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vintagediorprincess · 2 months ago

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𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓸𝓽 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓶𝓮

𝑜𝓁𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓍𝓁 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

you opened the front door with a lazy smile, still laughing to yourself about something your best friend had said at dinner. the night air clung to your skin, your cheeks warm from wine and hours of talking nonsense with the girls

the house was dim—quiet. not the warm, welcoming silence of a home at rest. it was… still. Weird.

you took off your shoes by the door and padded toward the living room, calling softly “Ax? You still up?”

there was a beat of silence. then his voice, low and unmistakably irritated, came from the couch

“Oh, so now you remember I exist?”

your heart dropped

you stepped in, eyes adjusting to the faint blue glow of the paused movie screen. Axl sat there, legs stretched out, arms crossed over his chest like a sulky king on a worn leather throne. he hadn’t even changed—still in the same soft black tee and pajama pants he’d put on after dinner. his red hair was slightly mussed and his face was taut, eyes narrowed and tired.

you swallowed “Shit. Baby, I—I forgot. I thought the movie night is tomorrow.”

he didn’t answer

you crossed the room, kneeling beside him “Axl, I’m so sorry. We started talking and—”

“I even made stupid popcorn” he cut in, still not looking at you “Picked the dumb vampire movie you love. Sat here for an hour like a damn idiot thinking maybe you got stuck in traffic or something.”

you looked at the untouched bowl on the coffee table, the two glasses of wine

guilt punched through your chest “I didn’t mean to forget. I literally thought it’s tomorrow—”

“That’s not the part that pisses me off” he snapped, finally looking at you “You didn’t text. You didn’t call. You didn’t even check in. Like you didn’t give a shit about me calling you a hundred times.”

his voice cracked, just slightly

you reached for his hand, gently coaxing it from his lap “Axl… I do give a shit. I give all the shits. I didn’t see you calling… I really —messed up.”

he let you take his hand but didn’t soften. his jaw worked like he was chewing on more words he wasn’t sure he wanted to say. then:

“I was looking forward to this all damn week” he muttered “Not the movie. Just—being with you. Finally having some alone time with you because we don’t even get to have a 5 minutes for ourselves in the week days.”

your heart squeezed

“I know” you whispered, crawling into his lap, straddling him like it was instinct “I fucked up and you’re right to be mad. I deserve the cold shoulder and whatever petty revenge you’re planning”

that earned a faint twitch of his mouth “I wasn’t planning revenge.”

“Really? Not even, like… hiding my favorite pajama pants or deleting my Netflix profile?”

he exhaled through his nose “...Maybe.”

you kissed his cheek, then his jaw “I love you. I hate that I hurt you. Let me make it up to you.”

axl grumbled under his breath but finally slid his arms around your waist “You’re full of shit, you know that?”

you nuzzled close “Next time, I’ll set alarms. Tattoo the plan on my forehead. Write it in blood.”

he gave you a long look “What the fuck is wrong with you…” he said with faint smile “And don’t joke. You forget again, I’m watching Titanic by myself and pretending you drowned.”

you snorted, burying your face in his neck “You’re so dramatic.”

“Damn right I am. I’m old, married, and I just got stood up for movie night. Let me sulk.”

you leaned back and looked at him—really looked. the grumpiness, the soft sadness in his eyes, the leftover vulnerability he always tried to hide

“I love you” you said slowly

axl finally kissed you, rough and unforgiving at first, then melting into something softer. when he pulled back, he sighed and grabbed the remote

“You’re lucky I didn’t finish it without you.”

you smiled “Thank you your honor. And you’re lucky I brought cheesecake.”

he raised an eyebrow. “Cheesecake first. Then vampires. Then we’re even.”

you pressed a kiss to his nose “Deal, old man.”

he grunted “Call me that again and we’re watching The Notebook next week.”

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vintagediorprincess · 2 months ago

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"𝓓𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓮𝓷𝓭"

𝓈𝓁𝒶𝓈𝒽 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

the sun was unbearable. in that slow, sticky way that crept over your skin. sweat beaded at your temples as you laid out on the striped pool chair, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of your nose.

somewhere inside the house, you heard muffled guitar and a burst of laughter. Duff and Izzy were definitely day-drunk already. Axl nowhere in sight and Steven... well Steven. but you weren’t paying attention to any of them.

you were watching Slash.

he was in the pool, arms slung over the edge, curls slicked back, sunglasses half-fogged from the heat, a cigarette burned low between his fingers. the wet sheen on his chest, the lazy sprawl of his body—it all looked like a magazine cover you weren’t allowed to touch

except you had touched it. last night, this morning, last week against the wall of a green room in Detroit

but he wasn’t the kind of guy you claimed. not publicly. not yet.

still the tension between you crackled like a live wire. always had.

“You keep staring like that, you’re gonna make me blush” Slash called out voice raspy from weed and chlorine

you arched an eyebrow behind your shades. “You blushing? That’ll be the day”

he grinned lazily and flicked his cigarette into the pool skimmer “Come in, it's so hot out here”

you stretched, slow and intentional “Maybe.”

you saw his gaze drag down your body as you stood—his mouth parting slightly when your bikini bottom caught on your hip just right. you walked to the edge of the pool, gave him one more look, and dove in

the water was sharp and cold, a welcome slap against the heat. when you surfaced, he was right there, inches away

“You’re a tease” he murmured, voice thick now “You know that?”

you shrugged, threading water through your fingers “And?”

Slash backed you toward the wall of the pool, chest brushing yours, water rippling between your bodies. “And you’re gonna get me in trouble.”

“You’re the one who followed me in.”

“You’re the one who wore that.”

you leaned in, lips barely grazing his “You wanna do something about it or just stand there looking pretty?”

he didn’t answer.

he grabbed your waist and shoved you up against the side of the pool with a splash, mouth crashing into yours. the kiss was rough, frantic, messy. you tasted heat and smoke and Slash’s unique flavor—something between sin and surrender

he groaned into your mouth when your hands slid down his back, over the soaked denim clinging tight to his hips.

“You came in wearing jeans?” you asked breathlessly, tugging at the waistband.

“Didn’t expect to get wet,” he muttered, lips against your throat. “Then you walked out looking like that.”

you laughed at him and he just splashed you with water "You're so dumb..." you said still laughing and he just rolled his eyes

you kissed him again, nipping his lower lip “Off. Now.”

he grinned against your lips “Yes, boss.”

you pushed off from the wall, him dragging you to the back part of the pool - that was separated from the main part by bushes - because "No one comes here anyway". he was sitting at the shallow steps while the water sloshed violently as you worked together—him fumbling with his fly, you tugging at wet denim. it was awkward and hot and desperate and when you finally got him out of those jeans, you practically climbed onto him

“Fuck” he breathed when you wrapped your hand around his cock “You're gonna kill me.”

“Wouldn’t be a bad way to go.” you said breathlessly as he entered your soaked pussy

he kissed you again and then—

“Jesus” came a voice behind you

you both froze.

over Slash’s shoulder, standing at the edge of the sliding glass door, was Izzy

he had a beer in his hand, sunglasses on, and a completely unreadable expression. his head tilted slightly to the side, like he was taking in a painting at a museum. his lips parted as if he was going to say something…

then he just raised the beer in a lazy half-toast, turned around, and walked away

not a word.

not a smirk.

nothing.

“Did that just happen?” you whispered

Slash was still inside you, his body frozen mid-thrust, like he couldn’t believe it either

“Yep” he said after a beat, laughter starting to bubble in his throat “That was just... Izzy”

you shoved his shoulder “You told me no one would come out here!”

“I didn’t invite Izzy! The fucker moves like a cat in the woods and you know it!”

you stared at the direction where Izzy went for a second… then started laughing. full, shoulder-shaking, red-faced laughter. Slash joined in, still balls-deep inside you, hands gripping your thighs

"Well" you breathed eventually "may as well give him a show now."

"God, I fucking love you," Slash growled, and slammed into you

he fucked you hard and fast against the steps, water sloshing over your shoulders, his grip bruising. you clawed at his back as he bottomed out, over and over, his jaw clenched in restraint

“Keep looking where he went” he muttered, teeth scraping your neck “Maybe he’ll come back.”

you arched into him, eyes fluttering “You want him to watch?”

“Wanna make you loud enough that he hears you through the fucking walls.”

and he did. he pulled you to the middle of the pool next, wrapping your legs around him, thrusting hard under the water, chasing both your releases like he couldn’t get enough

you came first, mouth open in a silent scream, nails digging crescents into his back. Slash followed seconds later, groaning into your collarbone as his hips jerked and stilled

the water around you was rippling with aftershocks.

you both collapsed back against the wall, chest to chest, breath shallow and wild.

later, you were drying off, stealing one of his shirts, when you saw Izzy again—lounging in a deck chair, cigarette between his lips, beer resting on his stomach

he didn’t look up.

he just said "Nice tits."

Slash choked on his whisky. you turned beet red.

and Izzy?

he just smirked, eyes still behind those dark Ray-Bans

///

I can make part 2 of this if you guys want that :3

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vintagediorprincess · 2 months ago

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𝒶𝓍𝓁 𝓇𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓈𝒻𝓌 𝒶𝓁𝓅𝒽𝒶𝒷𝑒𝓉

A = affection

axl can be surprisingly affectionate once he feels safe with someone

early on he’s guarded and stiff but once that wall comes down he becomes warm and touchy in private

he’s not overly clingy but he does have a quiet need to be physically close to the person he loves

hand on your leg while you sit together, casual arm around your waist, pulling you closer while you’re lying in bed

doesn’t like PDA much

he gets weird about people watching and doesn’t trust the press or fans not to twist things

his version of affection often comes through protectiveness

you’re cold? he’ll wrap you in his jacket

someone talks down to you? he’s instantly tense, jaw clenched, tries to fight the person but you always stop him

when he’s really relaxed he gets soft—nuzzling his face into your neck, rubbing his nose against your cheek, holding your hand under the table like it’s a secret or interlocks your pinkies when you two walk hand to hand

B = best friend

once axl really lets you in, you become his person. not just his partner, but the only one he wants to call when something big happens—or when he’s falling apart

he’ll ramble on the phone at 2AM about song ideas, dreams he had, some dumb thing Slash said ten years ago

you’re the one who hears the uncensored versions of his fears, his grudges, and the things that haunt him

he trusts you with your opinions even when they are way different than his

being best friends with axl also means deep loyalty. he’d literally go to the ends of the earth for you

C = cuddling

he’s not a big spoon or little spoon—he’s the tangled-up-like-an-octopus spoon - arms and legs everywhere

cuddling with axl means having his head on your chest one minute and then him pulling you onto his chest the next

he doesn’t usually say much while cuddling, but his body relaxes completely, like he’s finally safe

but when he feels vulnerable he will whisper soft things into your ear

“You’re smell so sweet”

“You feel so small against me baby”

loves laying with you after a long show, still half-sweaty and wound up, needing to come down from the adrenaline crash with your heartbeat in his ear

if you run your fingers through his hair or gently scratch his back, he’ll melt or might even fall asleep on top of you

D = domestic life

domestic axl isn’t domestic AT ALL

but once he settles in, he has his own chaotic rhythm

you’ll find stacks of lyric notes on the counter, boots by the door, burnt cigarettes everywhere

he’s not great at routines as you usually have to reminds him about his vitamins

sometimes he surprises you—making breakfast in the middle of the night, fixing something random in the kitchen, reorganizing his closet just because he couldn’t sleep

loves when you help him decorate the space

he gets sentimental about little touches—like a photo of the two of you on the fridge or your perfume on the sheets

domesticity to him is about comfort so if he feel safe and at home with you, then he feels grounded

E = emotions

axl feels everything deeply, but he’s not great at showing it in healthy ways

his emotions are intense and sometimes unpredictable. he’ll shut down, lash out, or go quiet depending on what’s stirred up

but when he does open up? it’s raw and real. no pretending. he’ll tell you things that make you ache for him

you’ll start to notice his emotional shifts: the way he paces when he’s anxious, how he disappears into music when he’s overwhelmed, how he clings just a little tighter when he’s vulnerable and tired

he trusts you to not judge him. that’s everything to him—someone who doesn’t flinch when he breaks down

F = fights

fights with axl can be brutal because he’s passionate, impulsive, and doesn’t like feeling misunderstood

he’ll raise his voice, pace the room, say things he regrets if he’s really hurt but it comes from fear more than ego

the worst thing for him is feeling ignored or dismissed so if you walk away mid-argument, he’ll spiral

once he cools down he usually wants to fix things. he hates sleeping while something’s unresolved

axl’s learning to listen better over time—but it takes patience. he wants to do better for you

G = gifts

he’s not great at predictable gifts. birthdays, holidays? he usually forget. but when he does give gifts, they’re deeply personal

you’ll get a vintage ring that reminded him of your eyes, hand-written note tucked into your jacket, demo of a song he swears is just for you

he’ll come back from tour with random trinkets—things he picked up just because they made him think of you

doesn’t really care about money when it comes to you. if you mention something once he will buy it without thinking twice and there’s a good chance he’s already planning to surprise you with it

H = hugs

his hugs are intense

full-body, all-consuming, arms tight around your back

if it’s been a hard day, he’ll hug you and not let go for minutes

hugs from behind when you’re cooking or brushing your teeth are usual. he just needs to feel close to you

if you ever initiate the hug, you’ll see that flash of surprise in his eyes—and then he’ll bury his face in your shoulder like he’s home

I = intimacy

axl sees intimacy as something sacred so he doesn’t give it easily

trust is the biggest thing. he won’t fully open up until he knows you’re not going anywhere

he’ll show you pieces of himself slowly—old journals, stories from Indiana, vulnerable thoughts at 3AM

likes when you do the same. he wants to know your soul, not just the surface

his favorite kind of intimacy? quiet moments with no pressure—just laying together, talking about nothing, but feeling everything

J = jealousy

jealousy hits axl harder than he’d ever admit

he tries to play it cool, but if someone gets too close to you or looks at you a certain way, you’ll feel the shift in him instantly

he doesn’t always say something out loud, but his whole vibe changes—arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes locked on whoever just crossed a line

if he does speak up, it’s usually a low, sarcastic comment that cuts just enough to make a point, he’s loves a little passive-aggression when he’s jealous

deep down, it’s not about control—it’s fear

fear that someone better will steal you away

fear that he’ll mess things up and lose the only person who really sees him

reassure him, and he softens immediately - hand on his chest, kiss on his cheek, reminding him he’s the only one you want—that’s all it takes to melt the storm

he hates the feeling, but sometimes he needs to know you’re still his

not in a possessive way—just in a scared, wounded heart way

K = kisses

axl’s kisses range from slow and teasing to hungry and rough

in public it’s usually quick pecks, forehead kisses or lips barely brushing your hand

in private he’ll kiss every inch of your face, neck, and hands like he’s memorizing you

he loves those lazy kisses in bed after you’ve both just woken up

when he really misses you, the kiss is different - urgent. needy. like he’s trying to speak through it

L = love

he doesn’t say it lightly

if he says “I love you” he really means it

you might hear it in a song first or catch it when he thinks you’re asleep

he shows love more than he speaks it—through loyalty, touch, and vulnerability

once he’s in love, he’s all in

there’s no halfway with axl.

M = music

music is his lifeblood—and he loves sharing it with you

you’re often the first person to hear a new idea - he’ll show you rough cuts and ask what you think

sometimes writes lyrics about you but won’t admit it

late night jam sessions, dancing around the house, and lying on the floor with vinyls playing—he loves having music as a shared language

N = nervous habits

when axl's nervous, it's not always obvious—he's learned to mask it pretty well but if you know what to look for it's there in the way he fidgets

he messes with his rings constantly—twisting them, sliding them on and off, tapping them against the nearest surface it's almost subconscious

if he's standing, he paces. not big dramatic steps—just tight, focused little loops like he's burning energy before it burns him

his jaw gets tight, too. you might catch him clenching his teeth or chewing on the inside of his cheek even tho he won't admit it

if you’re near, he'll reach for you. small touches —your wrist, your hoodie string, your hand—just to anchor himself. he won't even realize he's doing it

nervous axl is quiet, intense and on-edge but if you gently talk him down or offer a distraction (like a dumb joke or a song) he’ll slowly ease back into himself

O = opening up

takes time.

years, even

you have to be patient and gentle, but consistent

the first time he opens up about his childhood, it’s messy but after that? he starts trusting you more

eventually, you become his safe place—the one person he doesn’t have to put on a face for

he might start small—telling you about a nightmare or why he avoids certain songs

over time, the walls come down piece by piece. he’ll hand you scraps of himself: a photo from indiana, an old poem, a story about his mom he’s never shared

it’s not always linear. some days he’ll shut down again but when he comes back, he always comes back softer

the more he trusts you, the more you see how tender he truly is—how badly he wants to be understood, even when he doesn’t have the words

when he finally tells you something he’s never told anyone, he watches your face like it’ll decide the rest of his life if you respond with care you’ll see his whole body ease

he may never be the kind of guy who pours his heart out easily—but with you, he tries

P = protection

axl’s protectiveness is primal—bone-deep

the second he senses something off, his whole demeanor changes. he goes from relaxed to pissed in a breath

if someone touches you the wrong way or says something sideways, he’s in their face before you can even process it. doesn’t matter if it’s a friend, a fan, or some industry creep—he has zero patience for disrespect

doesn’t just stand in front of you physically—he commands the space around you. makes it known without words that no one messes with what’s his. that glare? cold and sharp.

even in everyday life, there’s this edge to how he watches over you. keeps a hand on your lower back in crowded rooms. watches people’s body language like a hawk

if you’re upset or crying he gets visibly worked up—furious at whatever (or whoever) hurt you. might pace, might clench his fists, might even leave the room so he doesn’t explode but then he comes back quieter, wraps you up in his arms like he’s shielding you from the world

gets aggressive with the idea of you being in danger. sometimes even snaps about things that haven’t happened just because the thought of losing you rattles him

he’d fight for you, no hesitation. not just metaphorically—physically, if he had to. doesn’t care about consequences if it means keeping you safe

it’s not about control—it’s about fierce loyalty. you’re his peace, his person and if anyone tries to hurt you, they don’t just get “angry Axl”—they get wrath

Q = quiet moments

axl craves quiet more than he lets on

the world around him is loud—shows, press, pressure—so silence with you becomes sacred

you’ll find him at peace in the softest moments: lying beside you with your legs tangled, the flicker of a candle on the nightstand, the low hum of a record spinning in the background

he’s not one for small talk in those moments. he’d rather trace lazy circles on your skin or just listen to you breathe

sometimes he’ll reach for your hand and hold it like it’s grounding him—like it’s proof he’s still here, still safe

it’s in these quiet spaces that he shows you the softest, most unguarded version of himself

no front

no fire

just axl, exhaling against your shoulder, like he finally doesn’t have to carry everything alone

R = romance

axl isn’t into cheesy, cookie-cutter romance

he won’t show up with heart-shaped balloons or choreographed gestures but when he loves you—really loves you—he shows it in ways that hit deeper

he remembers the little things - the song you hummed once while brushing your teeth, the exact way you take your coffee, the way you go quiet when you're overwhelmed and he uses those details to care for you without fanfare—he just does it

he’ll play you songs that remind him of you, even if he won’t explain why. he might not say “this makes me think of you” out loud, but he’ll put the track on and glance at you, and you’ll feel it in the way he looks at you while it plays

sometimes he’ll write for you—notes, lyrics, scribbles on napkins or the backs of receipts. he won’t always show them right away. he might keep them hidden for weeks or years before shyly handing them over with a mumbled

“It’s dumb, but…”

private romance is his comfort zone after all those relationship of his that were ruined mostly because of the press

middle-of-the-night forehead kisses

quiet “be safe”s when you leave

rubbing your back when you’re anxious

holding you in his sleep like it’s instinct, not a decision

that said—when the mood hits, and he feels brave enough—he can be surprisingly tender - roses when you’re sad, a spontaneous getaway, a slow dance in the kitchen, barefoot and soft-eyed, no cameras, no stage. just you and him

S = support

stands behind you fiercely

if you’re chasing a dream he’s cheering loudest

wants to know how your day was, what’s on your mind, how he can help

if you’re upset he’s either ready to fight for you—or hold you until it passes

he might not always say the right thing but he shows up and always tries to show you that he's supporting you

T = trust

trust is the foundation for everything with axl—and also the thing he struggles with most

he’s been betrayed before, in love, in friendship, in business. so when he meets someone new his guard is sky-high

it starts small—he’ll tell you a random story, show you an old lyric he never used, mention a feeling he doesn’t usually say out loud and he watches how you react

if you’re steady if you listen without trying to fix him or judge him or dig too deep too fast—that’s when something shifts

it’s not linear. he’ll open up one day, then pull back the next but if you stick around through the push and pull, he notices. that loyalty means everything

once he really trusts you? you get a version of him no one else does. the kid from Indiana who just wanted to be loved. the artist who was betrayed by the industry. the man who needs safety, not noise

he lets you in on the darker things—fears, regrets, old wounds that still sting. not because he wants you to fix him but because you’re the only one he feels safe enough to show them to

if you ever lie to him? even a little? it cuts deep. he won’t explode—he’ll shut down. quiet. cold. wounded. it takes a long, long time to earn back what’s broken

but if you prove yourself again and again? you can earn his trust back

also that armor he always wears? it drops... only for you

U = unpredictable

he keeps you on your toes—in good and bad ways

might surprise you with a spontaneous road trip… or disappear into music for two days. you'll never know

can be moody but also wildly funny and creative

being with him is a ride or die—but never boring

V = vulnerability

rare and incredibly beautiful when it happens

you’ll see it in the way his voice cracks when he talks about the past

or how tightly he holds you some nights

vulnerability for him means surrendering fear—and that takes so mucg

he’s not used to being comforted but when you do it gently, he leans in

W = worries

he worries A LOT

about losing you - that you’ll wake up one day and realize he’s too much—too volatile, too damaged, too difficult to love

about not being enough

about the future

about the band

about people betraying him

about the press digging up old wounds

carries more anxiety than he lets on

Needs constant reassurance, even if he won’t ask for it directly

When you hold his face and say, “I’m not going anywhere” his eyes soften like a kid who’s been waiting his whole life to hear that

he overthinks things you say, replays moments wondering if he handled them wrong. even on good days there’s a flicker of fear in him—like happiness is a thread that might snap

at some nights, he can’t sleep because his mind won’t stop racing. he’ll get out of bed and pace the kitchen barefoot at 3AM, smoking and thinking, heart pounding with dread over things that haven’t even happened

he’ll never stop worrying completely but your love teaches him, slowly, how to live in the moments instead of fearing their end

X = (e)xes

he doesn’t talk much about them. too much pain, too many complicated memories

if you ask, he’ll be honest—but you’ll notice the tension in his shoulders

he worries about repeating mistakes. hurting you the way he hurt others—or got hurt himself

your patience makes all the difference

Y = yearning

when axl misses you, it’s not just a passing thought—it consumes him

he turns restless. the bed feels too cold, the house too quiet, and even music doesn’t settle the ache right away. he’ll replay voicemails just to hear your voice or go through old photos

he sends you long, chaotic voivemails in the middle of the night—some sweet, some rambling, some that trail off halfway through like he fell asleep thinking of you

when he’s on the road, he’ll call just to hear you breathe. he doesn’t always have the words—especially when he’s overwhelmed or jet-lagged or emotionally wrung out—but the need is loud in the way he asks:

“What you doing?” when he really means “Tell me something that makes me feel close to you”

when he’s yearning his voice goes soft, his eyes search yours like he’s trying to memorize you. he touches you more slowly when you’re finally back together—holding your face in both hands, pressing his forehead to yours like he can’t believe you’re real

he’ll whisper things like:

“I didn’t know I could miss someone like this”

“It’s not the same without you. Nothing is”

Z = Zzz

night owl

hates going to bed early—he’s always up too late writing, thinking, or pacing

sleeps best when you’re next to him. needs to feel you there, even if it’s just your hand in his

total blanket thief and a clinger

wraps around you like a vine and doesn’t let go

mumbles in his sleep sometimes. you might catch pieces of lyrics, old arguments or your name

if you fall asleep first, he’ll stay awake a while just watching you, brushing your hair back gently

on tour, he barely sleeps without you. calls in the middle of the night just to hear your voice

nothing calms him faster than your fingers in his hair and your steady breath beside him

///

𝒜𝓁𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓎 𝐼 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝓈𝒻𝓌 𝑜𝓃𝑒 (𝒾 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓉) 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒾 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝓊𝓎𝓈 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎 𝒾𝓉!!

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