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#Maintaining Intimacy

dc-probate-attorney · 8 months

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The Realities and Triumphs of Long-Distance Marriages

In a world that’s increasingly interconnected, yet still vast in its geographical expanse, long-distance relationships have become more common than ever before. Among these, long-distance marriages stand out as a testament to the power of love and commitment in the face of physical separation. While distance undoubtedly presents its own set of challenges, these marriages often flourish, proving…

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aha-chuu · 1 year

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Kaveh's Drip Marketing

I have a lot to say about the connections between the Kaveh info that released today and Alhaitham (and what we know about their relationship with each other). I'm not looking at this in a romantic way necessarily, but just in how tightly knotted their characters are with one another.

First, Kaveh's title and description:

"Empyrean Reflection", or more simply, 'Heavenly Reflection'. This ties to his constellation, "Paeadisaea", which is the genus for the birds of paradise. 'Paradise' is a more general term for Heaven, but neither of these are particularly divine in nature in a deity sense. Personally, I think they might be denoting a reference to the Golden Ratio, AKA: Divine Proportion. It's a mathematic concept often used in artistry, which matches well with Kaveh's archectural design profession and his education from the Ksharewar Darshan, which is the Sumeru school of technology.

So that's what it means for Kaveh's own characterisation/lore imo, but it also links to Alhaitham. Firstly, Alhaitham's constellation is also a bird (Vultur Volans, or essentially 'vulture' even though his name means hawk), which is a nice match to Kaveh's birds of paradise. But more interestingly, this is what Alhaitham's Character Story 4 has to say about why he lets Kaveh live with him:

He views Kaveh as a "mirror". What is Kaveh's title again? "Empyrean Reflection".

And the mirroring is all over the place. Here's a section from Alhaitham's drip marketing from December:

He is

Largely unknown

Only puts in the minimum effort required to do his job

People don't pay attention to him

In contrast, here is a corresponding section that came out with Kaveh's drip today:

He is

Extremely well known

Incredibly hardworking

People pay attention to him even when he isn't asking for it, as a by-product of his career

Basically exact opposites; complete mirrors. Here's something else, first from the end of Alhaitham's description and then second from the end of Kaveh's:

Alhaitham's life is super comfortable, ideal in every way he desires. Meanwhile Kaveh is practically crippled by anxiety, made uncomfortable by his life circumstances. The wording itself is mirrored!

Ofc, Kaveh and Alhaitham provide one another's corresponding quotes in the drip marketing. Here is what Kaveh has to say about Alhaitham:

This is an amusing quote, basically a backhanded compliment of "oh he's very smart but he's too self-centred so his talents are made worthless since he never uses them to help others". Alhaitham's quote about Kaveh goes like this:

Alhaitham is a little more wordy so I'll simplify -

Talented people have a lot of outside pressure on them, which can be a burden

However, letting other people get you down is a character flaw, not an inherent part of being talented

Kaveh disagrees

Once again talking about an individual's talents and how worthwhile they are in the context of a society. Where Kaveh complains that Alhaitham can never accomplish anything worthwhile with his skills because he doesn't take other people into account, Alhaitham argues that Kaveh gets nothing done as a consequence of listening too much to other people's expectations. It's not surprising, then, that Kaveh is bankrupt but successful and Alhaitham is comfortable but unknown.

It's like - can these two stop talking about each other for five minutes? Anyway, this post turned out to be more of a collection of Kavetham quotes, but I think it's hard not to draw comparisons. I'm looking forward to seeing Kaveh's actual voicelines if there's this much material just from one marketing post lol

#alhaitham #kaveh #genshin impact #al haitham #kavetham #haikaveh #drip marketing #theory?#analysis #i love these two #idk if Kaveh's title being reflection is supposed to relate to Alhaitham's whole mirror thinh #which BTW Alhaitham's whole kit is about maintaining as many mirrors as possible #like what babe you need your bf?#anyway #this much cannot be a coincidence #and while it's certainly not inherently romantic #there is something to be said for the intimacy of being your roommate's perfect reflection

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fyeahfandomtrash · 1 month

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episode 8 was truly peak because they really had these two spend their time in confined spaces and slowly their real feelings come out over the course of the night like that's ROMANCE

#lovely runner #the tension/intimacy from that proximity like UGH #and they were the main focus throughout the episode to maintain that tension #so so good #i'm obsessed

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angryisokay · 1 year

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A lot of “how to have a happy marriage” advice is to have sex as often as possible, which is stupid as fuck. If you both wanna fuck, good for you, have at it. But also: Find forms of personal intimacy with your spouse that are not sex, not foreplay, not ‘maybe this will lead to sex’, because I guarantee that you and your spouse will have periods in your life where you just don’t want to fuck.

Making sex a vital necessity to be happy together will turn it into an obligation and a chore, which will ruin your relationship. A sex obligation will create needless arguments, allow room for insecurities and resentment to develop and fester, and generally make living together exhausting and miserable.

Find ways to be intimately close without the expectation of sex.

#'but i don't want to be in a sexless marriage' idk buddy maybe don't get married then #being with someone who only fucks you because they feel like they have to sounds pretty shitty imo #that will fuck up your self esteem their self esteem and ruin everything you could have had #why fuck things up when you could find intimate alternatives to lean on when one or both of you aren't in the mood?#and get this: it's like reverse psychology for libido!#the less you expect and demand sex -while maintaining other forms of intimacy- the more likely your spouse will want to have sex regularly

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ferrarihamilton · 8 months

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Dubai 2!!! Is it a sequel to the first Dubai Yukierre?

yes!! featuring them fucking at the karting track:

Pierre suggests they go karting.

“You just want to fuck at the karting track."

“No!” Pierre says. Yuki squints at him. He looks a bit constipated, and he sounds like he’s telling the truth, but also now he’s thinking about fucking at the karting track, so.

“Kinky.”

Pierre scowls. “I thought it would be nice.”

Sure. Yuki smiles to himself. It can be nice.

Yuki leaves the arms of his race suit undone as they wait for the karts to be prepped, waits until the last possible second to zip it up properly. Pierre is still staring at him, probably thinking that he's being sneaky. Yuki lets himself smile even wider.

The laps they do around the circuit are exhilarating, and having the whole track just for the two of them to fight is electric. They scrap for every inch of the racing line, going down the straight, inside on the first corner, raking over the inner curb. By the fourth lap, when they go wheel to wheel down the chicane, Yuki is grinning so hard his cheeks hurt with it, and he knows Pierre is grinning too as he brakes late and just eeks out an advantage on the exit. He’s proven right at the end, when they cross the finish line and Pierre’s out of his kart and pulling Yuki up and out into a hug with a whoop before he’s even taken his helmet off.

Yuki feels Pierre’s arm curl around his waist, and the point of contact races down his spine with a zing. The adrenaline is going straight to his dick, and he makes sure Pierre knows when he crowds behind him on the scooter. He feels more than hears Pierre inhale, and Yuki tucks his thumbs into the pockets of Pierre’s racing suit, holds on tight as they leave everyone else behind.

He checks his phone. 11AM. They have a bit of time.

When they’ve turned a corner, Yuki hops off the scooter, pulls Pierre into one of the changing rooms. He pushes Pierre against the door.

“What—”

Yuki gets a hand around the back of his neck and yanks him down. Pierre responds immediately.

They fuck with Yuki braced against the door, Pierre’s cock slippery on the inside of his thighs, and sounds leaking out of Yuki’s mouth every time the head of his dick nudges against his balls. He’s still sore from yesterday, and he can feel every minute twitch of Pierre’s dick, how it leaks as he slides the head back and forth, leaving streaks of precome.

The sound is obscene in the empty changing room, and Yuki can’t stop himself moaning. Pierre puts a hand over Yuki’s mouth. And then: the vulgar sound of Pierre spitting into his hand, and then he’s reaching around to jerk Yuki off, stroking in tandem with his thrusts. Yuki whines against Pierre’s fingers, jolts forward, wanting friction, but Pierre has him pinned in a way that gives him no leverage.

Yuki squeezes his thighs together as Pierre goes erratic, and then, he's pulling back, pushing just the tip of his cock into Yuki’s hole as he comes. It's enough to send Yuki over too, the head of Pierre's dick just breaching him, the feel of the hot splash of his come against his ass, the swipe of Pierre's fingers over his own dick.

"Jesus Christ." Pierre thunks his forehead against Yuki's shoulder. Yuki can't help himself; he starts laughing, his whole body shaking with it, and even though Pierre starts off complaining, after a few seconds he's chuckling too.

After they've cleaned themselves up the best they can- they'll have to tip the karting staff really well- Pierre says, “You hungry? I found a place we could eat. It looks good.”

“I have training.”

“Afterwards?”

Yuki raises an eyebrow. “You have training.”

“Oh.”

Yuki looks at him properly then. Pierre looks— disappointed, almost. Yuki frowns. He feels— unsure, like he said the wrong thing, but he doesn’t know what.

“We could go tomorrow,” he says, tentatively.

And the smile is back on Pierre’s face, big and wide. "Sounds good."

#rereading these like damn who is this person that churned out fic every week while working full time AND studying full time #AND maintaining a social life? i can barely do one of those things now #this was meant to be an exposition into like......#what happens when you convinced yourself to accept a certain level of intimacy from someone and made your peace with that #and then suddenly they start blurring the boundaries + asking for more or different #if i ever figure it out y'all will know bc i'll finish this fic lol #yukierre #jo writes fic

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resuswhore · 1 year

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another resus question for you little freaks out there;

no/manual airway support; holding their chin in a vice grip, repositioning their jaw over and over, never feeling as though its open enough, clear enough, good enough.

oral airway/OPA; slightly more intimate, giving you more control, but still giving that nitty gritty feel, as you still get to breathe into their cold lips but now you get to feel the smooth glide of air through plastic, the whistle of their exhale all the same.

or intubation; jamming a cold, sterile tube into your resusee's throat and into their dying lungs. less personally intimate but far more intrusive and controlling.

whats y'alls preference?

cause I'm all for the OPA (think that was a little obvious), its like an extra step, something for me to worry about, desperately gliding that tube down my resusee's throat, getting to force air smoothly into their lungs.

plus, when they come to and begin to choke on it I get to soothe them and promise it's only there to help them, that they need to keep it in for me. wiping their tears as they gag on it harshly and praising them when they keep it in any way, all cause I asked them too, all cause I need to hear them breath unobstructed. or even if they begin breathing but remain unconscious, I still get to hear the gentle whips of their breathing, get to be assured by the sound. I could place my finger over the whole and stop their breathing all together. I could lean over them and assist once more, knowing they're getting all of my precious air with ease.

#getting all hot and bothered writing this #I'm a hardware person #I like all the little bits and bobs #it just makes it all so much better #but I prefer to maintain some of the intimacy #medfet #resus community #dark cardiophilia #resus #cardiophile #medfet community #cpr #airway #OPA #oral airway #intubation #mtm #mouth to mouth

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cruelsister-moved2 · 1 year

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i think its actually very significant how straight men are obsessed with lesbians vs bi women. the male gaze when it comes to sexuality between women is generally obsessed with feeling like its taking something that women didn’t want it to have. at the same time as they constantly try to push men on lesbians, they erase bi women’s autonomy in choosing to have sex with men. if it was just about wanting to have sex with two women, there are bi women who would enjoy sharing that experience with them as equals, but instead they’re obsessed with trying to ‘lure’ in lesbians, or at least trick a bi woman who thought she was hooking up with just a woman. porn where the actresses are both bi and are choosing to create entertainment for a male audience becomes fly-on-the-wall ‘lesbian porn’. men will talk about an experience with a bi woman who has always openly liked men as if they ‘turned a lesbian’. their bi partners are ‘lesbians with an exception’. if she’s someone who usually prefers women it’s a trophy and not just her enjoying multiple things. it’s all about trying to remove women’s autonomy from desire. 👍

#like you can compare how like fujoshis or whoever generally never insert themselves into a situation #i dont think that thinking a woman kissing another woman is hot is a crime. i would be hypocritical LOL #but i feel like this is one of the most visible examples of how its not abt sexuality its abt power #a lot of straight men's attitude towards lesbians is about the symbolic enactment of male power over all women #and thats why other people who arent even attracted to lesbians or arent men are also obsessed with inserting men into lesbianism #its ultimately about maintaining gendered boundaries and not about like wanting to sleep with a specific person #anyway something something the bi lesbian phenomenon #i think a lot of takes about how men treat bi womens attraction are goofy bc of the focus on erasure or whatever #but its not about that its about them WANTING to feel like they violated a boundary #whether youre the one with the boundary they want to violate #or someone who didnt have that boundary but theyre enjoying imagining that you did and they violated it #it sucks either way #idk i dont feel like i got it into words well but something about how deeply sick it is that even when bi women do want sex w men its like #they literally want to convince themselves you didnt want it at first. and thats really uncomfortable if you were sharing that intimacy with #someone not with that intention because its like theyre basically fantasising abt violating you and having power over you that you havent #actually given them #yuck

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tothesolarium · 1 year

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Bael having secret Rendezvous with 👀someone, that no one can know about

#Bael #sketch #hell story #he’s got a reputation to maintain and it does not allow for intimacy #however he would explode actually not having any intimacy

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lavenderteacat · 7 months

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I am. thinking about the parallels between [Vash and Knives] and [Coronabeth and Ianthe], they are sooooo fucked up and crunchy oh my god. what if you had a twin and they did the most horrible god-awful thing you can think of - no, worse than that - and you still love them and they love you. but now (because of the thing they did, the thing that they would do again in a heartbeat) you're both profoundly isolated from the world around you and have only each other for support and understanding.

Do you accept that support, and those actions - that path of destruction - along with it? Do you deny it, keeping your personal values intact but denying yourself all meaningful connection (because you won't let yourself Talk About It with anyone who isn't them, either) in the process? But the thing is that neither of these options is actually all that much better than the other, because either way you end up with the world's most fucked up intense no-one-will-ever-understand-you-like-I-understand-you, borderline-incestuous sibling relationship ever and it's just so *starts biting drywall*!!!!!!!!! They're so fucked up and I want to study them under a microscope!!!!!!!!!!

#stampede-based since that is my main source of trigun so far. also admittedly its been a minute since I read nona haha #trigun #trigun stampede #tlt #the locked tomb #tw incest #(in discussion)#my posts #I do think its interesting the way that like. with vash and knives in particular #the setup is one where had they been like. childhood friends and unrelated instead #I think it would be a really popular ship. the codependence of it yknow? I could see there being many a fix-it fic #but I think the fact that they're siblings honestly throws into light a lot of the ways that their relationship is deeply deeply flawed #or I would argue in vash and knives's case just outright abusive #but ways that might not otherwise get examined or thought about much #(I think intense feelings often go unexamined and assumed positive in romance where perhaps they shouldn't be)#because their connection isnt really one maintained by choice so much as by a feeling of necessity.#neither of them feels like they can really walk away from the other its not that they Dont Want To its that they Cant #and that then of course becomes a Cycle of like.#Fucked-Up Action -> Isolation -> Desire for Connection -> Fear of Losing Them -> Fucked-Up Action #not a basis for healthy emotional intimacy guys!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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ignitelimelight · 7 days

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The more I realize I'm legit on the grey-ace/aro spectrum the more I 1. Struggle with the spelling of grey/gray 2. Really wish intimacy were more abundant in various forms than the socially acceptable partnered forms

#i desperately want life partners #but folks willing to be in for the long haul platonically are few and far between #and they usually maintain a certain distance in order to leave room for their future romantic relationships #so true intimacy is stifled except for certain bounded moments

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dc-probate-attorney · 8 months

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Balancing Work and Marriage: Nurturing a Harmonious Life

In today’s fast-paced world, juggling the demands of a successful career and a fulfilling marriage can often feel like a challenging tightrope walk. The pursuit of professional excellence and the desire for a strong, loving marriage are both worthy aspirations, but finding the delicate equilibrium between the two is essential for maintaining a harmonious life. Balancing work and marriage requires…

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fvsm4x · 6 months

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#MAYBE IN ANOTHER LIFE? [Gojo Satoru]

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.

— C.W: ex-boyfriend! Gojo satoru x depressed! female reader , dark themes , slightly geto suguru x female reader , no curses au.

— WORD COUNT: 5.3k+

„I think we should break up.“

Gojo’s words hung in the air, as he looked into your eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you fought to keep the tears at bay. You desperately tried to maintain your composure, not wanting to show Gojo just how deeply his words had wounded you.

“Why? What happened?“ You managed to ask, your voice trembling.

Gojo’s gaze softened, but his eyes held a distant look, as if his mind was already elsewhere. “I’ve found someone else,” he admitted, his words like a dagger to your fragile heart.

A whirlwind of emotions engulfed your thoughts. Insecurity, confusion, and a deep sense of betrayal washed over you. You had always known Gojo was popular, surrounded by women who seemed to possess an otherworldly beauty that you could only dream of. But you had hoped that your connection would be strong enough to withstand any external temptations.

As tears welled up in your eyes, you couldn’t help but question your own worth. Gojo had been your beacon of light, the one who had brought joy and stability into your chaotic world. You had believed that your love was strong enough to overcome any obstacles.

But now, faced with the harsh reality of Gojo’s confession, your insecurities resurfaced with a vengeance.

How could Gojo have led you on, making you believe that your love was real, only to discard you so easily for someone else?

But despite the storm of emotions raging within you, you knew that you had to find the strength to let Gojo go. You couldn’t force someone to love you, no matter how much you wanted to.

And so, with a heavy heart and tears streaming down your face, you whispered, “If that’s what you truly want, then I won’t stand in your way.”

You wiped away your tears and caught Gojo’s gaze. His eyes were filled with regret and sadness, and you could see the pain he felt in his expression. It was as if he realized the gravity of his decision and the hurt he had caused you.

“I’m so sorry,” Gojo whispered, his voice filled with genuine remorse. “I never wanted to hurt you. It’s not about your worth or how you compare to anyone else. It’s about me and my own shortcomings.”

You looked at him, surprised by his words.

“I understand,” you replied softly, your voice filled with a mix of sadness and acceptance. “I know I can’t change your feelings or make you stay. I’ll start packing my things so you can have your apartment back.”

As you rose from the plush couch, your footsteps echoed through the spacious apartment, the sound muffled by the thick carpet beneath your feet. With a heavy heart, you made your way to the bedroom you had once shared with Gojo. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if aware of the impending change that would soon occur.

You opened the grand closet, its ornate doors revealing a collection of clothes and personal belongings. The air was filled with a bittersweet nostalgia as you carefully selected each item, their presence a testament to the love and happiness you had once shared. The room seemed to whisper your name, its walls bearing witness to the countless moments of joy and intimacy that had unfolded within its confines.

As you held each cherished possession in your hands, memories flooded your mind like a river. The soft touch of Gojo's hand, the warmth of his embrace, and the laughter that had once filled the room. Each item carried a weight of emotions, a reminder of the love you had believed to be unbreakable.

Gojo, sitting on the edge of the bed, watched you with a pained expression. The reality of the situation seemed to settle in, and he realized the depth of the connection he was severing. The room felt colder, emotions hanging thick in the air.

As you folded your clothes and placed them in a suitcase, Gojo finally spoke again, his voice carrying a tinge of regret. "I never wanted it to come to this, Y/n. You deserve happiness, and I hope you find it even if it's without me."

His words lingered, a bittersweet acknowledgment of the end. The room, once filled with shared laughter and intimate moments, now felt like a haunting memory. The pain was palpable, and you couldn't help but wonder if it would ever subside.

As you zipped up your suitcase, Gojo approached, his hand hesitating in the air as if unsure whether to touch you.

He gently brushed away a tear that rolled down your cheek.

"I'm truly sorry," he murmured,

With your suitcase in hand, you stood near the doorway, taking one last look at the place that had been your shared sanctuary. It was a goodbye to not only Gojo but also to the dreams you had woven together.

As you walked out, Gojo remained in the room, the emptiness echoing the void left by the shattered relationship. The door closed behind you, sealing the end of a chapter that had once promised forever.

In the days that followed, the task of finding a new place to call home became increasingly overwhelming. The once vibrant city, which had once been a source of shared dreams and promises, now seemed indifferent to your struggles. Each apartment viewing brought with it a fresh wave of emotions, serving as a painful reminder of the life you had envisioned with Gojo.

In the midst of this turmoil, old habits resurfaced. You found yourself reaching for cigarettes and turning to alcohol as a means of coping.

It was disheartening, as you had believed that these vices were behind you after Gojo entered your life and seemingly fixed all your problems. But now, they have reappeared, threatening to consume you once again.

What made matters worse was the lack of support you had. There were no parents to lean on, no friends to turn to for help. You were left to navigate this challenging situation all on your own, starting from scratch.

Before meeting Gojo, you had worked countless jobs to pay your bills and support your studies, scraping by with whatever little money you had.

The weight of it all was taking its toll on you. You felt yourself falling apart, the stress and uncertainty chipping away at your resolve.

But then, Gojo appeared, and your life took an unexpected turn. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring the two of you together. The first time you laid eyes on him was when you were working as a waitress at a cozy bakery. As he walked in, time seemed to stand still. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his striking features.

His vibrant blue eyes, reminiscent of a clear summer sky, held a depth that drew you in. His snow-white hair and lashes added an ethereal touch to his already captivating appearance. And when he smiled, it was as if the whole room lit up with warmth and charm. You were instantly captivated by his presence, unable to tear your gaze away.

To your surprise, Gojo noticed your lingering glances and, with a confident stride, approached the counter where you were working. He invited you to join him, and you couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend more time with this enigmatic man. As you sat together, indulging in delectable desserts, the hours seemed to melt away in a blur of laughter and shared stories.

Days turned into weeks, and Gojo became a regular at the bakery, always seeking your company. The two of you would engage in deep conversations that spanned a wide range of topics, from the trivial to the profound. Each interaction only deepened your connection, and before you knew it, you found yourself falling for him.

However, amidst the blossoming romance, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of your mind. You couldn’t help but notice the parade of women that seemed to surround Gojo. He would visit the bakery at least twice a week, each time accompanied by a different woman. They would engage in affectionate displays, acting as if they were a couple.

As you observed these interactions, a wave of insecurity washed over you. Comparisons became inevitable, and you couldn’t help but feel inadequate in comparison to these stunning women. Their flawless skin, plump breasts, and alluring curves seemed to highlight your own perceived shortcomings. Their beauty was undeniable, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever measure up.

But despite these doubts, Gojo continued to seek your company, showing genuine interest in your thoughts, dreams, and aspirations. His actions spoke louder than words, and you began to question your own self-doubt. Perhaps there was more to this connection than meets the eye.

Maybe, just maybe, Gojo saw something in you that went beyond physical appearances.

Motivated by this newfound hope, you made a conscious effort to break free from your bad habits. Weeks turned into months, and Gojo continued to visit the bakery every day just to see you.

However, one day, something special happened. Gojo waited patiently for you to finish your shift and then walked you back to the motel where you were staying. It was during this walk that he truly realized how difficult your life actually was.

Seeing you work tirelessly, with dark circles under your eyes and wearing the same clothes day after day, Gojo couldn’t bear to see you living in such difficult conditions. He noticed the presence of alcohol and cigarettes in your room and insisted that you stay with him instead. He wanted to provide you with a better life, free from the struggles you had been facing.

And so, you took up Gojo’s offer and moved in with him.

And that's when you became a couple.

But after two years of being in a relationship with Gojo, he found someone else. The person who used to hold you in his arms, whisper sweet words of love, and make you feel like the most important person in his life was now directing those affectionate gestures towards someone else.

You didn’t want to let him go. The thought of losing him was devastating. However, you also understood that you couldn’t force him to stay with you if his heart was no longer fully committed. Questions swirled in your mind. Did you do something wrong? Were you not exciting enough for him anymore? Was there something else that led him to find someone new?

Despite the heartache, one thing remained certain- your love for Gojo would never fade. The pain of knowing that he loved someone else, someone who wasn’t you, was excruciating. No one could ever replace the way Gojo had changed you, the way he had touched your heart and made you feel alive.

You sat alone in the dimly lit motel room, a bottle of liquor in hand, you sought solace in the numbing effects of alcohol. The pain in your heart seemed unbearable, and you hoped that drowning your sorrows would provide temporary relief.

The room felt suffocating. Each sip of the bitter liquid seemed to momentarily wash away the ache, but deep down, you knew it was only a temporary escape. The truth remained that Gojo had moved on, and you were left grappling with the shattered pieces of your heart.

With a heavy sigh, you placed the half-empty bottle on the grimy nightstand and slowly rose from the disheveled bed. Your footsteps carried you towards the suitcase, which stood dutifully beside a small table, as you rummaged through its contents in search of something comfortable to wear for the night. The weight of your emotions bore down on you, causing you to push up your hoodie, removing it with a forceful toss onto the nearby chair, as you attempted to regain control over your tears.

The question echoed in your mind once again, piercing through the haze of confusion and hurt. How could he do this to you? The betrayal felt like a knife twisting in your heart, leaving you gasping for air amidst the waves of anguish.

You made your way towards the mirror. Your reflection stared back at you, a vulnerable and exposed version of yourself. The longer you gazed upon your topless form, the deeper the sadness seeped into your being. Your hand instinctively reached out, fingers grazing the surface of your bare stomach, as if trying to grasp the weight.

Could it be that your weight gain was the reason behind his abandonment? Did he no longer desire to be with you because of the changes in your body? The thought gnawed at your self-esteem, fueling the belief that the girl he now chose to be with possessed a flat stomach, a flawless figure, and enviable curves. Qualities that you, in your own eyes, did not possess.

Feeling the ache in your stomach intensify, you released your grip and turned your attention back to the task at hand. Pulling out a set of comfortable pajamas from your suitcase, you quickly changed into them, hoping that the soft fabric would provide some comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions.

As you lay down on the bed, the worn-out mattress offering little respite, your mind raced with thoughts of the uncertain future that lay before you. The realization hit hard – you would have to find a job, and fast. The fear of being kicked out of the motel, with nowhere else to go, loomed over you like a dark cloud.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, your mind began to form a plan. You closed your eyes, the weight of exhaustion finally settling upon you.

Days turned into nights, and nights into days as you tirelessly searched for a job. The motel room became a temporary refuge, a place where you could rest your weary body and gather your thoughts before facing the world again. And then, finally, your efforts paid off.

You received a call from the bakery where you had once worked, offering you a position. Excitement and relief flooded through you as you accepted the job. It was a familiar place,

The first day back at the bakery was filled with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. As you stepped through the familiar doors, the scent of freshly baked bread enveloped you. The warm smiles and greetings from your former colleagues made you feel instantly welcome, as if you had never left.

You returned to your old position as a waitress and memories of Gojo lingered in the back of your mind. It had been a while since you had seen him, and you had made peace with the fact that he no longer wanted anything to do with you.

You let out a sigh as you walked over to the table where some guests were seated. Taking their orders, you jotted them down on a small notepad and headed towards the counter to place it.

As you turned around, the door opened, and there stood Gojo Satoru, looking as charming as ever. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, and a smile instantly spread across his face. He waved at you, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat.

Beside Gojo stood a breathtakingly beautiful woman, exuding confidence and radiating charm. It was clear why Gojo was drawn to her, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

With a polite smile, you excused yourself and walked away, seeking solace in the different side of the bakery. Your heart raced as you tried to process the unexpected encounter. The memories of your past relationship flooded back, bringing with them a whirlwind of emotions.

In the safety of the different side, away from prying eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

As you continued your work, serving customers and attending to their needs, you found solace in the routine. The hustle and bustle of the bakery provided a distraction, allowing you to momentarily forget the turmoil that Gojo’s presence had stirred within you.

But deep down, you knew that healing would take time. The wounds were still fresh, and seeing Gojo with someone new had reopened them. Yet, you refused to let it define you.

As you stood behind the counter, your eyes scanned the room, searching for any customer in need of your assistance. However, it seemed that everyone was content, engrossed in their conversations and meals. Your gaze involuntarily shifted towards the table where Gojo sat with his new girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but observe the way Gojo’s eyes sparkled with adoration as he looked at her. The way his face lit up with a blush whenever she smiled at him was a sight you had never witnessed before. It was as if he saw her as a goddess, someone worthy of his utmost devotion and affection.

A pang of jealousy washed over you as you compared Gojo’s current demeanor with how he had looked at you in the past. His eyes had never held that same lovesick gaze when he was with you. It was a bitter realization that he had never regarded you in the same way he now regarded this new woman.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it was about her that captivated Gojo so completely. Was it her radiant smile, her confident aura, or perhaps something deeper that you couldn’t comprehend? Whatever it was, it was clear that Gojo had found someone who made his heart race and his eyes shine with love.

As you continued to observe them from a distance, a mix of emotions swirled within you. Part of you longed for Gojo to look at you with the same intensity, to make you feel like the center of his universe. But another part of you knew that it was time to let go, to accept that Gojo had moved on and found happiness elsewhere.

With a heavy sigh, you turned your attention back to your duties, reminding yourself that your worth was not defined by Gojo’s affections.

You carefully balanced the two deserts and the cup of hot chocolate on your tray, making sure everything was secure. Lost in your thoughts, you absentmindedly glanced at the table number where this order was meant to be served. Without looking up, you started walking towards the designated table, unaware of the impending collision.

Just as you were about to lift your gaze, your body collided with someone, causing your grip on the tray to loosen. The board slipped from your hands, and the cup of hot chocolate tumbled through the air, its contents splattering onto the person you had unintentionally crashed into.

Your eyes widened in shock, and panic surged through your veins as you realized the gravity of the situation. You quickly raised your gaze, meeting the eyes of the person you had accidentally drenched with hot chocolate. And in that moment, your whole world seemed to crumble around you.

It was her. The woman for whom Gojo had left you. The same woman who had stolen his heart and shattered yours in the process. The sight of her standing before you, her face contorted in pain as tears streamed down her cheeks, was like a knife to your heart.

She hissed in pain as the scalding hot chocolate made contact with her skin, desperately trying to wipe away the sticky liquid that clung to her. Your hands trembled as you reached for tissues from a nearby table, desperately attempting to alleviate the discomfort you had caused.

But just as you were about to wipe away the hot chocolate, a forceful hand slapped yours away, taking over the task of cleaning the girl's skin. Startled, you looked up and saw Gojo, his face contorted with fury. His eyebrows knitted together as he witnessed the tears streaming down the girl's face, his protective instincts kicking in.

You stood there, next to Gojo, your voice barely audible as you muttered apologies, trying to explain that it was an accident. But Gojo's anger seemed to drown out your words. He finished wiping away the hot chocolate from the girl's skin and pulled her into his arms, shielding her from any further harm. His gaze shifted towards you, his eyes filled with a mix of disappointment and rage.

"Why would you do that?!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the air. His words pierced through your heart, intensifying the guilt that already weighed heavily upon you. You could see the hurt in his eyes, the pain of betrayal mingling with the anger. But you couldn't find the words to defend yourself, knowing deep down that there was no justification for your actions.

„It was an accident-“

He took a deep breath,"Save it, I know why you did it.“

„Just because I found someone else and that I’m happy with them doesn’t mean that you’ll get to hurt them out of jealousy!“ he spoke

„I thought you were better than that," he said. The girl, still in his arms, chimed in, her voice filled with anger. "Call your manager, you need to be fired!"

Gojo's gaze shifted back to you, his eyes searching for an explanation. The weight of his disappointment and the girl's demand for your termination bore down on you. Panic set in as you realized the implications of losing your job. You couldn't afford to be fired; you needed the money to support yourself.

Desperation filled your voice as you pleaded with Gojo, "Please, don't ask for my manager. It was just an accident. I need this job, I can't afford to lose it." Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to convey the sincerity of your plea. You knew you had made a mistake, but it was one born out of carelessness, not malice.

You instinctively grabbed Gojos' hand,“Please-!“ you begged, but your hand only got slapped away by the woman in his arms.

„And now you go touching someone’s boyfriend? What‘s wrong with you!“ the girl shouted as she slapped you.

Your head turned to the side from the force of the slap, a surge of pain radiated through your cheek. The impact left your skin hot and flushed, a visible mark of the humiliation you felt. You fought back tears, determined not to let them see your vulnerability.

With trembling hands, you gently placed your palm against your reddened cheek, trying to soothe the pain. Your eyes flickered towards the girl, searching for any sign of remorse or understanding, but all you saw was a cold, dismissive gaze. Her arms crossed defiantly, she demanded that you call for the manager, her voice dripping with disdain.

„Call the manager.“

Desperation welled up within you, and you mustered the courage to speak, your voice quivering with a mix of fear and desperation. "Wait, please! I... I really need this job," you pleaded, hoping that she would see reason, that she would understand the dire circumstances that led you to this moment.

She cut you off, her words sharp and dismissive. "I don't care, call for your manager," she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for negotiation or empathy.

Your gaze shifted towards Gojo, silently pleading for his intervention, for him to vouch for you or at least offer some support. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw a furrowed brow and a hint of disappointment. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight of disbelief and disapproval. "Can't believe you would pull something like that," he murmured, his words landing like a heavy blow to your already wounded heart.

Your hand, still trembling, fell from your cheek as you straighten your posture. With a deep breath, you mustered the strength to bow,

"I'll get t-the manager right away," you said,

With a heavy heart, you turned away from Gojo and the girl, making your way towards the counter to call for the manager.

Your hands trembled slightly as you picked up the phone, dialing the number with shaky fingers. Each ring felt like an eternity, amplifying the anxiety that coursed through your veins. Finally, a voice answered on the other end, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice.

"Hello- this is Y/n L/n from [Bakery]. I... I need to speak with the manager, please," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The person on the other end assured you that they would connect you, and you waited anxiously, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you waited, your mind raced with thoughts of the consequences that awaited you. Losing this job would mean losing your only source of income, and the financial strain it would bring was overwhelming. You couldn't bear the thought of disappointing your loved ones or struggling to make ends meet.

Finally, the manager's voice came through the line, and you mustered up the courage to explain the situation. You recounted the accident, your sincere apologies, and the girl's demand for your termination. The manager listened attentively, their voice calm and composed as they absorbed the details.

After a brief pause, the manager spoke, their tone firm yet compassionate. "I will come over to assess the situation and speak with all parties involved. Please remain calm and await my arrival."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you hung up the phone.

As you turned around, you noticed Gojo and the girl engaged in a hushed conversation. Their expressions were still filled with anger and disappointment, but there was also a hint of uncertainty. You approached them cautiously, your eyes downcast.

"I've c-called the manager," you said softly,"They will be here soon to address the situation. I... I'm truly sorry for what happened. It was never my intention to cause any harm or distress."

„Sure“ the girl replied.

Months had passed since that fateful encounter at the café. You had lost your job, the incident with Gojo and the girl tarnishing your reputation and leading to your dismissal. Now, you found yourself standing by the reception desk of another run-down motel, desperately seeking a place to stay for the night because you got kicked out of the last one.

As you approached the receptionist, a tired-looking man with a permanent scowl on his face, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety.

“Excuse me,” you began, your voice wavering slightly. “I was wondering if you have any available rooms for tonight?”

The receptionist glanced up from his paperwork, his eyes narrowing as he took in your disheveled appearance. His tone was curt as he replied, “We do have a few rooms left, but I’ll need payment upfront.”

Your heart sank. You had been scraping by, barely making ends meet, and the little money you had left was barely enough to cover your basic necessities.

“I… I’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t have enough money to pay for a room.”

The receptionist’s scowl deepened, his impatience evident. “Look, we can’t just give away rooms for free. If you can’t pay, then I suggest you find somewhere else to go.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the gravity of the situation. You were alone, with nowhere to turn and no one to rely on. The weight of your mistakes and the consequences they had brought upon you felt suffocating.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the reception desk, feeling the eyes of the other guests in the lobby on you, judging and pitying your predicament. As you walked towards the exit, a mix of shame and desperation washed over you, threatening to consume your spirit.

Outside, the cold night air greeted you, a stark reminder of your current reality. You stood on the sidewalk, feeling lost and defeated. The world seemed to blur around you as you pondered your next move, wondering how you had ended up in this dire situation.

Suddenly, a voice chimed in from behind, jolting you out of your thoughts. Startled, you turned around to find yourself face to face with Geto, your ex's best friend. His black eyes bore into yours, his raised eyebrows conveying curiosity and surprise. His gaze drifted to the suitcase clutched tightly in your hand, a silent question hanging in the air.

"Geto?" you questioned, your voice tinged with confusion.

A puff of smoke escaped his lips as he exhaled the cigarette between his fingers,"How many times do I have to tell you, you can call me Suguru," he replied,

“Why are you here?” he asked, standing before you and peering into your eyes. But before you could answer, another question slipped from his lips, catching you off guard. “Where is Satoru?”

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. He didn’t know. How could he not know? Wasn’t he Satoru’s best friend? Shouldn’t he have been informed about the breakup that had occurred just last month? Did Gojo, your ex, not bother to share the news with him?

“Didn’t Satoru tell you?” you asked, breaking eye contact with him, unable to bear his gaze any longer.

“Tell me what?” he questioned. He removed the cigarette from his lips and threw it to the ground, crushing it under his shoe.

“That we broke up,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. As you watched his reaction, you noticed a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he regained his composure.

“You two broke up..?” he questioned,“Since when did you-”

“Last month we broke up,” you interrupted,

“Is there any reason why you two broke up? Everything was good, wasn’t it?” As he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“He…” you hesitated, your gaze shifting to the side. “He found someone else,” you admitted, your lips trembling slightly.

“Oh,” he responded, his hand retracting from your shoulder as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes turned towards the night sky, lost in his own thoughts, before refocusing on you. “And why are you here in the middle of the night?” he asked, his gaze scanning you from head to toe, taking in your worn-out clothes. His eyes returned to your face.

“I got kicked out of the motel because I couldn’t pay for it anymore,” you replied,

His brows furrowed,"I'm so sorry to hear that," he said softly,"You shouldn't have to go through this alone."

Without hesitation, he reached out and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Listen, I have an idea," he said,"Why don't you come stay with me until you find a job and get back on your feet?"

Surprised by his offer, you looked at him,"I- I can‘t do that-!" you spoke.

A warm smile spread across his face. "Of course you can," he replied. "I have a spare room and it would be my pleasure to help you out. Sometimes, all we need is a little support to get back on track."

„But-!“

„No buts.“

"Thank you," you whispered, "I don't know what to say..."

He smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling,"No need to thank me," he insisted. "We all go through tough times, and sometimes we just need a helping hand. If there's anything else I can do, please don't hesitate to ask."

He took the suitcase from your hand and turned around, walking towards his house. "Let's go," he said, looking back at you.

You nodded and followed after him.

6K notes · View notes

leclerc-hs · 2 months

Text

73 Questions with Mrs. Leclerc - cl16

pairing: husband!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you do a 73 questions interview with Vogue OR charles can't help but third wheel your interview warnings: none??? just cute fluff basically, NOT PROOFREAD word count: 2.1k author's note: I actually got a request by someone to do this and thought it was such a CUTE idea and concept. I obviously didn't do ALL 73 questions cause that would've taken forever. But thought this was a cute little piece to do. I hope you enjoy and don't forget to let me know what you think don't be shy !! xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE DELICATE FOLDS of the pale pink sundress fluttered like petals in a gentle breeze, framing your figure with a soft, ethereal elegance. As the front door yielded to the push, the fabric danced around your legs, caressing the tender skin of your thighs with a whisper of touch. Your radiant smile illuminated the scene, a beacon of joy amidst the fluttering fabric and nervous flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey!” The male voice chimed brightly, his tone cheerful as a songbird greeting the dawn, echoing through the air with an infectious energy that mirrored your own bright smile.

“Hey!” You respond with effervescent warmth, your smile stretching across your face like a sunbeam breaking through clouds. With a graceful gesture, you swing the door open wider, revealing the inviting warmth of your home’s foyer. The soft light spills in, casting a golden glow over the polished floors and elegant furnishing. The first thing to notice is the giant painting of a Ferrari Formula One car, hung high above the entry way table.

“Look who we have here! It’s Mrs. Leclerc!” A delicate blush warms your cheeks, a subtle reminder of the tender affection that tingles within you whenever you’re addressed as such. Though you and Charles have been together for many years, your marriage has infused your relationship with a fresh sense of intimacy and closeness. And despite that it’s been almost five years, the title of “wife” feels forever new and unfamiliar.

“On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?”

“I would say 8, so I’m super excited!” With a gentle click, you shut the front door behind you, enveloping the foyer in a tranquility as you made your way down the hallway to the kitchen. Along the way, you stooped to pick up a scattering of children’s toys that lay scattered like confetti on the polished wooden floors, offering a quick apology for the perceived “mess.” However, you couldn’t help but inwardly smile at the orchestrated chaos around you. While the house was meticulously maintained by the cleaning company before the video shoot, every detail was carefully curated to strike the perfect balance between lived-in warmth and elegance, ensuring a setting that felt both inviting and authentic to you and the viewers.

“Any reason for that?”

In the heart of the home lies a kitchen adorned with a stunning green cabinet motif. The cabinets, painted in a rich emerald hue, exude an air of sophistication and charm, perfectly complemented by gleaming brass hardware. Sunlight filters through the vast array of windows, casting a warm glow over the polished marble countertops.

“You mean other than the fact that the kids go back to school soon?” You and the interviewer let out a soft laugh as you made your way behind the kitchen island, opening the fridge in a smooth motion to pull out a water bottle. “Want one?”

“No, but thanks though!” His voice is light-hearted.

As the fridge door remains open, a tantalizing glimpse is offered to the audience of its well-stocked interior. A colorful array of fresh produce fills the shelves, showing an abundance of vibrant fruits and crisp vegetables. Among the healthy offerings, assortment of juice boxes catches the eye, adding a playful touch to the wholesome scene.

“That’s a lot of juice boxes you have in there.” He makes a comment, it’s not a question, but you take it as one.

“Two kids and a husband,” You start, your tone light and casual before lowering your voice into a conspiratorial whisper for the camera, “who practically is also a kid, results in a lot of juice boxes.” With a playful wink directed at the lens, you punctuate the statement, adding a touch of humor to the scene. Setting the water bottle down on the expansive kitchen counter, you resume your easy demeanor, effortlessly blending candor and charm for your audience.

“Hey!” Your head shoots over, the camera seamlessly following your gaze to where Charles, your husband,sits on the floor of the living room, two of your kids, aged two and three, beside him with an abundance of toys strewn about. “I heard that!” Charles retorts with mock offense, a playful grin lighting up his face as he joins in the banter.

The living room exudes a chic sophistication with a distinct Formula One flair. Charcoal-gray walls provide a sleek backdrop, accentuating the mounted flat-screen television. A striking statement piece dominates one corner—a display of artwork showcasing all of the racetracks Charles has conquered – infusing the room with a sense of triumph and energy. A plush white sofa, adorned with an array of vibrant red pillows, invites relaxation and style. Across the room, a sizable shelf proudly showcases a collection of racing helmets, some belonging to Charles and others gathered over time, adding a personal touch to the space. Below the television, was a long console table that was adorned in various plants and photos of your family. You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced at them.

With a casual wave of your hand, you dismiss Charles’s playful interruption, maintaining your position at the kitchen island as the camera refocuses on you. The gesture carries an air of affectionate familiarity, a gentle reminder of the dynamic energy that permeates your bustling household.

“If you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be?”

“Definitely Austin Butler.” You answer almost immediately, no hesitance in your voice.

“Hey!” Charles’s playful yelp echoes through the room once more, accompanied by the joyful laughter of your children. One nestled in his lap, the other engrossed in a picture book, their presence adding warmth and vitality to the room. You share a knowing smile with Charles, the affectionate banter a familiar melody to your family life.

The laughter of the interviewer joins the playful exchange. The camera effortlessly captures the dynamic interaction between all of you with ease.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Restez en dehors de ça.” Stay out of this!

“Arrête de faire semblant de vouloir faire l’amour avec quelqu’un d’autre que moi!” Stop pretending you want to make love with anybody but me!

With a mischievous gleam in your eye, you turn back to the camera, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Can I change my answer?” You inquire, injecting a hint of playful anticipation into your tone.

“Sure,” the interviewer replies.

“You’re supposed to say no,” You quip with a chuckle.

“Oh, um no?”

With a playful pout, you glance over at Charles who is already staring at the interaction. A smile adorned on his face like he is in complete awe of you, regardless of what you are saying. “Sorry honey!” You wave your hand around. “Answers are final!”

Leaving the kitchen behind, you make your way towards the backyard, where the promise of relaxation and leisure awaits. Stepping through the door, you’re greeted by the sight of a large pool shimmering under the sunlight, its crystal-clear waters beckoning for a refreshing dip. Surrounding the pool, lounge chairs are strategically place, some on the pool’s ledge, inciting you to bask in the sun while enjoying the cool water. A wide arrangement of pool floaties from unicorns to racecars litter the pool as well.

It’s a breathtaking sight: a vast expanse of bright blue skies stretching overhead, adorned with barely a wisp of cloud in sight. The warm rays of sun dance upon your skin. With a stylish flourish, you slip on a pair of your favorite Ray-Bans, a subtle nod to your husband’s sunglass collection.

“Vintage or new?”

You ponder for a moment as you stand in the backyard, a breeze blowing your hair behind your shoulders. “Depends, but definitely vintage.”

“Window or aisle seat?”

“Aisle, although Charles likes to take the aisle more.”

“What are three things you can’t live without?”

“Wait, do my children count as two of the three?”

“Up to you.”

“Okay, so my two children. And my lip gloss.” You laugh, pausing for effect. “Kidding! My two kids, and my lip gloss…” You pause, jokingly. “And my husband of course.” The light-hearted remark reflects the joyful chaos of humor and love in your life. “He’s really the sweetest man. I’m so lucky.”

The glass door slides open with a whisper, and into the frame steps Charles, his presence incessant. With a carefree demeanor, he approaches you clad in a pair of baggy jeans and a plain white t-shirt that stretched at the seams from his muscles. He presses soft kisses to your cheeks, the stubble of his own rubbing against your smooth skin, his love evident in each tender kiss.

“Désolé,” Sorry. He apologizes before pecking another kiss to your cheek. “Tellement ambrassable.” Just so kissable. He places one more on your cheek, your face bright red from the camera’s catching all of this.

“Looks like he can’t be far from you for very long.”

Charles looks at the camera, a glint in his eye with a large smile, like he was the happiest man on earth, and nothing could dampen his spirits. Especially with you nearby. “Est-ce que tu la vois?” Do you see her?

The interviewer, unaware of Charles’s words, simply nods in response behind the camera lens, acknowledging the affection in his tone. Later translations will reveal the depth of Charles’s words no doubt. Elle est tellement belle. Bien sûr, je ne peux pas rester loin longtemps.” She’s so beautiful. Of course, I can’t stay far long.

Your face is bright red as Charles remains at your side.

“Where are the kids?”

“Put them down for a nap!” Charles answers, his arm slung over your shoulder as he leans on you comfortably.

As the interviewer continues the questionnaire, Charles can’t resist interjecting with playful remarks and comments on almost every question. His spontaneous interruptions add an element of humor and spontaneity to the video, turning what could have been a standard interview into an entertaining and engaging exchange.

“How do you define beauty?” “My wife.” “Charles, the questions are for me!”

"What do you love most about your body?" "That's an easy one...I think her--" Charles begins, but you swat his chest and cut him off. "I love my arms. Not because they're that nice but they give me the ability to hold my children." Charles clicks his tongue, hating that you even implied something about yourself as 'not that nice'.

"Least favorite color?" "Red." Charles lets out a large gasp with a string of phrases in French, clearly hurt by your response. "It's a joke, mon amour!" "How did you know you were in love?" You look at Charles then, his eyes already on you, a soft smile pulling on both of your lips. "I can't remember a time when I wasn't in love with him. Probably when I realized I would rather be awake in the middle of the night, since he was traveling so much, just to talk to him for even a few minutes, instead of going to sleep." Charles plays with the ends of your hair, twirling the ends around his fingers as he chimes in. "We've known each other for so long. But, when I first met her, it was like meeting someone I've known my entire life. There was no awkward silences between us. We just clicked."

“Diamonds or pearls?” “Pearls.” “Mon chou, don’t lie.” “I’m not!” “The diamond on your finger says otherwise!”

“If you made a documentary, what would it be about?” “Charles’ brain. I seriously question what goes on in there sometimes.” “Hey! It’s only you…” You raise your eyebrows at him, like he’s a liar. “And racing.” “Definitely racing.”

“If you had a tattoo, where would it be?”

Charles smirks deeply, like he knows something the world doesn’t, the interviewer picks up on it. “Wait, you have a tattoo? Can we see it?”

“No! It’s for me only.”

You playfully swat at Charles’ chest, a playful blush coloring your cheeks as you both wander throughout the house, showcasing its beautiful décor. Despite your embarrassment at Charles’ antics, you can’t help but be thankful for him easing your nerves. You weren’t one for the public eye, normally. So, when you agreed to this interview it came out as quite a surprise.

“Okay final question of the day.”

You both stand by the front door, the interviewer on the front step outside of the home.

“Hugs or kisses?”

“Definitely ki—” You don’t get to finish your answer as Charles’ fingers grasp onto your neck, his fingers sprawled along your jawline as well, and tugs your face into his. He shuts the door as soon as his tongue slips into your mouth.

It’s a few seconds before you push him off you. “You’re unbelievable!”

A giant smile spreads across his face as he looks down at you. “Only for you, mon chou!”