at the words you said to him, and he felt a wave of emotions welling up inside of him. “I…..” For the first time, tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill out. He let out a shaky breath, trying to keep his composure. Seeing you offer him a place to feel vulnerable and emotional was something he never knew he needed so badly. You nod slowly, opening your arms. Oh, that soft look of kindness in your eyes squeezes his heart so tight. Without saying anything else, Satoru moved quickly and crouched down in front of you, wrapping his arms around your small figure. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body shaking slightly as he held onto you tightly. Despite how powerful and strong he was, at that moment, he just couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You wrap your arms around him, your abductor. You gently pat his hands, feeling the guilt die down slowly, little by little in your heart, leaving your veins, even though it wasn't even supposed to be there in the first place. The guilt should've never formed. Satoru continued to hold onto you tightly, clutching onto you as if his life depended on it. He couldn’t hold back the tears that streamed down his face as he buried his face against your chest, letting out quiet, shaky sobs. Your hand running through his hair and rubbing his back only made him cry harder, as he realized just how much he had been hurting you.

"Shall we look at the moon,

my little loon,

why do you cry~?

did you get enough love~

my little dove~

why do you cry~?

We're all gonna die."

Satoru clutched onto you tighter, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head buried against your chest. He couldn’t control the tears that streamed down his face and soaked your clothes, his body shaking slightly as he took deep, shaky breaths. Satoru felt a wave of emotion wash over him, and in that moment, he knew he had completely fallen for you. As if he didn't already know. Satoru continued to sob quietly into your chest, his body trembling slightly as he held onto you tightly. He couldn’t believe how much he was crying, how much pain he was feeling, and how completely vulnerable he was in this moment. But at the same time, he couldn’t have cared less, as he leaned into your touch and let your comfort wash over him. “Please…” He spoke in a hoarse, shaky voice, his grip on you not loosening at all. “Please, don’t ever say that you wish you had never met me again…” He sobbed, and sobbed. The words that left his throat made your eyes well up with tears.

Why were you such a cruel being to a child?

You're just like your mother.

You stared at him with agonizing pain, unable to express any of it. But, what he did was wrong too, no? What he did was bad. Nothing could, and nothing would justify it. For god's sake, He's a child. What good does a child know? A child finds something it loves, and wishes to be with it. What is the child's fault? Is it so wrong to wish for something? What is right? What is wrong? You are wrong. The poor child wishes for some comfort, for some love. It's not like it chose to be born here. It knows nothing. The poor little thing needs someone to hold onto, who will show them the right way, who will show them love, kindness, patience. You were oh, so kind to every one of them who just took advantage of it. Why can't you be a little more considerate towards someone who just wants some love? You didn't know what was correct, what was incorrect. And if I'm being honest, I don't either. Why does it matter, though? At the end of the day, At the end of the time,

𝐖𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐞.

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ

{ꜰᴏᴜʀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴊᴜʟʏ} {ꜱᴏɴɢ ʙʏ ꜱᴜꜰᴊᴀɴ ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇɴꜱ}

𝙱𝙾𝙽𝚄𝚂+! 𝙱𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙴𝚁

© ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴏʀ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴘɪꜱꜱ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ >:(

[leonardoeatscarrots]

Love reading about Rasputin's death and seeing shit like "We have nooooo idea what hit Rasputin on the head" or some other detail like that that was absolutely mentioned in Felix’s memoirs.

Like I get that Felix’s memoirs aren't entirely reliable. Shit just happens that way. But you can't honestly tell me you have NO clue when the guy who did it says, "Oh yeah, it was a rubber bat, lmao." And doesn't have a reason to lie about it.

It's not definitive proof in any way, but that's still better than nothing.

I also love when folks give me the whole "I think the reason he talks about himself so much before the murder is to make you trust him even though hes a murderer" as if he's some kind of big-brained mastermind manipulator. This is Mr Felix "Purishkevich shot my dog" Yusupov. He has the persuasion of a kindergartener.

""That's exactly what he wants you to think.""

Honestly, idgaf if Lost Splendor is exaggerated or inaccurate. In my opinion, the accounts from there are pretty reasonable if you take out the rich layer of devoutly religious. Far better than any other adaptation I've seen.

But besides that it's funny. It's actually entertaining. It's well constructed.

It's biased, but there's something distinctly human about that.

It is a. Good. Book.

[fishing-lesbian-catgirl]

I can imagine anything guy image: “I can spiral into tears and convince myself I’m the worst person alive over anything”

[bobendsneyder64]

Okay, so, I don't make these kind of posts often so excuse me if this is a mess but;

Do you all remember when I posted this post 1 year ago, where I mentioned that racers in the 60/70/80's had their blood types stitched on their suit?

Well, yesterday I saw this video of Fabio Di Giannantonio and I saw this (it was in the VR46racingteam stories so i screenrecorded it):

Did you all see it on his suit when he sat down? I made a screenshot too:

I think this is his bloodtype he has on his suit?! I mean, I can't think of anything else this could be. I checked the other stories and some posts and Marco Bezzecchi didn't have it so maybe it's a personal choice? Anyway, it just drawed my attention

[beevean]

ah, i knew there was a reason i got so irritated :)

[astralazuli]

So there's that D&D class quiz going around, & I took it & was so deeply offended I got Paladin.

& so I have had conversations with both Bestie & Birdfriend about this grave insult & they both were like, "Well... They have a point?" & informed me that my desire to absorb hits meant for others & deep drive to help whenever I actually can & strong convictions make me a bit Paladin-coded.

& I am just so... Idk. It's just interesting to get glimpses of yourself from other people's POVs. To be told that my defining characteristics are protecting & healing others & being incredibly fighty about the things I care about... Especially as someone whose brain specifically fixates on whether I care enough, do enough, give enough... Yeah. It's just kinda wild.

Anyway, I'm now adjusting my self-perception to include the fact that if I were a D&D character, I would be an Oath of the Ancients Paladin & not a wizard & that actually that's okay.

[lith-myathar]

.

[fragmentedblade]

I haven't looked forwards to a character as much as I've looked forwards to Sunday. I hope he won't disappoint

[mooniekive]

I was called a Tae anti today IN PERSON by an adult woman and she was like “I’m joking haha” but I’m pretty sure she wasn’t lol

[whispering-kavka]

the struggles of today proved to me that i might indeed be a little mentally unwell

[katya-goncharov]

i made a mistake at work the other day and now i've been trying for hours to formulate an email that apologises and explains why i made said mistake without it sounding like i'm making excuses