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eroselless · 4 months

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PATO - THREE

series masterlist | part 2 | part 4

[charles leclerc x reader, carlos sainz x reader]

warnings: angst, fighting, tiny bit of violence (a slap makes an appearance but that’s it, not directed at the reader), pregnancy, description of birth/labour (might be a little inaccurate), breastfeeding, assholey Charles, Spanish

note: Part 3! Baby is here! We’ll be doing some time jumps from time to time, each chapter marked with a date and relative time in the reader's pregnancy. The name I chose for the baby comes from my personal list of baby names, I couldn’t resist. Lucero is pronounced loo-seh-row :) I hope you guys enjoy it!

SPAIN, OCTOBER 2023

3rd trimester/month 9/week 37

“¡Puja, mi amor! ¡Sé que puedes!” The voice cuts through the air as you push with all your might Push, my love! I know you can do it! The contraction finally lets up, and you gasp, collapsing back against the hospital bed. You’re exhausted, every muscle straining from the effort. Your body is drenched in sweat, and your hair is matted to your forehead. It's been four gruelling hours.

You squeeze the hand that’s trapped between your fingers, seeking reassurance. The next contraction starts deep in your hips. “Ya casi estás, casi está aquí la bebé,” You're almost there, the baby is almost here. Lips press gently to your forehead, a touch of comfort that should somehow make the pain bearable. But you flinch away, any touch sending pain signals through your body.

“I can’t… I can’t do it,” you croak, your breath coming out in ragged bursts. Tears mix with the sweat on your face, and the feeling of defeat threatens to overwhelm you.

“Sí puedes,” the voice says firmly. Yes, you can. A cool cloth wipes over your forehead, the cold fabric bringing a brief moment of relief. “Just one more push, you’ve got this,” one of the nurses says.

You shake your head again, tears pricking your eyes. The wave of pain returns, and you cry out. “I can’t,” you repeat, voice breaking. “I can’t do it.”

“Yes, you can,” the voice insists. Their fingers are still trapped in your grip. “Respira, inhala, exhala. You’re so strong, you’re almost there.” breathe, inhale, exhale.

The nurse starts counting down, guiding you through the next push. You see another nurse enter the room, holding towels. You take a deep breath, and with a final surge of energy, you push with all you have left.

The room falls silent as if everyone is holding their breath, the tension palpable. Just when you think you might faint from the effort, a sharp, piercing cry fills the air.

A baby’s cries echo around the room, a beautiful, life-affirming sound. You collapse back against the pillows, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. Tears of relief and joy mingle with the sweat on your face.

“Lo hiciste, mi vida. Lo hiciste,” the voice says, filled with awe and pride. You did it, my life. You did it. Their fingers wipe away the tears on your face, and they press their lips to your hairline.

You open your eyes, blinking away the blur of exhaustion, and see the nurse approaching you with a tiny swaddle. The baby is placed on your chest, and her cries cease as she makes contact with your skin. Your eyes tear up again, but this time with tears of pure joy as you hold your baby close.

“Mirala, que bella,” the voice says, fingers trailing gently over the baby’s cheek. Look at her, how beautiful. The baby’s skin is still grimy, but you don’t care as you trail your fingers over her little body. She’s finally here.

You look up at the person whose hand you held as you pushed her out, your eyes full of love and gratitude. You lean into them as they coo at the baby. “Thank you,” you say, your voice trembling with emotion.

“Siempre, mi amor. Always,” they reply, their own eyes glistening with happy tears. The room is filled with a peaceful silence, broken only by the soft murmurs of the nurses and the gentle coos from the baby. You cradle your daughter close, feeling a sense of completeness you’ve never known before. At that moment, all the pain and fear melt away, replaced by an all-encompassing love for the tiny life you now hold in your arms.

MEXICO, OCTOBER 2024

The paddock buzzes with energy as you arrive, a storm of activity everywhere you look. The atmosphere is both intimidating and exhilarating, a stark contrast to the races you had attended before. But this time, you weren't covering your face or walking alone.

You shift Lucero in your arms as she snuggles closer to your chest, sucking her thumb and occasionally dribbling spit onto your shirt. Navigating through the busy entrance, you scan both of your passes. Carlos’s hand rests protectively on your back, guiding you through the throng of journalists and fans. He makes eye contact with them, smiling and stopping briefly to sign autographs for young fans holding out their cars and caps. Some journalists wave at Lucero, captivated by her big blue eyes and tousled chestnut hair. A few of them seem to recognize you, but most don’t.

Despite the nerves, you maintain a calm demeanour as you make your way further into the paddock. Carlos’s hand is a steady presence on your back, gently urging you forward. You hear Charles’s voice in your mind, from almost two years ago, expressing concern about how you'd handle the cameras. But you don’t feel as nervous as you thought you would. You’re okay.

Approaching the Ferrari garage, the familiar colours fill you with nostalgia. It's been so long since you’ve seen the inside of the garage. The image of Charles on the wall seems to follow you as you walk in with Lucero and Carlos. From afar, you spot Fred Vasseur waving you down, a surprised look on his face.

“It’s so good to see you!” he greets warmly, hugging you and then Carlos. His eyes twinkle as they land on Lucero. He pokes teasingly at her tummy, eliciting a two-toothed smile from her as she hides her face in your chest, peeking out at him shyly with one eye. "And who is this?"

“This is Lucero Ines,” you introduce, your voice steady. “My daughter.”

Fred smiles, rubbing a finger over her chubby shoulder. He leans in closer to get a better look at the 1-year-old. “She’s beautiful, has your eyes.”

You smile at the comment, glancing into her sapphire eyes as they seem to gleam under the light of the sun. They were just like her father’s, wide and full of wonder. Though she did share many features with her father, every time she smiled, Carlos would only see your face reflected in hers.

Only he and Aunt Ines knew the truth. Keeping the baby from Charles proved to be hard but you could only think about the nights you stayed up wrestling with doubt and fear, mind full of memories of the past.

Fred’s eyes twinkle with affection as he babbles at Lucero, her little fingers wrapped around his.

He lets out a final chuckle and bids you adieu, letting you know that he’ll see you inside and Carlos leads you into the garage. Some of the engineers wave at you, welcoming you back. They exchange glances, their expressions puzzled as if trying to place a familiar face.

Carlos settles you down at the front of the garage where guests are congregating. Celebrities and journalists chatting amongst themselves, cameras scanning over the small crowd.

“Ya vengo, mi amor,” Carlos says, bending down to press a kiss to your lips. I’ll be right back, my love. “I’m gonna go change.” He lovingly pinches Lucero’s cheek and makes his way to his driver room.

You stand alone with your daughter in your arms, eyes tracing over the track as you do. It isn’t quiet by any means but you feel an ease creep settle in as your mind wanders away from you. You suddenly feel Lucero start to squirm in your arms. She wriggles out, a sign that she wants to be put down. She gurgles happily as she pads around, pulling you forward. She holds tight to your fingers, still unable to hold herself up on her own. Fred gives you a smile as he returns, holding a small snack in his hands. “For our little Princess of Ferrari,” he dubs her, wagging it within her reach before handing it to her. She takes it in one hand biting at the wrapping before shaking it in your direction as if to mamá, open. He lets out a smile, telling you about the race and how much of a pleasure it is to have you back in the Ferrari garage. He takes a turn holding on to Lucero as she waddles around, shoes squeaking with every footfall.

There’s a light breeze that ruffles your hair as Carlos approaches, scooping up Lucero from Fred’s grasp. She lets out a squeal as he tickles her, laughter echoing throughout the garage. The bright red of his racing suit contrasts with the white of your dress and the yellow of Lucero’s little outfit. He lovingly presses a kiss to her cheek and leans into you, breathing in your comforting scent as he nuzzles his nose into your hair. If that didn't tell the people around you that you were together you weren't sure what would.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Charles weaves through the paddock, deftly avoiding cameras and microphones. He checks his phone, mind still on the message he received from you that morning.

UNKNOWN: Hi Charles, it's Y/N. I’m going to be at the race today, we need to talk.

He had stared at it for a while, eyebrows knitted together with concern and curiosity. But he tucks his phone away from Alexandra’s eyes before she can spot it. It's the first he’s heard from you in nearly a year and a half and he can’t help but feel guilty as he walks into the paddock with Alexandra in hand.

As he nears the Ferrari garage, he spots the crowd and pushes through, his fingers intertwined with Alexandra's. He kisses her swiftly before heading off to change into his race suit, returning shortly after. He tugs Alexandra further into the garage, catching sight of Carlos from a distance, his arm draped over a woman's shoulders.

He can't see the woman's face but he notices the baby in her arms, flailing and grasping at Carlos. Carlos takes the baby, blowing raspberries into her thick neck, eliciting a shrill laugh. The woman looks up at Carlos, smiling as he continues to play with the baby, who pulls off his hat, revealing messy hair underneath. Charles approaches his teammate, his attention drawn to the little one in Carlos's arms, now wearing their signature red cap.

"Hey, mate," Charles says, his voice light and friendly. He places a hand on Carlos's bicep, pulling his attention away from the energetic baby. Charles doesn't recognize you right away, your head bent down, suddenly nervous. "I don't think we've met," Charles continues, stretching out a hand. Before he can say anything else, you turn your eyes up to face him, both of you wide-eyed. You don't know why his presence catches you off guard—you’d told him you’d be here and the reason why. It feels like you’re meeting him for the first time, like a girl awe-struck by her idol. The air feels thick with tension as he takes in the sight of you. He says your name, and it automatically takes you back to the night you last saw him.

You don't look much different than you did that night. Your hair is longer and shinier, your cheeks full and rosy. You look… happy. You suck in a breath as he introduces Alexandra, whom you recognize immediately. It feels like it was just yesterday when you were sobbing in your aunt's front yard. His eyes seem bluer than you remembered, the ring of green around his irises brighter than before.

You're pulled out of your daze by the sound of Carlos's hat hitting the pavement. Both of you reach down to grab it, your fingers brushing briefly, sending a wave of butterflies into your stomach. You don’t miss the feeling of guilt that also comes along with it. He hands it to you, standing back to his full height. As you mirror him, he finally notices Lucero kicking excitedly in Carlos's embrace.

His breath stills in his chest as he identifies your features in her face. She looks just like you, save for her thick brown hair and big blue eyes. Freckles are sprinkled across her nose, and there's a little mole on her cheek, identical to his. Whatever words he was going to say get lost in his throat, captivated by her gaze as her little hands reach out towards him as if she instinctively knows who he is. You quietly introduce her, your voice barely above a whisper.

Carlos, holding Lucero securely, meets Charles’s eyes and glances at you. You give Carlos a subtle nod, a muted yes. Charles carefully takes Lucero from Carlos’s outstretched arms, his movements gentle and deliberate. “Hi, little Lu,” he says gently. You hold your breath as he cradles her, bouncing her slightly. She giggles, her small hands grabbing at his cheeks and hair, making him laugh.

Charles tickles her underarms, eliciting more laughter from Lucero. You watch with a tight smile as Alexandra leans in, brushing a finger over the baby’s knuckles. Lucero shies away, suddenly interested in the zipper of Charles’s race suit and pressing her forehead to the red fabric. Charles’s emotions swirl in his chest, an inkling beginning to prod at his mind. He meets your eyes and crinkles his eyebrows at you. He sees something reflected in them that confirms the feeling in his gut. He carefully hands her back to you, his smile a mix of joy and sorrow.

As he stands next to you, conversation flows between Alexandra and Carlos. She laughs, suddenly turning to Charles, “You’re so good with her,” she says, hand on his arm. “Maybe we should try for one.” She lets out a laugh, locking eyes with you as she does so. There is only awkward laughter that follows.

“Anyways, I think we should be getting set up for the race,” Charles says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N, Carlos.” He wags a finger at Lucero, walking away with Alexandra in tow.

You let out a sigh, squeezing Lucero lightly in your arms and leaning into Carlos, who now has an arm wrapped around your waist. You let out a breath, glancing between him and your daughter. “I know it's not her fault what happened with Charles but I can’t help but feel a little angry,” you admit with a dry chuckle.

He nods understandingly. “It’s okay to feel that way. She doesn’t know but you do. It's natural to have those feelings.”

You take a deep breath, looking at Lucero who is now content in your arms. “I just want to protect her, to keep her safe from all of this,” you say referring to all the emotions that start to pool in your belly.

Carlos wraps an arm around you, pulling you and Lucero closer. “We’ll protect her together. No matter what.”

You lean into him, pressing a fleeting kiss to the underside of his jaw. Your phone buzzes in your bag, a single notification lighting up the screen.

cl: we’ll talk after the race.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The sun begins to hang low in the sky by the time the race nears its end. You sit in the back of the garage, Lucero tucked close to your chest as you breastfeed her under a blanket. You wince as she grinds her gums against you, her two little bottom teeth pinching into your skin. The race is coming to a close, both Charles and Carlos’s frustrations coming in through the headset you’re wearing.

As they drive into parc fermé, Charles's frustration is obvious on his face, a look you recognized from the many occasions you witnessed it in the confines of your home. Ferrari cheers Charles on as he takes his spot on the third step of the podium. He’s showered in champagne along with Max and Lewis, respectively taking first and second places. Carlos smiles as he takes fourth, happy to join you back in the garage.

“Hiciste muy bien, mi cielo,” you say, pressing a well-deserved kiss to his lips You did so well, my sky. He thanks you, a little frustrated with his miss of the podium. He kisses your hairline, fingers going to caress the puffy cheek of your drowsy babe.

She’s still cradled in your arms, eyes now droopy, corners of her mouth white with milk. She the image of a little drunk baby, happy and full. “Me gusta que esten aquí, acompañandome,” he says I like having you guys here, accompanying me. You smile up at him, lovingly snuggling into his side. You let him go, gathering your things as he goes to his interviews and debriefs. You tell him you’ll wait for him at your hotel, nervous about seeing Charles.

It’s not until a few hours later that you find yourself sitting on the couch of your illustrious hotel room, across from the man you worked so hard to let go of.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Charles demands voice tinged with hurt and anger. Carlos sits next to you, eyes flickering between you both, ready to jump in when needed. Your chest feels heavy as you respond. “Believe me Charles, I wanted to. I was scared and I didn’t know how you’d react. I didn’t want to burden you or take you away from what you were working so hard for.”

“Burden me?” Charles echoes, incredulously. “She’s my daughter, Y/N. I had a right to know.” His eyes flash with brighter anger as he turns suddenly to Carlos.

“And you? You knew this whole time and didn’t think to tell me?” His voice cracks slightly. “You took over my role in my family without even considering how I might feel.”

Carlos huffs, nostrils flaring slightly as he meets his gaze. “She was all alone and I did what I could do to help, it was about being there for a friend.” Charles doesn’t miss the gentle squeeze Carlos gives to your thigh as you hold your fingers up to your eyes, as if trying to hold tears back with the heels of your hands. He knows it's not his place but that doesn’t stop him from blurting out his next words.

“Oh sure, friends that kiss each other shamelessly in front of the whole paddock.” He’s caught by surprise as he feels a sharp sting across his cheek, face swinging to one side. Your hand now floats in the air in front of him.

“You have no right to say that to us, Charles.” You say bitterly as you shove a finger in his face, now standing above him. His words reminded you of the shock you went through when his initial pictures with Alexandra came out. After they did, they didn’t seem to stop. They were everywhere, caught by paparazzi at any and every hour of the day. Lips pressed together in every. single. photo. Carlos pulls you back down to the couch, hands rubbing gentle circles on your arms. There’s a silence that echoes through the room as you slowly take your next breath.

“I didn’t think you’d change,” you say, eyes blank and now dripping with tears.

“And I didn't want you to change solely for the sake of me staying. I wanted you to change because you wanted to. I needed stability and I was scared that you were getting too caught up with following your dreams and were going leave us behind.” You allow yourself to meet the cerulean orbs you couldn’t stop crying for as you confess.

“I already felt so lonely long before even knowing about the baby, I didn't want to risk her having to go through the same thing.”

His anger melts away at your words, giving way to sorrow and guilt. “I’m so sorry.”

He leans forward, contemplating reaching out to touch even just your hand but he stops. "I just want to be a part of her life, Y/N. I’ve missed so much already."

You nod at his words, fingers swiping at your cheeks. “And you will be but you need to prove that you can be there for her. Consistently.”

Charles nods slowly, the weight of his past mistakes heavy on his shoulders. "I will. I promise I will."

You shift your gaze between the two men, the importance of this moment pulsating. You could see the sincerity in Charles’s eyes, a little glimmer of hope for the two of you appearing for the first time in years. "We can make this work," You say quietly. "For Lucero. We need to put her first."

Charles takes a deep breath, nodding in agreement. "I know I have a lot to make up for. I’ve made mistakes, but I want to be there for her. I want to be the father she deserves."

His words hang in the air for a moment before they seem to fully register in Carlos’s mind. He feels Charles begin to push him out of the role he took in your and Lucero’s lives. It suddenly feels for naught. A fear blooms in the back of his mind. Was he at risk of losing Lucero? And more importantly, of losing you?

Charles rises from his spot on the couch, wanting to see his baby one last time before heading out for the night. You guide him to the room you share with Carlos, showing him to her crib as she breathes deeply in her sleep. He reaches out, caressing her sleep-tossed hair. She flinches initially before relaxing into his touch.

You watch the interaction, heart filling with yearning and uncertainty. “I promise I won’t let you down,” he whispers to her before turning to you. “The both of you.”

"I believe you, Charles. Just don't make promises you can't keep."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Charles bids you goodbye, collecting himself as he wanders over to the door of your hotel room.

“Charles,” Carlos calls out as his teammate reaches for the doorknob. He stands a few feet away, lingering close to the couch where your animated conversation began. “I could never replace you in Lucero’s life.” His voice is soft, almost sad. “I saw it with my own eyes today at the paddock, how she reached for you as if she knew you already.”

Charles’s shoulders slumped, pride sparking in his chest. The thought of connecting and repairing the relationship with his daughter fills him with hope.

“You’ll always be her father, no matter where you are. You’ll always be hers.”

a/n: If you’ve gotten this far, thank you so much for reading! Any feedback, reblogs and likes are appreciated, they seriously keep me so motivated <3 on another note, do we have guesses for who might've been with the reader during labour?

tags: @kravitzwhore @janeh22 @apollosfavkiddo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @tremendousstarlighttragedy @sltwins @bwormie @marshmummy @honethatty12 @staplerrrr @smithieandy @loloekie @musicheaux

*strikethrough => tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine

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akaashiwaifuuwu · 1 year

Text

dress - taylor swift

Lee felix and fem reader

Warning : smut, yn ex is a jerk, very fluffy, last part is inspired by friend (season2 ep 4), being called slut (that's it ig)

(An: I have exams going on its my half yearly, it will end tomorrow plus it's durga puja knocking was very busy with shopping and all I hope you all like it, please interact with my works as it helps me !!)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!

you broke up. It's done. All those things just flashed infront of your eyes, the memories, the kisses, the I love yous, it's all gone, he was cheating on you this entire time.

It meant nothing to him, but it meant everything to you all those 4 years went to a vain, he was manipulating you, mental and physical abuse which you ignored because you were so in love with him. They say in love every wrong becomes rights.

"Excuse me, you will catch cold" your dull eyes meet a boy who have freckles. "Are you okay?" He was holding the umbrella above both of you and you nodded yes "tell me, what's bothering you" that's it. You broke down.

He was scared "can I touch you?" He asked and you replied yes causing him to hug you and you cried harder. "Let's get you home, you will get sick yeah?" You nodded.

"I don't know where you live" that guy said "oh, I'm felix, lee felix" he smiled at you "im y/n and I live here" you pointed him your block "no way, i live here" he smiled "your smile gives comfort" you looked down "well, see you soon" he said "don't you wanna come in?" You turned around

"wouldn't it be a problem for you?" He looked at you "not really" you look dull "well we can-" you were cut off my him "I can come some other day okay?" He smiled and went back waving you goodbye.

It has been 3 months since the break up, will you say you're over him? no. You haven't met that guy since that day, you wanted to show him your gratitude.

"Oh my God, we met finally, I was waiting for you to call me, I'm hurt that you didn't" that voice. You turned around to see it was your ex. You wanted to run away. He grabbed your wrist "let's go yeah?" You grabbed his hand which was holding your hand "you're inflicting me pain".

"Me? i could never ever hurt you" He yelled "it's you who hurts me, you know I love you" you were going to give in but his grasp was so tight, you were pretty sure you have bruise now.

"Look she is hurt, let her go mister" ah that freckle boy you saw, he had 7 more ppl they all look so strong "okay whatever you got new people to fuck, enjoy being a slut".

You were crying, again. You were hurt, again.

"I dare you to say that again" the freckle boy said "she is a-" he stopped "whatever, she is a pathetic whore" uh oh "that's it" felix walked towards him and you tugged him, his eyes soften.

You were there, you can't hear anything. "Hey, yn you're okay?" You smiled and walked away. You were so dumb, stupid, so in love.

Felix ran upto you. "Hey, let's go out" he said, the freckled boy heard a whimper as he turn around he saw you crying. Soon you bursed into tears

"Was I not good enough?" You dont know him, yet you trust him.

Here you are, it has been 2 years since that messy break up took place, you and felix have been extremely close, he is studying computer science and you're doing law.

It's peaceful being with him. Comfortable silence you know? It's not awkward.

"Yn" he called you out

| say my name and everything just stops |

"Yes?" You looked at him. Oh how you melted. "I bought KitKat for you!" He exclaimed smilingly. "You remember?"

"Obviously baby" ah. That nickname which makes you wanna scream, yell, rip off your hairs, you were flabbergasted. He held his hands out "let's go?" And you hold his hand back 'webtoon typa shit' you told yourself.

You were walking peacefully when felix told you to go back you were confused and you heard someone call out your name as you turn back, him.

you were in shock. Felix pulled your hand and you both started walking away. "I didn't feel anything" you were dull "I moved on" you smiled and felix wiped your tears.

It's okay yn, you did it, you thought to yourself.

felix was knocking at your door while saying "yn yn yn yn yn yn-" you finally opened the door "oh my god what do you want, it's 3 am, 3 AM!" You looked at him "it actually 3:15 am but nevermind I saw your lights on so I thought to check up on you" wow, wait what? "What were doing late night?" You looked concerned "Stop making that face or else you will get wrinkles".

Deadass. "Okay okay I wasn't able to sleep" you stopped blocking the door and he let himself in, he saw all the notes, books scattered "Woah there, you're cramming?" He looked at you "im sleepy" you said "you ain't wearing a bra?" He was flabbergasted "buffon, I will sleep and you expect me to wear bra while I'm at my room?".

Fair point.

"Let's sleep" felix took your hands and turned off the lights "you can sleep?" You looked at him "my room was cold and I guess I need something warm enough" he smiled while you both lay down. "What are we?" You both looked at eachother, he replied "anything you wants us to be" oh that stupid smile.

| I don't want you like my bestfriend |

Your head was resting on felixs arm. You both were close. Very close. But you were too sleepy to notice anything. Once you closed your eyes felix heard your snores and you turned to him while grabbing his waist. It's normal for you both to cuddle.

In your dream you both had a family and cute little family, where he took care of you both. It was amazing.

You woke up and saw him holding you tightly as if you were a glass which he doesn't want to let you go and slip so that you will break. The way when you broke he picked every piece of you. He is holding you so that you don't break again.

Your heart flutters, bestfriends feels like this right? Once you removed his hair covering his forehead "yes angel?" He looked at you. You are stucked. You just wanna be his.

Today's class was so hectic "lix" you yelled while hugging him and you saw his friend circle "ayo how's you" minho looked at you, you smiled at him.

Oh how jealous he was "soooooooo" hyunjin came and looked at you "Are you dating?" Hyunjin got a no from you "let's go on a date then".

Felix stopped working. "Well I like certain someone if something doesn't work with them, you can be my side chick" you winked at him.

"If he can't fuck you, you're most welcome to come towards me, I bet my fingers will help you" he smiled "anyways" you looked at felix "why don't we watch some movies".

Felix. His name gives you endorphins. You just want him to hold you. "Morning" you heard while you met him on your way to shopping market "youre coming with me" he smiled at your command "Where are we going?" He laughed.

While you were trying on cloths he was taking your packages "how's this dress?" He looked at you "wow, you look amazing" he whispered as if something took his breathe away "look at the back it's so pretty" backless. It was backless.

Right now at the party you were wearing the same outfit with heels and red lipstick. People were looking at you. Felix was definitely flabbergasted.

| only bought this dress so you can take it off |

Here you were kissing him while holding his collars and his knee on between your legs. You were at his place. While whimpering and grinding on his knee while he was kissing you "you looked so pretty, hard to touch". He said as he started removing your heels.

From lips to legs he kissed every inch of your body. "You're so ethereal honey" he removed your dress, you felt so surreal. "I love you" you said it, you were vulnerable and you did. "I love you too, my love"

"Fuck youre this wet?" You were shy "im sorry" you looked away "why are you apologizing?" He looked at you "my ex told me being wet is bad, it means im a slut and get turned on by everyone" you looked at him.

"Oh fuck that bitch, being wet is good and normal there's nothing to apologize for, my love" he took you to his bed.

"Ethereal" he look at your face, "I can fuck you better than hyunjin".

"May I have your consent?" He looked at you "yes darling" he took off his cloths and your bra and panties "wow, I got no words, I'm so mesmerized by you"

He played with your clit causing you to moan, and then he licked your pussy while playing with your clit, you grabbed his hair, while trying to close your leg between which you were unable to due to his head.

"I will come please please" he smiled while inserting the finger and playing with the clit.

Your head rested on your bed "oh you came" you smiled and you looked so fucked up, "how do you feel?" You were not able to answer at all "your leg is still shaking? You won't be able to handle me take rest baby".

"No no no I need you please" you grabbed him while crying "okay okay okay, have me all you want" he said while wearing the condom.

He said while inserting himself and grabbed him so hard, it felt amazing and you screamed, "aw are you feeling good?" He said while thrusting himself "you're so cute" he smiled.

"Felix" you moaned and clenched so hard "fuck baby, you're clenching so hard" you're about to cum and he is too.

He went deep and slow "felix" you screamed and came and he came inside you.

It's morning, "sleeping beauty smh" hyunjin was walking while you woke up and you had cloths on? How? "hyujin, how many times I gotta tell you? This is real life not some texting shit" minho glared at him "whatever" hyunjin threw his head back "180 degree, 20 minutes" once hyunjin heard it, he shut up.

"Yn you're up" bangchan looked at you the atmosphere was too serious "okay I pull up" you said thinking it will lift the vibes "that's the worst way you can try to change the atmosphere, yn you have skill issues" minho walked.

"So are you two official?" Changbin interrupts "what are you talking about?".

"You're wearing his clothes the hell bro?" Jisung said while drinking coffee, you layed down on his bed and turned facing his bed while kicking your feet and giggling, "are you stupid?" Seungmin added "stupidly in love with felix" you mumbled but you were pretty sure no one was able to catch it as your face was pressed into the bed.

"Pardon?" Jeongin asked "nothing" you got up "where's felix?" Once you looked at the guys, you saw they guys closed their eyes, "yn wear pants" chan scolded you "im wearing look" you lifted your shirt but they still didn't open their eyes.

"You know what I will find felix" you sighs heavily, while walking towards kitchen "you're awake" he made a comment "so about yesterday, what are we" you asked him "clearly not bestfriend" he laughed.

"Gimme kiss" you pouted "brush your teeth" he looked at you "okay daddy" you walked away.

Once you were back you saw the guys at the kitchen "you both had sex?" chan banged his hands to the table "okay okay it happened but I like her and she likes me too, it's mutual" chan saw you.

"You didn't even said that to me?" Chan looked so hurt. "You didn't even said you liked her" chan looked at you "I thought I don't have chance so it would've been better".

"You betrayed me" chan looked at you "you know the time, when we heard chan moaning it's cause he was sending a girl memos of him moaning and she gave him money" everyone gasped "how did you know?" Chan exclaimed while pointing at felix "who told you" the pointing fingers turned into minho "you're a death meat" minho looked away.

"Minho have a third nipple" chan exclaimed "you bitch" minho gasped while everyone looking at him "hyunjin pays money to girls to tell him he's a bad boy, and degrade him" minho pointed him "if im going down im taking everyone with me" minho smiled proudly.

"Guy's we are forgetting felix and yn are dating" changbin reminds "okay so we didn't confess but yn would you like to be my girlfriend?" He looked at you "I can't comprehend what just happened but yes I would love too and minho you have a third nipple?" You smiled "don't remind them" minho whispered.

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dollyyun · 1 month

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All I can say is " Puja, what is this behavior?" 💀💀💀

best look on him actually🫶🏻he's sooo cool fr🥹i feel protective over him tbh especially when he never gets a break from backlashes and hates since debut like give him a damn break pls🙏🏻

#user: sousydive #ruby's moots!#ruby's inbox!

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nainawithspecs · 5 months

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A little Rohini piece because I think she is extremely cool and also extremely underrated!

Rohini is not a woman of a lot of words.

And this is not particularly a secret to anyone in Vrindavan. She partakes occasionally in the discussions of milk and grains, lends a hand to Nanda in politics and calculations, sneaks in a suggestion to Krishna for clevering his antics here and there, but, ultimately, finds peace in curling up by the window, the afternoon sunlight falling languidly on the book in her hand.

She is unsure, then, of how exactly it is that she gets roped into being the head of entertainment for the little girls of the village, that too for a full evening.

The adults are off to a wedding in the neighboring village, the boys are out frolicking in the fields, and the girls, not allowed out in the dark alone, are staring up at her with expectant eyes from where they sit cross legged on the ground.

“What,” she begins, and hopes her tone does not betray the confusion she feels. “Would you all like to do?”

“Can we play battle like the one they show in the nataks?” one from the fifteen responds, her red bindi rising with her eyebrows in eagerness.

“I do not think that would be very wise,” Rohini states, and the abundance of knives as well as children in the house, alongwith the lack of battleground proportions of space makes her believe she is right to do so. She would like to return the girls to their parents with all their organs intact.

“We could weave a garland then?”

This time it comes from the front, from the girl in braids and a blue choli. Radha.

The unofficial leader of the gopis and the partner in crime in most of her nephew’s mischiefs, smiles excitedly at Rohini, and animatedly adds, “I saw Yashoda Kaki bring in a basket full of flowers today. We could all sit around and weave it together.”

Most of the girls nod in agreement.

It is not a bad idea at all, but, “She had to use all of them for the puja this morning, I am afraid.”

Radha’s moon-like face falls, and Rohini feels a slight pang of regret.

The kid just beside Radha immediately declares. “Take us to the wedding. I heard the food there is delicious.”

“It will be over by now, Lali,” Radha pouts, looking into the distance.

“And we can not go to a wedding empty handed,” a girl from the middle row pipes up, seemingly scandalized. “Right, Kaki?”

Rohini hides an amused smile at the exchange. “Quite right. And besides,” she looks over at the bright young faces. “I must confess, I happen to be completely in the dark in regard to whose nuptials are even taking place.”

The girls exchange glances among themselves. There seems to be a silent mutual understanding when Radha leans ahead to whisper conspiratorially, “Us too, Kaki.” A pause. “I think that is why we were not invited.”

Rohini leans ahead too, and drops her voice to her level. “I think that is why I was not invited either.”

The young ladies break out in giggles and Rohini, surprisingly, finds herself joining them.

“Weddings should be about food, not the names.” Lali huffs. “Nobody cares about them.”

“True. The fight over food makes better stories than most of the bride and grooms,” another girl, adorned with green bangles and a leaf crown, asserts.

Radha suddenly gasps, deep brown eyes lighting up. “Kaki! Why don’t you tell us a story? I have seen you reading everyday. You must know so many.”

There is murmur of agreement in the gathering and Rohini is surprised that why had she not thought of it.

“Yes,” Rohini breathes out, “I do know quite a few.” She may perhaps not be a words person, but stories to her had always been more about art rather than language. More a painting rather than ink. “And to suit the occasion, some of them happen to involve weddings too.”

There is a cheer from the gathering as Rohini beacons them closer. This time, the expectant eyes and eager expression are more than welcome as she begins, “There was once a king who wanted to marry a princess from a different culture. She agreed but first placed two demands about her god and freedom…”

When the boys come back, they are shocked to see the gopis chatting away with Rohini late into the night, hanging on each and every word of hers like a sacred thread.

When the grown ups come back, at the crack of dawn, they are left confused at the sight of kids asleep around Rohini in Yashoda’s aangan, as the crisp, almost orange light falls on the royal princess reading between the dozing forms, lightly stroking Radha’s hair who’s asleep on her lap.

(Years later, when Krishna kills Kansa and becomes the Lord of Mathura, when Subhadra comes into their world and when all Vrindavan is allowed to be is a distant unimportant village, Rohini weaves a tale to her daughter to lull her into a slumber and dares not dwell on why her heart recalls a hazy laughter filled evening and hurts itself so.)

#rohini #desiblr #hindu mythology women #hindu mythology #desi mythology #desi #hindu mythology moodboard #indian mythology #mythology #desi aesthetic #desi academia #mine #spot the jodhaa akbar refrence #indian moodboard #mahabharata #mahabharat aesthetic #krishna #radha

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ramayantika · 1 year

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Maa told me something about puja. I don't do puja regularly it's very rare like three times in five months or something. And everytime maa tells me that why don't you do puja I say "yaar mera krishna ka acha bannta hai he knows everything aur mein toh dinbhar mann mein chappar chaplar karti hu uske sath"

Then a few days ago maa said on phone, "beta tumhara boyfriend ho aur tum bahut pyaar karti hu but you don't do anything for him. Na koyi hig na kabhi uska mann pasand khana bannana na kahin usse leke jana bas mann mein kehdo ki haan I love you a lot ya phir tera boyfriend agar tere sath same kare kabhi tere paas baithe nahi na kuch kare affection dikhaye nahi bas kahe I love you so much in my mind jaan toh kya relationship chalega? Nahi na. Break up hoga ki nahi.

Me: haan ji obviously break up hoga

Mummy: toh bhagwan ke sath aisa kyu? Jis krishna ke piche itna hoti ho itna krti ho usike paas ek chota sa phool arpan nahi karti 2 min tak unke paas baithti nahi bilkul. Bhagwan ko family maanti ho toh family ke sath aisa treat karte hain? Beta, it's not about following tradition and rituals, even I don't do all of it. This is about treating god the same way you do to your family, your boyfriend whatever. Bhagwan itna karta hai selfless hai jo bhi wouldn't he too want some love and affection. Why else is krishna prem ka bhooka?

Me: .......

#samridhi speaks #desiblr #hindublr #I cry to krishna for every thing and suddenly I ended up seeing krishna in my head being sad because I don't sit near his moorti much excep #when I am sad

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wexhappyxfew · 9 months

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AND THEN THE DAWN CAME

OC masterlist for the band of brothers fic

tags to look at: #attdc #and then the dawn came #esther armstrong #mercy codona, etc….

ESTHER ‘ESSIE’, ‘FUBAR’, ARMSTRONG

-> war correspondent for the us airborne (101st, company E), trying to make a name for herself in this world by telling the stories that no one wants to tell

MERCY ‘HALF-PINT’ CODONA

-> war photographer for the us airborne (101st, company E), esther armstrong’s most trusted companion, running from her past into a future that’s nothing more than a blur. at least a camera can keep her in the present

MARGARETA ‘MARGOT’ GERINGHER

-> double agent for the SIS in britain, proclaimed legally dead by the world it seems, but is doing everything she can to get back at the germans, even pushing herself to the breaking point to get revenge on her mother

LUCY GARDNER

-> rogue SOE agent with a foggy past, previously having graduated from oxford, having been stranded in both the desert in north africa and the bavarian alps, now running with the red devils to invade normandy

ROLANDE PELLETIER

-> member of the maquis with ties to a few prison cycles in marseilles, partaking in the normandy operations, paired with a stubborn oss agent who does nothing more than sit quietly

MILDRED ‘ MILLIE’ CARTER

-> oss agent with a traumatizing history in berlin, now freed and escaped, but with a heavy burden on her shoulders, trying to make up for something or other without getting too close to the sun

YVETTE ST. CLAIR

-> ex maquis member, previously on the run, who lost everything but a wrist watch through the war, and is doing nothing more than trying to save the lives of people she can still save, having found herself in normandy

JEANNIE DESCHAMPS

-> maquis member, who works covertly as a translator, knowing 5 languages, trying to save the life of a russian sniper after a freak break-out from a prison cycle in marseilles, who says knew her missing brother

MIRIAM ‘MITZI’ ZAKHAROVA KASATKINA

-> russian sniper who found herself tangled in the lives of vichy, france, and was tried for far too many counts alongside the brother of a maquis member who helped to get her out

PADMAVATI ‘PUJA’ SOLANKI

-> member of the british 8th army, working as a translator of 5 languages, who has a chance run-in with a few people from her past and a fellow oxford graduate

#and then the dawn came #attdc #band of brothers #band of brothers fic #bob fic #bob ocs #band of brothers ocs #THE LADIES!!!!#the ladies of attdc! :)#probably some of the fav moodboards i’ve made for them!!#esther armstrong

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golden-earcuffs · 1 year

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Pavitr Prabhakar Headcanons Part 2 (Festival Special)

I'm back with headcanons, this time focusing on our precious boy during our festivals!

He's heart broken when girls start avoiding him during Rakshabandhan (the Indian festival where girls tie Rakhi on their brother's wrist. Usually this happens in family but a lot of boys-girls who consider each other brother-sister do this as well) because he's always wanted a sister. (Well sorry Pavitr but I won't want you as a brother).

Has played Hanuman in Ram-Leela (the stage play of Ramayan, a major Hindu Epic) in Dusshehra (we celebrate the victory of Good over Evil). Wanted to be Shri Ram but was told that he's more of a Krishna than Ram.

BECOMES GOVINDA DURING KRISHNA JANMASHTAMI (the birth of Shri Krishna)!!! Ofc he does, he loves breaking the pot of maakhan (butter).

Ganesh Chaturthi (the birth of Lord Ganesh) is his favourite festival, dresses up the best during this, silk blue kurta with sleeves rolled up and plain white pajamas complete with mojri (a type of shoes).

Has cried once during Visarjan (immersion of idols of Bhagwan Ganesh after the end of festival) while screaming "agle baras tu jaldi aa!!" ("next year, come soon, God!")

Goes to his Muslim friends' house during Eid because sevai is delicious.

LOVES DIWALI. Would never forget to bring lotuses for Maa Lakshmi during the Puja. (and then jokingly say "Ma I brought you your favourite thing now you give me mine" and avsolutely refuses to say what he wants because "Ma already knows")

Lights up the entire house with Diyas only during Diwali and makes it look more serene than lights.

Cannot talk properly during Holi (festival of colors) because his mouth is always stuffed with gujia, malpua or Dahi Bara. Also his clothes in Holi are as colorful as his face.

Visits Gurudwara (the Sikh place of Worship) on the birth date of the Gurus because again the lungar is soo good.

Lol I typed this so fast and as soon as ideas came into my mind. More will come.

#pavitr prabhakar headcanons #pavitr prabhakar #spiderman india #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman headcanons #just desi things #desi #desi tumblr #desiblr #desi tag

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thatchaoticdesigirl · 1 year

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It's that time of the year again...

The city has been cleansed with the after showers of monsoon. Blue sky peeking through fluffy clouds resembling the cotton candy carried by the street vendors. The smell of durga puja coming in through the open windows. Standing outside Kumortuli is a small smiling face in shabby clothes and dirty hair. The departure of idols might be significant for the whole city, but not for the little boy whose father will be coming home after months of crafting the inanimate joy that would fill the city for the next 10 days.

The single mother spent her bonus on the little piece of jwellery she had seen her daughter longingly looking at in Gariahat. The transferred father took a few extra days off. A son remembered his father on the banks of the Ganges, while the recently widowed woman longingly glanced at the idol's red saree. They felt what the poets may describe as peace and happiness but for them it was just plain old durga puja.

She arrived with her children, shaking the whole city from its slumber, a ray of hope within the gloomy times. Every year she arrives with the same smiling face and listens to all our problems. To the lost boy trying to find his place in society, to the queer person trying to figure out why they were wrong, to the girl who never saw her father after that day in court, to the lady who never knew what happened to her daughter the night she went out with her friends. Lives filled with tragedy after tragedy lie at Maa's feet asking for a way ahead. Maa listens. She gives them hope and sometimes tragedies do go away. The boy lands a job while the queer person is invited back to their family. The girl recieves a gift from her father while the lady cries at the station,report in hand. Maybe not happy endings, but closure. That's what Maa gives. Hope is just the surface of the abyss of our mind which actually seeks closure.

The bright lights and bamboos wrapped in colourful clothes stand as a symbol of the hardwork of all those people who worked relentlessly to make this festival a pathway to overcome tragedy. The people live another day to fight, blessed by Maa.

At the break of dawn on Mahalaya, someone replaces the oxygen with adrenaline, and for 10 days, the city does not sleep.

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celestesinsight · 7 months

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February 14, 2024!

Somedays make you go down the rabbit hole of nostalgia!

Some old memories of Saraswati Puja.

I woke up and disjointly watched Subhy (my nephew) go to school. What perturbed me, was not that he was going to school, but he was going to school in uniform and with bag. When I asked Nani (elder sister in Odia) why he is going to school with books on Saraswati Puja, she informed me he didn't have a holiday today.

I had never felt the ache of leaving home much more than that moment. It was the realisation that things are going to different from now on and I couldn't fall back into the safety net of familiarity from now on.

If I had been at home, I would have helped Puchu in getting ready for her school in new dress. Then we would have offered pushpanjali to the brass idol of Goddess Saraswati in our puja room. We would have placed her books and new pencils and my new pens in front of Maa for blessing. She would have gone to school for puja and I would have met my friends.

This has always been my ritual for Saraswati and Ganesh Puja. Before Puchu's birth, I used to do this alone. I love buying new pens and keeping them near the Deities and using them for the whole year. I have started this ritual when I was in school myself. Another perk of my ritual was that I didn't have to study until the books are kept in front of Maa.

Now Puchu follows my habits. But this year, I couldn't complete my ritual. I just lit a diya in front of Maa.

With the memory of the discontinued ritual, also came the memory of those school days when I used to go to the school and tuition and celebrate Saraswati Puja. That anxious waiting for the priest's arrival as they were always late. They used to do puja at many places after all. Then the yearning for the Homa Yajna to complete soon so that we could offer pushpanjali and break coconuts. It was a competition to see who could break a coconut in a single blow. First we would get delicious boodi Sev prasad and there would be a feast later. The teachers would keep reminding us not to waste any food. The icing on the cake was the superstition that if you study on Saraswati Puja, you would turn into a fool, that we used to take full advantage of.

Then, in college, daunting as well as liberating realisation that we had to organise the Puja on our own without any help or intervention from faculty. The whole process of preparing a budget, collecting contributions from all the students, purchasing puja samagri and decoration materials, planning the feast, decorating the hall with friends and then finally making sure everything goes well on the day of the Puja.

Sometimes, I wish to go back to those simpler times, when everything was fun and joyful. But of course, I can't as I don't have time travel machine. So I distracted myself with the photos sent by my cousins of Puja at their college. I am glad, they are enjoying this phase of their life and making beautiful memories.

Pictures sent by my cousins.

#diary post #february diaries #feeling nostalgic #down the memory lane #saraswati puja #basant panchami 2024 #basantpanchami #odiablr #desiblr #desi tumblr #goddess saraswati

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jiminiminycrickerrttt · 2 months

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my thoughts on religion that nobody asked for :)

Like many Hindu children, I had my annaprashan (a first rice ceremony) at 7 months old. Bengalis tend to believe that odd months (5 and 7) are particularly auspicious times to hold such ceremonies for baby girls. Conversely, baby boys would have their annaprashans on even months. Immigrating to Canada left us in a desperate search for community and companionship, the best place to find this, of course, was by connecting with any given Hindu Society in any given county. I remember attending various pujas for various deities, having a shallow understanding of their lores and mythologies, and learning the different songs and hymns used to worship them to sing on a stage after the evening prayers.

Scindia Kanya Vidyalaya, the girls-only boarding school that I attended for 5th and 6th grade when we lived in Gwalior had a 97% Hindu majority student body. We celebrated the usual holidays, of course, though this time the performances and sermons were more spectacular, and were held in an auditorium instead of a rented out church basement. We were given days off from our classes, special meals, and were able to wear clothes and accessories that were not a part of our uniforms. Despite all of the pomp and circumstance, I can’t seem to remember exactly why we were celebrating these holidays. I haven’t attended a formal puja in 6 years.

When I was around 7, I remember a particularly eclectic aunty showing up to a Bengali function. She had just flown in from her travels around Nepal, proudly proclaiming that she was a newly converted Buddhist. From her purse she pulled out a Sanskrit prayer book filled with Buddhist chants that she could not read. She had English transcriptions of each syllable under each line that told her how to pronouncers each phrase and which words to stress and not stress. Regardless, she made a show of praying aloud in front of everyone before dinner, and vowed to learn how to read Sanskrit as a step in her path to enlightenment.

Many of the other guests were not particularly impressed by her, but my mother was taken immediately. She asked the aunty where she purchased her copy of the Vinaya Pitaka and was immediately gifted the spare one which had been kept in her bag in case she was asked this very question. For six months afterwards, my mom would pray every single morning and every single night, chanting those same repetitive lines over and over and over again, buying more books with insights into the teachings of Gautama. She however, did not need handwritten English transcriptions. She would follow up those prayers with a solid 20 minutes of silent meditation, and would break that silence to scold me every time I tried to distract her. I can’t recall exactly when she stopped praying, and I can’t find any of those books that she bought in the house today.

That same year, she became friendly with our neighbours, whose names I cannot remember. What I can remember is the smell of khoresh fesenjoon the mother would make while preparing for Iftar during the days she would babysit me after school while my mother was at work. She taught me how to determine which direction north/northeast was when praying, explained Mecca to me, how it was the holiest, most sacred piece of land in the universe, and shook me awake when I would fall asleep on the prayer rug. I once asked her if she was bald under her hijab, she then asked me if I was empty in the head.

The language they spoke, the way they kneeled down to pray, and the kameezes and kurtas and saris they would wear for religious holidays all bore a striking resemblance to Hinduism for me, at that age I don’t even think I thought of them as different religions. But there was something much more intimate, much more profound that I could sense in the way that they prayed. For years afterwards I would dream of Mecca as a magical, spiritual, fantastical city with glittering stone pathways and magnificent towering marble architecture that could solve all of one’s problems and conquer all of one’s fears just by existing. I also remember vividly seeing gigantic orange dragons in those same dreams. To this day I cannot draw any correlation between the two, but whenever I think of Islam, I think of dragons.

In 2015, shortly after we moved back to Canada, my mother and I were baptized. At the time there were no Hindu societies in the Drayton Valley-Devon area, but there was one single Multicultural society. Once again in search of community we joined it immediately. The president of the Multicultural society, Bharti Khulisia, was an Indonesian woman of Indian descent who had lived in Drayton Valley for over 15 years. She was married to a foul-mouthed (though well-meaning) man named Dennis who has some sort of generic but lucrative job in the trades. Bharti Aunty told me that I reminded her of her granddaughter, and told my mother that she reminded her of herself when she was younger. Immediately, we were hooked. She was also a devout Christian who had gone on missions across South America. She would take my mom to church on most Sundays, who began taking me shortly after. I remember being annoyed at having to stand during the 20 (twenty!!!) minutes of singing at the beginning of each session, and otherwise being mostly indifferent towards the sermons. I did enjoy the post-church barbecues, though.

Months after we began attending church, Bharti Aunty convinced my mother to get us both baptized for reasons that I can’t quite recall (again). I had to write a small speech about finding Christ, was dunked into a hot tub of cold water at some sort of ceremonial hall, and was given a free t-shirt to change into and a baptismal certificate afterward. Neither of which I can find today.

When I started making my own money, I bought copies of each religious book and scanned them over again to see if anything would resonate, if anything would stick. The Quran (the Hindi translation, sorry), the Bible (which I skimmed, admittedly), the Bhagavad Gita (took me a solid eight months to get through that thing), and the Vinaya Pataka (I’ll get around to reading the other two Patakas eventually) were all profound in their own respective ways, all evoked emotion and revelation, all managed to mould and shape my morality, and all seemed to kill my perception of what I thought God was. The problem that I had not anticipated was that everything, in fact, had stuck.

Fortunately by then, I had discovered mathematics. The insurmountable weight that was taken off my shoulders when I realized that everything was a statistical anomaly and/or prediction, when billions upon billions of years of physics and chemistry and biology happily worked together to create the world that we live in, that the reason we are here on this earth, asking these questions and contemplating these concepts is simply due to the unknowable mathematical coding of the universe that dictated the consecutive major events that gave us consciousness in the first place, cannot be overstated. It was so immensely freeing to place all of my beliefs onto something far greater and far more complex than I could ever fathom, something so beyond me that I didn’t even need to fully understand it to know that it was there. To believe in something unshakable, to base my beliefs in something that surpassed the powers and expectations of any being on earth. To read through my math textbooks, to listen to TED-Talks in order to gain insight and clarity on my silly little mortal problems.

But what if I’m wrong? What if there is a God? And what if they are angry at me, positively incensed at me for denying them completely? Do I place my bets based on the statistical evidence of how likely it is for a single religion to be true? If I do end up in hell, will I be satisfied that I remained steadfast to my beliefs or will I spend an eternal punishment being regretful that I had not subscribed to the correct one?

Isn’t questioning your faith one of the biggest components of being faithful anyways?

#religion #islam #christianity #hinduism #buddhism #atheism #extremely rushed and a bit sloppy but I could not sleep until I wrote it all out <3

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